comfortable for walking.”
“Right.”
“I guess I’m nervous about the flight tomorrow.”
I’m eager to get away from her so I can get on with my clandestine activity, so I say, “You’ll be fine. We can sit together.”
She smiles at me. “That would be nice.”
“Well, enjoy your walk.”
“You, too,” she replies before she takes off down the hall as though her pants are on fire.
I watch her leave and am once again alone in the darkened hallway. What was she doing here? There was no way she was going for a walk. I chew on my lip as a fresh thought fills my brain. Had she been to see Sebastian? I didn’t think any of the other contestants had a clue where he slept. But then, maybe I’m totally naïve and he’s been seeing contestants in his room all this time.
Despite knowing that rationally it shouldn’t matter to me even if he has, my belly sinks to the floor. I know this is a dating show. He’s got his choice of eager women, and he’s here to fall in love. At the end of this show he’s got to name his “Mrs. Darcy” and propose.
I need to shake it off. Sure, I’ve started feeling things for him that I wish I didn’t have, but I’m not here for him. I’m here for my label.
But lately, I find I’ve got to keep reminding myself of that.
Things are beginning to get complicated.
I press on down the hallway, moving as swiftly and quietly as I can. I knock lightly on his door and wait. A moment later, I’m met with Sebastian in a white T-shirt and pair of jeans.
His face lights up as his eyes land on mine. “Brady Bunch,” he says with his sexy accent.
“Hey.” I feel like a goofy teenager meeting a boy she’s got a crush on.
He pulls the door open and stands back for me to enter.
As I do, I round on him, those crush feelings replaced with something else. “Tell me something straight up, okay?” I raise my index finger in warning. “And you cannot lie to me.”
He darts me a quizzical look. “When have I ever lied to you?”
“Umm, maybe by not dropping the hint we’re going to England today when we went for a horse ride?”
“We had cameras on us. Plus, I didn’t want you to appear like you knew about it already when they filmed everyone’s reaction. As it turned out, you looked like a stunned mullet.”
“It came as a bit of a shock, that’s all.”
“A good shock, I hope?”
“When is a shock ever good, Seb?”
His face falls. “Are you saying you don’t want to go?”
“I didn’t expect it, that’s all.”
“Well, I for one am glad you’re coming. I would love to show you Martinston.”
“What’s Martinston?” I ask. I glance down at his jeans and my eyes bulge. No, he couldn’t be that guy! He might be getting a bit flirty, but he’s not the type. Is he?
“Martinston isn’t the name for your—” I nod at the crotch of his jeans.
“What? No!”
“Oh, thank goodness,” I say with a rush of relief.
I am not a fan of guys naming their appendages. I should have known a pompous British aristocrat wouldn’t name his. Well, not something like “Martinston,” anyway. More like “Little Sebastian,” or “Lord Wiener.” Oh, please stop me now.
“So exactly what is Martinston?” I ask.
“It’s my family’s home. They’re calling it ‘Pemberley’ on the show because of the book, of course, but that’s not its real name. Martinston has been in our family for generations. It’s really special to me.”
That’s why his smile flipped to genuine when he told the contestants about it. My heart squeezes at the thought he wants to show me his home—and the fact he’s not the type to name his err, manhood, either.
“I’d like to see your home, Seb.”
“I’m glad.” His eyes lock with mine and I wonder what it was that I hated about him so much. He’s a good guy. Sure, he’s still a total douche to choose to go on a reality TV show to find love, but none of us are perfect. Right?
“I hope you’ll like it.”
“It’s a castle, Seb. I’m sure I’ll love it.”
“Not a castle.”
“Sorry. My bad.” I raise my hands in surrender. “A manor house. So different from a castle.”
He opens his mouth to reply but seems to think better of it. Instead, he says, “What was it you wanted me to answer honestly?”
“I saw Phoebe in the hallway on the way here. She seemed flustered.