Dating Mr. Darcy - Kate O'Keeffe Page 0,67
a glass of Châteauneuf-du-Pape.”
I giggle and it ends in a snort. “All I got out of that was fancy French wine from some château.”
He removes the cork with a corkscrew he produces from his pocket, and pours us a couple of glasses. “It’s from a beautiful region in the Rhône, near Avignon. But that’s not why I like it. It’s a superb red.” He hands me a glass. “My father was very fond of it, as was his father. I imagine you could say it’s in the Huntington-Ross blood.”
“I think Budweiser’s in the Brady blood,” I reply with a self-deprecating chortle. “Or maybe moonshine, back in the day.”
“That sounds like a story.”
“Believe me, it’s not. We Bradys are regular folk. Nothing special.”
“I would have to beg to differ.” He lifts his glass. “To the intriguing Miss Brady.”
“Dude, I might not be all classy like you, but I do know I can’t drink to myself.”
“In that case, here’s to Mrs. Watson. Long may she wear that deeply attractive handkerchief on her head.”
I let out a laugh as warmth spreads through me. “I’m sure it’s a shower cap.”
“To Mrs. Watson’s shower cap, then.”
I clink my glass against his. “I would never have guessed you’d have a good sense of humor, Mr. Darcy.”
“I have hidden talents, don’t you know,” he replies.
“I’ve just been finding out about some of those.”
He pulls me in for another head-spinning kiss.
I take a sip of my wine. “Holy crap, that’s good,” I say before I remember that I’m sitting on a sofa that’s probably older than my great grandmother, in a room that was “extensively renovated by the late Victorians,” with an aristocrat at my side. A hot one, but an aristocrat all the same.
He grins at me. “I’m glad you like it.”
I take another sip. “It’s even better than Bud,” I declare with a laugh.
“High praise indeed.”
Our gazes lock and we grin at one another. Can anything beat this moment? The moment when you’ve both admitted to having feelings for one another after not knowing if the other felt the same? The moment when you realize the object of your desire wants you back?
“I didn’t expect you, Sebastian Huntington-Ross,” I say. “I thought you were pompous and self-interested, and only came on this show to stroke your already massive ego. Either that or you were a total nut job, expecting to find love on reality TV. But you’re not like that at all.”
“I’m not pompous, self-interested, or deluded? Emma, you are so good at flirting. You should write a book.”
“I do try to make you feel special.”
He laughs. “You’ve made me feel a lot of things since you came on the show.”
“Angry, annoyed, unvalued?” I offer.
“Don’t forget frustrated and irritated.”
I spread my hands out to my sides. “My work here is done.”
He takes one of my hands in his. His tone is more serious when he says, “I hope not. In fact, I hope you might agree to stay. Not just for your label.”
My breath catches in my throat. “You want me to stay?”
He bites his lip, his eyes glowing warm gold. “I can ask that you be allowed to wear your label on camera again, of course, but, Emma, I want you to stay for more than that. I want you to stay for me.”
“I—” I break off. I look down at my hand in his. “Seb, I didn’t come here to look for someone.”
“I know,” he replies softly.
I lift my eyes to his. I open my mouth to speak, but I can’t find the words. I cannot deny I’ve got feelings for him, but I also know that this could never work. Different worlds, different lives, not to mention the fact we’re in this weird land of reality TV that distorts everything.
“Emma, before you answer, I need you to know I feel something for you. Something I don’t feel for anyone else. Something I didn’t expect in a million years to feel on this show. You came along and changed all that.” As he looks at me, there’s a vulnerability in his eyes I’ve not seen before.
“But you came on this show to find love. You told me that on the first night.”
He takes another sip of his wine and stares at the empty fireplace. After what begins to grow into an uncomfortable silence between us, he tilts his head to face me once more. “I agreed to do the show because Martinston is under threat. The Huntington-Rosses may have a long line of notable