“Naturally. We wouldn’t want people thinking it’s vacant. Between the memorabilia hounds and common thieves, not to mention vandals...”
She and Linus shared a look. Squatter though he may be, Teddy raised a good point. The house did benefit from being occupied.
She wasn’t in the mood to get into a protracted argument, either. “Looks like the three of us will be spending the weekend together, then,” she said. “Maybe you can help me locate some of the items on the inventory sheet.”
“Splendid. Anything I can do to help.” Teddy’s smile looked as forced as Stella’s felt. “In fact, why don’t I take Etonia Toffee Pudding into the study while the two of you bring your bags upstairs. Come here, my lovely.” Before Stella could object, he had the white cat tucked in the crook of his elbow. To Toffee’s credit, she didn’t object. She looked as indifferent as ever. “I’ll just bring her into the library to sit on the sofa with me,” he said.
“Well, that certainly showed him who’s boss, didn’t it?” Stella let out a sigh after Teddy and Toffee disappeared around the corner. “I might as well have asked for permission to stay.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Linus said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “What were you supposed to do, toss him out? He wouldn’t have gone quietly.”
“I know, and I wasn’t in the mood for a scene.” That didn’t change the fact she felt as though she’d messed up.
“Look, you let him know that you’re on to him. Chances are, he’ll be less inclined to make himself at home in the future. Especially if you drop a few a hints about returning.”
While she’d been talking with Teddy, Linus had brought in their luggage, along with Toffee’s travel bag. “Are you sure she’s staying only for the weekend?” he asked as they headed upstairs.
“I wasn’t sure what was here, and I wanted her to be comfortable.”
“You know she’s going to just sleep on the furniture.”
“Well, now she has choices.” Sue her for wanting her cat to have choices. Agnes’s cat. Toffee.
“You know what irks me the most about the Teddy situation,” she said when they reached the second-floor landing. “He’s not wrong. It is safer to have someone here once in a while. Not that I buy for a second that’s the reason he’s hanging out here.” More likely he figured Toffee wouldn’t be visiting the place.
She tried to put herself in Teddy’s shoes. Annoying as the man was, she felt a little sympathy. Knowing you were second in someone’s eyes hurt. Losing out to a cat had to be infuriating.
“Does that mean you’re going to let him spend weekends here?” Linus asked.
“Depends. Toffee and I will be traveling this way for a good chunk of the fall. He might decide our company isn’t worth the effort. Where do you want to sleep?”
She meant which bedroom, as it was clear Teddy had moved into the master suite. Linus, however, arched his brow, causing her to look away.
“I’ll take door number two,” he replied with a chuckle.
Leaving her with door number one. The blue room. Everything in the room was a shade of the color, from the sapphire brocade bedspread to the blue toile drapes. Tossing her bag on the bed, she opened what she thought was a closet, only to discover the door connected to Linus’s room.
“Sorry.”
He was in the middle of peeling off his sweater. The sport shirt underneath had ridden up halfway, exposing his torso. She knew he was well built, but this was the first time she’d seen his bare skin. Her eyes followed the dusting of blond hair running from below his navel to where it disappeared beneath his belt.
“I thought this was a closet. I’ll...um...give you your privacy.”
He freed his head, his hair mussed with static electricity. Seeing her, he smiled. “No worries. I was getting warm, is all. Thought I’d change into a T-shirt. You can leave the door open. That is, unless you want privacy yourself to...”
“No. That is, I’m going to stay dressed. In these clothes.”
“Suit yourself. These old houses can get very dusty.” With that, he removed his shirt as well.
Stella always thought it a cliché when people said their mouths ran dry, but the sight of a shirtless Linus Collier had her swallowing several times to moisten her throat.
Focus on work, Stella.
“What?” He tipped his head. “Did you say something?”
Damn. “I said I’m going to get to work. Unpacking can wait until later.” Much later.
CHAPTER SEVEN
AFTER CHECKING ON TOFFEE, who, to her surprise, was happily stretched out on the back of the sofa behind Teddy, Stella hid herself in the attic. Steamer trunks and boxes made for the perfect distraction, or so she hoped. Stella had a suspicion she’d be haunted by that strip of skin for quite a while.
Why, though? She was never the kind of woman who craved sex. Liked it, sure, but she never ached for physical connection. Now, here she was having fantasies and getting flushed over the sight of a man’s treasure trail.
Not any man’s. Linus’s. Her insides went end over end.
Wasn’t this just like her? It really was as though she had a subconscious need for self-sabotage. Why else would she develop a thing for the one man in England who wasn’t interested in dating. To top it off, she shouldn’t be developing a thing, period.
“Save me, Agnes,” she said as she flipped the latch of a footlocker. “Distract me with your memorabilia.”
Agnes obliged. Sort of. The footlocker turned out to be a stash of journals and photographs. Not the Limoges pieces Stella was supposed to find, but far more interesting.
Two hours went by before she realized.
“I come with tea.”
The voice came out of nowhere. Dropping the stack of photographs she held, Stella clutched her hand to her chest and turned around. Linus stood in the attic doorway, his silhouette backlit by the stairway light.
“Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to make you jump. I thought you could do with something warm. These old attics can be drafty.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” she replied, her heart rate slowing to normal, “but now that you mention it, I do feel a chill. Thank you.”
He came all the way into the room and handed her one of the two earthenware mugs he was carrying. Steam and the aroma of black tea drifted into Stella’s face. She inhaled deeply before taking a sip.
“So what is it that has you so engrossed that you didn’t notice the temperature?” Linus arranged himself atop the steamer trunk a few feet from her, using a smaller box as a footrest, and cradled his mug. The sloping roof and small space made his presence seem even larger. He was wearing a T-shirt. A gray cotton reminder of earlier.
Suddenly, Stella didn’t need the tea for warmth. She sipped it anyway, for something to do. “I found another collection of old photographs. Personal ones this time.” The pile she’d dropped lay scattered at her feet. Bending over, she sorted through until she found the one she was looking for. “This looks like it was taken on someone’s yacht. Check it out.”
Linus whistled. “Is this who I think it is?”
“Read the back. There are journals, too,” she added when he arched his brow. “I couldn’t stop reading. It’s like a giant Pandora’s box of awesomeness. The more I read, the more amazed I am.” A woman who carved out her life on her terms, that’s who Agnes Moreland was. Stella was inadequate in comparison.
Before the dissatisfaction could ruin her mood, she switched topics. “How was your afternoon?
“Quite pleasant. I watched rugby and read a few lab reports and Teddy fell asleep reading the paper. He snores, by the way.”
“And Toffee?”
“When I last left her, the owner of the house was batting a piece of uncooked pasta around the kitchen. Do not ask me where she got it.”
From the mischievous g
lint in his eye, Stella could guess. “Thank you for entertaining her,” she said.
It dawned on her that while she’d packed for Toffee, she’d invited Linus along without a single thought as to his entertainment. “I’m a terrible hostess,” she said. “I’ve been ignoring you all afternoon.”
“I knew what I was getting into.”
And he said yes anyway? A little piece of her melted. “You’re a good friend,” she said. A reminder for them both. Mostly her, though, since she was also thinking how amazing he was at the moment and how nicely he filled out his T-shirt.
He smiled in response, causing her to smile back, and for several minutes the two of them just sat there smiling.
Linus was the one to break the mood. “That reminds me,” he said. “The other reason I came upstairs. Teddy has volunteered to watch Toffee so we could go out to dinner.”
“He did?” A frisson of suspicion passed through her. “Why?” Teddy didn’t seem the type to make magnanimous gestures.
“We were talking about the Rose and Badger, and I mentioned that I hadn’t been there in years but that you don’t like to leave Toffee home alone, so he offered. My guess is he wants to win your favor, since you caught him staying here,” he added before raising his mug.
“And what is the Rose and Badger?”
“A pub a few kilometers north of here, near the henge. Serves the most amazing roast beef and pudding. My grandfather used to bring us when I was a little boy.”
“Did you say henge?”
“I did. There’s a large one in Avebury. Not as famous as Stonehenge, but very popular with the pagan community. Are you interested? In dinner, I mean.”
Dinner with Linus in an authentic English pub across from a pagan henge? Sounded...romantic.
“I had planned to work most of the night.” Soon as she answered, she realized how rude that sounded. “I’m also filthy. I’ve been digging through these dusty papers.”
“You look fine. We’re talking about a pub, not a five-star restaurant.”
“But I packed dinner. Mrs. Churchill made a giant casserole. I put it in the cooler.”
He frowned. “What cooler?”
“Sorry. The hamper.”
“I know what a cooler is. I was asking what cooler.”
“The blue one. I set it next to Toffee’s bag.”
Linus shook his head. “I unpacked everything from the car. There was no cooler, or whatever you want to call it.”
“Sure there is. I distinctly remember putting the casserole in it. Don’t tell me we forgot to pack it?”
“Sorry, luv.” He offered her a contrite smile. “Sure you don’t want to change your mind about the pub? Least you can do after ignoring me all afternoon.”
“You...” He was joking. Nevertheless, his teasing hit a nerve. Stella sighed. She’d hoped to use tonight to make up the time she wasted this afternoon. On the other hand, it was only dinner, and she did owe Linus something for driving.
As for the night sounding romantic...? Romance was ninety-nine percent mental. Linus by candlelight didn’t have to be any different than the Linus she saw every day.
“Sure,” she replied. “Dinner it is.”
The relief Linus felt at Stella’s acceptance surprised him, although not nearly as much as the tremor of excitement accompanying it. Taking Stella to dinner wasn’t something he’d considered until Teddy mentioned the pub in passing. As soon as he did, though, Linus seized on the opportunity. It would be a complete waste for Stella to work the entire weekend—and she would, too, using Toffee as the excuse. Therefore he immediately began dropping hints until Teddy found himself “volunteering” his cat-sitting services. Linus told himself the night out was for Stella’s sake, and he played off his excitement as satisfaction that his plan worked.
At least he did until dinner. He was in the front entranceway talking with Teddy when he heard Stella descending the stairs.
“I didn’t keep you waiting, did I?” she asked.
Dear Lord. All that talk about stopping a room with her entrance... Linus glanced at the portrait on the wall and mentally shook his head. Not even close.
How could Stella not see her own charisma? She’d changed clothes, switching her turtleneck to a V-neck sweater that reflected pink onto her skin. Wide and boxy, the soft-looking knit ended above her waist. Long enough to cover her, but square enough that there was space between sweater and skin. A man could easily slide his hand underneath. The thought affected Linus’s ability to breathe.
“Aren’t women supposed to make men wait? Aunt Agnes took forever when I was simply visiting for tea.”
Thank God for Teddy. Gave him time to clear his throat. “It was worth the wait,” he replied. “You look lovely.”
She smiled and tucked the hair behind her ear. “I know you said I didn’t have to, but after an afternoon in the attic, I needed a shower. Are you sure you don’t mind watching Toffee?” she asked, turning to Teddy.
“My dear girl, Etonia Toffee Pudding is like family. I’ve spent many hours with her sitting near me. Tonight won’t be any different.”
“We’ll only be gone a couple hours,” Linus told him.
“Or less,” Stella quickly added.
He hated how she was already shortchanging her enjoyment by planning to hurry back.
The Rose and Badger stood on the outskirts of town, on a road leading to Avebury proper. Linus had never given it much thought before, but once upon a time, the pub must have been an inn for Travelers. The building itself was white stucco with thick brown shutters. Above the faded white lettering on the sign was a painting of a badger, a rose trapped beneath its front paws. Sometime during the afternoon, the clouds had receded, leaving behind a full moon. It cast a silvery glow on the parking lot.
“Do you know how pubs got their odd names?” he asked as they stepped out onto the gravel. “The pictures were for illiterate travelers. If you were meeting someone and couldn’t read, you could locate an establishment by describing the picture. ‘Meet me at the Rose and Badger pub.’”
“Interesting.”
Linus winced. He sounded more like a tour guide than a dinner companion. He was out of his element. Normally he took his dates out in the city, where he could charm them with witty anecdotes. This was the first time he’d taken a woman to a place from his childhood.
It also wasn’t a date, he reminded himself as he opened the front door.
“I’m going to go out on a limb and say not many pubs were named after their owners then. Unless they knew a professional artist,” Stella said, still on his original comment.
“No, but there are a few Slaughtered Lambs and what not.”
“Sounds appetizing. Oh, this is lovely.”
Not as lovely as her enchanted expression. The pub’s interior hadn’t changed much since he was a boy, or in the last four hundred years, for that matter. The room was still dark, the light limited to a handful of hanging lanterns and candles on the tables. The same antique farm implements from around the area hung on the exposed beams. At this point Linus almost suspected they were original furnishings, like the pagan symbols interspersed among them.
The air around them smelled of wood smoke, fennel and onion. As they walked to a table near the fireplace, he breathed in the aroma and decided his ruse definitely was worth it. “Admit it,” he said. “This is better than reheated casserole.”
“Out of respect for Mrs. Churchill, I refuse to comment until I’ve actually tasted the food. However, I’ll admit the atmosphere is impressive.”
Why, then, wasn’t she relaxed? He could see the tension in her shoulders. Come to think of it, she’d been tense when he first made the suggestion of dinner as well. “If you’re worried about staying out too long...” he started.
“It still seems odd that Teddy would volunteer to cat sit. When he came
to the apartment, he was all about being served.”
“That was before, though. Like I said earlier, maybe he feels the need to get on your good side.” Stella shrugged, not quite convinced.
“If you’re worried, we can go back.”
She looked about to speak, only to stop and shake her head. “No. We’re here. And I’m being overprotective, or under-trusting or whatever. I’m sure Toffee will be fine.”
Linus let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I fed her before we left. She’ll probably spend the night bathing and sleeping by the fire. In fact, I imagine both of them will. Sleep by the fire, that is. I’d rather not picture Teddy licking himself.”
“Oh my,” Stella said, pressing a hand to her mouth. “Me neither.”
They shared a mutual shudder. In the candlelight, Stella’s eyes took on a golden sheen. Linus had never paid close attention to a woman’s eye color before. He limited himself to three basic descriptors: brown, hazel and blue. Stella’s eyes, however, were multidimensional. Multiple shades of brown blended together. A man could stare into them for hours and not be able to pick out all the different colors.
She looked away, and he felt her gaze’s absence. “How old did you say this restaurant is?” she asked as she studied the fireplace mantel.
He wanted to catch her chin and turn her face back to his. “Four hundred years. Give or take a few decades.”
“Wow. Can you imagine? Four centuries ago, another pair of travelers ate in this very spot.”
A fanciful thought. He liked the dreamlike expression it brought to her face. “Maybe. Bet they didn’t have as good a wine list, though.” He winked at her over the menu.
Get a grip on yourself, Russo. Stella raised the menu in front of her face so Linus couldn’t see the blush on her cheeks. What was with her? You’d think she was a nervous teenager on her first date. All day long, her insides had been fluttering and tumbling like someone replaced her organs with a giant swarm of butterflies. It was embarrassing. Right up there with how she took thirty minutes to change her sweater. At least showering and redoing her makeup made sense after being in the attic all day. Blushing at every little thing her friend said did not.
A Year With the Millionaire Next Door Page 9