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Putting a hand to his jaw, he held it firmly in ‘catalogue man pose number four - complex thought’, the main purpose of which was to prevent a smile from spreading across his face.
‘Some urgent work stuff came up.’ He stretched, deliberately allowing his jacket to open, and his jumper and shirt to ride up, revealing his lower abs.
‘She’s an archaeologist!’ Estelle replied indignantly, her eyes flicking to his happy trail.
Jackpot.
‘How could anything archaeological be urgent?’ she continued. ‘Some bones about to go past their use-by date? Stonehenge about to fall down?’
James shrugged. Sophia was the only person in the world he’d told his deepest secret to—that he liked Estelle. Really liked her. So, she’d told him she wouldn’t come today.
He knew nothing was going to happen between himself and Estelle. It wasn’t just the situation they were in that meant they needed to keep their relationship professional. And it definitely wasn’t the fact her twin hated him. The biggest obstacle was that Estelle still believed ninety-nine per cent of him was the devil incarnate.
However, that didn’t stop him from wanting to spend time with her out of the office, or getting to know the most attractive and challenging woman he’d ever met.
Her hands were now on her hips. Her extremely shapely hips. Hips that were wearing tight-fitting jodhpurs. Hips that James wanted to hold onto for dear life as she rode him, her powerful thighs squeezing until—
‘Well?’
He shrugged again to give him time to order his thoughts. ‘I don’t know. Something about a LiDAR machine?’
Estelle crossed her arms, pushing her breasts higher.
James’s mouth watered.
‘I like your sister. She’s your antimatter.’
He raised an eyebrow.
‘You’re Satan in a sharp suit and she’s an angel.’
‘She is an angel, but I’m not the devil.’
Estelle didn’t reply.
James saw that as progress. ‘I can go home if you’d rather?’
Surprise flickered across her face, as if everything negative she’d just said was actually code for ‘I really want you here, please don’t leave’.
Throwing her hands in the air, she huffed as if to keep up appearances. ‘You might as well stay. I’m all dressed up now.’
Her words were enough of an invitation for his gaze to rake unashamedly down and back up her body, taking in the tweed waistcoat over her white shirt, the top buttons of which were open to reveal her ample cleavage, the figure-hugging fawn jodhpurs and the fuck-me-now riding boots.
His dick twitched with appreciation and he quickly turned to the boot of his car, taking out a pair of wellies.
Behind him, Estelle giggled. ‘They even match your poncy silk scarf. Are they brand new?’
Facing her, he nodded. ‘I’m not much of a country boy.’
The use of those words, referencing Estelle’s dating profile name of ‘Country Girl’, was entirely deliberate and completely effective. Her eyes widened and her plump lips parted with shock. James kept his features bland, but inside he was fist-pumping and yelling ‘COME ON’, like he’d just sunk a hole-in-one. She’d read his profile and now knew he liked her.
‘I’m going to get Duke and find out where Chester and Joy have got to.’ She walked off.
Play it cool. He took off his shoes and pulled the wellies on. Just enjoy the moment. His nose wrinkled. Easier said than done when surrounded by forty shades of shit. Much as James was attracted to Estelle, he didn’t have the same admiration for the countryside. The natural world could be pleasant, but best experienced by a stroll through Kew Gardens or by buying a houseplant. James appreciated posh and expensive nature, not this bargain-basement mud-fest.
Chester and Joy ran at full pelt around the corner of the stable block towards him, tails wagging. James stroked them, whilst making sure neither of them tried to fornicate with his two-hundred-pound jeans.
The countryside may have been dirty and smelly, but all of that was forgotten when Estelle reappeared, leading her enormous horse, a bow slung over her shoulder and a quiver of arrows hanging at her hip. James already felt them hitting his heart and his crotch.
