With those eyes of blue-grey, she implored him while biting her quivery bottom lip. “Oh, no, we’ll have none of that business. It will not work on me.” He immediately placed his right index finger overtop her lip. “Explain yourself, young miss.”
“Please… I know you have every right to be upset…”
“Upset?” He chuckled but the humour did not reach his eyes. “Try furious. Perhaps angry, and, oh, what the hell, let’s go all out and add pissed off to the mix.” As he spat the words, he happened to glance at her hand beneath his. On her wrist was that blasted bracelet she loved so much. He ran his thumb over it, feeling the soft warmth of her skin underneath. For a second, he forgot where he was and took a deep calming breath.
“I’m sorry. I’ve got no excuse really.” She paused, searching his face for a trace of empathy. Finding none, she forced herself to continue. “When you left the café with my itinerary, I simply couldn’t let it happen that way. I’ve wanted this for so long but I was scared to go on my own.”
“So, you took it upon yourself to impose your presence on my trip, even after I flat out refused your initial preposterous offer to come with me?” he asked with a scowl.
She nodded and shrugged guiltily. “I thought if I went with you, we could help each other.”
“Oh, really? And how would you be helping me?” He quirked a perfectly plucked eyebrow before continuing, “You set me up, didn’t you? You sent me over to your friend’s travel agency and had her book you on the same flight. Are you some kind of stalker?”
“No, please, that’s not it at all. I mean, I’m not a stalker. How could I be? I don’t know anything about you really. I was just hoping to tag along. So I wouldn’t be alone. I won’t be any trouble. I promise.”
Where had he heard that before? He gave his head a quick shake and focused on the present. “You say you were scared to travel on your own, yet you set this entire thing up, showed up on this plane… Oh, wait, now I get it. We were to sit together, weren’t we?”
“Yes, it’s all true. I had Stacy book our seats together but then something went wrong. Suddenly you weren’t there and I couldn’t… I mean, that man, he wanted the aisle seat and there’s no way I could sit at the window.”
“So, exactly what are we doing here? What is the plan? Are we merely flying there together or am I stuck with you the entire time?” When she averted her gaze and didn’t answer, he rolled his eyes and scowled all the more. “Perfect. Just perfect.” How the hell did this happen and why? All he wanted was some time alone, to get away by himself. Suddenly, the entire point of this trip was lost.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, peeking up at him.
“Not as sorry as I am.”
Gwen watched him breathe. He had turned his face forward, his eyes closed. His brow was furrowed. His jaw tense. Still, he was breathtaking in his anger, his wavy dark hair framing it all in Victorian Gothy splendour. All she could hope for now was that he not hate her, not hold her hijacking of his trip against her forever. Worse yet, she realized, he could simply abandon her when they reached Heathrow. He could very easily rearrange his bookings if he should want to. Once again, a new terror gripped her heart and they had only just left Toronto. How in the world would she get through the rest of this trip on her own?
Chapter 6
“Tell me something,” he said, turning to face her once again. If he wasn’t so angry, he might even admit being a tiny bit thrilled with this turn of events. Had he not moments ago been regretting not taking her up on her offer to come along? Surely, he could find a way for them both to benefit from such an arrangement as this. With her dark chestnut hair, creamy complexion and blue-grey eyes, she was quite lovely in an understated way. It wouldn’t be such a bitter pill to swallow, having her face to gaze upon for the next little while. With her hand still in his, he gave her fingers a subtle squeeze, grazing his thumb over her knuckles. “Why are you so sure you’ll be safe with me?”
After a moment’s pause, she gazed into his eyes and said in a breathy whisper, “There’s just something about you… I trust.”
“Really?” He quirked a skeptical eyebrow. “Trust should be earned, not so easily gained or in your case, given.”
Gwen nodded, smiled thoughtfully and looked away before returning her eyes to his. “Well, I figured you must be a good person since that day with your friend Becky, the girl you were with at the Jewellery shop, you were so sweet to her.”
“Good person… sweet?” he repeated with a frown. “I don’t recall being sweet at all.”
“Well, you were. As uncomfortable as you seemed. Oh, what did she call you? That’s right, she called you her sweet prickly Goth!” Gwen said with a giggle. “At first, I thought the two of you were a couple but then I realized you were just very good friends. That made the entire thing all the sweeter, her wanting to help you pick out a gift.”
At her repeated use of that ridiculous term, Crispin rolled his eyes and scowled. “I swear, if you say that word one more time, I might just jump off this plane.”
“Sorry.” Gwen bit her lip, trying not to smile at his distaste for such a silly thing as a word.
“Again, not as sorry as I am,” he said, sitting up straight in his seat. After a deep calming breath, he let go of her hand. He then reached into the pocket in the seat in front of him and grabbed a notebook, and a pen, and placed it on the fold-out table. “Well, we’re on here for the next eight hours. I’m not much for small talk and I’d appreciate a little silence while I try and somehow make peace with this situation I find myself in.”
At his words, Gwen couldn’t help but feel bad once again for imposing herself on his trip. Not knowing what to do with herself, she folded her hands on her lap and sighed. Would it help her cause to explain her true reason for tagging along? Maybe, but at the same time, she was reluctant to tell him of her issues with anxiety. If anything, he’d think she was weirder than he already did, or he would feel sorry for her. Both scenarios did not sit right with her. All she did know was that she was missing the feel of his hand around hers. She wanted more than anything to reach for him once again but he was busy writing and she didn’t want to be more of a nuisance than she already was. With a nervous intake of breath, she let out another sigh.
Focusing on his lyrics, Crispin tried unsuccessfully to ignore the misery at his side. Yet another reason to be angry with this turn of events. You see, if he were a heartless bastard, he would simply shut her out and make the most of his time. But he was not that, even if he wished he were. He could easily put her at ease with a kind word or gesture, of that he was well aware. Yet his defensive nature refused to allow him to let his guard down. Unable to deal with his inner turmoil, he closed his songbook with the pen inside and slipped in back into the chair pocket. He unbuckled his seatbelt and made to stand, cursing the cramped seats.
“If you don’t mind?” He watched and waited for her to unclasp her seatbelt and stand, albeit on very shaky legs. Every move she made was with great effort not to panic. He could tell by the trepidation on her face. As he squeezed by, he felt the need to brace her with his hand on the small of her back. Her warmth reached his hand and he stilled for a moment.
After an awkward few seconds, she stepped into the aisle to allow him to get out. Brushing himself off, he made his way towards the facilities. He stopped mid-step at the tug on his sleeve and looked over his shoulder.
“Are you kidding me?” He frowned, glaring at her shaky little hand on his elbow.
Ignoring his glare, she confessed, “Well, I just thought I might as well come with you if you don’t mind.”
“Mind?” he repeated with a shake of his head. So this is what he would have to expect the entire trip? What exactly was her problem? Then in a fleeting moment of regret, he realized it must be her fear of flying again. Straightening up, he simply nodded and allowed her to squeeze by him. Once again, he braced her, steadying her with a hand at her back. When she smiled her thanks, he frowned a
t the little leap of his heart. She needed him near. She felt safe with him. What an odd concept for one such as himself.
With a couple of people ahead of them, they waited, leaning against the tight corridor wall. When she kept inching back up into him, Crispin placed a hand on her hip and gave her a squeeze. Before he realized what he was doing, he had his nose in her hair, unwittingly inhaling her soft scent. Perhaps this wasn’t such a bad thing, he thought again, as he leaned in and whispered in her ear, “I could come in with you if you’re nervous.”
“Into the bathroom?” Gwen repeated breathily, leaning back as though in a trance. With his hand travelling higher up her waist, securing her to him, it almost made her forget her recent concerns.
“Yeah, if you’re nervous about going in alone. Think about it. We could join the Mile High Club. As it is, we could make the most of this trip.”
He almost had her until that last sentence. He was toying with her, that must be it. He was still angry at her for following him and now he was just being rude, she quickly surmised. Suddenly, she wasn’t so sure of him. The moment the bathroom was vacant, she pulled away and stiffly made her way in, shutting the door in his face.
“That’s okay,” Crispin muttered, inwardly kicking himself. “I’m not much into joining clubs, anyway.”
***
When Crispin returned, he found Gwen already in her seat. He could tell she was avoiding eye contact with him. Probably due to his ridiculous proposition. He couldn’t blame her for being upset. Even he couldn’t quite understand what had come over him. Nevertheless, it was for the best. He had put it out there either way. At least, now he knew she wasn’t looking for a fling. Too bad, really, he thought with a frown. That might have made this fiasco of a trip worthwhile.
“Let me get out of your way,” she offered, attempting to stand.
“Too late for that, isn’t it?” he snarked, recalling a similar conversation with Becky. What was it about him and clingy females all of a sudden? He found the concept quite unsettling and unnerving, yet oddly appealing. Strange… Before she could stand to let him by, he stilled her with his hand on her shoulder. “Give me your coat.”
“My coat?”
He held out his hand. “We’ve got an eight-hour flight ahead of us. Might as well get comfortable.”
She did as she was asked which actually surprised her. Why did she so easily comply with his suggestion? Maybe because she didn’t want to anger him further. Taking her coat, he tucked it in the overhead compartment. He then shrugged off his long dark coat and placed it in there as well. Then as an afterthought, he rummaged around and drew out a folder before shutting it closed.
He then looked at her and then at the window seat and an idea struck him. Actually, it was more of an inspiration. Something about this girl compelled him to assert himself. He leaned in real close. “Right, you’ve had time to acclimate. Do me a favour and scoot over.” She looked from him to the empty chair beside her unsure of his meaning. “I said, move over.”
“But why?” She blinked nervously from him to the window seat. She would be trapped in that small space. Yet suddenly, she realized, being trapped by him wasn’t such a bad thing. In fact, the thought of it sat quite well with her.
“Trust me. You’ll be fine. Besides, you’re smaller than I am. Shorter legs and all.” He gave her the once over, unable to contain his smile at the ire in her eyes. “Promise, I’ll keep you safe.”
With measured trepidation, Gwen once again, did what she was asked. When he sat down beside her, he turned to her and smiled. “Relax, sweetheart. You and I are going to get along famously.”
“You’re not mad at me anymore?”
“Oh, I’m furious,” he said pensively. “Just a tad less.” He then plunked the folder on her lap.
“My itinerary!” She clapped with glee.
“I figured since you’re here, I might as well make the most of your company. You want to play tour guide? Let’s rock it. I love roleplaying games.”
Gwen blushed profusely at his suggestive phrasing and stared down at her lap. Quirking an eyebrow at her adorable reaction, he placed a finger under her chin and drew her attention back to him for a moment. Perhaps, he’d been looking at this the wrong way. She might not be into having a fling but he had a feeling, she’d be up for a sweet calculated seduction of the Crispin variety. Oh, yes, now that he could deal with. Just as long as he kept the upper hand and not let himself get too close. Resolved to the task, he then winked at her before reaching for his notebook in the pocket in front of her chair.
“Right then, get to work on that.” He tapped the folder with his pen. “While I work on this.”
Chapter 7
After having gone over her itinerary as if reacquainting herself with an old friend, Gwen shuffled it around, placing the page which included getting to the airport and onto the plane to the back of the folder, so that the first page was now the very next stage of the trip. She re-read that part over again, committing it to memory. This would be a true test of her courage. Getting from the airport to the Lemon Tree Inn where they were to stay the first few nights of their trip was definitely going to be interesting, to say the least. A huge part of her wished she had taken Stacy’s advice to get a taxi or a shuttle, but a bigger part of her wanted to experience the real London. And what better way to do that than take the underground transit system known as The Tube?
At least, she could take comfort in the fact that Crispin wasn’t planning on abandoning her the moment they landed in Heathrow. At first, he’d seemed quite upset with her and rightly so, but he’d made it clear he was looking forward to having her play tour guide. Now as long as everything went to plan, she was pretty sure she could look after that part of the deal. Besides all that, she was very much in love with the idea of spending her time in England with such an impressive character as Crispin.
Watching from the corner of her eye, she could see him writing in his notebook or rather a songbook, she guessed, by the way he would write then tap out a few notes with his pen. At such close range, she couldn’t help but notice his beautiful hands. His fingers were long and elegant, his manicured nails painted shiny black. He wore all black. A crisp black shirt, a tailored vest overtop with a subtle black on black jacquard pattern. He was long and lean of limb, his wavy dark hair flowed midway down his chest. He smelled wonderful too. Every once in a while when she turned her nose just so, his cool, citrusy masculine scent invaded her lungs.
In every way, so far, he was everything she had ever wanted. She couldn’t even fault his abrasiveness since he’d had every right to be upset with her. And to be honest, she quite liked his standoffishness.
Yes, indeed, he very much reminded her of a character from her books. In fact, she imagined he was exactly that. And what could be more exciting than a trip to England with her real life fictional book boyfriend?
Then, of course, there was no denying the physical attraction between them. At least, for her, anyway. When he had suggested they join the Mile High Club earlier, she was quite taken aback. But only because she had believed he was being rude at the time. Yet, since returning to her seat, she had thought of little else. The idea had her quite titillated, to be honest, and to have him in such close proximity was proving to be a seriously intoxicating experience. Plus, the endorphins released from all the excitement of her trip so far had her on the edge of wanting to do things she wasn’t quite sure she should be contemplating, especially with a man she hardly knew.
For this reason alone, she had to keep reminding herself that he was not a character from a book but a very real man. But for now, while they still had hours to go on the flight, Gwen rested her head back, taking comfort in his presence. With the warmth radiating from his nearness, she closed her eyes and let her imagination run wild.
***
Oddly enough, Crispin had lost himself in his latest song. He wouldn’t have thought it possible to concentrate with all the sounds and distractions around him b
ut the opposite was true. In fact, he hadn’t been this inspired since before Christmas.
He knew why he’d been unable to write. He’d been too preoccupied with the goings on around the House of Goths. Then there was his failed relationship with Gracie. His pathetic existence had left him listless and rather depressed. He hadn’t been able to write a single lyric that hadn’t made him want to throw himself off the nearest bridge.
Yet suddenly he was overwhelmed with inspiration and he wasn’t quite sure where it was coming from. They hadn’t even left Canadian airspace, or had they? How long had they been flying? Checking his watch, he realized it had been three hours already. In fact, the flight attendants were now making their way through the aisles with the food carts.
At his side, Gwen was fast asleep, her head resting against the window. She was exhausted and it was no wonder, thought Crispin. She’d been a bag of nerves earlier. Look at her, clinging to that precious folder as if it were a lifeline.
For whatever reason, he felt the need to take it from her hands. Without waking her, he gently took it and tucked it in the pocket in front of her with her book. Curious, he tugged at the book and smiled when reading the title. Wuthering Heights. Quite befitting of her, really. She did have that bookish quality about her. A quality he found rather irresistible which surprised him. He had never been into the bookish librarian types before. This was completely new and interesting, to say the least.
Seconds later, he sat back in his seat and frowned at the direction his mind was going. Resting his head in his hand, he inwardly chastised himself. He was his own worst enemy and he knew it. Whatever this was, this attraction he was feeling, it had to stop. Or at least, he had to keep it in check. Clearly, he was doing it again, unwillingly forming a bond with yet another person who would only end up disappointing him.
Belonging Page 4
