Although she allowed herself a very brief moment to enjoy his warmth and, most especially, his hand resting protectively against their child (and she allowed their child a moment to feel that protection too), she went into action.
Carefully but swiftly, she exited the bed and walked directly to the bathroom not looking back to see if he woke and only cursorily patting Baron and Gretl’s heads as she went.
Then she spent an inordinate amount of time in the bathroom. Brushing her teeth far longer than necessary. Flossing with obsessive precision. Washing her face and slathering it with a masque. Sitting on the toilet seat (fretting) for ten minutes to let the masque work. And taking the longest shower in history.
All of this was in hopes that Jack would leave before she was done in the bathroom.
When she could delay no more, she walked out to see the bed was empty.
She felt a wave of relief which was followed immediately by a surge of intense disappointment.
She tamped down this insane reaction and got ready for her day.
As it was too early for her mother and grandmother (both late risers) and Joy (also, Belle learned, not exactly a morning person), Belle ate breakfast alone.
Jack joined her when she was sipping a decaf coffee, staring out the windows to the sea and attempting to keep her mind completely blank (although this wasn’t working, as such).
His hair was slightly damp, he was wearing jeans, a snug-fitting, long-sleeved, dark grey t-shirt and carrying a newspaper.
He looked really good (criminally good) in his t-shirt and she noted dazedly he obviously liked dark grey and black because, outside of blue jeans, that was nearly all she’d seen him wear.
As she was making this insignificant mental note and staring at him, he got close and bent down, kissing her upturned nose.
“Morning, poppet,” he said softly when his face moved away.
“Morning,” she whispered, feeling like an idiot even as she made an additional mental note that she liked him kissing her nose and she watched his eyes slide to her coffee cup.
“I thought you didn’t drink coffee,” he remarked.
“Decaf,” she replied, his lips curled up in a barely there but still unfairly attractive grin and he moved to his seat and threw the paper by his place setting as he settled in.
Elaine came in, took his breakfast order and Belle resumed her contemplation of the sea, trying to still her racing heart and her equally racing thoughts.
“Belle,” Jack called and her gaze moved to his ear then she forced herself to look into his eyes before he called her on it, something she knew he’d do. “I need to show you something and I don’t want you to get upset.”
She braced and kept silent. His voice was gentle, not impatient but still, she couldn’t help but worry.
“It’s going to happen quite a bit and you’re going to have to learn to ignore it,” he continued.
“What’s going to happen?” she asked and he flipped open the paper and showed it to her.
She stared in horror at what she saw.
There was a full colour picture of her and Jack taken through the windshield of his car, his fingers wrapped around her neck, their bodies close, their faces even closer because they were kissing.
Goodness gracious! The whole world was going to see a picture of her kissing Jack!
Her eyes skittered to the caption and it read, Making Up, Britain’s Sexiest Tycoon Wins Back The Tiny Dynamo.
“Holy heck,” she breathed and Jack flipped the paper shut and threw it to the side.
“Ignore it,” he commanded.
Her eyes lifted to his. “We were kissing.”
“Ignore it.”
“In your car,” she continued.