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Sometime later, when I finish the last report, I close the laptop and lean it against the chair, get up and stretch, then go into the kitchen. I can see Heidi through the window in the garden, so I cross to the doorway and lean against the post, my hands in my pockets.
She’s hanging up the washing on the rotary line. As I watch, she picks up a pair of my boxers, shakes them to get rid of the creases, and pegs them up. When she’s done, she puts her hands on her hips and studies them, then gives a soft laugh before she turns to collect another item from the basket. Only then does she see me and straighten.
I raise my eyebrows, and to my delight she turns completely scarlet.
“No need to ask what’s going through your mind,” I say, amused.
“Can you blame me?” She’s obviously determined to pretend she isn’t blushing. “I’ve heard about Sir Richard.” She lifts her eyebrows. “Is it true?”
“Not at all. Two, three inches max.” She giggles, and I give a wry smile. “Who told you that?” I’m pretty sure she’s not in touch with my ex.
“Evie bumped into Claire. Apparently she’d had a few and was happy to share some details about your family jewels.” She laughs and turns to hang a shirt on the line.
I don’t say anything. When she’s done, she picks up the empty laundry basket and comes to stand in front of me.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she says. “I wouldn’t be human if I wasn’t intrigued.”
“Please don’t talk about my family jewels. It gives me goosebumps.”
She chuckles. “I only said we wouldn’t have sex,” she points out. “I didn’t say we couldn’t talk about it.” She winks at me and squeezes by to go into the laundry room.
I sigh and follow her in. I’m beginning to realize I’m subjecting myself to a form of torture by staying here. It’s easy to tell her we’re not going to get involved. It’s a lot harder to carry it through when she’s teasing me, and looking up at me with those gorgeous blue eyes.
She’s Huxley’s kid sister. She’s Huxley’s kid sister.
Say it like a mantra, dude, and maybe it’ll eventually sink in.
Chapter Five
Heidi
Shortly after, we head out of the cottage. “Let’s go up to the church,” I suggest. “It’s such a beautiful little building, and it goes right back to the Normans.”
“I know it sounds weird,” he says, “but I’m finding it hard to get my head around all the history. The Normans—that makes it nearly a thousand years old. That’s incredible!”
“Some of the prehistoric stuff is going to blow your mind, then. Did you come down here along the A303 or via the M4/M5?”
“The M4/M5.”
“Aw, so you missed Stonehenge. You’ll have to take that road when you go back to London.”
It’s a beautiful morning, a true English summer’s day, warm and bright. We’re both in shorts, and he’s wearing an All Blacks rugby shirt. I’d forgotten how tight the new ones are. Man, he has an impressive physique. I’m tempted to take him swimming just so I can see him with his clothes off.
I’m already regretting my insistence that we’re not going to have sex. But I know the fact that I’m his best mate’s little sis is on his mind, and I don’t think he would have stayed if I hadn’t said that. Besides which, it makes sense for us not to get involved. After all the hassle I’ve had with Jason, the last thing I need is to fall for the Striking Viking when he lives on the other side of the world. Some people can have sex without being emotionally attached, but I’m not one of them. I’ve never had a one-night stand, and I’ve always dated guys for at least a few weeks and usually months before I’ve slept with them.
We arrive at the fence of iron railings that surrounds the church, and I open the gate and go in. “There’s been a church here since Saxon times, and they think it burned down in a Viking raid.”
“Wow.”
“The west end has a Norman entrance—you can see that because it’s round rather than arched. The rest of it is fourteenth century, with some later additions.”
“Can we go in?”
“Of course. Come on.”
I take him inside, and spend some time showing him the features: the fifteenth-century octagonal font, the painted and gilded pulpit, and the tombs of local landowners with their carved stone effigies.
“This knight has one leg crossed over the other,” I say. “That means he fought in the Holy Land.”
