she didn’t move away. When he kissed the corner of her mouth, she twisted her head ever so slightly towards him, so her mouth brushed against his properly.
And Hugh was completely lost.
He tightened his arms round her and kissed her again, teasing her mouth with tiny, nibbling kisses until she let her lips part and he could deepen the kiss. It felt as if he were floating on air. Every sense was filled by her. And it had been a long, long time since he’d felt anything even approaching this.
He wasn’t sure how long it was until he broke the kiss. But her mouth was reddened and her eyes were wide and bemused; he was pretty sure he looked in a similar state.
They needed to get out of here, before someone noticed or commented.
‘Come with me?’ he asked softly. ‘Away from the crowd?’
She nodded, and he tangled his fingers with hers and led her quietly out of the ballroom and down the corridor to a room he knew would still be in darkness.
‘Where are we?’ Bella asked when Hugh led her into a darkened room.
‘The orangery,’ he said.
Once her eyes grew accustomed to the light, she realised that one whole wall was made of glass, and the moonlight shone through onto an ancient chequered red and cream flagstone floor. All along the walls were massive terracotta pots containing what she presumed were citrus trees; there were a couple of what looked like wrought-iron benches between the pots.
‘Wait,’ he said, and let go of her hand.
A few moments later, she heard a soft click, and then suddenly the room was glowing softly with dozens of tiny fairy lights twined round the stems of the trees.
‘Hugh, this is amazing,’ she said in delight. ‘It’s magical.’
‘Isn’t it just?’ he said. ‘We had a film crew here when I was in my teens, and the set designer said this was where people would sneak off for some privacy at a Regency house party, among the lemons and limes and oranges. She reckoned they’d have had candles and it would’ve been beautiful.’
‘Just like this.’
He nodded. ‘Someone suggested fairy lights as a modern take on it without the fire risk. Since then, we’ve often sat out here after the sun sets, just watching the stars, with the fairy lights on. And a heater, in winter, because otherwise it’s absolutely freezing.’ He came back to hold her hand, and drew her over to one of the benches. ‘This is probably my favourite place in the house. Even in the daytime, it’s lovely.’
He’d promised her a guided tour of the house tomorrow, and she intended to hold him to that. But right now, when he sat down on one of the wrought iron benches and drew her onto his lap, she couldn’t think straight. All she could do was to put her arms round his neck for balance. And from there it was one tiny step to kissing him again.
Time seemed to stop. It was just them, the moonlight and the fairy lights. Nobody came out to find them or ask Hugh to play the piano or Bella to sketch. They could’ve been light years away from anywhere.
But they could still hear the music.
‘Dance with me?’ he asked.
Even though part of her knew that this wasn’t sensible—it was too intimate, just the two of them in the orangery among the fairy lights—how could she resist?
They swayed together in the room.
Any moment now, she thought, he’d say something to remind her that they were both playing a part.
And yet he didn’t. He just danced with her. Held her close. Cherished her.
It was so long since she’d been held like that. It made her feel warm inside. Warm all over. And when Hugh rested his cheek against hers, even though she’d promised herself she’d be sensible, she found herself moving that little bit closer to him. Turning her head so her mouth made contact with the corner of his. His arms tightened round her and he moved his head too, so his lips brushed against hers. Once, twice: and then he was kissing her with abandon, and she was kissing him right back.
She was dizzy with desire when he broke the kiss.
‘Hugh—I, we...’ She couldn’t think straight. There was something important she had to say, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember what it was. She just wanted him to kiss her again.
She trailed her fingertips across his cheek, liking the very faint scratch of stubble. ‘You’re beautiful,’ she said. ‘Poster-boy beautiful.’
He turned his head and pressed a kiss into her palm. ‘Less of the boy, thank you.’
Oh, yes. He was all man. ‘I didn’t mean it that way,’ she said. ‘Just that you’re beautiful.’
‘So are you.’ He kissed her again. ‘You make me ache.’
She dragged in a breath. ‘Ditto.’ An ache of wanting, of need. He was driving her crazy with his nearness.
‘I know this isn’t supposed to be happening, but right now,’ he said softly, ‘I don’t want to go back and join the others. I want to carry you up the stairs to your bed.’
The big, wide four-poster.
‘I want to make love with you, Bella.’
A shiver of pure desire ran down her spine.
She knew they shouldn’t be doing this. It wasn’t what they’d agreed. She was his pretend girlfriend, not his real one. He was her boss. It could have major repercussions and she could end up in another financial mess. They really ought to stop this right now and remember who and where they were. She opened her mouth, intending to say that they shouldn’t.
Then again, this wasn’t real. And she knew neither of them was looking for for ever. Kirk had wiped out her trust in relationships, and from the little Hugh had said about his ex she was pretty sure that he felt the same way. He wasn’t looking for The One, any more than she was.
They were both adults.
There was no reason why they shouldn’t act on the attraction between them, just for one night.
So instead, she said softly, ‘Tonight’s just tonight. A one-off.’
His eyes looked almost navy blue in the soft light. ‘No strings.’
‘No promises.’ She didn’t believe in promises any more. ‘No for ever.’
‘No promises and no for ever,’ he echoed.
‘Then do it,’ she said softly.
He kissed her once. Hard. And then he scooped her up into his arms, pausing only to switch off the fairy lights, and carried her down the corridor and up a quiet flight of stairs to her bedroom.
