headed for the holidays.”
“What about you and your holiday? I didn’t mean…” I trail off, unsure how to finish that. I nearly say ruined your Christmas, but there isn’t a stitch of anything remotely Christmas-y or holiday-ish here. You’d never know that the day after tomorrow is Christmas Eve.
He stares me down another long minute, his eyes flickering about my face before finally looking away, staring off into his kitchen, his posture stiff and his expression cast from stone.
“Dinner is almost ready. You must be hungry.” And it’s only now that I catch the scent of something heavenly cooking. Something that smells like stew and my stomach growls accordingly. He must hear it because I catch a small grin bouncing up the corner of his lips. “Why don’t you go get cleaned up. Do you need any help up the stairs?”
Good question, but considering the situation I find myself in, there is no way I’m going to ask him for anything else. I feel bad enough as it is.
“No. I can manage.” I stand up slowly, moving the blanket back to the couch. My knee hurts like a mother-effer, but I suck it up and deal.
He nods, heading off for the kitchen like just being in the same general proximity as me is painful. I frown again, looking over at his dog and shrugging. It nudges me in the leg as if to say, well, get a move on then.
Sucking in a rush of air, I walk, doing my best not to limp or cry, over to the stairs, grasping the thick wood railing and taking them one at a time.
I chance a glance over my shoulder, but I don’t see Miles. He’s back in the kitchen and hidden behind the wall from my view. Good.
After an eternity, I make it upstairs, but before I can find the room he mentioned, I hear him call out my name. I freeze, staring down at him over the balcony that overlooks the great room beneath, waiting patiently while he works through whatever it is that had him saying my name.
He blows out a harsh breath and says, “I never thought I’d see you again.”
Me either, I think.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he says again. “You scared me when you passed out.”
I stare at him and wonder what’s happened to him in the last eight years. Miles was always quiet. A lot cute and a bit nerdy. Sort of sad, now that I think about it. But sweet. He never had this… edge to him.
“I put some stuff to bandage your knee in there along with a few different types of pain medicines in case you need them.”
God. This man.
Without waiting on my reply, he stalks off, back to the kitchen and I stare after him, something in my chest I’m not familiar with twinging. “Thank you, Miles,” I whisper. This could be a very long couple of days.
Chapter Four
LONDON
Entering the guest room, I look around. It’s big. Like the rest of the house, I’m starting to realize. It has a king-size bed, two nightstands, a dresser, and a bay window that overlooks the entire back yard. I go there first, hobbling like an old woman as I go.
I whistle through my teeth, not only at the snow falling in thick blankets of white, but at what I can make out of the large sprawling property. My suitcases are both set up on the cushioned bench at the foot of the bed and my purse and computer bag are sitting on a fabric chair in the corner.
I shake my head, still unable to get all this in, and open my suitcase, pulling out some comfy, but cute pajamas. I would dress up a little if I wouldn’t look foolish doing it, but my knee is seriously miserable, and I decide comfort over fashion is the way to go.
It’s not like Miles will care or notice anyway.
I strip down, hobbling my broken ass into the bathroom, only to gasp. A double marble vanity, antique white tile floor, large walk-in glass shower with subway tile, and a huge clawfoot tub. “Miles Ford, you are certainly unexpected.”
The bathroom is gorgeous.
But it’s the array of items on the counter that has me saying that about him.
There are three bottles of pills, Tylenol, Advil, and a prescription bottle of something stronger. There are bandages, gauze, tape, scissors, cleaning solutions, and ointments. The shower is loaded with what looks like brand-new shampoos, conditioners, and body washes and I wonder how