“You’re welcome,” he replied, not moving at all. He simply stood in front of the stairs, blocking her way. “You don’t like fish and chips? You do know you’re in England, right?”
“Yes, I know I’m in England.” Flustered. He was making her flustered. “I like fish and chips just fine.”
He smiled broadly. “Excellent. I could use a pint. I need some fortification before we get back to the mummies, too. Seriously, these are some ugly dudes. Why would anyone want their body to last this long? I want to immediately be cremated.”
“It was part of their religion. They needed a body if they were to go to the afterlife. I’m pretty sure they didn’t imagine they would end up in a museum thousands of miles away with tourists ogling them.” She started to make an argument about tolerance for other religions, but that was really beside the point. “I didn’t ask you to go to lunch with me.”
He nodded, leaning out of the way so others could come into the hall, but still blocking her advance. “Yes, you forgot to. I admit it was a little rude, but I’ve decided to believe that you were just a little distracted after your near miss with old Tut back there.”
“That wasn’t King Tut.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, I’m not enormously big on Egyptian history. So we’ve decided that you’re a little distractible and it totally affects your social skills, but luckily I’m a very focused guy and I can be polite enough for both of us. I can teach you how the polite world works.” He held out a big hand. “Lee Donnelly. I work in construction back in the States. I just finished a huge renovation job back in Dallas and gave myself two months off to come visit some friends here in London. This is the part where you shake my hand and tell me your name and what you do.”
“Avery Charles.” He’d kind of put her in a corner. There was nothing to do except take his hand. She quickly found her own hand completely wrapped in his. Warmth flooded her system. He had strong hands, callused and rough from work, but so nice to touch. Lee. She liked that name. It was solid and masculine and simple. “I’m the personal assistant to a man who runs a charity fund.”
He nodded at her like she was a slow learner who had finally caught on. “See, that wasn’t so hard. And do you live here in London?”
She kind of wanted to run away, but she had the sudden sense that he would follow, and he would be so much faster. She was caught. Trapped. So why shouldn’t she enjoy the afternoon with the most beautiful man she’d ever met? There wasn’t any harm in it. She spent so much time alone that it would be nice to have a meal with a handsome stranger, and he was obviously at loose ends. He probably felt as out of place as she did and was just looking for some company. Despite the fact that the employees of United One Fund were friendly, no one asked her to have lunch with them. They had their own cliques and friendships, and it would be that way everywhere she and Thomas went.
What could it hurt to make a friend? He was probably just looking for someone to buy him lunch. It might be nice to have someone to talk to.
“I’m from New York,” she replied, allowing her shoulders to come down from around her ears. Now that she’d made the choice to get to know him, she found herself eager to ask him a few questions. “Are you from Dallas?”
“Not originally, though I’ve spent the last several years there. Wow. It’s getting late. Time flies when you’re having fun.” He moved out of the doorway, his hand moving in a graceful gesture. “Let’s go grab some grub as they would say in my neck of the woods. I’m starving.”
She followed him out of the museum, hoping all the while she wasn’t making a mistake.
* * * *
Liam followed her to the door of her building.
“Thanks for escorting me home.” She flushed beautifully in the early evening light. People rushed up and down Bishopsgate Street, but she seemed to have a core calm inside her that made her stand out from the frantic London pace.
He was surprised at just how protective he’d gotten in the last five hours. Avery moved with caution when she was thinking about it, her every step well thought out and intended to keep her on balance. But when she stopped thinking, there was a sweet grace to her steps, a sway to those curvy hips that had him entranced.
She was utterly unlike any woman he’d ever met. Smart. Sweet. Kind.
Was it all an act? He rather thought not so the question was just how she’d gotten involved with a man who was in business with Eli Nelson.
“What happened to your leg? It’s your right leg, isn’t it?” He’d waited all through lunch and the hours they’d spent at the museum for her to bring it up. Most people enjoyed talking about their past pain, holding it up as some sort of excuse for all things in their lives. Not Avery. She hadn’t mentioned it once. All he’d gotten out of her the whole time they had walked through the museum was that she’d been born in New York. She didn’t have siblings, and her parents had died when she was young.
No mention of her crappy childhood. No mention of everything she’d lost.
She flushed, biting that bottom lip of hers. Fuck, he liked her lips. If she’d put a gloss on them, it had come off hours ago. The pretty pink color was all her own and the bottom lip was pouty and plush. When she ran her tongue over it, his cock hardened in response. “I was in an accident. A car accident. It kind of affected my legs. I’m still a little weak on the right side, hence all the near misses. I’m not usually so clumsy. I try to keep my pratfalls to once a day.”
But she’d been distracted. He’d made a careful study of her over the last week. She was right. She usually wasn’t so clumsy. She usually made her way with careful resolve, but she’d been animatedly talking all afternoon as though having a companion to tour with was a special treat for her.
She was lonely. He could use that.
The trouble was, he was starting to think he was lonely, too. He’d enjoyed the afternoon with her far too much. His previous years’ worth of dates had consisted of picking up some willing young thing and topping her for a while before he fucked her and sent her on her way with cab fare.
He hadn’t spent a lazy afternoon with any woman just looking at art or weird dog statues. And yet he’d found himself staring at the big marble dog someone in ancient Greece had carved thousands of years ago and listening to Avery’s chatter about the clean lines and perfect construction, and all he had been able to think about was the fact that maybe he was as stuck as that dog. Maybe he was carved from marble, unmoving, unchanging, and had been ever since that day he’d lost his brother.