Page 104 of Warming the Sheikh's Bed & Love in the Fast Lane

“Then don’t do it.” His smile was disarming, and a flop of brown hair fell over his eyes as he lowered his head, so that he could whisper in her ear. “There are far better prospects for you, you know.”

She shook her head, striving to keep things light. “Are there?”

“You know there are.”

“Alec…” She exhaled, her beautiful face unknowingly shadowed by the seriousness of her thoughts. “I think we need to talk.”

“Uh oh. No conversation that starts with that invitation ends with good news.”

She nodded. “I know. Still. I think it’s important.”

She stopped swaying in time to the music.

Alec nodded, finally, and took her hand in his. “You really want to do this?”

Not really. “Yes.”

“Okay. Come on.”

He led them away from the dance floor, towards the marquee. He paused briefly to scoop up two empty glasses and a bottle of champagne from an attended bar.

“Not here.” She shook her head. “There’s another garden.”

She moved ahead of him, pulling him behind, as she skirted the side of the house.

“Where are you taking us to? The orient?” He grumbled after several minutes’ walk.

“In a manner of speaking,” she said with a grin.

“Seriously, Aurora, can we not just speak here? It’s perfectly private.”

“Shhh. You’ll like this.”

They emerged into the Japanese garden just a moment later. A spectacular triumph to the Victorians’ obsession with the formal style of the mysterious East; the garden was surrounded by topiaried bushes, a small running stream and waterfall, enormous goldfish and a white gravel garden that rendered the walker Zen by its presence alone.

“Woah. What is this place?”

“It’s called the Shinzoto garden. It was designed for a visiting ambassador from Japan, in the fifties.” She ran her hands over a thick bristled bush, enjoying the sensation of spikes against her skin. “After the war, Beatrice’s great grandparents wanted to show the diplomat that they were amenable to continuing their trade relationship. Despite the war. This was a sort of statement to that.”

He looked around quietly. “It’s very beautiful.”

“I know. I’ve always felt so at peace here.”

“And how do you know so much about it?”

“I beg your pardon?”

He poured the champagne he’d brought into the glasses and leaned the bottle against a tree stem. He crossed the distance to her quickly and passed a glass to her. “I mean, do you know about Beatrice’s great grandparents because she told you? Or because Leonardo Fontana did?”

“Oh.” She shifted a little. “That’s what I need to speak to you about.”

Alec lifted a finger and pressed it against her lips. “Hang on a moment, Aurora. I think I know what you’re going to say. Let me go first.”

Above them, the perfect Summer evening was decorated by a thousand sparkles in the ink colored sky. She looked at it now, wondering if ancient Gods of Roman times were staring at her, enjoying her predicament. She sipped the champagne and sighed.

“We’ve been hanging out. And it’s great. But I know that you have a history with Fontana. I knew that all along.” He clinked his glass against hers in a silent cheers. “I didn’t expect to fall in love with you.”

“Oh, God.” She closed her eyes. “Alec, please don’t. Please don’t tell me you care for me like that.”

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