Chapter 17
seventeen
AMANDA
I might well have had the best sleep I’d had in years after Henry’s finger-fest on the dining table. I’d offered to take care of his rather generously erect self when he’d escorted me up the stairs, but he’d declined, telling me it was late and he could wait until we were both a bit brighter-eyed.
We’d lain in bed, me on one side of the wall, and him on the other, texting until I fell asleep with a huge smile on my face and satisfaction still roiling through my body.
The manor felt unusually peaceful the morning after the Christmas fair. I’d been awake since half past six, unable to rest with so many thoughts racing in my head.
I told myself I was going outside to check the final preparations for Christmas Day.
But it was a lie, of course. I wanted to see him.
I found him beside the stable, breath fogging in the cold air while he brushed hay from Merv’s coat. His hair poked out from beneath a woollen hat in ridicuously adorable curls, and his cheeks shone pink from the cold.
Merv saw me first, lifting his head and braying. His ears perked up as he trotted straight over, nudging my side like a giant puppy.
‘He likes you,’ Henry said with a laugh.
‘I hope that’s because you’ve been putting a good word in for me,’ I said, petting Merv’s forehead as he nudged me harder. ‘But it might be because I have a clementine in my pocket.’
‘He’s selective, so you should be flattered.’
I laughed, and Henry’s eyes flicked to me, a delighted grin covering his face.
‘What?’ I asked.
‘I’ve been waiting to see you smile for real. It’s as beautiful as I pictured.’
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and flushed.
Henry held out a soft-bristled brush. ‘Want to help?’
‘He doesn’t kick, does he?’
‘Not if you’re nice to him. I can’t guarantee he won’t pinch your orange, though.’
Merv nudged my pockets the moment I stepped into the stable. I handed the orange to Henry, who swapped it for a soft-bristled brush.
Our shoulders brushed against each other now and then as we worked, him feeding the donkey and fussing over him, me brushing his soft coat. It was quiet. The kind of quiet that felt comfortable rather than awkward. I ran the brush down Merv’s side, watching dust and stray hay fall away.
‘You’re good with him,’ Henry said, his hand grazing mine as I brushed.
‘Animals are easy,’ I murmured. ‘I’m used to trying to corral humans.’
‘Good point.’
‘I don’t actually know much about you, I don’t even know how old you are.’ It’s probably something I should have asked before having him pin me to a table and forget my name.
‘Twenty-five.’
I blinked.
‘Oh God. I’m nearly thirty.’
‘And?’ he said, his eyebrows lifted in amusement.
‘Am I a cougar? Guys don’t usually like older women.’
‘Amanda, I lost myself the moment you walked into the manor, looking ready to claw someone’s eyes out.’
I winced. ‘I was stressed!’
‘I love your fire, but I love it even more because it makes the moments you let me lead all the more delicious.’
I inhaled sharply, focusing on the brush as warmth diffused through me. ’So you don’t expect me to be all docile and sweet out of bed?’
He raised an eyebrow.
‘I don’t believe we’ve made it to a bed yet.’
My face burned.
He tilted my chin up with one finger.
‘No,’ he said. ‘I don’t expect docile. Or sweet. Or tame.’
His voice dropped all growly again, and I clenched my thighs with the memory of the previous night's activities.
‘Where’s the fun in taming you if you aren’t feisty?’
‘You’re ridiculous,’ I said with a roll of my eyes.
‘And you like it.’
I didn’t answer because I couldn’t deny it. Despite my initial annoyance at his over-the-top cheeriness, being wrapped in it was like being wrapped in a squishy duvet.
When we finished, Henry dusted his hands off and gave Merv a pat before turning to me again.
‘So what’s on the cards for the day?’
‘Appeasing the clients, making sure everything is set for both Christmas Eve and the big day. Just the usual.’
We stepped out of the stable into a drifting snowfall, the flakes fat and light, dancing down around us.
‘I guess the wealthy really can get everything they ask for,’ I said, knowing that they’d be thrilled with the change in weather.
Henry’s fingers found mine, their roughness reassuring as he slid them into my hand.
‘And sometimes, even the gardener does,’ he murmured under his breath.
I went back to work with a pep in my step.