‘Look.’ He points to a plaque on the wall.
‘The J K Rowling Suite! What was it the receptionist told usabout her staying here?’
‘Apparently, she finished writingHarry Potter and theDeathly Hallowsin that very room back in 2007.’
‘Wow. I love Harry Potter.’
‘Never seen the movies.’
I stare at him in fake horror. ‘What,noneof them?What kind of a heathen are you?’
He chuckles, slipping his arm around my waist and pulling meagainst him. ‘I’d love to watch them with you some time,’ he murmurs, close tomy ear, and the warmth of his breath sends a delicious shiver through me.
We kiss once more in the lift and this time, it’s achinglygentle, as if we’re intent on exploring each other, and the sensations rushingthrough my body make me make me feel as if I’m flying up to the stars.
And then finally, we reach my door.
He takes me in his arms and we gaze into each other’s eyes fora moment. Then he leans in and kisses me gently on the lips.
‘See you tomorrow?’ he murmurs.
I nod, trying to pull myself together but actually justwanting to open my door and drag him into my room by his lapels. I clear mythroat. ‘What time are you collecting the Jag in the morning?’
‘Ten. So we can have a leisurely breakfast first.’
‘Good.’ I grin at him. ‘A portion of marmalade probablycosts ten quid here, so we should definitely make the most of breakfastincluded in the price.’
He smiles. ‘Thrifty as well as gorgeous. I like it.’ Heturns away, a reluctant look on his handsome face. ‘Sleep well.’
‘Oh, I will,’ I murmur with feeling.
I wait until he’s opened his own door further along thecorridor and turned towards me.
‘Night!’ I whisper. Then I retreat into my room, feeling asif I’m walking on air, which could just be the effect of the plush carpetbeneath my feet, except I really don’t think so...
CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX
The first thing I think about on waking next morningis the delicious prospect of spending a second day with Doug – except this timewe won’t be on a train. I’ll be in the passenger seat of a powerful Jag, beingdriven by a man who definitely knows his way around a gearbox!
And now, that beautiful bath is calling me again.
Smiling, I push back the duvet and leap out of bed and head tothe bathroom, looking forward to trying out more of the luxurious toiletries.
I set the taps running, pouring in a generous amount of bathoil while I wash and condition my hair in the shower, and when I emerge, thebath temperature is just right. I wrap my hair in a white towel and slide intothe perfumed water with a sigh.
I feel like I’m living the life of a movie star! A dreamcottage in the country, driving a car most people would envy, enjoying awonderful night in an exclusive hotel in the Scottish capital, and thetantalising hope of romance with a gorgeous man. And I’ve still got plenty ofmoney stashed away for when I start my new career in interior design. Not thatthere’s any rush to start the course immediately. I’d like some time to just enjoythe money first before I have to go back to studying...
Could life get any better?
Even April – a major thorn in my side for weeks – seems tohave disappeared from the scene. Moving away and shaking her off was the bestthing I ever did.
Hair dried and make-up done, I pull on my newest pair ofjeans, some heels and a cute floral-patterned top that cost far too much butwhich I justhadto buy when I was in London because it quite clearlyhad my name on it. It’s never wise to fall in love with an item of clothing andgo away to think about it. By the time you go back, the last one in your sizewill have gone. (That’s my justification and I’m sticking by it.)
When I knock on Doug’s door, he takes a while to answer andwhen he does, he’s rubbing his wet hair with a towel.
‘Hi. Sorry. I was just shaving. Come in.’ He smilesthatsmile– the one that melts my insides. ‘Looking particularly gorgeous this morning,Miss Cartwright.’
‘Why, thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.’ I give hisbum a slap and he laughs and disappears into the bathroom.
