“Does he scare you?” he asked.
“Mmmm.” I thought about it. “He used to, but now I see that he’s really just a teddy bear disguised as a tiger.”
“Funny you should mention a disguise. I know someone who’s really an actress disguised as an assistant.” He stood up too.
“You don’t say,” I teased.
We stood there in silence smiling at each other again.
“So, your guest room?” I finally asked.
“It’s outside,” he said.
We walked across the room, through the kitchen and out the back door. It was freezing and I shivered immediately.
“Oh wow!” I grabbed my arms and hugged myself.
He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and we hurried across the garden to where the cottage was. He slipped the key in, opened the door and flicked on the lights.
“Wow. This place is bigger than my apartment,” I said, looking around.
“Anything is bigger than your apartment,” he said with a smile. He turned the heater on and soon a warm blast of air filled the room.
“There are extra blankets in the cupboard,” he said.
“Thanks.”
He walked up to me and placed his hands around my waist. “God, I would love to stay with you here tonight, but I don’t think I can be away from the house, because of Emmy, and I’m not sure you should sleep in my bed.”
“No!” I held my hand up. “Of course, you must sleep in your own room. I get it. And I’m sure it would be a bit awkward if Emmy found me in your bed.”
“Probably. Definitely,” he said.
“So, I guess this is good night then?” I said.
“I guess it is.” His hands ran down my waist, then onto my hips, and he pulled me towards him. “I’m happy I get to see you in a few hours for work.”
“Work? And how on earth are we going to work with each other now, after everything that’s happened between us? It’s going to be very distracting.”
“I’m very professional, Miss Granger. I’ll be able to work. You won’t distract me, I assure you.” He said it like he meant it, but I wasn’t sure. “And if you don’t mind, can we keep this a secret until I work out how to play this so it doesn’t backfire on me?”
“Play it? Backfire? You make this whole thing sound terrible.”
“Sometimes it is,” he said.
“Then why do you do it? Why do you work there if you hate your job?” I asked.
“I don’t hate it,” he said quickly. “I just don’t like it.”
I raised my hand and put it on the side of his face. “Well, that’s really sad,” I said softly.
“It is what it is, I guess.” He slipped his hand over mine and leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. Soft and slow and sensual.
“Is there anything you like about it?” I asked.
He looked like he thought about this for a while. “I guess I enjoy the initial design phase of building. In another life I might have been an architect I guess,” he said.
“You still can,” I offered.
