Chapter Twelve

NATE

The following morning, I needed privacy to call Bim, so I used Jane Austen as my excuse to leave the house. I was glad Alex wanted to come with me. I was enjoying his company far more than I'd expected to when we'd agreed to work together, even without what had happened last night. Enjoyment didn't begin to cover how I felt about that.

"I thought we were doing the fashion museum," Alex said when I turned towards the Royal Crescent.

I stopped and stared at him. "You want to go and look at old clothes?"

"Of course not, but you know Fiona's going to be quizzing you about breeches at the most awkward and public moments." His lips twitched. "For some strange reason, I don't think she believes our Jane Austen alibi."

I'd never been able to resist a challenge. "In that case, we'll just have to learn everything there is to know about breechesso we can satisfy her curiosity."

I wouldn't say we learned everything about breeches, but we came close, questioning the curator closely. She said that everyone interested in breeches asked how they unfastened. No one, apparently, asked how they fastened. Alex's eyes filled with laughter, and I had to turn away. Otherwise I'd have either laughed out loud or kissed him.

I'd lain awake last night, thinking about Alex. I couldn't regret giving into temptation. It had been fantastic, and I wanted it again.

But there was a good reason why I didn't do repeats. The risk of someone seeing me for who I was would grow exponentially if I did. And I liked Alex. The thought of that bright smile turning to weariness and then disgust as he learned how little I had to offer, how clingy I was—no. I wasn't going down that path again. Never again.

But I'd told him last night that I realised it was just sex between us, that it hadn't meant anything. He knew I didn't expect anything from him. If I was careful, he wouldn't see anything except another hookup.

And if it meant I could have that again with him, I'd be more careful than anyone had ever been.

Finally satisfied that my breeches knowledge was up to whatever Fiona might throw at me, I suggested we head back to the coffee shop we'd found the other day. It wasn't very busy, and no one seemed to mind us sitting there for hours as long as we bought something every so often.

I tried to concentrate on some more Jane Austen research, but I was hyper-aware of Alex across the table from me. He was so close, yet I couldn't touch him. And I wanted to. Good as the sex had been, holding him afterwards had been amazing.

Don't be clingy, I reminded myself firmly and tore my attention away from him to read about famous Georgian actors. My cover story needed to look convincing by the time I left my phone somewhere obvious and unattended. At this rate, I might as well write the damn book.

"How would you feel about co-authoring a scandalously erotic Jane Austen romance?" I asked Alex.

He'd been buried in his own phone, looking up now and then to share with delighted horror the barbaric treatments for syphilis back in Jane's day.

"I'll leave all that stuff to you," he said. "Though if you want some erotic inspiration, I'd be happy to oblige."

The lilt in his voice and the glint in his eye took me straight back to when he'd been on top of me last night, and for an instant, it was difficult to breathe. I wanted a repeat, and I wanted it now.

I realised I was staring at him. I didn't know what was showing on my face, but his eyes were growing dark as he looked back at me, his gaze flicking between my eyes and my mouth. It wasn't an option to have sex at the Fortescues'. Leaving aside the whole etiquette issue and the complication of Charlie wanting me back, I didn't want this to be furtive and hushed.

"Flying tonight?" I suggested. Please God, may he say yes. May he want this as much as I did.

"So long as you bring some towels this time," he agreed. "I'll supply the lube."

There was an amused snort from the woman at the table next to us, who I thought had been reading her phone. God only knew what she was envisaging.

ALEX

Delicious anticipation had been filling me ever since Nate proposed another flying trip. Last night had been good, feeling his skin against mine, but I wanted so much more than that with him.

Nate suggested it would be polite to join the others for pre-dinner drinks in the drawing room before we left. It was a good idea—Margaret would be less likely to have my wings for missing supper if she saw me voluntarily socialising with Fortescues.

Unfortunately, Ella was there. She seized Nate, firing questions at him about Robert Elliston's career. It wouldn't have been a problem had James Fortescue not been within earshot. I had the impression he was listening to Ella and Nate, even as he worked his way around the room, speaking to everyone. The way these bankers knew how to schmooze left me feeling slightly sick.

"Honestly, Ella, I've been concentrating more on the best-seller potential than historical accuracy," Nate said. "Sex sells."

"But Jane Austen and sex? That's just wrong."

"Are you denying Jane her full identity?"

I stopped listening to them because James Fortescue was standing in front of me. "Alex," he said warmly. "We haven't had much of a chance to speak. How are you finding Bath?"

"Er, yeah. It's great," I said. "Nate's been showing me the Jane Austen stuff." Damn it, if I was going to lead our family properly, I'd need to learn how to speak to this sort of person in this sort of setting.

"He does appear to be quite involved in his research."

"Just don't ask him about breeches," I begged. "I thought the curator of the fashion museum was going to cry at the level of detail he went into."

"Really?" he said, a hint of surprise in his voice. "Are you interested in fashion, too?" His eyes flicked over me, and I had no idea how he kept a straight face. I was wearing my best suit—my only suit—but no one needed to tell me it was a world away from the one Nate was wearing. I'd never been anywhere people dressed up for supper in their own home.

"I'm not really into clothes," I said, and then I realised what he was up to. He wanted to know why I was spending so much time with Nate. Time to distract him from our collaborative investigation."The Georgian make-up display, though—that was kind of fun. I didn't know that they put mercury on their skin to get rid of freckles. Or that their cosmetics were basically arsenic and lead."

He cut in smoothly before I could get onto the good stuff, like the balls of cork people kept in their mouths to counteract sunken cheeks. "Tell me, Alex, what do you do when you're not understudying your aunt?"

Was this polite conversation or an inquisition? Honestly, I didn't know. I'd never been to a drinks party before we'd come to Bath. "I mainly research useless historical facts," I told him. "Did you know, Alexander the Great was buried alive? Mistakenly. Probably."

His smile became slightly fixed. "I'm glad you're enjoying Bath," he said, and moved on.

I manoeuvred myself into Nate's eyeline and raised my eyebrows. We were running out of time. He said something to Ella, and I thought he was about to leave when Anna Fortescue approached him. For God'ssake. Not that I blamed them for wanting Nate's attention, but were we ever going to go swimming?

I'd grown familiar with the differences between Nate's polite smile and his genuine one. But as Anna Fortescue spoke to him, low-voiced and earnest, there was no smile at all on his face.

NATE

I'd been looking forward to a repeat of our river trip. Not a precise repeat—I was determined neither of us was going anywhere near that water until we'd had sex. But between them, the Fortescue family managed to derail our evening plans comprehensively.

Ella finally stopped interrogating me about Jane Austen. "Why are you spending so much time with that Cornish dragon?" she demanded instead. "You should be with Charlie."

"Charlie and I split," I reminded her. Her eyes were fiery, and I'd need to navigate this carefully to avoid an eruption of some sort. I didn't know if she was aware Charlie had asked me to get back with him.

"I know things went wrong, but you're here now, and everything can go back to how it was."

It was an uncanny echo of what Charlie had said.

"But things aren't the same as they were. I'm not the same, and neither is Charlie."

"You can be if you want to be," she declared, and I remembered again how young she was.

"Why do you want us back together?" Her insistence made no sense.

"Because you should be together."

This was going in circles, and Alex was staring meaningfully at me from across the room. "Ella," I started, about to make my excuses and leave.

"Charlie's unhappy." It rushed out of her, fast and choppy. "He was always happy when you were together. Everything was better when you were here, Nate."

I didn't know what to make of that last sentence, so I ignored it. "The thing is, Ella, he wasn't happy because of me." He'd never have cheated on me if I'd made him happy. And suddenly, I understood why Charlie had asked me to get back with him. He associated happiness with being with me. It wasn't me he wanted back. It was the time when everything had been fun and easy.

Ella shook her head impatiently. "You're wrong."

I was still grappling with my revelation and couldn't remember what she was talking about. Thankfully, Mrs Fortescue's cool voice interrupted us.

"Nate, Ella."

Mrs Fortescue dismissed Ella with a mere flick of her eyes. "Nate," she said. "I'm sorry we haven't had a chance to catch up, but it's good to see you again. We always enjoyed your company. How is your great-uncle? And your—brother, isn't it?"

"Uncle Thaddeus passed away," I told her, carefully not mentioning that it had happened when I'd still been with Charlie. I couldn't expect her to remember the minutiae of my life. "Rufus is happily settled as the librarian at Mortimer College."

"I'm sorry about your uncle," she said. "That must have been a great loss."

"Thank you."

"Charlie lost his grandmother last year, you know. He was quite distraught."

He was? I didn't like to doubt her account, but the only time Charlie had mentioned a grandmother was when a duty visit was due each Christmas. And he'd never been complimentary.

"That was when he started staying out instead of spending his time here. It must have upset him even more than he divulged to me." Her eyes were intent on mine. "It was a shame that things didn't work out between you and Charlie. He benefited from your steadiness."

That smarted. It wasn't my fault we'd split up. "Perhaps he should have thought of that before he ended things." Or cheated.

"He's always been a little impetuous," she allowed. "But you know that. You know him. I think that if you were to spend more time with Charlie, it would give him a reason to come home. One that didn't remind him of his loss the way the rest of us do. He needs an anchor, and I think you can provide that."

Somehow, I managed to control the expression on my face. What did she think I'd been, Charlie's boyfriend or his therapist? Either way, I didn't want to spend time with him.

Mrs Fortescue waved away the fact Alex and I had given our apologies for supper with a lack of concern unlikely to be replicated by the staff cooking our meal, who'd suddenly have to conjure two more plates. She took me down to supper, her hand through the crook of my arm, and practically shoved me into the seat beside Charlie's usual place. He wasn't there.

I swiftly texted Alex under the table when no one was looking.

Tomorrow night?

He sent a thumbs up in response. When I met his gaze across the table, he looked as frustrated as I felt. He didn't seem to blame me for the wrecking of our plans, at least. That was little enough comfort when I thought what I'd expected to be doing at this minute, pressing nakedly against him and kissing him.

I looked down at my plate. Tomorrow. It was only twenty-four hours away. I could wait that long.

But I didn't want to wait.

ALEX

"Beckford's Tower?" Nate asked me, as we left the house the following morning.

"I assume that's a place you're suggesting we visit rather than you've suddenly lost the ability to speak in plain English."

"It would be an excuse to take the car out, and it's almost the right period. Although Miss Austen is unlikely to have moved in the same circles as such a dissolute character as Beckford, who was filthy rich and is said to have enjoyed orgies with his harem of young, male servants."

"He sounds much too interesting," I agreed as we left the Circus and headed for the lock-up where Nate kept the car. "Tell me about him."

Nate's knowledge of William Beckford was slightly less comprehensive than his mastery of breeches. When he reached the end of his facts, I let him concentrate on threading through the Bath traffic while I looked for more scandalous Beckford titbits on my phone.

"Alex."

Something in the way Nate said my name alarmed me. "What?"

"There's a red Ferrari a few cars back. Can you keep your eye on it?"

"I can," I said. "Mind telling me why?"

"Steven has a red Ferrari."

I sat up straight and began to pay attention. "Do you think he's following us?"

"I don't know."

"I suppose Ferraris are ten-a-penny around here." I wanted him to tell me they were.

"Not really. Okay, I'm about to pull in. See if it's him when it goes past."

Whether by accident or design, as we pulled off the road the Ferrari accelerated and overtook the line of cars passing us. That meant I couldn't see a damn thing, and by the time it returned to our side of the road, it was too far away for me to read the numberplate.

There was something cold in my belly. "You don't really think he was following us, if it was him. Do you?"

Nate had turned off the engine and was staring through the windscreen. "I don't see how he can have been. You're the only person who knows where I keep the car—I booked a private garage before reaching Bath. So he can't have followed us. If it was him, perhaps it was just coincidence." He raked his hand through his hair. "Was his car there when we left the house?"

I couldn't remember. I'd been concentrating on Nate, not random cars. "It's not very likely to have been him, is it?"

"It's our guilty consciences at work," he said, with an attempt at a grin. But his eyes were worried.

The incident put a bit of a damper on our visit to yet another old building. "Look," I said firmly when we returned to the car. "If it was him, then he was just checking up on what we're doing. If they knew for sure what we've been up to, James would have confronted us."

"Yes, but what's worrying me more—if it was him, how did he know where we were?"

I licked suddenly dry lips. "You think he's planted a GPS or something?"

"It's ridiculous. I know it's ridiculous," Nate said. "They're just a normal dragon family, not Jason Bourne."

True, but money bought access to a whole lot of things that weren't available to the rest of us.

I began to reason it through. "He doesn't know where you keep your car, so he can't have planted anything on your car. Your phone's always with you, so he can't have—"

"Unless he's hacked my tracking app," Nate said. "It's there in case my phone gets stolen."

Shit. "Delete it."

"Do you think he'd have been able to do that?"

"The Fortescues use hackers who can breach a fucking bank's security measures. Delete it." Something deep inside me was quivering. For the first time, I realised the seriousness of what we were doing and what the outcome could be.

Nate paused with his finger over his screen. "If I delete it immediately after Steven thinks we could have spotted him, they'll know that we know."

"Oh, God." I banged my head back against the headrest. "I am not cut out for a life of espionage."

"We're being honest about where we're going, so it doesn't matter if they do follow us," Nate reasoned.

"Except for the river and flying. I don't like the thought that they know where we go."

Nate drew in a sharp breath. "No," he agreed. "Perhaps—tonight, let's go somewhere different, and I'll leave my phone at the house. It could look a little suspicious, but it could equally be accidental."

"Honestly, I'd prefer their suspicions to the prospect of being interrupted when we're just about to—" I broke off. That had been a bit of an assumption.

"Yes," Nate agreed, and his eyes darkened as he looked at me. "Me too."

NATE

I knew I had my priorities all wrong. Feeding the Fortescues' suspicions just because I wanted sex with Alex was both stupid and irrational. But I was tired of being rational. I wanted Alex.

It appeared that he wanted me, too. Or at least, he wanted sex with me. I had to be careful not to confuse the two things.

"Shall we find a pub somewhere for lunch?" I asked him. I didn't feel like going back to the Fortescues' city yet.

He agreed, and we headed away from Bath into the countryside, where we discovered a riverside pub with a good line in local beers. After a lingering lunch, I had recovered my perspective. It was highly unlikely that James would have taken Steven into his confidence—Steven was neither astute nor discreet. Which meant that it had almost certainly been a coincidence.

Spending time with Alex had killed my last trace of anxiety. Something about Alex meant laughter was never far away. Especially when he laughed so hard that he snorted when the pub cat—impervious to the threat of dragons—swiped the last piece of beef from my plate.

Once we returned to Bath, we ambled around the city yet again rather than heading back to the Circus. We needed to kill time so that it would be dark when we reached the river, but I was growing increasingly impatient. I didn't want to wait any longer to get Alex naked.When I looked at him, I usually concentrated on his face and his eyes, because his laughter was like cocoa on a cold winter night. But every inch of him was gorgeous—his faded jeans showed off his arse and thighs, and his jumper clung to a chest that I now knew to be deliciously muscled.

The minutes crawled by as I watched him, cataloguing the way he'd occasionally moisten his lips, just a hint of tongue showing and rendering me almost helpless with need. But finally, it was time to head back to the Circus so we could give our apologies for supper and I could leave my phone behind.

Turning on the spot, perhaps a little too eagerly, to head up the hill, I spotted a camping goods' shop.

"Feeling a sudden need for a tent?" Alex asked, following me inside. When he saw what I pulled off the shelf, his sarcastic comments ceased.

"Headlights would attract attention, and I want to watch you while I suck you," I murmured to him as the cashier rang up the battery-powered lanterns and waterproof-backed rug.

"Oh, God," he said helplessly, his colour rising. "You had to say that, didn't you?"

I couldn't stop myself. My gaze ran slowly over his body, appreciating every part of him.

"See you outside," he said, turning to walk out of the shop. It appeared I wasn't the only one to have been frustrated by last night's forced cancellation.

This time, we left before pre-supper drinks. Leaving a little earlier also ensured we wouldn't get back too late. We'd apologised to Mr Taylor for disturbing him last time. His customary expression hadn't faltered as he'd informed us, "Sleep is for the weak."

My phone safely in my bedroom, I followed Alex's sat nav instructions to the alternative place we'd chosen. It wasn't as convenient—we had to climb over two fences, cross a field, and there was a definite smell of cow in the air—but none of that stopped the way my heart was racing as we neared the river. Closer to the moment when we'd be touching one another again. Anticipation was fizzing through me so fast I could scarcely breathe.