Page 123 of The Duke Who Saved Christmas
“Uh…” The line crackled. “Can I drop it off tomorrow?”
“It wasn’t a gift,” I lied. “I bought it for me.”
“Is it an emergency?”
I was going to Hell for this lie. “They’re sanitary pads. I’m on my period.”
He paused, then said, “All right, sure. Hold on, let me turn around. Give me a few.”
“Thanks. I’ll be waiting.”
The line went dead, and I clutched at my phone, staring out of the window. I’d dug myself such a hole that I may as well have been buried alive, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
I’d never considered myself a particularly desperate person, but here I was.
Being desperate.
The road at the bottom of the driveway was illuminated, and my breath hitched when I saw his car turning and pulling up the slope. My stomach was so tight, as if I’d just done a core workout, and I opened the front door as he backed up in the front of the house.
Thomas got out of the car, barely glancing at me. “In the boot?”
“Huh?”
“Your bag.”
“Oh, right. Yeah.” I bit down onto my thumbnail as he opened the boot and pulled out a small paper bag. “Is this it?”
I nodded, and he handed it over without making eye contact.
He closed the boot down with a clunk. “Like I said, let me know if you need anything.”
“You,” I said quietly, looking at the back tyre.
“What?”
I swallowed and looked up to see his gaze fixed intensely on me. “You. I said, ‘you.’”
He ran his hand through his hair. “Sylvie…”
“Here.” I held the bag back out. “This doesn’t have pads in. I’m not on my period, either. It’s not even mine. I just… needed you to come back.”
Thomas took the small bag and peered inside. It was full of his things, of course, and he sighed when he saw it. “Forsomeone who didn’t want ambiguity less than an hour ago, you’re bullshitting an awful lot.”
“I’m not bullshitting,” I replied softly. “But I know what you’re saying. I do. I don’t understand it myself.”
“What do you want me to do about that?”
“Will you come in?”
He smirked. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You know how I feel about you. We’re alone. How do you know I won’t do something you’ll regret tomorrow?”
I pulled my sleeve up over my fist and touched it to my chin. “I didn’t call you because I thought I’d regret anything that might happen, Thomas.”
With his gaze still fixed on me, he locked his car and stepped inside. “It’s fucking freezing in here.”
“Only the pig gets heating privileges,” I replied, pulling off my hat. “Shehas a personal electric radiator.”
“Lah-di-dah.” Thomas shrugged off his coat and held his hand out for mine. “I hope you realise that me accepting your invitation to come in was done with impure intentions. If you’re uncomfortable with that, tell me now, and I’ll leave.”
