“I uh... I don’t want you to think I’m crazy...”
He chuckledlightly, tracing circles into the silky softness of her nightie.“Aren’t we all a little crazy? Isn’t that what makes lifeinteresting?”
She smiled athis humour but forged on. He deserved to know everything. And forsome reason, the need to confess it all overwhelmed her. Restingher hand over his, she spoke, “I have anxiety issues. It’ssomething I’ve had to deal with for years. I’d love to say it’sgetting better but it’s only gotten worse. There’s so much I wantto do, so much I want to see, but my anxiety won’t let me.”
“Yet here you are,” he said pensively.
“Only because of you.”
“And why is that, exactly?”
“Because...” She paused, wondering how to say it. But she owedhim the truth after all this trouble. “Because I’ve wanted to cometo England forever and then you showed up looking the way you do,and suddenly, I got very brave. I couldn’t let you take myitinerary and go off without me.” When he didn’t laugh, shecontinued. “When you came into the shop that first day, you took mybreath away. It’s so very hard to explain.”
“Try harder,” he said with a curl of his lips. If anyoneunderstood anxiety it was him. She obviously didn’t understand whoshe was dealing with. Or did she?
“You picked my bracelet...” she said with a hitch in her voice.“Out of all the fancy, flashy pieces of jewellery, you chose myfavourite.”
At that he didchuckle, turning his hand, wrapping it around hers and stroking thecharm in question. “I had no choice. You beguiled me with yoursales prowess.”
“No, you chose it. In the end, you chose it, and that meanssomething to me. Anyway, I couldn’t get you out of my head. Youwere like a dream come true for me. Like a fairytale come to life.”Only because it was dark, could she find a reason for telling himall of this. If he could see her, he would see that she wasblushing brighter than a sun-ripened tomato. She paused then,waiting to hear what he would say. She then felt him chuckle andfor a moment she was devastated. He was laughing at her. Of course,he was. What had she been thinking? She tensed and started to turnaway.
“Hey, not so fast.” He dragged her back into his chest andpositioned himself behind her again. “I’m not done listening. Thisis fascinating stuff. Tell me more. What about me exactly took yourbreath away? Hmm?”
“Everything...” She turned her head into the pillow,embarrassed.
“You like me, huh? You like the way I look?”
She nodded intothe pillow. “The way you look, the way you speak, the way youmove.”
“Dear God, you are a woman obsessed.” To say he wasn’tflattered would be a lie. But he was well aware of his good looks.It was all he had going as far as he was concerned and while heused his looks to get him through life, he was not about to believeher obsession was anything more than a passing crush. The classicstory of a bookish mundane girl lusting after the bad goth boy.He’d been there done that enough times to write his own book aboutit.
“And you make me feel safe,” she squeaked out, giggling atherself. Why in the world was she laughing? She knew why. Becauseeverything about the man and the situation made her giddy to thepoint where nothing else mattered.
At heradmission, he rested his head on hers and gave into fits oflaughter. It was now Crispin’s turn to blush. Crispin never blushedunder any circumstances and that in itself gave him cause towonder. “Go to sleep you cheeky monkey. We have lots to see in themorning.”
Chapter 14
Sitting in thecommunal breakfast room, Gwen glanced despondently out the windowat the relentless rain. So much for well-laid plans, she thoughtwith a sigh. The sound of Crispin drawing his chair back from thesmall table, stirred her from her musings. My, was he a sight firstthing in the morning. He was all spruced up and ready to go, hislong dark hair, wavy and flowing down his back. His face wasflawless and smooth. He wore just a hint of charcoal eyeliner whichhighlighted his dove grey eyes in a most sublime manner. Yes,Crispin Clover was a vision, to be sure, but of all his notableattributes, Gwen loved his hands the best. Today, his manicuredfingernails were devoid of polish. He wore black on black again invarious layers of fitted body-skimming pieces.
They had wokenup together but he had insisted she use the bathroom first while hepicked out his wardrobe. It hadn’t taken her long to get ready. Shehad pre-planned all her ensembles to avoid last minute decisionmaking. He, on the other hand, had gone through the entire contentsof his suitcase. She’d actually had to vacate the room to stopherself from giggling at his fussing and preening. The man wasquite particular, but the end result was ultimately worth it.
“What have you there?” he asked, studying her breakfastplate.
“Tea, toast with butter and jam. I would have waited for youbut I was hungry.”
“And you’ll be hungry still if you don’t get yourself a properbreakfast.” He pointed at her plate again. Before she couldrespond, one of the two servers approached and with anindistinguishable accent took Crispin’s order. “Coffee for me, andwe’ll both have the Full English Breakfast, please.”
Gwen waiteduntil the lady retreated before protesting. “I hope you are hungryenough to eat both.”
“Nonsense, you’ll get through it,” he said, unbothered.“Besides, breakfast is included. Why not get the best bang for yourbuck? Also, here you are in England. Why not try something out ofthe ordinary, some local fair?”
“Do you realize what comes with an English Breakfast? I don’tnormally eat a lot first thing in the morning.”
“Humour me.” He flashed her his most charming smile. He’dawoken in a splendid mood which surprised him. He was quite lookingforward to his time here. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but he had apretty good idea.
“Okay, fine,” she said with a smile of surrender.
“Good girl, now, what’s the plan for today? Where are we goingfirst, tour guide?”
At hisquestion, Gwen frowned and let out a
