The Windsor Love Pact (Windsor Riverside Romances #1)

Chapter 1

Maya gasped in shock as a man barrelled into her, knocking the lukewarm coffee she’d been sipping straight over her white vintage lace t-shirt.

Time froze for a second before she realised that he was holding her arms to steady her and apologising profusely.

‘I’m so sorry!’ he said, his tone breathless as he pushed the black baseball cap he was wearing further back to reveal more of his face and then glanced behind him.

Maya felt another punch of surprise as she recognised the piercing blue of his eyes first and then the fact that they were filled with panic.

She looked over his shoulder and noted a crowd forming on the other side of the pretty little flower-adorned bridge they were standing on and frowned, before understanding dawned.

Recalling the feeling of having no privacy, she quickly wondered how she could limit the damage to this escalating situation.

‘Please let me pay for your dry cleaning and coffee,’ he said hurriedly, as he tried to draw her away from the crowd, who looked as if they were deciding how much they could push their luck by approaching their idol.

Maya’s own eyes sparkled as she had literally just been thinking that her days were pretty quiet, after her own touches with fame.

Now she was standing on the bridge next to her rental house with devilishly handsome bad boy, Noah Benedict!

It was like a scene from one of his movies.

‘It’s fine,’ she said lightly.

‘It looks like you’re in a bit of a predicament,’ she nodded towards the crowd who were just now beginning to walk towards them as Maya and Noah rapidly turned back towards her house and the docks along that side of the river.

‘I was feeling a bit stir crazy and thought no one would notice me if I had a quick early morning stroll,’ he shrugged and then grinned self-depreciatingly, which made a few butterflies take flight in her stomach.

‘We all start pretty early here if we’re working on the boats and the cafés on that side of the water bring in droves of early morning dog walkers.

I live here…’ she pointed towards the first town house, then flushed as that might seem a tad stalkerish and forward.

‘I meant to hide in!’ she hurried on and he chuckled, but then looked over her shoulder again and grimaced.

‘But they already know you’re here and if that’s your boat,’ she nodded towards the shiny black powerboat that she’d seen docked outside his mansion situated further up the river when she helped on the river cruises, ‘then that’s your best bet.

Jump in and I’ll walk back across the bridge and hold them off. I probably know most of them.’

He heaved a huge sigh of relief and quickly took her hand to thank her. ‘Your clothes and coffee. What can I do to compensate you?’ he asked again as they reached his boat and he threw the cap in, leaving his dark blonde hair all mussed-up and sexy.

‘It’s nothing. It will take me two seconds to change clothes and I work across the water, so I won’t even be late for work.’ She smiled warmly at him, to show him she was sincere and he breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Thank you,’ he said as he jumped into his boat and set off.

‘I don’t even know your name,’ he called back, but she’d already turned and was walking rapidly towards the bridge and he had to quickly start the engine and move the boat back into the centre of the river.

After persuading the group on the bridge that there was nothing to see now, Maya caught her breath and stepped aboard Bertha , the timeworn steamboat that was docked on the river Thames, and waved to Joe, her grandad’s best friend and one of her favourite people on Earth.

What a morning! Joe ran the only steamboat on this stretch of the river, with its black and gold railings and cream and black lifebuoy rings that were tied at intervals with bright orange rope.

The forest-green awning that covered the seating area had seen better days and the paddle wheel needed a lick of paint, but the boat was still majestic despite being weathered from the water and passing of time.

Bertha ’s faded grandeur caught the interest of tourists walking around the dock area, and she often featured in people’s holiday snaps.

Joe’s business was largely based on ferrying tourists up and down the estuary and regaling them with local history, even if Maya was pretty sure he embellished his stories here and there for his own entertainment when she wasn’t around to chide him.

She wouldn’t be surprised if he added in a visiting humpback whale or a dragon living in the nearby castle at some point.

She ran her hands along the wooden handrail and enjoyed the feeling of her feet being back on board the solid timbers of Bertha ’s deck.

She’d missed this… both being on the water and part of a bustling community.

The river path wa s still a feathery assault course of swans and geese, hopeful that a passing child might drop a morsel of food and she breathed in the honey-sweet scent of the golden Marsh marigolds and tall grasses that were swaying in the slight breeze across the water, reminding her of home.

Sometimes she couldn’t believe how much her life had changed, but it felt good to be surrounded by so many memories of her childhood.

Maya grinned and waved to Roman, the guy who helped Joe with the river cruises.

Roman had his long dreadlocks held back with a headband as usual and he sent her a winning smile as he helped a customer step over the threshold of the deck, holding her walking stick, handbag and half-empty bottle of vodka! Maya’s mouth dropped open and then she giggled as Roman handed the items back to the woman once she was safely on board.

‘Roman,’ she called out, ‘do you need some help?’ The woman was certainly unsteady on her feet, but Maya suspected it was more likely from the drink than the need for her walking stick, as she was currently waving it at a huge seagull, who was regarding her with keen interest.

Roman shook his head, which made the ends of his hair fly around his shoulders.

‘I think I can manage.’ He winked, already reaching out to assist the next passenger on board.

Maya made a note to sit near to the wobbly customer, just in case she fell overboard.

There was a wooden-panelled bar in the centre of the boat with art deco effect mirroring along the back wall, that would have been opulent and glamorous in its heyday, but they only really served lukewarm rosé wine now so it was unusual for them to have to worry about customers overindulging, as they spent most of their time gazing at the lush river views, or into the verdant gardens of the exclusive houses that lined the waterfront.

Maya eyed the woman who was laughing uproariously at something her friend said, then saw that they were celebrating something by the way the second woman brought out a slightly squashed cake and some candles that she quickly discarded after a glance at Bertha ’s wooden bench seating.

She pulled a couple of plastic forks from her turquoise bag and they both tucked in with relish and more giggles.

One of the ladies caught Maya’s hand as she passed and she turned to them with a polite smile.

‘Are we likely to see Noah Benedict on this cruise?’ asked one, as she took both their plates and slipped them back into her bag, crumbs and all, which made Maya wince.

The other lady sat forward eagerly and Maya bit her lip in mirth.

Most of their customers mainly wanted a glimpse of Noah, the charismatic movie star who lived along the river in a beautiful glass and metal house that must have incredible views of the river.

Before he’d crashed into her that morning, Maya had actually glimpsed Noah herself on the grounds of his estate a few times and she could understand everyone’s excitement.

Being so close to him for a few moments had been a whole different experience.

Magnetism shone from him, even in his harassed state.

He had the usual Hollywood film star classic good looks; blonde tousled hair and piercing blue eyes with a requisite drool-worthy body that must take hours of punishment in the gym. The hunted look on his face had surprised her though. She’d assumed he courted publicity, as he was always featured in the press.

‘I can’t promise anything,’ she said, much to the ladies’ obvious disappointment, ‘but there have been more sightings of him from Bertha than any other cruise on the river,’ she added quickly, not mentioning that some of the villagers had seen him up close and in person that very morning.

These feisty ladies might lynch her!

Despite her broken-heart, Maya had started to feel that she was – slowly – starting to heal. It was good to be back again, back among people who’d known her as a child. Living beside the ebb and flow of the river after the glitz and glamour of the life and relationship that she’d had to leave behind, had brought her a quiet joy. Her old routine involved a fast-paced work life, creating intricate jewellery for influencers, celebs and attending non-stop parties. Now she spent her time by or on the water, on Joe’s boat or on the bank sketching wildlife, while she tried to come to terms with the loss of her jewellery design business and fiancé.

Walking in on him in bed with Portia, one of their models, had brought her glittering career and what she’d thought was a good life with her fiancé crashing down around her.

Maya thought back to her first sight of Blake. He was tall, dark and handsome, and surrounded by a group of eager women. He had been sitting astride a chair in their art class, where they were studying jewellery design, and his eyes met hers as she’d walked in. She’d felt a frisson of heat go down her spine and her cheeks flush. He’d sat next to her when their lecturer arrived and her heart was already metaphorically in his hands. They’d been so young. Together, their ideas were magic, though. Maya’s designs were unusual and customers adored her work. Blake quickly realised his genius lay in marketing, so he left the design work to Maya. An up-and-coming reality star had been photographed wearing one of their Luna Moth necklaces with delicately arched wings and sweeping tail in a nightclub in Soho, and suddenly everyone wanted to know their brand. Influencers were talking about them and their phones buzzed from morning to night with requests from stylists asking to borrow jewellery for events. They had been a dream team for a while with high-profile parties, celebrity endorsements and a swanky new flat.

Their list of clients had grown and although she’d been shy and hadn’t relished the spotlight, Blake had courted it.

‘Our success is down to my marketing skills,’ he’d repeated like a mantra.

‘Of course,’ she’d always appeased, as she’d sketched some new jewellery ideas, keeping her eyes down and firmly on her work.