I gave her a tight hug. “Hey. It’s good to see you. Sorry it’s been so long.”
She pulled back and grasped my arms, giving me that loving look the way moms in cornball movies sometimes did. “It shouldn’t surprise me that we have to travel out here to see each other when we live in the same damned city, but it does.”
I turned and reached for Grey’s hand to pull him closer. “Binnie, this is Grey. Grey, Binnie Duckworth.”
She put out her hand for him to shake, but he pulled it to his lips and kissed it. “Ma’am. Thank you for hosting us at your beautiful home. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s both elegant and comfortable. I can’t imagine the memories you’ve made here over the years.”
I stared at him. Where the hell had this guy come from? Grey stage-whispered at me out of the corner of his mouth. “Stop staring at me. I can be polite when I choose to be.”
Binnie’s laughter filled the space around us, and I could tell she was instantly charmed. “I love it. And thank you for your kind words. This place is special to us, and we always enjoy sharing it with family and friends. Make yourself at home, dear.”
Grey slid his arm around me and pulled me close. “This one has told me all of his favorite parts with special attention paid to the fresh scones at breakfast and the lobster at dinner. I worry a little about what else we might do besides eating. It seems that’s the only activity he recalls with any clarity.”
I smacked his chest with the back of my hand and muttered, “Ass.”
Binnie laughed again and told him I was right. The chef was worth his weight in gold. She told us a few of the special meals and dishes they’d planned for the week, and Grey expressed his anticipation. At one point, while he spoke of a particularly memorable seafood dinner he’d had on a business trip to Maine, Binnie glanced at me and winked.
She liked him. She approved.
My gut soured at the thought of disappointing her someday soon by telling her there would be no future between me and this charming man. Something in my body language must have changed because Grey glanced down at me with a frown.
“You okay?”
I smiled. “’Course.”
Grey lifted his free hand to run his thumb along my cheekbone. I watched his face and wondered what he was doing.
“Eyelash,” he murmured before turning back to Binnie and continuing the conversation. My eyes stayed glued to him as my stomach somersaulted from his gentle caress. His touch made me hungry for more.
Throughout the evening, I began to feel like a child at a parade. Grey Blackwood was the celebrity on the float, throwing out handfuls of candy. I desperately wanted him to look at me, notice me, give me just a taste of something sweet. A tiny piece would do.
While he calmly moved from person to person, charming everyone with interesting stories or by asking people to share their favorite travel destinations or a recent book or movie recommendation, I slowly but decisively lost my ever-loving shit.
I wanted to sleep with him. Like… actually fuck him. Kiss him, suck his dick, run my hands over every inch of his naked body. All of it. I wanted him with a kind of desperate hunger that almost scared me, or would have if he wasn’t so freaking comforting and reassuring. He stood or sat by my side all night with either a relaxed arm around my waist or his hand in mine. Even when we were separated and talking to different people, every time I searched for him, I found him glancing over to make sure he knew where I was.
And it wasn’t because he was nervous. At least, I didn’t think it was. He seemed to handle himself just fine. I thought maybe it was because he had the same need I did to know where the other was at all times. Somehow we’d become a team, two halves of a whole who gravitated toward each other as a default.
I’d expected him to spend the first evening out of sorts. He’d supposedly been nervous about not knowing how to handle himself, but then he’d come in and wooed everyone. And once he’d told me about golfing with Richard Branson? I should have known this wouldn’t have been the first time he’d be in company with some of society’s elites. The man golfed at exclusive clubs, had been to a Yankees game as a personal guest of Hal Steinbrenner, and had dined with Ariana Rockefeller. He was no stranger to manners, and yet, I could see as the night went on the encounters seemed to wear on him.
By the time the old grandfather clock in the corner of the large drawing room struck midnight, I had begun to feel a very faint tremor in the hand I held.
I cleared my throat and spoke to the group of Duckworth cousins we’d been talking to about current investment opportunities in personal space travel, a topic I couldn’t have possibly cared less about. “Sorry to duck out for the night, but it’s been a long day. Binnie said there’s a tennis round-robin tomorrow, and I need to get plenty of sleep if I plan to wipe the courts with all of you.” I stood and shot them a cheeky grin, pulling Grey up beside me.
We said our good-nights, making sure to stop by the seating area where Binnie and Ian were holding court to thank them for dinner. Once we left the room, I dropped my smile but held on to Grey’s hand. I planned to enjoy it as much as I could before we were alone in the room and he went back to treating me like a business partner, or worse, his mortal enemy.
“If I’d known you were tired, I would have made our excuses earlier,” he said softly as we headed up the grand staircase.
“No, it’s fine. I’m not too tired. I’ve just had enough small talk for the night.” I didn’t mention my assumption that he was the tired one.
“Did you determine when we’re to expect your parents’ arrival?”
We turned down the hallway toward the wing that held our bedroom. “Tomorrow afternoon, I think. I’m glad we were able to have tonight without that added stress.”
When we entered the room, I noticed the bed had been turned down. Fresh flowers were in a vase on the desk, and a little tray sat next to it with bottled water, a small bottle of wine, two crystal glasses, and a ceramic dish of individually wrapped chocolates. It reminded me of something that might have been in a honeymoon suite, even though I knew it was a standard evening treat with the turndown service provided by the stewards who tended the rooms during the house party.
Suddenly, the bed seemed huge. I hadn’t let myself think much of it before now, but if I was going to insist it was time for bed, someone was going to have to face the elephant in the room.
“Oh,” I said without thinking.
Grey’s small huff of laughter filled the quiet room. “Oh, indeed. Don’t tell me you faced all of those people, one of whom was literally British royalty, and now you’re afraid of a bed.”
“Pfft, me? Pfft. Afraid of a bed? Pfft.” How many times was I going to pfft? I glanced around as if looking for the hidden Murphy bed in one of the walls. Maybe if I tilted a particular decorative sculpture forward, the panel would slide open, revealing a second bedroom…
“Change out of your clothes and get in bed, Ells. You can make a little Hadrian’s Wall down the center if it will make you feel more comfortable.”
I noticed Grey wasn’t paying much attention to me despite the teasing. He’d found his phone and began scrolling through the messages Marcel had no doubt sent him while we’d been away from the room.