Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
As alluring as those blue eyes were, as attractive as Matthew’s chiseled lips and jaw appeared, there was no way Winnie was going to turn this working trip into a…a…a one-kiss stand.
She raised her chin. “This is a business trip, Matthew, and tradition or not, I don’t think it would be appropriate to give in to it.”
In an instant, Matthew’s lips curled. “You don’t think what would be appropriate?” he asked innocently. “All I was doing was telling you a story, Miss Knox.”
He lifted his hands from the gate and took a small step back, finally allowing her passage.
The little tripe. He knew exactly what he was doing to her. This was like grooming Nightshade all over again.
“So it’s going to be like that, is it?” she asked. “You teasing me only to deny it later on?” She pushed the gate open and slipped through it, bumping him softly on the side with the wood.
He skittered out of the way with a little laugh. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Really?” she asked pointedly. “So you weren’t just asking me to kiss you, then? ”
He focused straight ahead, his eyes still shining. “If I wanted to kiss you, believe me, I wouldn’t have to ask you for it. You’d give it of your own freewill.”
Her breath halted. What were they doing, chatting away so comfortably about kissing ?
“You think very highly of yourself,” she said, trying to prove she was more at ease than she was.
“No, I’m just a realist.”
Winnie shook her head, wanting to say something more, but as the pathway narrowed and the steps began, she didn’t get the chance.
It was just as well. He’d have some response waiting anyway that would blow hers out of the water. He always did.
With the idea of kissing Matthew still at the back of her mind, she focused all the harder on the scenery around her until they reached the top. Propping her hands on her hips, she stood with her feet securely on the limestone, the years having eroded the pavement into bumpy blocks and deep cracks. Breathless from exhaustion and the sight, she stared out across the valleys and marveled at the view.
“You can see for miles,” she breathed out, shaking her head in amazement.
Her eyes followed the bent trails of the tanned pathway they’d walked across to the cragged river that curved through the land like a silvery snake.
She’d heard of the green that England boasted, but she’d never expected this. Utah was very often yellow and brown. New York was metal and silver. But England…England was life.
“You approve, then?” Matthew asked.
“How could anyone not?”
“You’re right about that.” Then he paused. “Pop trivia question. What movie was filmed on top of here?”
She instantly shook her head. “Oh, I’ll definitely lose at that game.”
“Not into movies?”
“No, I like movies enough.” She raised her voice to be heard above the wind whistling in her ears. “I just wasn’t allowed to watch many growing up, so I haven’t seen as many as most people have.”
“You weren’t allowed?”
She should have known that’s what he’d fixate on. It was strange.
“Yeah,” she said with a shrug. “My parents wanted us to focus on more important things than media, so we could only ever watch documentaries and things like that. I made up for it in college, though. My roommates made sure of that.”
Since her parents didn’t believe in watching films that had no educational purpose, she and her roommates had stayed up every night, binge-watching all the shows and movies from every genre they recommended. Chick-flicks, historical romances, horrors, adventures, sci-fi, fantasy. She’d seen more in those few years than she had in her entire life. While she loved it, watching so many films also made it more difficult to continue getting straight A’s, which her parents required.
Matthew didn’t respond, the wheels in his head still clearly turning.
“So are you gonna tell me what movie it was?” she asked, desperate to divert the attention away from her controlled life.
“Oh, Harry Potter ,” he responded. “He and Hermione sit atop here in Deathly Hallows, Part One .” Then he looked at her sidelong. “I take it you don’t remember the scene.”
“Um, no,” she said. “I don’t remember much of the series.”
“Well, you ought to watch them again. Or rather, you ought to read the books.”
She shrugged. “If I had the time I would. Probably.”
“Maybe I’ll make it a goal to make you a Potterhead by the end of this trip.”
“And how would you manage to accomplish that?”
He shrugged. “I have my ways. Just like I’m going to convince you to bring the damsel in distress back to the jousting tournament.”
She laughed. “Good luck with that. But, wait, I thought we weren’t supposed to talk about work?”
“All right. Correction. I can. You can’t.” He walked across the cracked top of the cove. “What’s your problem with having a damsel anyway? Too un-feminist for you?”
She followed after him, focusing her eyes on the large gaps between the limestone to avoid tripping. “Exactly. And like I said before, we’re in the twenty-first century.”
“What’s so outdated and terrible about being a damsel in distress?” he continued, sidestepping a large crack.
“It just insinuates that women can’t take care of themselves when we’re perfectly capable of doing so.”
“And can you always?” he asked.
She thought for a minute. “We ought to be able to.”
“Then is it wrong for men to need help every once in a while?”
“No.”
“So what’s with the double standard, Miss Knox?”
She pulled in her lips, staring at the back of his head. Honestly, he had a point. But it was different. Wasn’t it? “I dunno. I just—Oh!”
Her foot caught against one of the crags sticking up, and she launched forward toward Matthew. He turned just in time, wrapping his hands around her and steadying her.
She breathed hard, righting herself at once and smoothing down her jacket. “Blasted boots.”
“Oh, come now,” Matthew said. “Don’t be blaming them when the limestone is at fault.”
She glanced up at him, seeing him fight off a smile.
“What?” she demanded. He had to be laughing at her tripping.
“I just think it’s ironic. For someone who doesn’t like being rescued, you do find yourself in a lot of situations requiring rescuing.”
Winnie pulled on a frown. “I can take care of myself,” she said weakly.
He stared at her, and his features softened. “There’s nothing wrong with needing help, Winnie. Or accepting it. To need help is to be human. To accept it is to be humble. I learned that from you.”
Winnie’s heart raced. That was the first time she’d heard him call her by her given name in…how long? Ever? But his words were what lingered the most.
“So you’re coming to understand that it’s good to accept help, then?” she asked.
He walked past her with a hidden smile. “I’m beginning to see the value in it, yes. Ready to go?”
Winnie could only follow in silence.
On the way down, she received three more compliments over her—no, Char’s —boots, which she accepted with a smile and a gracious, “Thank you,” and when they reached the kissing gate again, she pushed through before Matthew had the chance.
“I’ll be going first, thank you,” she said with a pointed look.
“Why, so you can demand a kiss?” he asked with a knowing smile that made her heart curl warmly in her chest.
She hadn’t been able to muster a response, so she’d merely slipped through and marched on, forcing the image of kissing Matthew Wintour from her mind once and for all.
Or, for her sake, she hoped it would be once and for all.