Page 33 of The Best Thing He Never Wanted

He stood and watched her walk down the hallway, waiting until she’d unlocked her door and turned to wave. As he waved back, Blane could just imagine what Cash would have to say if he could see the smile on his face right now. He didn’t care. Earlier tonight, he’d said goodbye to her believing it was the last time he’d ever see her. Tomorrow, he got to say hello again. And that was something worth smiling about.

Chapter Eight

Bea regretted that extra glass of wine on Monday morning, but she downed a couple of painkillers and an extra glass of water with her coffee before jumping into the shower. She was awake ridiculously early. She tried to tell herself she was practicing for tomorrow, when she’d have to be up even earlier to get to Heathrow three hours before her flight, but she knew better. She was meeting Blane for breakfast at seven-thirty, and once her eyes had popped open and she’d remembered that, there’d been no chance of getting back to sleep.

She took her time styling her hair and getting dressed. She didn’t know what the day would hold, but she hoped he saw it the same way she did—that breakfast was only the beginning. They had a whole free, wonderfully unexpected day ahead of them, and she wanted to spend all of it with him.

By seven ten, she was tired of pacing in front of her window. There was no point picking up the book on her bedside table; she wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on a single word. She might as well go downstairs. Perhaps she could have a coffee with Delia while she waited for Blane.

The lifts were back to their usual mischief, both stubbornly sitting on the ground floor when she pressed the button, but eventually one arrived and carried her down to the basement.

She walked into the breakfast room expecting to wait. Then she spotted him. Blane was sitting beside that bloody great fern again, and her heart did a little somersault when she realized he was here even earlier than she was. She tried to tell herself that perhaps he’d been working already, but when he got to his feet and came toward her, she knew that wasn’t it. He was as eager as she was.

Delia hurried over. “Sorry, Miss Hartley. I’ll get your table ready. Can I help you, Mr. Wilder?”

Bea couldn’t blame the other woman in the least when her cheeks turned a little pink in the face of Blane’s blinding smile.

“You can, if you will. We’d like to share a table this morning.”

“Of course.”

As Delia hurried away, Bea held her breath when Blane leaned in, kissed her cheek, and murmured, “Good morning.”

“Good morning yourself.” She fanned a hand in front of her face. “Oh my. You just made it a very good morning.”

One eyebrow went up. “Wasn’t sure if that’d be too much.”

“It wasn’t too much at all. You mustn’t take everything I say as criticism. I absolutely meant it.”

“Good.” He slid back into the booth and patted the seat beside him. “Sit with me.”

She would have taken the chair opposite, but who was she to refuse?

Once they had their coffees and had ordered breakfast, Blane turned to her. “You okay?”

“I’m wonderful. Very much looking forward to today. How about you?”

“I am.” He took a drink of his coffee. “Any ideas what you want to do with it? You said something about a suitcase last night.”

She pursed her lips. “I did, but I’m sure I can sort something out with that. We should probably take you sightseeing. Don’t you want to see the London Eye or some other point of interest?”

That warm feeling beneath her ribs came back in full force when he held her gaze. “I get to spend the day with you, Bea. You’re my point of interest.”

“Well.” She laughed softly. “I would never have had you down as the kind of man who …” She trailed off. It wasn’t funny, and she knew it.

“It wasn’t a line.”

“I know.”

“I’m not that kind of guy, Bea. If I say something, it’s because I mean it.”

“I know,” she repeated, softer this time. Then, because she suddenly needed to move them past the moment, she said, “And yes, I wouldn’t mind your help. I have to get rid of my old suitcase. I don’t want to leave it for housekeeping to deal with. We can ask reception if there’s somewhere nearby I can donate it.”

Their food arrived, and Bea eyed the two omelets Delia set down in front of Blane.

He lifted a shoulder. “I know. Greedy, right? I had to order a second one the first morning, so since then I’ve just gone ahead and ordered two.”

He glanced at her plate and smiled when he saw she’d ordered the same. Well, only one omelet. But still.