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Winnie drew a deep breath. How did they keep getting into this situation? Almost kissing and then…nothing.

It was a good thing, though. Business trip, remember?

“You ready to head back?” he asked, taking a step away from her.

“I just need my heels.”

“Right.” He bent down and delivered them to her, their fingers brushing against each other’s, though Matthew no longer met her gaze.

On their short walk back to the bed and breakfast, Winnie itched to walk with her hand outside of her jacket pocket, longing to see if he’d hold her hand if given the option, but she withstood the temptation and kept her fingers tucked securely away.

After all, no good would come from holding hands with a man like Matthew Wintour unless she was allowed to fall for a man like Matthew Wintour. Because as much as Winnie hated to admit it, she was falling for him. And that was where the problem was. Knowing that Dad got her the job at Foxwood was bad enough. Having Dad believe that she’d kept her job at Foxwood because she’d kissed the boss’s son would be even worse.

So she’d keep away from Matthew if it was the last thing she did. Which, honestly, it very well could be, seeing as how each moment she spent with him and didn’t kiss him, was another moment she died a little bit more inside.

Not a damsel in distress, her foot.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Matthew didn’t sleep very well that night. His thoughts and dreams were filled with too many thoughts of Winnie. Her gray eyes, those wellies on her feet, the way her hair hung around her face loosely as they’d walked around the wall…the kisses they’d almost shared.

He’d become so restless throughout the night that when the sunshine finally peeked through his curtains the following morning, he no longer bothered trying to rest, getting ready for the day instead.

Soon, he met with the woman who’d plagued his thoughts all night, and it was little wonder why she had. Once again, she wore those jeans, a classy shirt tucked partially in the front of them, and the wellies from yesterday.

He’d hoped she would wear them again.

“This is in case we have to jump down more walls today,” she said, motioning to her outfit.

Matthew could only smile. He’d been astounded at her bravery yesterday, climbing into that tree, carrying herself beyond the wall, falling into his arms. He knew her fear had been less about actually falling and more about trusting him. Which was why it had meant all the more when she did rely on him.

But dwelling on why he’d wanted her to rely on him in the first place wouldn’t do him any good. It was why he’d pulled away from her last night when they’d nearly kissed.

Twice.

If they gave in to that clear desire the both of them shared, where would it lead, to a relationship? Or to a few non-committal kisses before she left back for New York, never to be seen again?

He wasn’t sure he had the heart to find out.

After a full-English breakfast, and before they traipsed about the city, the two of them gathered their belongings and secured them in the car.

“Keep them safe, Minnie,” Winnie said, patting the rusted bonnet.

Matthew grinned. “Nice to see you’re embracing her.”

“It took me a minute, but I’m beginning to see her appeal.”

After saying goodbye to the car, the two of them made their way back into the city, along with the throngs of early morning shoppers holding their cups of Costa coffees and bags of Gregg’s pastries.

Matthew had filled the day full for them, starting out at York Minster, where they both admired the beauty of the white, vaulted ceilings, the intricate details of the medieval stained-glass windows, and the stunning, Gothic exterior of the structure.

He’d wondered if her excitement that morning would continue throughout the day, so he was immensely pleased when it did as they visited Guy Fawkes’s birthplace, countless shops, seventeenth century inns, and eventually the Shambles and Little Shambles, where she’d actually laughed with delight at the sight.

“I honestly had no idea a place like this even existed,” she said, shaking her head in amazement as they walked down the narrow street, timber-framed structures jutting forth on each side, only a few feet apart from touching one another in the center.

Signs hung out across the street, alerting potential customers of sweet shops, fudge pantries, and tea rooms. They walked past a shop filled entirely with Harry Potter merchandise, and her brow raised.

“Your favorite shop?” she guessed.