The car approached the house, pulling up to the impressive roundabout along the entryway. Fields and trees extended in every direction, making it seem like we were the only people in the known world.
“I can’t believe how beautiful it is…”
“Wait until you see the inside.” The car stopped, and the driver opened the back door for Crewe.
Crewe took my hand and helped me out, his hand moving to my waist once I was on my feet. I stared at the high walls and the walkways outside the castle. I felt like I had stepped back in time, into another world.
I ignored his hand on my waist as I took in the spectacular sight. I’d never seen anything like this in my life, and to witness it with a man descended from this history was even more remarkable. “Did you have to do any work on it?”
“A little. But for the most part, it held up pretty well.” Crewe eyed the remaining cars as they pulled into the driveway, the rest of his crew. His hand rested on top of my hips, his fingers around my waist.
“Why are you touching me like that?” I asked, looking up at him.
“So the men understand you aren’t available. Unless you want them to think you’re a whore up for grabs?” He dropped his hand from my waist and walked to join his men, leaving me behind.
I definitely didn’t want them to think that, but I would tell them that on my own—with my fist.
We approached the entrance to the castle, stopping in front of the two large wooden doors that were at least ten feet tall. We entered a historic entryway, showcasing a high-vaulted ceiling with one enormous fireplace against the back wall. The furniture was Victorian, matching the architecture of the castle. Two different staircases went in opposite directions, and the large rug on the floor was deep burgundy with a lion in the center.
“Where are we taking the girl’s stuff?” Dunbar asked, holding one of my bags.
“I have a name,” I hissed. “London—and you know that.”
He gave Crewe a suppressed glare, silently asking for permission to slap me.
“My quarters,” Crewe commanded.
“Uh, hold on.” I walked up to Crewe so we could have some form of privacy. “I’m not sleeping with you.”
“You think I’m gonna let you out of my sight?” Both of his eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t think so.”
I didn’t know what else to say, so I just repeated myself. “I’m not sleeping with you. You don’t even want me to sleep with you.”
He leaned his face toward mine, his lips just an inch away. “Maybe we won’t be sleeping.”
His chambers were from another time. The bed was larger than any king I’d ever seen, the fireplace was bigger than a 70-inch flat screen, and the wood of the dressers and furniture seemed to be refurbished, relics from the ancient castle.
While he worked downstairs with his men in one of the drawing rooms, I stayed in the bedroom, which had its own living room, private balcony, walk-in closet, fully-renovated bathroom, and another sitting room (for what, I couldn’t tell you). It was bigger than most houses.
I got goose bumps once I sat on the foot of the bed and wrapped my hand around the bed post. Was this the same bed frame that the last king had slept in? What else in this castle had lived more lifetimes than I would ever see? The historical significance shook me to the core, which was saying something because I never cared for history. But I could appreciate something that was two hundred years old.
I got ready for bed and changed into the baggiest shirt and the ugliest sweatpants I could find. All the clothes Crewe had gotten for me were girly and tight, way too sexy. So I put on his clothes instead. Hopefully, that would deter him from trying to seduce me. Even if he was an unofficial monarch of Scotland, rich, and handsome, I wasn’t sleeping with him again.
I was lying in bed, fully awake and looking out the window, when he walked inside. He quietly shut the door behind me like I might be asleep then undressed at the foot of the bed, removing his tie as well as the rest of his suit.
It must have been two in the morning, and it baffled me that he worked for so long. What did they talk about down there? How much intelligence could be discussed for so long? I hadn’t fallen asleep yet because I wanted to be awake when he returned. I knew I could trust him, to a certain extent, but I would feel more comfortable once he was in bed and asleep—not awake and stirring.
He pulled back the covers and got in beside me. He didn’t touch me, staying on his side of the bed. “Can’t sleep?”