Page 36 of The Work Husband

I checked my face in the mirror, pulled a brush through my hair, then picked up my bag. Jamie patted his pockets for his room key and phone, and we headed out into the corridor.

For a moment, I allowed myself to think how gorgeous it would be to have come here with Sam – to be actual guests instead of on a business freebie, to be beginning a romantic weekend instead of one that, while it would be fun, was also work.

But Sam and I could never afford to stay in a place like this. It was Jamie I was here with, and I was going to make the most of it. Make the most of it while also making sure to rein in any ideas he had about taking our plan in any way seriously. Because that wasn’t what I wanted – not at all. That would be going way, way too far.

Or had it gone too far already?

‘We’re freeeee!’ Jamie raced across the lawn, jumped down the thing we’d been told was called a ha-ha and spun around, arms windmilling, until he got so dizzy he fell down on his back on the grass.

Laughing, I walked more sedately down the flagstone steps and joined him by the entrance to the rose garden.

‘God, what a display,’ I scolded. ‘What if Patrizia saw you? What if she told Jasper?’

‘Then they’d think I was making the most of the wonderful facilities,’ he replied calmly. ‘Making myself at home. Just like she said we should.’

I could kind of see his point. The two hours after lunch had been interesting but slow. We’d been shown the chapel where wedding ceremonies were held, the ruined ice house next to the stables and the eighteenth-century maze. We’d met the head chef, the chief sommelier and the grounds manager. We’d seen inside the bridal suite, the private dining room and the cellar.

We’d been on our best behaviour throughout, making admiring noises and taking notes, and I was just as happy as Jamie was that we were now at liberty to do our own thing.

Not that I was going to show it by jumping off five-foot retaining walls.

‘So what shall we do now?’ I asked.

He put his head on one side. ‘Game of croquet? Billiards match? Couple of sets of tennis?’

‘Are you fucking kidding me? I’m not going to pander to your male ego by having you thrash me at croquet, billiards or tennis. Or any other sport that requires hand-eye coordination, for that matter.’

‘Fine,’ he said grumpily. ‘What do you want to do?’

‘I reckon we should check out the spa. We’ve got a couple of hours before we need to get ready for dinner.’

He brightened. ‘Check out the bar, you say?’

I punched his bicep. ‘You heard me. Come on – we can have a drink later.’

‘Several drinks.’ He scrambled to his feet, and we made our way back inside.

Back in my room, I pulled off my clothes, showered and got into my swimsuit, slipping on one of the hotel’s white waffle robes and sliding my feet into towelling slippers. Jamie emerged from his room at the same time as I did, and we made our way down to the basement, following the signs that said Nirvana Spa and the strengthening smell of chlorine and essential oils.

At the reception desk, a woman in a white tunic greeted us.

‘Would you like a treatment this afternoon?’ she asked.

‘That would be amazing, thank you,’ Jamie replied.

‘Let me see what availability we have.’ She tapped her keyboard. ‘We are rather busy. I can do a manicure or pedicure, a detox body wrap or a luxury diamond facial.’

She smiled encouragingly, but I could see that even metrosexual Jamie was going to draw the line at a pedicure.

‘Or’ – she smiled enticingly – ‘the couples massage suite is free.’

‘Great,’ Jamie said instantly. ‘We’ll have that, please.’

‘But—’ I began, directing a glare towards Jamie, which he ignored.

It was too late to object – the woman had entered our booking on their system and slid out from behind the reception counter. ‘Certainly. I’ll show you where to leave your things, and your therapists will be with you in just a few minutes.’

I thought I was quick getting ready, but Jamie was quicker. When I entered the treatment room, which was dimly lit and scented with candles and reed diffusers, whale music playing on a speaker concealed somewhere, he was already lying on one of the massage beds, his lower body covered by a towel, but his toned, naked back visible.