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How did I know?
That wasn’t in our contract.
Gosh, it felt like I’d married the head of the mafia sometimes.
“I’ll think about it, Christopher, but thank you. That’s a great idea.” I smiled and leaned back against the sofa.
He returned the smile, then wished us both a goodnight and disappeared again.
I leaned forwards and poured two cups of tea.
Matthew took the one I handed him. “Are you not sure about it?”
“Not really,” I replied slowly, cradling my own cup. “It’s a lot of work, especially if it doesn’t work out. For now, I think I’ll just open a savings account and donate on a regular basis.”
“Good idea. I do like Christopher’s idea of prints being sold in the gift shop, though. Postcards are always popular and prints of sketches or paintings done by The Countess of Anglesey are likely to be a big selling point.”
I bit my lip. “I’ll think about it.”
“All right.” He sipped his tea. “Wait, if you saw Dafydd, does that mean you drove to Beaumaris today?”
“I did.”
“Wow. Did you get lost?”
I shook my head. “Although I do wish I knew that the pub has its own little parking area. Took me forever to find a space.”
Matthew grimaced. “Yes—if you’d told me you were going, I would have told you.”
“Ah, well.” I shrugged. “How are things going with the hotel?”
“Really well,” he replied, setting his teacup on the table. “We’re fully booked for the half-term break, and Sian seems to have everything under control as far as managing it goes.”
“That’s good. I liked her.”
“She’s good at management, that’s for sure. I’m happy to leave her to it.”
I side-eyed him. “You’re looking at other locations, aren’t you?”
“Maybe,” he replied, dragging the word out, slowly opening the laptop lid again.
“Matthew.”
“I might have seen a couple of options.”
I stared at him. “Aren’t you supposed to wait and see if that one will turn a profit?”
“I could, but then I might miss these.”
“You have a dreadful sense of business.”
“Says the woman who wants to give all her earnings to charity.”
I paused. “That’s the noble thing to do.”
“Fine. I’ll give my profits to charity. Can I have another hotel now?”
“Can you have another hotel? What are you doing, collecting them?”
“Perhaps.”
“Might I suggest stamps? They’re cheaper, smaller, and less likely to bankrupt you.”
He shrugged. “Never been much of a stamp guy. My grandfather has a huge collection on display in the public house, though.”
“What’s wrong with stamps?”
“Let me guess, you like those, too?”
“It could be worse. I could collect Van Goghs.”
“You want a Van Gogh?”
“I feel like we’re getting off track here.” I pressed my hand to my forehead. That was a very dangerous road to travel down, given his propensity for buying me things I liked.
Not that I was going to complain about it, but still.
“Yes, but no, that’s not the point,” I continued. “You cannot collect hotels like they’re limited-edition football cards.”
“Are they cards or stamps, Eva?”
“I don’t know, Matthew. It’s just a figure of speech.” I rolled my eyes. “What are you looking at?”
He glanced at the computer screen, then back at me. “All right. You have a good eye. Come and look at these, then tell me what you think.”
He turned, and I shifted along the sofa until I was sitting next to him. My thigh was pressed against his, and I was going to have to ignore how very firm and strong it was next to me.
How much I kind of wanted to rip the laptop off him and pop myself right between his thighs.
He switched to another tab and scrolled up, showing me the first option. It was a beautiful, Georgian country house that had ten bedrooms, according to the headline. Sadly, it was also on the run down side of things, and that was reflected in the price.
“It’s in pretty rough shape,” I said, leaning over to hit the arrow button so I could scroll through the photos.
“They all are,” Matthew replied. “But they have potential. Many of them are too large to be family homes, and they have a little too much land for second homes. Anyone who could afford to live in this house won’t live here full time.”
“That’s true, I suppose. It was the same at home. Oh, that room has so much potential. Look at the crown moulding on the ceiling!”
“I thought you’d like that. Try the next one.”
I switched to the other tab, taking control of the laptop now. Instead of reaching over, I pulled it onto my lap so I could see properly. Matthew chuckled and leaned over, stretching his arm out behind me. He rested it on the back of the sofa, but his hand hung over the cushion, and his fingertips tickled me when they brushed against my shoulder.
“The views from this one are lovely,” I said, looking at the third hotel. “It’s more of a bed and breakfast, though, isn’t it? There aren’t many bedrooms.”
