Chapter 9
Nine
SARAH
“Iput the fire on!” Theo shouted from the living room.
The coastal winter chill cut through my knitted cardigan. I grabbed the mugs of hot tea, delighting in the rush of heat up my arms, and hurried from the kitchen into the living room. My thick socks had slipped and were getting dangerously close to tripping me up.
Thankfully, Theo crossed the room to take the mugs, and I smiled at the sight of the flickering flames in the wall inset as I bent down to pull up my socks. “It’s my first time using the fire.”
The bungalow had a gas fireplace mounted inside the wall that was far more modern than the rest of the surroundings.
“It’s bloody hyperborean,” Theo muttered, sniffing the tea.
I smiled. He couldn’t just say it was cold.
He held out one of the mugs to me, and I assumed it was my chamomile. Theo liked peppermint.
I tried not to stare at him as he sipped, his gaze drawn toward the large picture window. It was now November and another two weeks had passed. Theo had been here for three weeks in total. It strangely didn’t feel that long, while at the same time, it felt like he’d been here forever.
We’d fallen into a comfortable routine that I never would’ve imagined in my wildest dreams. We both woke up roughly around the same early hour.
We’d have a cup of coffee and something to eat and then take turns showering and readying for the day.
If the weather permitted, we’d go for a companionable walk on the beach only to return to write.
We’d break for lunch either at home or we’d venture out, and then we’d review the script.
In the evening, Theo would tease me about my lack of television while we watched a movie or TV show together on either one of our laptops.
It felt easy and natural, like we’d been doing this our whole lives.
Conversation didn’t stall, and we talked about nearly everything and nothing. The only thing we didn’t venture into was the past. Theo Cavendish had walls built around his heart that were at least a mile high and constructed of solid ice.
If that bothered me, I ignored it, just as I ignored my growing attraction to him. Before, I’d thought him handsome and I’d had a creative crush on him. Now, I didn’t know what I felt. I just knew it was more. Physically and emotionally.
But I wouldn’t spoil what felt like friendship for the sake of a one-sided infatuation.
Autumn had been mild for this far north.
However, this morning we’d woken up to an early November winter.
Our cars sat in my driveway, the windshields crusted in ice, and the floorboards were freezing beneath our bare feet.
The bungalow had central heating, but I hadn’t switched it up high enough, so the house was taking a while to heat up.
Thankfully, we had the fire in the living room.
I searched Theo’s profile, the strong, straight nose, the hard angle of his jaw, the slightly sharp cheekbones and the contrast of all that masculinity against the pout of his mouth. My belly fluttered and I dragged my eyes off him to follow his gaze.
The mountains across Gairloch Loch were snow-dusted, and the icy pale gray of the sky made the loch look like it had a layer of frost over the top.
Puffy clouds reflected in the water. The naked trees were touched with frost, the roads and grass and plants too.
Not quite as still as ice but glittery and magical.
It was beautiful here. I’d never spent much time in Gairloch in winter, but I was never more grateful for the bungalow.
“I was up during the night working on another scene.” Theo wrenched his eyes from the stunning view. “Perhaps you could look at it before you start your chapter?”
Surprised he’d been working through the night, I wanted to ask him why but knew he’d probably just fob me off with a vague, dry answer.
“Sure.” I walked past him to the desk and settled in.
Theo followed, resting his mug of tea next to mine before he dragged his chair over to my desk. Our legs and shoulders brushed as he sat, and a prickle of awareness shivered down my neck.
I must have made some kind of movement because Theo frowned. He was so close I could see the silver striations in his pale gray-blue eyes. His aftershave tickled my senses with its spicy, woodsy masculine scent. “Are you still cold?”
Clasping my mug in my hands, I nodded without looking at him, fighting back the pink that wanted to bloom on my cheeks. Think of cold soup, period cramps, of Harry Renfrew whose tongue felt like an out-of-control slug in your mouth. I sipped at my tea, the thoughts doing the trick.
“The fire should warm up the room soon,” Theo murmured, seeming to shift unconsciously closer to me as he opened his laptop.
So far, our work on the script had gone more seamlessly than I could have hoped.
Theo was a bit of a control freak when it came to his writing, but he’d proven a willing listener if I had a difference of opinion.
That didn’t mean he didn’t wield sarcasm like a blade, but I was used to him now and didn’t take his personality personally.
In fact, I got the impression he quite liked it when I jabbed back.
Half an hour later, Theo’s proximity was no longer forefront of my mind as I got lost in our discussion about the script.
“You need to add the sex scene here. It’s the perfect transition between the scene where she’s emotional and exhausted by the dead end she’s met on the case, and then the scene after the intimate interlude, where she’s compartmentalizing and being strong.
The sex scene fits perfectly between those two moments. ”
Theo rubbed his eyebrow in thought. “I think it’s gratuitous. You don’t see that sex scene on the page in the book, Ms. Fade to Black. So why should we put it in the show?”
It was true I mostly didn’t write sex on the page, but I also didn’t always fade to black either.
“But Juno thinks about the sex with Cameron as they’re changing afterward.
” Cameron is Juno’s friend-with-benefits in book one.
She’s a total commitment-phobe because of her past and her job.
“She’s impatient to get away from him. It surprises me that you don’t understand what’s going on in this scene. ”
Hearing my frustration, Theo quirked an eyebrow. “Well, explain it slowly, little mouse, so my feeble brain can comprehend.”
Ignoring his tone, I continued, “She thinks to herself how Cameron’s constantly asking her if this or that is getting her off, if she wants this, if she wants that, does she like this … it kills her desire.”
Theo frowned. “Later in book three or four, she has sex with that ex-criminal who is dominant and aggressive, and she gets off on it.”
“Exactly!” I was so into our discussion, it didn’t even occur to me to be embarrassed we were talking about sex.
“She spends all day every day in this traditionally masculine role, being the boss, making decisions, carrying this tremendous weight of responsibility on her shoulders. Sex is the one place she doesn’t want to make decisions or think. ”
“She just wants to be fucked,” he murmured.
Pink heat hit my cheeks and I looked hurriedly back at the laptop. Damn it. “Aye, pretty much.”
I could feel him staring at me. “Okay. I understand where you’re coming from. That this facet of her personality is important—”
“For women, in particular.”
“Right. Well, we can talk about working it into the script in a way we’re both comfortable with.”
“Okay.” I chanced a glance at him. His eyebrows furrowed in thought as his gaze searched my face. “What?”
“Is that what you like in bed?” Theo asked matter-of-factly. “To be dominated?”
The old me would have stuttered in mortification and, unable to find an excuse to leave, would have fled the scene. The new me clenched her fists and forced herself to stay seated.
“You don’t have to answer, little mouse. I was merely curious as to where Juno comes from.”
Perhaps it was his use of my nickname or the idea that he didn’t see me as a woman beyond the pen behind Juno, but I straightened in my chair, causing our shoulders to brush.
“I’ll tell you if you tell me something real about you.
” I repeated my words from the diner. So far I only knew he’d once had a girlfriend he’d been extremely close to, and that he’d held his mother’s hand while she died.
Small pieces of a puzzle that helped me understand why Theo might be so closed off.
Theo leaned back slightly, his eyes low-lidded as he stared emotionlessly at me.
I instantly felt insecure. Why on earth would Theo Cavendish share personal information he didn’t share with anyone just to find out if I liked to be dominated in bed?
I wasn’t that interesting. My cheeks flushed, and I let out a small laugh.
“Never mind. I think we should break for lunch. And then I really need to write my chapter.”
“I didn’t just come here to write the script. I came here to get away from my brother.”
I glanced sharply up at Theo, surprised by this information, and the fact he’d offered it. “Your brother?”
He exhaled heavily, his tone bored, but I heard the edge beneath the apathy.
“He wants me to visit with my father because my father has testicular cancer. Very treatable testicular cancer. He’s going to be fine.
But my brother, Sebastian, heir to the viscountcy and all-around perfect boy wonder, decided to camp out in Ardnoch until I agreed to return to London. ”
My mind whirred with speculation. “You dislike your father?”
“He cheated on my mother their entire marriage, and he punished her when she”—he made air quotes—“didn’t behave like the exemplary wife of a viscount and lady of society. When she coddled me—”
“Punished her?” I glowered.