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He leaned across the table towards her. ‘You don’t need to. It only takes a touch.’ He ran one finger down the back of her hand and Jess gulped, pulling her arm away.
‘So what about my foibles, then?’ Time to change the subject.
‘Your what?’ His gaze slid across her body, making her shiver.
‘Foibles. Pay attention.’
‘I am paying attention.’ He pushed the teacups and the plate that stood between them on the table out of the way. ‘Okay, so your eyes look as if they have flecks of gold in them. That’s not contacts, is it?’
‘Of course not.’ She nudged her leg against his under t
he table. ‘Foibles, I said.’
‘I heard. Well, you’re resourceful, talented, generally a force to be reckoned with. Only you don’t much like being out of your comfort zone.’
Yes, okay, he might have a point. There were good reasons for her to feel that way. ‘Maybe.’
He leaned forward, and Jess couldn’t help but move towards him. She felt his lips brush her ear. ‘It’s a rather nice comfort zone, though.’
‘Stop it.’ She was feeling better now. As if the weekend wasn’t so much of a trial to be got through. Jess almost wished that it was more than two days.
He drew back. From the look in his eyes there was no question that the dialogue was still continuing somewhere in the back of his mind.
‘Do you want to drive?’
‘What for?’
‘Sometimes driving can help if you’re feeling a bit queasy.’
She stared at him. He knew just as well as she did that this was an excuse. That somehow, indefinably, she would feel a bit more in charge of her own destiny if she was in the driving seat. He was good. Good at putting her at her ease. Very, very good at making her want him.
‘Okay. If you don’t mind.’
He shrugged. ‘Why would I mind?’
His car was a pleasure to drive. When she put her foot down on the motorway, it responded with a purr, rather than the laboured growl that her own car would have emitted. Greg pushed the passenger seat back so he could stretch his legs, and confined himself to giving directions. An hour later they turned into a long, gated drive and drew up outside the house.
‘It’s big.’ Jess scanned the complex roof structure, which accommodated an elaborate arrangement of mock crenellations beneath it. There was even a circular tower, tacked onto one side of the building, with a set of battlements and a flagpole at its top.
He grinned. ‘Yeah. Not the prettiest of places.’
‘It’s not meant to be. Victorian, right?’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘Then the architecture’s not about welcoming visitors, eh?’
He looked again. Leaned back to study the red-brick patterns over the windows and the heavy portico, as if this was the first time he’d seen the place. ‘Never really thought about it. So what is it all about, then?’
‘It’s a statement. This house is all about the people who live here being different from the people who live down in the village. They wanted to impress with their power, not their good taste.’
He nodded. ‘You think so?’
Yes, she knew so. The girl from a two-up, two-down felt confronted and challenged by this place and Jess imagined that was exactly how she was meant to feel. ‘It’s one way of looking at it.’
He nodded, obviously turning the idea over in his head. ‘Well, come inside. It’s a bit more homely there.’
Not so you’d notice. The large hallway was big enough to contain her whole flat, with height to spare, and the sweeping stone staircase continued the theme of a fortified castle. Leading up to a wide half-landing that was illuminated by a large, stained-glass window, the whole thing reminded her of a film set for a medieval saga.
