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Yes.
Gah!
Shortly after that, we rounded the drive and parked at the foot of the steps.
Stevenson met us at the door.
“Welcome home, ladies,” he greeted.
Home.
Portia and I exchanged glances.
She looked excited.
I was mildly freaked that he didn’t have to say it.
It felt like home already.
“Daniel is in the Bordeaux Room. Ian is in Brandy,” he went on to tell us in a genteel way where we were ordered to go next.
We loaded him up with our bags, scarves, gloves and coats, and we headed down the southeastern hall.
It was sweet when Portia stopped outside the Bordeaux Room to give me a hug.
She’d enjoyed our day too.
She then ducked in, and I walked to the end of the hall.
The door was open, so I went in.
“Hey.”
Ian was sitting on a sofa, surrounded by papers and a laptop.
He looked up, his face grew soft, then he ordered, “Here. Kiss.”
Lord of the manor, indeed.
I moved to him, bent to give him a kiss, and with his hand sliding in my hair, he changed my intention of a quick peck to a lot of tongue.
When we were done, while I recovered from the kiss, he shuffled his papers around so I could sit next to him.
“Do you want me to order you something?” he asked. “Some tea?”
“No. I’m good, honey.”
“So what did you two get up to today?” he asked.
I wanted to know more about what he did, but I told him, “The village. Lunch at the tearoom.” I grinned. “Provisions.”
He grinned back.
“And we went to the ruins.”
“Ah. Lovely,” he murmured.
“It was. Now, your turn.”
