He refills our glasses and sits back, absent-mindedly fondling Toby’s massive head by his thigh.
“Have you been…unwell?” he asks. A cautious opening gambit.
“Well, yes, actually.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” He is looking at me with a faint, and faintly sardonic, smile on his face, but I carry on.
“There’s this man I…like. Worst possible situation. We work together. And you know the old saying. Never dip your nib into the office ink.”
I nurse a mug of milky tea between my sleeve-covered hands and pretend that I have to concentrate on drinking from it.
“Does he like you?” He is looking at Toby, who is resting his head on his master’s knee now, blissfully oblivious to everything but the fingers behind his ears.
“He likes touching me.”
“Yes,” he says quietly, “he does.” He glances up at that, and I don’t look away. “He likes it very much. But he’s not a green boy any more, and he knows that it will end in tears. Whichever way it will end, it will end in tears.”
“I know. It’s a pig’s breakfast.”
What more is there to say?
“Do you like it?” he asks the back of Toby’s head. “When he…touches you?”
Although the blood pounding in my chest and my throat is almost choking me, I set down my mug of tea and stand up. Both dogs raise their heads, alert but unwilling. “Sorry, Toby. May I cut in here?”
And I sit down on Giles’s lap, my knees between his thighs, and snuggle into him. He doesn’t push me away, even when I hug him with both arms around his neck and nestle my face into the fragrant warmth of his throat.
“I like it more than anything.”
Chapter 35
“FEEL THIS.” HE TAKES MY HAND, and I am taken aback by what I suspect he is going to do, but he presses my palm flat against his chest. Wool, cotton, skin, ribs, hard but warm, and the fast beating of his heart. Very fast.
“Two scaredy cats,” I whisper. The skin of his neck is hot under my lips, and it smells all Giles-y and lovely. His right hand has begun to stroke my thigh, a bit like he fondled Toby’s ears a minute ago. I like that; I’m not ready for sex yet.
“At least I’m only a senior colleague and not your chair.”
“Hell, yes. I don’t think I could ever have done this if you’d been chair, Giles.”
“I knew that.”
“Even my brazenness has limits, and—what?” I lift my head from his shoulder, only to see him grinning at me with a strange expression in his eyes. Expectancy.
“I knew you’d never consider an affair with me for one second if I’d accepted the chair.”
All I can do is stare at him as the penny drops.
“I don’t believe that! You—refused—”
“Yeah.” He nods, still grinning. “I admit it was a gamble. Not that it was such a big sacrifice. I have no desire at all to be involved in any capacity whatsoever in Nick’s crimes and misdemeanors. But I thought I had a very slim chance with you as a colleague, and no chance at all as chair.” He wraps his arms around me and squeezes hard till I cry out. “I wanted this. Want.”
Our eyes meet, and expectation sends a shiver over my skin. All the things we haven’t done yet.
“What about your plane?” he asks. “Weren’t you off to New York tomorrow morning? Or are you thinking of doing a runner again?”
“I told my mother I’d met someone and couldn’t leave right now.”
“Oh, the truth. Did you tell her it’s me?”
“Good grief, no. She worries enough about me as it is, in her own way. No proper job, no husband, no children.”
“Do you want children?”
This is one question I did not expect. I sit up and look at him.
“I don’t know what your plans are,” he goes on, blushing, “but maybe it’ll help you to make up your mind about…all this, me, if I tell you straightaway that I can’t have any children. I’m sorry, this is really presumptuous of me. I shouldn’t even—”
“You just told me that we can’t have an affair, and now you’re talking about why we can’t have a family?” Maybe I should pretend to be more surprised, but I am too glad to pretend.
“No! Look, I just want to be straight with you, that’s all—”
“And I appreciate that.” I cup his face in my hand and kiss him on the lips, very tenderly. “Thank you for telling me. Why can’t you?”