Wesley snorted. “Of course you do.”
“I hope we see cows too.”
“Cows.”
“And goats, and chickens, and piglets. Perhaps there are cats in the barn?”
“I thought we were going to York.”
Sebastian shrugged, but he had a small smile of his own. “Did you want me toknock you on your arsefirst?” he said innocently, gesturing at Wesley’s cigarette.
Oh, that was so much sexier than it had any right to be, the playful smile, the big doe eyes, the fact that this man had magic and could flatten Wesley with his mind.
Wesley inhaled the vile smoke deeply. “Yes, please.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Come show me your car. It is this way, no?”
He set off. Wesley dropped the half-smoked cigarette to the stone and ground it out under his foot, then caught up.
The garage sat apart from the manor itself, big enough for at least four cars, although there was only the one inside. Wesley pulled open the garage door, and the gray light streamed into the space onto the blanket-covered car.
Together, they pulled the blanket off, and Sebastian’s eyes lit up.
“Is that a Bentley?” He was walking back toward the car like a magnet.
“Yes,” Wesley said, setting the cover aside. “Blue Label tourer, same as I have in London, although I’m not entirely certain this one is going to start.”
“I will get her to start,” Sebastian promised.
Wesley scoffed lightly. “What, does your magic work on cars?”
“My tío had a Model T in San Juan.” Sebastian ran his hand along the passenger door frame—what would have been the driver’s door on his American cars—and then over the top of the spare tire mounted on the car’s side. “Cars must be brought by boat to Puerto Rico. On islands, we don’t take things for granted and I learned to keep ours running. Sometimes, in the army, we found cars in towns, and I’d get those running too.”
He was studying the roof, which was folded down at the moment, and then glanced into the backseat. Then he bent over the side of the car, and Wesley had to swallow down the noise that nearly escaped his throat.
Sebastian’s voice floated up from the car. “And you have all the driving gear!”
“I have the what now?” Wesley said, voice too high.
“The accessories.”
“Oh. I mean, of course I do, help yourself,” Wesley managed to say. He quickly turned away to pull two spare umbrellas out of the stand.
When he turned back, Sebastian had pulled on the leather gloves, and was adjusting a pair of driving goggles on his face. He still wore his cap and his scarf and he looked like he’d just stepped out of a younger Wesley’s dreams.
Then, to make it worse, he grinned at Wesley. “How do I look?”
Was Wesley actually supposed to stand this without bending him right back over the car? “Does every bleeding thing you wear suit you perfectly?”
Sebastian froze. “Um—”
“Oh, come off it,” said Wesley. “You have to know you’re a handsome man. A compliment to your looks is hardly going to make theTimes; it’s like saying the sky is blue.”
“But the sky is gray today.”
“Do I have to tell you that you’re a looker no matter what color the sky?”
Sebastian bit his lip. “You are very good at saying whatever you like without shame.”
