Chapter Four #2
As they went down the front steps, he turned to her. “Wilder.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You called me Mr. Blane. Blane’s the first name. Wilder’s the last. Blane Wilder.”
“I see. Very nice to meet you, Mr. Wilder.”
“I know,” he grumbled beside her. “Not exactly wild, am I?”
“That,” she said, “rather depends on your definition of wild. Doesn’t it?”
~ ~ ~
It felt strange to walk beside him. He was so…
large. She kept coming back to that word; she didn’t know how else to describe him.
It wasn’t unpleasant, though—there was something rather comforting about his presence.
And she noticed, as they walked easily side by side, that he must be matching her stride.
He was so much taller, his legs so much longer, and yet not once did she have to hurry to keep up.
That was how it had always been with Simon.
Now she thought about it, that was how her whole life with him had gone; he forged ahead toward whatever goal he’d set himself, and she scurried along behind.
It was that or be left behind. In the two years since he’d died, she’d often wondered why she hadn’t simply chosen the second—let him forge on and stayed where she was.
“You okay? You sure you don’t mind me coming?” Blane’s deep, and for some ridiculous reason rather sexy, voice drew her out of her thoughts.
She turned to smile up at him, shading her eyes. “Sorry. I got lost in my head. I didn’t mean to be such poor company.”
There went that ghost of a smile at the corner of his mouth again. “I’d never call you poor company. Just meant you looked like something was bothering you. Long as you’re all right—that’s what matters. I don’t need constant conversation or anything.”
That made her chuckle. “Then you should probably brace yourself. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit of a talker.”
That earned her the full smile—and she found she enjoyed earning those rather too much.
“That’s what I figured,” he said. “That’s why the quiet surprised me. Why I checked.”
She opened her mouth, unsure whether or how to explain what she’d been thinking, but he held up a hand. “You don’t need to explain a damn thing to me.”
She closed her mouth again. He was right, of course.
It wasn’t as though she were making a new friend here.
They were sharing an afternoon, that was all.
No doubt they’d catch a few moments at the concert tonight, one way or another—and then that would be that.
He’d go back to wherever he came from. She’d go on to Crete and never see him again.
So instead of explaining Simon, or any of it, she pointed toward the entrance.
“We go in over there. You used to be able to walk straight up the steps, but now there’s the back-and-forth queue where they check your bags.
” She looked him up and down. “Though I don’t suppose security people ever give you any trouble, do they? ”
He lifted a shoulder. “Never say never. But I don’t expect any, no.”
As they went through, Bea displayed the contents of her handbag while Blane stood at her side. She guessed the security team, busy checking the hordes of tourists around them, clocked him as a kindred spirit and waved him through.
Once they were inside the museum, she pointed toward the map, not knowing how he wanted to proceed. Of course she’d enjoy spending some time with him, but she didn’t want either of them to feel obliged.
He studied the map for a moment, then turned back to her. “What is it you want to see?”
“I tend to wander through whichever rooms catch my interest when I come, but today I want to see the Cretan exhibits in particular.”
Little furrows creased his brow. “I don’t know much about ancient Greece. Mind if I tag along?”
“Not in the least. I’d enjoy your company,” she told him honestly. “Do you think we should take a walk by the Rosetta Stone first?”
The lines at the corners of his eyes deepened—she was learning to recognize them now, as the precursor to a smile. “Let’s do your Crete room first. We can see the Rosetta thing on the way back.”
She rolled her eyes. “Stone, Blane. The Rosetta Stone.”
Her heart thudded to a stop when he winked at her and then grumbled, “Yeah, yeah. I know.”
As they made their way toward the rooms that held the artifacts from ancient Greece, she discovered just how much she enjoyed having him right there beside her.
Of course, it made things easier—no one jostled her, and a path seemed to open before them like the Red Sea before Moses.
He didn’t say much, but every time she stole a glance, he seemed genuinely interested, looking around, taking it in.
She’d half feared he might be here against his will—cajoled by his friend, then encouraged by her.
When they reached the Crete room, she looked up at him. “Are you sure you’re up for this? I won’t keep you, if the mummies are calling.”
“Can’t say I’ve ever had much interest in—” he glanced at the signs “—Minoan culture, before. But I could say the same about most of what’s in here.
” He turned slightly to face her and did that thing where he looked straight into her eyes, making her heart rate pick up.
“If I’m being honest, you’re my main reason for being here.
So I’ll stick with you, if you’re good with that. ”
She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. “I am.” She nodded happily. “And since we’re being honest—I’m very glad you’re here.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
When he didn’t say any more, she turned to the first of the display cases, a little flustered, if she were honest. She studied the placard, taking in what she’d be looking at.
That fizzy feeling bubbled up again when he stood just behind her, reading over her shoulder. “What’s your interest in Crete?”
She straightened and turned to find herself face to face with his broad, solid chest. She had to tip her head back to look up at him.
“Sorry, I haven’t told you, have I? Though I don’t suppose there’s been any reason to.
I tend to feel as if everyone knows what I’m up to, because it seems so enormous to me.
Well—it is enormous. I’m moving my entire life there. ”
As she rambled, she watched his eyebrows climb. She reached out and slapped his arm. “Stop looking at me like that. I may ramble a little, but I do get to my point eventually.”
He chuckled. “I never said a word.”
“You didn’t need to. Your eyebrows speak for you.”
That drew his brows together, which only made her laugh. “Sorry—I assumed you knew. They’re very expressive.”
“They are? The guys tell me I’ve got a stony face.”
“Oh, no. You have a very handsome face.” Her hand came up to cover her mouth. She couldn’t believe she’d said it aloud. But the way he was smiling, she could hardly regret it. He said nothing, and she shrugged. “Sorry. But it’s true. I don’t mean to embarrass either of us, but it is.”
“Hell. You’re not going to embarrass me telling me that.”
“I’m sure you must have heard it before.”