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I think I can see a glimmer of hope in her eyes, and it occurs to me then that she might be glad of my presence here because it’ll be some protection for her if her ex comes knocking again. Not that she can’t stand up for herself, because she obviously can, but it might give her some peace of mind. And I think Huxley would like that.
“All right,” I say, “I’ll stay, and you can show me around.”
“Great!” She beams. “So anywhere you fancy going?”
“Dartmoor, I guess. I don’t know what else is here.”
“What are you interested in seeing? Nature? Cities? History?”
“History, definitely, as we don’t have much in New Zealand.” I check my watch. “I should do a bit of work before we go out, if that’s okay. I need to cancel those meetings, and catch up on emails.”
“Of course. What about if, when you’re done, we take a walk through the village, and maybe have lunch at The Monolith? It’s a pub.”
“The one with a standing stone? I thought maybe it was fake.”
“No, it’s real, and it dates to about 2,500 BC. Legend has it that if you touch it, you either die, go mad, or fall in love.”
“Not sure which I’d prefer.”
She grins. “The pub does great food, including cream teas, which you absolutely have to have in Devon. Then we could take a drive across the moors. And I’ll find something interesting to do this evening.”
“Okay, sounds great. First though, I’ll help you wash up, and then you can show me your observatory.”
She laughs, goes over to the sink, and starts running the hot water. “I was joking. It’s not a real observatory.”
“I gathered.”
“It’s pretty cool, though. Do you have a telescope?”
“I do.” As I pick up the tea towel and start drying the clean crockery she puts on the draining board, I think about my Celestron Equatorial Schmidt-Cassegrain, which I love almost beyond all things. “I’ve been into astronomy since I was a boy. My mum’s dad works at the Institute of Theoretical Astrophysics in Norway, and whenever he’s visited, we go stargazing.”
She slots a plate into the stand. “He must be really proud of you.”
“Yeah, I think so.” I watch bubbles rising from the sink, rainbow-colored in the sunlight. One lands on her arm and pops. She has elegant hands, with long, tapering fingers and neat nails painted a sparkly pink. I can’t help but think of those fingers on my thigh, sliding up over my skin to take me in hand…
She lifts her gaze to mine, and I realize she’s waiting for me to say something.
“Ah, sorry?” I say. “I zoned out for a moment.”
Her lips twitch as if she can guess what I was thinking, but she just says, “I asked if you can speak Norwegian.”
“Yeah, not quite fluent, but enough to make myself understood there.”
“You’ve been there?”
“Yes, a few times. It’s where I got the tattoos.” I hold out my arms.
She drops her gaze to them. “That makes sense. They’re magnificent.”
“Thank you.”
“I love the wolf.” She reaches out a wet finger and brushes it against the wolf’s head. A frisson runs all the way up my arm and then back down my spine. As if she felt it, too, she glances at me, then lowers her gaze and slides her hand back into the water to finish off the last mug.
I take it from her and dry it, hoping I’m not doing the wrong thing by saying I’ll stay with her. She was right—we are grownups, and we should be able to control ourselves. It’s not easy though, when all I can think about is kissing her.
The dishes done, she hangs up the tea towel and says, “Come this way,” and leads me through the kitchen and out the back door into the garden.
It’s tiny, with a paved patio bearing a round plastic table and two chairs, and a rectangle of grass that’s the size of the rug in my living room. At the bottom, though, is a greenhouse, and she crosses the lawn in her bare feet, opens the door, and lets me precede her inside.
