in first class. I belong in steerage,’ she said.
‘Surely that’s up to me to decide?’
She turned and faced him. It unnerved him a little to see she had a stone rather than a pebble clutched in her fist. Her eyes flashed at him. ‘What are you trying to do? Conduct your own Pygmalion experiment? Well, guess what, Mr Higgins? I’m no fair lady.’
‘No; you’re a bad tempered little miss who seems intent on biting the hand that’s generously offered to feed you.’
She glowered at him with her chest rising and falling as if she was only just managing to control her fury. ‘You didn’t offer me anything,’ she shot back. ‘You don’t want me here any more than I want to be here.’
‘True, but you’re here now and it seems mature and sensible to make the best of the situation.’
Holly turned and flung the stone at the lake but it hit a tree on the left-hand side with a loud thwack. ‘How are you going to explain me to your fancy friends or family?’ she said.
‘I don’t feel the necessity to explain myself to anyone.’
‘Lucky you.’
Where was the cheeky little flirt now? he wondered. In her place was a woman brooding with anger. Anger so thick he could feel it in the air like the humidity before a violent storm.
Julius picked up a pebble and sent it skimming across the surface of the lake. ‘That’s a personal best,’ he said as he counted fifteen skips. ‘Think you can match it?’
She turned and looked at him with a watchful gaze. ‘What about your girlfriend? What’s she going to say when she hears you’ve got me living with you?’
He bent down and picked up another pebble, rolling it over to check its suitability. ‘I don’t have a current girlfriend.’
‘When was your last one?’
He glanced at her before he skimmed the pebble. ‘You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?’
‘I know you’re not gay because no gay man would look at me the way you did back in your office,’ she said. ‘You fancy me, don’t you?’
Julius tightened his mouth as he reached down for another pebble. ‘Your ego is as appalling as your manners.’
She gave a cynical laugh as she threw another pebble, even farther this time, as if all her pent up energy went into the throw. ‘I suppose no one without a university degree with honours need apply. So what do you talk about in bed? Quantum physics? Einstein’s theory of relativity?’
He looked down at her upturned face with its mocking smile and impossibly cute dimples. What was it about her that made him feel this was all a front? He was all too familiar with theatrical talent. His parents were some of the best in the theatre. Even he had to acknowledge that. But this defiant tearaway was putting on an award-winning performance. ‘Why don’t you want the room Sophia prepared for you?’ he asked.
Her eyes lost their cheeky sparkle and her expression became sulky again. ‘I don’t want to be shoved at the top of your grand old house like some freak you want to hide in case she does the wrong thing in front of your fancy guests. I suppose you’ll insist on me taking my meals in there or with the servants in the kitchen.’
‘I don’t have servants,’ Julius said. ‘I have staff. And, yes, they make their own arrangements over dining but that’s more out of convenience than convention.’ He paused for a beat before adding. ‘I expect you to dine with me each evening.’ Are you out of your mind? The less time you spend with her the better.
‘Why?’ she said with a surly look. ‘So you can criticise me when I use the wrong fork or knife?’
‘Why do you think everyone you meet is automatically against you?’
She turned and looked at the lake rather than meet his gaze. He could see the flicker of a tiny muscle in her cheek as if she was grinding down on her molars. It was a while before she spoke and when she did it was with a voice that was pitched slightly lower than normal with a distinctly husky edge. ‘I don’t want that room.’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s...too posh.’
‘Fine,’ Julius said, mentally rolling his eyes. ‘You can choose your own room. God knows there are plenty to choose from.’
‘Thank you.’ It was not much more than a whisper of sound and she still wasn’t looking at him but there was something in her posture that suggested enormous relief. Her shoulders had lost their tense, bunched-up-to-her-ears look. Her spine was no longer ramrod straight. Her hands were not curled into tight fists or clutching pebbles but hanging loosely by her sides.
He had a strong urge to reach out, take one of her hands and give it a reassuring squeeze but somehow refrained from doing so. Just. ‘Do you want to walk back with me or hang around down here for a little bit?’ he said.
She turned her head to look at him. ‘Aren’t you worried I might run away when your back is turned?’
He studied her for a moment, taking in her shuttered gaze and the pouty set to her mouth. ‘You’d be running towards prison if you do. Hardly something to look forward to, is it?’
She bit down on her lower lip and turned to look at a water bird that had flown in to land in the centre of the lake, its paddling feet sending out concentric circles of disturbance. He watched as a slight breeze played with some loose tendrils of her hair and she absently brushed them back with one of her hands. His chest gave a sharp little squeeze when he saw her hand was shaking. There was no sign of the tough, angry girl. No sign of the brash guttersnipe. Right then she looked like your average girl next door who had suddenly found herself at an anxiety-inducing crossroads.
Julius bent down, picked up a pebble and handed it to her. ‘My brother Jake holds the record down here. Seventeen skips.’
She took the pebble from him but as her fingers touched his he felt an electric shock run up along his arm. She slowly raised her gaze to mesh with his. A pulsing moment passed when he lost all sense of time and place. It could have been seconds or minutes or even days.
His eyes kept tracking to her mouth, the shape of it, the fullness of it that suggested passion and heat, and yet a strange sense of untouched innocence. He felt like a magnet was pulling his head down towards it. He had to fight every muscle and sinew and throbbing cell in his body to counter its force.
He watched as the tip of her tongue slipped out between her lips and moistened the top lip, then the bottom one, leaving each one glistening with a tempting sheen. Blood rushed to his groin, thickening him with a rocket blast of lust.
He had a sudden feeling he had been asleep all of his life until this moment. It was like coming out of cold storage. A slow melt was moving through his body; he could feel it all the way to his fingertips, the urge, the compulsion to touch, to feel her soft skin, sliding, stroking, moving against his own.
His mind was not following its usual logical pathways. It was short-circuiting with erotic images, hot fantasies of him burying himself inside her body, bringing them both to completion in a matter of seconds.
Could
