Cross the Line

Part Twelve

Naomi toyed with the idea of leaving, heading away from what had become hell on earth. But she was in the middle of nowhere, their flights back weren’t actually until early Monday morning, and the logistics of getting to the airport, changing her flights were all a little ridiculous, so she merely made for the bar and ordered a soft drink, needing time to clear her head.

Patrick smiled as he made across the room to her, “where’s the Con artist?”

She shrugged, “He was having some fresh air, too much champagne I think!”

Patrick nodded, “Lucinda’s the same, she’s headed off to the room for a nap, and freshen up. It’s a long old day!”

                “That sounds like a great plan. When you see Conor will you tell him I’m taking a rest? I’ll see you in a few hours.” He nodded as she walked away.

The outfit she’d worn all day was quite formal, so she was glad to slip it off and pull on a pair of loose training pants and a t-shirt she’d packed on a whim. Curling up in a Chesterfield chair in front of the fire she almost groaned in relief. It was a beautiful late summer’s day, but the castle rooms were chilly and she was glad of the gentle warmth that the fire gave and the calm almost serenity of the room. Rooting around in her holdall she found her Kindle and opened it to carry on reading the book she was halfway into, the latest Patricia Cornwell, about as exciting as her life had got up until the last few weeks.

She must’ve fallen asleep, because she opened her eyes and realised the Kindle had fallen in to her lap. She was tucked into the seat, with her legs throw over one of the arms. The fire was warm though and it was pleasant to wake up still feel relaxed. Then she glanced across the room to see the stony face expression of Conor sat there watching her. He’d loosened his tie and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt, there were dark rings under his eyes and all in all he looked awful. Good! The unforgiving part of her muttered, he’d started this, he was the one who’d changed everything.

                “You’re awake.” He offered.

                “Reluctantly!” she snapped back offering him her best glare.

Conor sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, “look I may not have the most tact on times, and I don’t think I cope very well with being on the back foot. I don’t think it was wrong to bring you here, but I realise that in some ways it was a lot for me to expect to go smoothly. Will you accept my apology?”

She was suddenly wrong footed. Angry she could deal with, in fact she relished it, but him here, being meek and amenable was much more difficult.

                “You treated me like shit Conor, after I did all this to help you out. I’m sorry if this is a difficult time for you, but as I keep saying, I am only here because you asked me.”

He nodded, leaning forward resting his elbows on his knees, “I know. And it was fun...a lot more than fun until I decided to be a complete bastard. I understand that. Will you stay, be my date this evening? I promise to be on my best behaviour and to never speak to you like that again.”

She thought for a minute, “I’m realistically stuck here, but I could be awkward confine myself to this room, though that isn’t in my make up! I have one condition in this little agreement, that we have no more sex. Let’s make this what is always was. A business arrangement, me playing the part of your girlfriend. That is as far as it goes...Deal?”

Looking at her, strong and independent, there was a tug in the vicinity of his chest, which he ignored, instead he goaded her suggestion, “we’re two adults, I’m sure we can resist each other!” Waggling his eyebrow he laughed as he threw her own words back at her.