Love Language (The Aristocrat Diaries 1)

“Miles, you tried to float your Land Rover through a miniature lake. Ducks would get lost out there.”

“That’s a slight exaggeration, don’t you think?”

“The floating or the miniature lake thing?”

“Both.”

She shrugged. “It looked fairly accurate from where I was winching your car out in torrential rain.”

Right at that moment, a series of huge bangs rattled the windows, making us both jump.

“It’s hail,” I said. “I guess it’s getting worse.”

“Mm. Things usually do before they get better,” she replied with a pessimistic sigh. “Is it bad that I forgot about the wind and rain because I’m now so used to it?”

“No. If we had power, I’d have probably forgotten about the storm all together.” Mostly. There was no other reason I’d be sitting here, after all. “I hope it doesn’t last much longer.”

“Hm. It will.” She peered into her teacup. “You really don’t want to be here, do you?”

I sighed and set my cup down with a clink. “Gabriella…”

“No, it’s fine. It’s none of my business. Forget I mentioned it.” She put down her tea and undid her plait, letting her damp, wavy hair fall about her shoulders. Her dark hair was thick, and as it settled into place, it formed a protective curtain on the side of her face. She reached for her book, flipping it over so she could continue reading, with her hair obstructing my view of her face.

I watched her for a moment. When she didn’t look back at me, it hit me.

I’d hurt her feelings.

Shit.

I didn’t want to do that. I wasn’t a monster.

“My grandfather lives in the village,” I said quietly after a moment. “He’s one of the reasons I moved here. I was struggling to save enough money to buy a place close enough to work where it wouldn’t take me three hours of driving to get there.”

Honestly, London prices were no joke. It was a miracle I’d saved any money at all, and the only reason I had was because of a house share.

“Property here was a lot cheaper. Grandpa needs a hip replacement, so he helped me get set up with some of his savings. And the old sofa from his garage that’s seen far too many days.”

She tilted her head towards me, and I swore I saw her lips twitch.

“Everything here with the house and this job lined up. But it’s just us and his cat, Mars. I need to get back to him to make sure he’s okay. If there’s flooding, I don’t know if he can get out.”

Gabriella closed the book and put it on the sofa next to her, then turned to face me. “Where does he live?”

“Why?”

“I know this village like the back of my hand, plus I know everyone. If he lives in an area that floods, chances are I know someone who can get him out.”

“Do you know anyone with a boat?”

She raised her eyebrows.

“Stupid question,” I muttered. “He lives a few houses down from me on Bramble Lane.”

Her brow furrowed for a moment. “Which end? The one near the park or the one near the Fox and Hound?”

“Fox and Hound end,” I replied, referring to the hotel whose property our end of Bramble Lane backed onto.

She shook her head. “You’ll be fine. It can be a bit dicey down by the park, depending on whether the river bursts its banks, but it was low before this storm so even they’re probably fine. I can’t ever remember your end flooding, though.”

A flicker of relief sparked in me. “Are you sure?”

“Do you want me to see if someone can check in on him? My best friends’ parents own the hotel, and I’m sure either Adelaide, Eva, or their father won’t mind running down.”

My stomach tightened. “You would do that?”

Confusion flashed in her eyes, and she tilted her head to the side. “Of course. If you’re worried, one of them will go and make sure he has everything he needs and make sure the cat is fed.”

CHAPTER TEN – GABRIELLA

I’d never seen a man look quite as perplexed as Miles did right now.

Actually, that was a lie. Men tended to look this confused while attempting to find a woman’s g-spot, but that wasn’t the point here.

“You look as though I’ve just presented you with a sudoku book written in Chinese Mandarin,” I quipped, trying to lighten the heavy mood. “What’s wrong?”

He tilted his head. “Why would you do that? For me?”

Ah.

Here we go.

I clasped my hands in my lap and looked down at them. A churning feeling turned my stomach, and I swallowed the lump of emotion that was lodging in my throat. I wasn’t one for confrontation. In fact, I steadfastly avoided it. It made me all kinds of uncomfortable to the point my eyes itched like I had hay fever.

Yet, here I was.

About to tackle confrontation head on.