“Maybe we don’t need to be like them.”
“Ew. No.”
“Come on then, wife. Let’s go home.”
“Don’t call me that,” she snaps, and I walk out into the blazing sunshine, laughing like it’s the best day of my life.
The five of us pile into the waiting Range Rover, and an hour later, we’re airborne on the Burlington family plane.
And I fly back to Valentine Nook a married man.
CHAPTER 8
Ruby
Iwake up alone, in a strange bed, andmarried.
Butman, did I sleep well.
This mattress must be made from Silver Linings because it’s nothing like the tiny grooms’ bunks I’ve become accustomed to over the years.
And I canstretch.Stretch from corner to corner without even touching them, and I do it now just to prove a point. Shifting down the bed, I adopt the starfish shape, my fingers and toes reach as far as they go, and I still don’t make it.
It’s amazing, and I can’t remember having a better night’s sleep.
Maybe England will agree with me in more ways than one.
We arrived here late in the afternoon, and Miles slept for most of the flight, while I was too excited to sleep. I haven’t flown much, and I’veneverflown private. Seeing Aspen disappear beneath the clouds was like watching a chapter of my life end. I spent the time playing games with Story and Max, answering question after question until Story took him off for a nap.
By the time we landed, I could barely keep my eyes open, so it was expected that I’d fall asleep on the car journey from theairport to here. I could have done without drooling on Miles’s shoulder, however, and the knowing smirk he gave me when I realized.
After giving me the house rules, “I don’t cook, the coffee’s on the counter, breakfast comes down from Burlington, so write your request on the pad by the fridge,” and promising a tour once I’d slept, Miles showed me to my bedroom and left me to sleep. I assured him I only needed an hour or two, but according to my phone screen, that was fourteen hours ago.
Which means today is tomorrow.
Like I said, Silver Linings mattress.
I’d still be asleep if it hadn’t been for the very loud, very persistent bell ringing coming from somewhere outside. I expected it to be in the backyard for how loud it was, but when I opened the drapes, there was nothing to see except blue skies and fields upon fields of green grass dotted with sheep and cows.
So I crawled back into bed, where I’ve been lying since, flitting between dreams of promises interspersed with the memory of Miles’s kiss. Soft yet firm, strong yet gentle. The feel of his silky stubble under my palms as he held me against the warmth of his chest, his lips against mine is something I will remember long after I’m back in the United States.
Up to two weeks ago, Miles was nothing more to me than a rich, smug, indifferent team owner. Like all team owners.
He was everything I hated about the business of polo. Everything I resented, knowing that for me to succeed, I have to kiss ass. He’s rich, sure. But I was wrong about the indifference. He notices everything, pays attention toeverything. Watching him with the horses before they loaded was like watching a masterclass in meticulousness.
And somewhere along the way, he decided I was sufficiently skilled to risk his reputation for. Now my head’s in a spin, and Idon’t know what to think except that I no longer hate him. And Miles Burlington is nothing like I thought he was.
The bells chime again, and I decide to get up, explore what I missed last night, and go in search of coffee. I’m assuming Miles crashed not long after me, and I have vague recollections of the floorboards creaking outside my room, followed by the sound of a door closing. For all I know, he’s still asleep.
Wandering through to the bathroom, I open the blinds to a different view than the bedroom offers. It looks down on the rose bushes lining the front yard, more fields, and a narrow winding lane leading to a huge fountain I remember passing before we pulled up. Cute is probably the adjective. Cute andveryEnglish.
I pee, wash my hands, splash water on my face, and take stock of my surroundings—the walk-in shower, the huge claw tub under the window, and the basket full of every amenity I could need. Shampoo, conditioner, and enough expensive skincare to keep Sephora in business. What’s more, I can’t picture him buying any of it.
I wonder if Miles’s women use this room. Does he fuck them in my new bed on my Silver Linings mattress? Do they sleep in here? Or are these things in here for all overnight guests? The more questions I ask myself, the heavier my chest feels. I believed him when he agreed to no women while we were married, but seeing all this . . . I’m not so sure. Professional polo players are athletes with high testosterone. Sex is part of the natural order.
And if I’m not giving it to him, he’s going to find it somewhere else.
It’s while I’m brushing my teeth that the sunlight catches on my left hand and the rings there. With each slow twist of my hand, my ruby shoots out a kaleidoscope of colors, rebounding off the mirror and hitting the white wall. It’s pretty. It’sdistracting. A reminder of what exactly I got myself into.
