“Hey, not so fast.” He dragged her back into his chest and positioned himself behind her again. “I’m not done listening. This is fascinating stuff. Tell me more. What about me exactly took your breath away? Hmm?”
“Everything...” She turned her head into the pillow, embarrassed.
“You like me, huh? You like the way I look?”
She nodded into the pillow. “The way you look, the way you speak, the way you move.”
“Dear God, you are a woman obsessed.” To say he wasn’t flattered would be a lie. But he was well aware of his good looks. It was all he had going as far as he was concerned and while he used his looks to get him through life, he was not about to believe her obsession was anything more than a passing crush. The classic story of a bookish mundane girl lusting after the bad goth boy. He’d been there done that enough times to write his own book about it.
“And you make me feel safe,” she squeaked out, giggling at herself. Why in the world was she laughing? She knew why. Because everything about the man and the situation made her giddy to the point where nothing else mattered.
At her admission, he rested his head on hers and gave into fits of laughter. It was now Crispin’s turn to blush. Crispin never blushed under any circumstances and that in itself gave him cause to wonder. “Go to sleep you cheeky monkey. We have lots to see in the morning.”
Chapter 14
Sitting in the communal breakfast room, Gwen glanced despondently out the window at the relentless rain. So much for well-laid plans, she thought with a sigh. The sound of Crispin drawing his chair back from the small table, stirred her from her musings. My, was he a sight first thing in the morning. He was all spruced up and ready to go, his long dark hair, wavy and flowing down his back. His face was flawless and smooth. He wore just a hint of charcoal eyeliner which highlighted his dove grey eyes in a most sublime manner. Yes, Crispin Clover was a vision, to be sure, but of all his notable attributes, Gwen loved his hands the best. Today, his manicured fingernails were devoid of polish. He wore black on black again in various layers of fitted body-skimming pieces.
They had woken up together but he had insisted she use the bathroom first while he picked out his wardrobe. It hadn’t taken her long to get ready. She had pre-planned all her ensembles to avoid last minute decision making. He, on the other hand, had gone through the entire contents of his suitcase. She’d actually had to vacate the room to stop herself from giggling at his fussing and preening. The man was quite particular, but the end result was ultimately worth it.
“What have you there?” he asked, studying her breakfast plate.
“Tea, toast with butter and jam. I would have waited for you but I was hungry.”
“And you’ll be hungry still if you don’t get yourself a proper breakfast.” He pointed at her plate again. Before she could respond, one of the two servers approached and with an indistinguishable accent took Crispin’s order. “Coffee for me, and we’ll both have the Full English Breakfast, please.”
Gwen waited until the lady retreated before protesting. “I hope you are hungry enough to eat both.”
“Nonsense, you’ll get through it,” he said, unbothered. “Besides, breakfast is included. Why not get the best bang for your buck? Also, here you are in England. Why not try something out of the ordinary, some local fair?”
“Do you realize what comes with an English Breakfast? I don’t normally eat a lot first thing in the morning.”
“Humour me.” He flashed her his most charming smile. He’d awoken in a splendid mood which surprised him. He was quite looking forward to his time here. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but he had a pretty good idea.
“Okay, fine,” she said with a smile of surrender.
“Good girl, now, what’s the plan for today? Where are we going first, tour guide?”
At his question, Gwen frowned and let out a sigh and looked as if the weight of the world were on her shoulders. Crispin quirked an eyebrow in response. He watched her for a moment, taking her in. Once again, her chestnut hair was haphazardly fastened back, the majority of it left loose, cascading over her shoulders. She wore a cream coloured turtleneck sweater which drew his helpless eyes to the tempting treasures lying beneath it. She wore dark blue jeans that hugged her shapely hips, and black ankle booties on her feet. No, she wasn’t exactly his type but she would do just fine. More than fine, actually. Just the memory of her warm little body pressed up against him last night had him adjusting himself in his chair.
“Well, I had planned on spending our first day visiting the many parks and gardens nearby. St. James’s Park and Buckingham Palace are within walking distance from here. Then I was hoping to head over to Hyde Park to see Kensington Palace. But with the rain, I don’t see the point.” She spoke with such finality in her voice.
“Go figure, rain in London?” Crispin teased. “What’s plan B?”
“Well, I don’t know now. I’ll have to rethink the whole thing.”
Before Crispin could respond, their breakfasts showed up and at his expression, she forgot her woes and started to laugh. Clearly, he had not expected so much food. Both plates were filled with fried eggs, two thick sausages, smoked bacon, fried mushrooms, baked beans, grilled tomatoes, and toast!
“Well, don’t just sit there.” He winked at her, enjoying the return of her smile. He then grabbed his knife and fork. “Get eating, cheeky monkey. We have sights to see.”
Following breakfast, they made a quick stop in their room to grab their coats. While it was warmer than it was in Canada, it was raining and the temperature was only supposed to reach a high of 8° Celsius.
“Gwen, what’s the matter?” he asked when she sat on the edge of the bed, her itinerary open on her lap. She was staring at it but he could tell she wasn’t focusing on any of it.
“I’m at a loss,” she admitted breathily, averting her eyes from him. “It’s all a jumbled mess. None of it makes sense. I’m sorry.”
“Is this you talking?” He sat down beside her and took the itinerary from her. “Or your anxiety?” Her notes were meticulous, and as far as he could see, they could simply swap tomorrow’s plan with today’s. This must be her fear of the unplanned and unrehearsed kicking in, he realized. The poor thing was a right mess for no reason at all.
Gwen shrugged unable to answer at that moment. If she did, she might just end up a blubbering mess at the unexpected empathy in his voice. He took a few minutes and flipped through the many pages. At his calm demeanour, she rested her head on his shoulder while he studied her notes. Weird as it may seem for someone who had wanted for so long to visit London, she would rather hide in their room all day.
After another minute, he closed the folder and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “No worries, Gwen. Come on, we have places to go, things to see.”
“Where, though?” She hesitated.
“Let me worry about where.” He encouraged her onto her feet. “Go on, grab your camera and your coat.”
At the confidence in his voice, Gwen’s mood lifted and she willingly put all her faith in him. Once again, thank goodness for Crispin, she thought with a sigh.
Chapter 15
Breathtaking… it was the only way to describe London’s National Art Gallery. So much history, so much talent, all under one roof. Both Gwen and Crispin were rendered speechless in the presence of works by Van Gogh, Caravaggio, Rubens and countless other European Masters from the 13th to the 19th centuries.
“Awesome, simply awesome…” was all Crispin could say while meandering from room to room. At his side, Gwen could only nod in agreement. The place was huge and filled with so many paintings, hours had gone by before they sat down for coffee in the gallery’s classy espresso bar.
“You okay?” Crispin asked, returning with their beverages to the small table.
“More than okay. I’m just overwhelmed by what we just saw.”
“Incredible, isn’t it?” he agreed. “Here, I assumed you’d want tea. Correct me if
I’m wrong.”
“Earl Grey, my favourite,” Gwen said with a smile of gratitude that went straight through to his heart. “Perfect, thanks.”
“It’s what you were drinking that first day we met in the café.”
“You remembered that small detail?”
“No detail too small,” Crispin said with a wink.
Gwen couldn’t contain her smile. To say Crispin was charming would be a huge understatement. They’d had such an awesome time so far. It wasn’t lost on her how they hadn’t said much to each other while in the gallery. They hadn’t needed words. Or rather words hadn’t been necessary.
“So many beautiful paintings in one place,” she said wistfully. “I can’t get over it.”
“Yes, and the day is only half over.” He checked his watch.
“I’m glad we came here today. Thanks for taking charge like that. Sometimes I lose focus.”
At her choice of words, Crispin leaned forward in his chair, gazed into her eyes and quirked a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “No worries, taking charge is my specialty.”
Gwen couldn’t say why his phrasing had her squirming in her seat but then again everything about the man turned her insides to jelly.
“How do you feel about that?”
“I… I quite like the sound of that.” She giggled playfully.
He smiled wickedly in response. “Keep that up and I might just have to take you back to the inn.” He reached across the table and took her hand before adding, “…lock you up.” He scraped his teeth across his bottom lip. Holding her gaze, he traced lazy circles into her palm with his fingers.
At his intimate touch, she felt her cheeks flush and an undeniable heat coursed through her veins from her heart to her core. “Is that a threat or a promise?” she teased him, playing it cool although she hadn’t missed the predatory gleam in his eyes.
“Quite playful, aren’t you? I like that.” He gave her hand a squeeze before letting it go. “Go on, drink your tea. We’ve got plenty more to do and see.” At that moment, he couldn’t care less about sightseeing. He’d much rather take her back to the inn and test his theory, especially since she seemed quite willing. Yet he knew it would be unfair. He’d be taking advantage of her infatuation with him. They’d end up spending their entire time locked up in the bedroom. They would miss all the sights and he couldn’t do that to her. Just seeing her eyes light up as the entered the gallery that morning told him how much this trip meant to her. Besides, there would be plenty of time for fooling around later. Maybe that very night.
***
It had stopped raining by the time they left the gallery. Hand in hand, they made their way out, taking a walk around the crazy intersection of Trafalgar Square. Gwen hadn’t even had the chance to ask where-to-next before Crispin tightened his grip on her hand and ran for the double decker bus that would take them along the Strand. Still laughing at the expression on her face, Crispin slid into his seat first and caught her as she fell into him when the bus lurched and started off.
“Crispin, my heart’s practically in my throat!” she gasped, catching her breath.
“You wanted adventure, you’re getting it, aren’t you?” he teased, wrapping his arm around her.
“And then some.” She smiled, resting her head on his shoulder, nose in his hair, hand on his chest. They sat like that for a little while and then suddenly he straightened up and pulled away. Gwen took the hint and sat up in her seat. He had turned quiet and pensive and she hadn’t missed that either. While his reaction was less abrupt than when she had clung to him the night before, it was similar enough for her to wonder why he went from hot to cold when she held him. He had put his arm around her, and he had taken her hand more than once already that day. Yet the moment she reciprocated the affection, he would pull away.
Before long, she put it out of her mind. Taking in the view from the bus as they weaved through the streets was quite the experience. “I can’t believe I’m seeing all this.” The architecture was awe inspiring and the streets themselves were so alive with activity.
“It’s different, that’s for sure,” Crispin said it about the scenery but he meant it about the turmoil stirring in his gut. Something in the way she clung to him scared the hell out of him and he wasn’t quite sure how to handle it.
“It’s like watching a motion picture or visiting a movie set but in this case, it’s the real thing,” Gwen gushed. “And the real thing is incredible. I’m sorry, I’m babbling but it’s hard to convey the right words.”
“Don’t apologize for your enthusiasm. Babble on, if it makes you happy.”
“You make me happy,” she blurted, catching them both off guard. She hoped he wouldn’t take offence to her exuberance as he did her touch, but she was so grateful for his company, she couldn’t help herself. When he smiled sideways at her, she was glad her words were easier for him to accept.
“Cheeky monkey.” He chuckled and wrapped his arm around her again. Not wanting him to draw away from her, she kept her hands on her lap and simply accepted his embrace.
They soon arrived at their intended stop and Crispin held tightly to Gwen’s hand as they exited the bus. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head when she spotted the majestic dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral.
“You okay?” Crispin asked, seeing the look of awe on her face. When she smiled at him, he felt his defensive inner walls begin to crumble yet again. Letting his guard down for the moment, he allowed her to cling tenaciously to his hand.
“Oh, my God, Crispin! I can’t believe I’m here. I can’t believe I’m seeing this.”
“Come on, let’s grab something to eat before we go in.” Crispin chuckled when she followed him blindly, still looking over her shoulder at the remarkable centuries-old cathedral. Her enthusiasm was contagious, to say the least. As much as he would like to be indifferent, he couldn’t, not when she made everything so wonderfully awe inspiring.
After grabbing sandwiches and juice from the handy Marks and Spencer, Crispin led her to the steps in front of St. Paul’s. Like others around them, they sat and ate while taking in the gorgeous view. They took turns taking pictures with Gwen’s camera and, of course, a few selfies. Crispin’s long arms came in handy for those. She was quite pleased he had initiated the shots of them together here and there. Now and again, passing couples like themselves would swap cameras to take pictures of each other.
After visiting the Cathedral, they walked towards the River Thames and crossed the pedestrian-only steel suspension Millennium Bridge. Somewhere in the middle, they stopped to have a look around.
“Are you glad you came, Crispin?” she asked, watching him.
“Yeah, I am,” he said with a wistful smile.
“You’re not still upset at me for tagging along?”
“Upset… I was never upset with you.” He chuckled and gave his head a small shake. “I was furious.”
“Are you still furious?”
He looked at her and smirked. “Nah, turns out, I quite like your company.” He took her hand and started walking again.
“I’m glad because I love your company.” Gwen practically skipped as she walked. This was turning out to be the best trip ever. Better than she could have ever imagined.
“Don’t be so sure of that,” Crispin said, clipping her thoughts short. “You may change your mind soon enough.”
She searched his handsome yet guarded profile for a clue as to what he was getting at. “Not possible,” she assured him.
He then tightened his grip on her fingers, almost painfully so. “Everyone says that at first,” he gritted out before he abruptly dropped her hand and started walking on ahead. So quick and purposeful were his steps, Gwen had to practically run to catch up.
There it was again, Gwen thought with a frown. He had switched from hot to cold. She didn’t know why but she suddenly recalled the day in the jewellery shop. His friend Becky had referred to him as her prickly Goth. Gwen couldn’t agree more with that nickname. T
he title suited him perfectly. After reaching the other side, he once again slowed and allowed her to reach his side. When she’d caught up, she caught her breath, and then she lost it again at the sight of Shakespeare’s Globe theatre.
“Wow!” Gwen clapped with glee, momentarily forgetting her woes.
“Wow, indeed,” Crispin grumbled, watching her run up ahead.
Chapter 16
Following an impromptu tour of Shakespeare’s Globe theatre, Gwen and Crispin resumed walking alongside the River Thames. While Crispin remained rather quiet and pensive, Gwen couldn’t keep from talking. In fact, she was babbling quite happily about anything and everything they had seen so far and how much she was looking forward to seeing more during their trip. She was so distracted that she hadn’t noticed how dark it had gotten. By the time they passed London’s impressive city hall and reached the magnificently lit up sight of Tower Bridge, it was pitch black out.
“Everything okay, Crispin?” she asked, having stopped talking long enough to feel self-conscious of her ramblings. Perhaps her nattering was getting on his nerves, she wondered. This was so unlike her. She was usually so quiet and withdrawn. Rarely did she feel comfortable enough to speak to people, let alone go on and on. At least, he hadn’t let go of her hand the entire time they had walked. That in itself gave her hope that he hadn’t minded her constant chatter. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’ll be quiet now.”
He tilted his head in her direction and chuckled. She sensed his eyes on her and she smiled to herself. For a moment there was silence but for the sound of their footsteps on the pavement. Giving her hand a squeeze, he led her toward the river’s edge until they stood against the rail. He stood behind her and caged her within his arms, facing the water. They stood there for an unmarked stretch of time without speaking, simply taking in the sights. They watched a few river buses and boats pass. Across from them was the infamous Tower of London which is best known for its use as a prison back in the day.
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