by Heidi Rice
‘Wow,’ he replied, with the look of something close to awe in his face. ‘Are you serious? Did you really grow up wandering around in a museum?’
‘Oh, yes,’ she answered with a tiny shrug. ‘And don’t say it as though that was a bad thing. I loved it here. My folks eventually worked out that I was spending far too much time learning about ancient Persian history so they sent me to boarding school at the age of eleven. Too late, of course. By then the damage was done. I was a history geek and proud and nothing my parents told me about the advantages of a career in hedge funds was going to change my mind.’
His reply was a low snort of disbelief.
‘Quite. No, I have wonderful memories of sitting up here all alone, dreaming about the wonderful research I was going to do and all of the ancient manuscripts that were still out there for me to explore.’ Her voice faded slowly away as the contrast between her life and the life she had imagined for herself flashed into sharp focus. ‘My life was going to be so magical.’
Miles must have picked up on her change of mood because he moved closer so that their coats were touching.
She instantly switched her smile back on. Not his problem.
‘Now I have started some freelance PA work for my friend Elise and work on the information desk here on Saturdays but we are always mad busy. This is a rare treat.’
‘That is because you love this place so much and you miss it,’ he replied in a gentle voice, and chuckled at her gasp of surprise. ‘Yes. It is fairly obvious. Especially …’
‘Especially?’ Andy asked in a shaky breath. She was not used to opening up to a millionaire that she had just met in this way, and it startled her, and yet was strangely reassuring. Weird.
‘I was going to say, especially considering that there must be so little work for history graduates.’ He blew out hard and blinked. ‘Research on ancient documents! That’s hard for me to get my head around. It must be hard to do office work when you have such expert knowledge of the subject.’
Hard? How did she even begin to explain to a stranger the misery of having to turn down her place at a prestigious university, which she had worked so hard for, because there simply was not the money to pay for her parents’ new business disasters at the same time as sending her to university? They wanted her to study for a degree that would guarantee her a secure future as a professional, not some ridiculous foolishness about art history. That was not going to get her anywhere. After all, she was not gifted or talented.
She had begged her grandparents to support her, and applied for grant after grant, but it had all been for nothing and in the end she had had to face the truth.
If she wanted to make the world of illuminated manuscripts her life, then she would have to do it with money that she earned.
Her whole world had shifted under her feet and was still shifting now.
Even after ten years of living in rented accommodation, and now as a house sitter, there were some days where she had to remind herself that she could still do it. She read and studied and practised her techniques, constantly working to become the best she could be. Evening classes. Museum workshops. Anything that would improve her knowledge and skills.
Andy blinked hard. The blur of constant activity that she used to fill each day created a very effective distraction, but even talking about those sad times brought memories percolating up into her consciousness. Memories she had to put back in their place where they belonged.
Then she looked up at the new moon rising in the clear sky above the tall stone buildings across the street and felt the sting of tears in the corners of her eyes as the memory of the lost opportunities flooded back into her mind. She was so overwhelmed that when Miles shifted next to her on the railing, she suddenly came crashing down to earth and the harsh reality that her life was so very different from the one she had imagined for herself as a girl.
‘Oh, I am so sorry,’ she said through a tight, sore throat. ‘Here I am, rambling on about illuminated manuscripts and my boring life history. How embarrassing! I don’t usually go on like this but this has been a tough week. But thank you for listening.’
Miles inclined his head towards her. ‘I got the feeling that you needed to talk. Apparently I was right. And you were not boring, not in the least.’
Andy instantly whipped her head around to check if he was making fun of her, as Nigel had, as so many of the men she had met had. But instead of supressed ridicule, he was doing the laser stare through the centre of her forehead again. No laughter. Just something close to sincere curiosity.
And it totally disarmed her.
‘Thank you,’ she replied, then gave a small cough to cover her embarrassment. ‘How about you?’ Andy asked with a lift in her voice, eyebrows high. ‘Where did you live growing up?’
‘Ah. Nothing like this,’ he replied with a chortle. ‘I was born in Cornwall. My dad was a sports teacher so we spent most of our free time on the beach or helping him to run training sessions for local schools and colleges. But in the winter we went to my grandparents’ beach house on Tenerife. Sunshine and surfing.’
Miles shrugged deeper into his down coat. ‘I soon found out that Cornwall was amazing in the summer but in January? Technical surfing was a lot easier in the Canary Islands.’
‘Oh, I so agree,’ Andy said with a knowing nod. ‘Technical surfing. Absolutely.’
‘Even so,’ Miles said as he moved closer so that he could stand next to her with his arms stretched out on the metal railing as they both gazed onto the London street, ‘I envy you growing up here. There is something special about the city at this time of year.’
The tall London plane trees had been strung with white party lights and Christmas decorations so the front entrance of the hotel opposite looked like a fairy-tale picture of Christmas from a children’s book.
Huge white plastic snowflakes, bright red-and-gold baubles and lots of silver-and-gold-dusted ivy dotted with crimson holly berries were suspended from wires to form perfect garlands and wreaths.
The shops along this busy high street had decorated their windows with wonderful displays of toys and gifts and the finest luxury goods to be had in the city in magical winter wonderlands of huge stores and designer shops and specialist food outlets.
And as Andy and Miles looked into the early evening dusk the first Christmas street lights twinkled bright and colourful and cheerful. Pedestrians hurried along, bundled up against the cold, children and adults smiling and enjoying the bustle and energy of the city street.
The whole scene was so familiar to her and yet still so magical that Andy felt her shoulders relax for the first time in many days.
This was why she’d never found peace when she had lived in boarding school or with her grandparents. They had never come close to this special place in her life.
She leant in contented silence and grasped the balustrade with both hands, quietly aware of how very close she was standing next to this man she had only just met. Close enough that she could hear his breathing and the sound his boots made as he shifted his weight from one foot to the next. The sharp tang of his aftershave combined with the dust and polish from a large building to create a heady scent.
Should she tell him that he was the first man that she had ever brought to the roof dome? Perhaps not. He had already teased her about being an online dating virgin.
But as she fixed her gaze on the thick glass panel, she knew that it was more than that.
Miles had come here to be with her—because he wanted to.
He even appeared happy to enjoy the view and remain in silence and allow her to do all the talking, since she was relaxed enough in his presence to enjoy the type of conversation that could only happen between strangers, unfettered by past history.
Strangers.
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and she looked away from Miles out over the city.
Stupid! Why had she just told so much of her life to this stranger?
Miles wasn’t her fri
end. Far from it.
She knew his laugh, his smile, the way he stirred his coffee, but she had no clue who he was or why he wanted to spend his afternoon in a museum with her.
This was Miles Gibson of Cory Sports. Multimillionaire sportsman. Driven, intense and determined to succeed in the business he had built up with his brother.
Instinctively she felt the man in the black down coat looking at her, watching her, one elbow on the metal railing.
She turned slightly towards him and noticed for the first time, in the fading natural light and the twinkling stars in the street, that his eyes were not brown but a shade of copper the colour of autumn leaves. And at that moment those eyes were staring very intently at her.
On another day and another time she might even have said that he was more gorgeous than merely handsome. Tall, broad and so athletic it was a joke.
Dazzle factor and allure of this quality did not come cheap.
Some lucky girl was going to have a wonderful online date.
He took a step closer in the fading light and in the harsh shadows his cheekbones were sharp angles and his chin strong and resigned.
The masculine strength and power positively beamed out from every pore and grabbed her. It was in the way that he held his body, the way his head turned to face her and the way he looked at her as though she was the most fascinating woman he had ever met, and, oh, yes, the laser focus of those intelligent copper brown eyes had a lot to do with it as well.
He was so close that she could touch him if she wanted to. She could practically feel the softness of his breath on her skin as he gazed intently into her eyes. The background noise in the museum seemed to fade away until all of her senses were totally focused on this man who had outspokenly captivated her.
She couldn’t move.
She did not want to move.
‘What are you doing here, Miles Gibson? What do you want from me?’
CHAPTER SIX
HER words blurted out in a much stronger voice than she had intended, and she instantly warmed them with a small shoulder shrug. ‘Your brother probably has a stack of work waiting for you back in the office. Shouldn’t you be getting back?’
Miles straightened his back and lifted his chin before releasing the railing and turning to face her.
‘What am I doing here? Well, I thought that was fairly obvious. Since you don’t want to have dinner with me, I had to find some other way of satisfying that terrible curiosity I am cursed with. And, yes, he certainly does have a mountain of admin waiting for me, and, yes, I probably should, because my knee …’ Then he pushed his lips out, licked the bottom one with his tongue and said in a clear calm voice as though he were reading from a script. ‘Car accident. Still having physio. Hurts when I stand. And we have been doing a lot of that this afternoon.’
‘Oh, no,’ she gasped and clutched onto the sleeve of his jacket as she looked down to his trousers. ‘You should have said something. I am so sorry.’
‘Not a problem,’ he replied in a voice of finely sharpened steel that cut the air. ‘I’m fine.’
She snatched up her head and stared into his eyes, shocked by the change of tone in his voice.
Whatever casual friendly atmosphere they had built up—was gone. Vanished into smoke. And it was as if a blast of ice-cold air had just blown into the dome, making her shiver.
She closed her eyes for a second, and when she opened them, she almost jumped back because Miles was standing so close to her that the front of his soft jacket was almost touching her sleeve.
‘It was worth it to share another person’s passion first-hand. And that is what you have, Andy. You have passion.’ He sniffed. ‘Takes one fanatic to recognise another one. So thank you.’ He took another step closer, so that when she looked into his eyes she had to lift her chin to do it. ‘For being my guide into another world I knew absolutely nothing about.’
And with one tiny nod he stepped back, his hands sliding up and down the sleeves of her coat. ‘Come on, girl, it’s getting cold up here. You’re trembling. I’m taking you for a hot coffee. Tea. Whatever. And on the way I want to hear you practise your sales pitch. Shall we?’
He stuck out his hand and she looked at it for a fraction of a second. Taking his hand would mean saying yes to spending more time with him, the coffee, everything. But before she had a chance to think, he grabbed it firmly and laughed out loud. ‘One more thing. I think it’s about time you told me your real name. What does the Andy stand for?’
She hesitated for a moment before raising her gaze to the ceiling and blurting out, ‘You had better not laugh—it’s Andromeda. Andromeda Davies.’
He lifted his head and nodded. ‘Andromeda. It totally suits you.’
He raised one fingertip and traced it along her cheekbone.
‘And in case you were wondering—I know about dreams. So does Jason. Do you think we were handed Cory Sports on a silver platter? No. We had to wash dishes and work weekends and school holidays to earn the money to buy the kit and teach and learn and teach and learn some more before we were even close to being ready to go professional. But you know the true meaning of the word amateur, don’t you?’
He dropped his hand so that it rested lightly on her hip and she could feel the warmth and the weight of his fingers through several layers of fabric.
She shook her head slowly from side to side, speech impossible.
‘It comes from the Latin word amator—the lover. Now a girl who loves what she does so much that she can keep the fire of her passion for history burning for ten years … that is a girl who I would like to know more about. See more.’
Then he kissed her on the tip of her nose. And the touch of his lips was as gentle as a butterfly landing and she closed her eyes to revel in that tiny moment when her skin was in contact with his.
‘What do you say, Andromeda Davies? Are you willing to be seen in public eating Spanish food with me? Oh—and this time? This time it will be a real date. You and me. First-name terms. I would like to hear a lot more about those dreams of yours. Tempted?’
Tempted?
Andy stared into his face for a second in total silence, aware that she was probably ogling and looking as bewildered as she felt.
Of course she was tempted.
Had he no clue what he was asking?
Why could he possibly want to have dinner with her? To hear about her dreams? Listen to her plans and fantasy ambitions?
She had no fabulous stories of international travel and achievement to amuse a man like Miles. Did he feel sorry for her and the life she led? Or simply need someone to talk to because he was lonely? She didn’t need that either.
Andy inhaled deeply, his gaze on her face as he waited for her answer.
But when he moved even closer, she took two steps back, away from the temptation—the danger.
Her heart was thumping so loudly he could probably hear it from where he was standing. He smelt wonderful, his touch sent her brain spinning and he was so handsome that her heart melted just looking at him.
She had felt that wicked pull of attraction in the coffee shop the other evening and run away. And she would have to do the same now, because the high-tension wire that was pulling her closer and closer towards Miles Gibson would only lead one way—to her heartbreak and pain.
She had learnt her lesson with Nigel and dared not place her trust in a man like this again. She just couldn’t risk being used then cast aside.
She wasn’t ready to date anyone. Nowhere near.
‘A dinner date? Thank you, but I don’t think that would be a very good idea, Miles. But perhaps Jason could find you another online date in my place?’
‘Not a good idea?’ Miles frowned. ‘I don’t know about that. The girl who runs it comes from our part of Tenerife and her whole family are terrific cooks. Mayte will look after us well. And no squishy tomatoes in sight.’
‘Then that is a very good reason why I am the last person you should ask out as your date. A fr
iend of your family might get the wrong idea. And I am really not looking for another boyfriend at the moment.’
Miles paused for a moment, pressed his lips together, winced and then slapped the heel of his hand to his forehead as he took several steps back towards the entrance. ‘You already have a boyfriend. Of course you do. It was your boss who needed the online dating agency.’
He gave her a short bow. ‘Apologies. I jumped to conclusions. Another one of those flaws I was talking about. I only hope your boyfriend doesn’t turn up at the office and thump me for asking his girl out. I’m not sure my brother could take any more surprises today.’
There was just enough of a change in his voice to make her look up. Unless he was a very good actor and she was completely misreading the signals, she saw a glimmer of genuine regret and disappointment cross that handsome face before he covered it up.
Interesting.
Decision time. Pretend she was seeing someone and lie through her teeth … or not.
‘Jason is safe. What I meant was that I recently broke up with someone and I don’t feel comfortable going on any kind of date just yet. But thanks again for the invitation.’
It was astonishing to see how fast Miles could switch on that killer smile.
‘Ha. So you are single. That makes two of us.’ He looked at her quizzically, eyebrows high. ‘But you do know what that means, don’t you?’
He stepped closer, ran his hands up both sleeves of her jacket and smiled as his gaze locked onto her eyes.
‘I simply won’t take no for an answer, Andromeda. Not going to happen.’ And he winked at her. Just as he had done in the coffee shop the other evening. So smug and confident in his dazzling power. And with just the same power to make her roll her eyes and sigh out loud as she slithered out of his grasp.
‘Which part of not wanting another boyfriend right now do you not understand, Miles? I appreciate the offer but I really am not ready for a new relationship—with anyone. So, thank you, but no.’
Then she patted the front of his coat briskly with her fingertips and gestured with her head towards the stairs, before glancing at her watch. ‘And look at the time. I have been keeping you chatting for far too long. Thank you for keeping me company and for the kind advice about the pitch, but I think I had better put those tips to good use while they are still fresh in my mind.’