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Estelle smiled and nodded. She was perched on the side of the bed, back in her dressing gown.
Panic sliced through him. ‘What’s the time?’ He threw back the covers she must have laid over him and sat up.
She put her hand on his arm. ‘It’s okay. You’ve got twenty minutes at least before you need to leave.’
Sinking his head in relief, he pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘I can’t believe I fell asleep.’
She put her arms around him and brought her mouth to his ear. ‘Did I break you?’
He huffed. Estelle had broken, schooled and tethered him, but he wasn’t going to let her know that. He’d already given up more of himself than he’d intended, and falling asleep was a level of vulnerability he’d never stooped to before.
‘Sleep was a physiological response to a near death experience.’
‘I’ll take that as a “yes” then. Do you want me to make you a coffee? I don’t have a poncy set-up like you, but I have a cafetiere, a milk frother, and a pod machine. And I can lend you a travel mug.’
He raised his head. ‘Thank you. Could you please make me a cappuccino with a double shot? I hear all the best people drink them.’
She grinned and hopped off the bed. ‘That they do. I’ll see you downstairs. You know where the bathroom is if you need it.’
James watched her go, then let out a breath. He didn’t want to leave. The thought of what lay ahead of him in China sat like a lead weight in his stomach. Swinging his legs out of bed, he went to the bathroom, then redressed and went to find Estelle.
As soon as he opened the kitchen door, Chester and Joy raced to him with excited yelps. James couldn’t help but smile.
Estelle rolled her eyes and crossed her arms with a huff. ‘They’re never this excited to see me.’
He crouched down, stroking Joy with one hand, the other rolling Chester onto his back as the little dog wrestled with him. ‘It’s just because I’m new.’
‘That’s bollocks and you know it. They go this mental because you’re a great big slab of testosterone that’s been dosed in dognip cologne.’
‘Ah yes, the pheromone magic potion you think I bathe in.’
She poured milk foam into a large travel mug. ‘I stand by my accusation of witchcraft. If Eveline wasn’t so bloody nice, I’d get her to goad her acolytes into coming after you with pitchforks.’
As if to reinforce her theory, Chester began pistoning his hips against his knee, and Joy, his arm. He stood and pointed at the crate. ‘Go to bed.’
They trotted inside.
He shut the door behind them. ‘Lie down.’
They did.
‘Go to sleep.’
Joy lay her head on her paws and closed her eyes. Chester was still gazing at him in hopeful excitement, tail thumping on the blankets behind him.
‘See?’ Estelle passed him the travel mug. ‘Witchcraft.’
‘Their behaviour is entirely your fault.’
‘Excuse me?’ she spluttered.
‘Unless, of course, you want to blame Eveline?’
She frowned at him in confusion.
‘Does she often give you lost property from the church?’
She froze as the penny dropped.
