Tell Me You're Mine (The British Billionaires #1) - J. S. Scott Page 0,69
her a good time,” Leo suggested jovially. “If you run out of things to do, you could always fly her to Lundy Island. Nicole would love diving with the seals there. The currents are a little tricky on the deeper dives, but she’s an experienced diver.”
“Is it dangerous?” I asked hoarsely. I wasn’t about to send her into dangerous waters in the middle of the Bristol Channel.
Leo shook his head. “Not really. Not for somebody like Nicole. She does tough, deep dives on a regular basis.”
I shook my head. I’d probably die of a heart attack while I was waiting for her to surface. “Maybe later. After I get myself certified so I can go with her.”
“I’m at your service,” Leo said amiably.
“We’ll set something up,” I told him. “In the meantime, I want to get on the road to London.”
I stood up and dropped my napkin onto my plate.
“I doubt it will take much to make her fall in love with you,” my mother called after my departing figure. “I think she’s already halfway there.”
Mum’s words didn’t exactly comfort me, even if her presumption was correct.
Halfway still left a lot of ground to cover, and I was finally ready to admit that I’d crossed that finish line a long time ago.
Not only had I completed that race, but I’d kept driving myself directly into insanity long after I’d seen that checkered flag.
CHAPTER 23
Nicole
DAMIAN’S “PLACE IN London” turned out to be a Mayfair mansion that was almost too crazy to be believable.
If I wasn’t currently standing on the second subterranean level of his home, which housed his indoor pool and spa, I probably wouldn’t have been able to grasp the concept of three levels underground, and two above.
However, some talented engineer had made it happen, and I was standing right in the middle of the three underground levels, so I knew a home like this existed.
I just wasn’t quite sure how I’d managed to become a guest here.
Beneath us was an entertainment space with a home theater, and above was Damian’s gigantic home gym.
Above ground, there were two master suites on the first level, and several more upstairs.
After we’d arrived in London yesterday, I hadn’t had much time to explore his extraordinary home. Damian had taken his duties of tour guide seriously, and he’d covered a lot of ground.
We’d gone to the Tower of London, since I hadn’t seen much of it the first time I’d visited, and then strolled on to the Tower Bridge. Damian had taken me to see Big Ben before we’d had dinner, and then we’d finally returned to his mansion, exhausted and ready to fall into bed.
We’d moved at a slower pace this morning. Most of our day had been spent at Buckingham Palace. Since it was a little too early to hit the ten or so weeks when the Queen wasn’t in residence in the summer, when the palace was open to the public, Damian had arranged to tour most of the residence and grounds with the assistance of his connections.
To my relief, and for the sake of my tired feet, I was glad we’d come back to Damian’s home early.
We’d decided on a swim, and then we planned on devouring the meal his housekeeper had prepared before she’d left for the day.
“Are you just going to stand there, or are you planning on getting into the water sometime in the near future?” Damian teased after he broke the water, and slicked back his wet hair. “It’s heated.”
Nope. It wasn’t exactly the temperature of the water I was worried about. The pool had to be warmer than the ocean temperature in California.
I was having a moment of uncertainty about yanking off the coverup I was wearing, and exposing my less-than-perfect body to a guy who was built like a Greek god.
Ridiculous. I swim all the time in California, and I’ve never had a moment of embarrassment about running around in a swimsuit.
It wasn’t like I was a bikini wearer. I was sporting a modest, one-piece suit beneath my black-and-white flowered coverup that ended at my knees.
I just wished that it didn’t hug every single curve on my body.
“What’s wrong?” Damian questioned as he swam to the edge of the pool to talk to me.
“I don’t think that my body will be similar to the bikini-clad women who usually use this pool,” I said doubtfully.
“Are you saying that you’re nervous about stripping down to your suit?” he asked, sounding confused.