Page 83 of Stuck

“See? Your Fitzwilliam likes it,” Pam said with a knowing look. “Now stop complaining and answer the door.”

At four o’clock, replete with slightly cold pizza and slightly warm wine, Elizabeth and I stepped back onto the pavement outside the block of flats. She promptly threw herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck. Naturally, mine immediately wound tightly around her in response. She pulled back enough to start peppering my face with kisses, thanking me between each one.

“Not that I will ever complain about you kissing me, but to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You were amazing! I don’t know what you did in there, but… I’ve never seen her like that. Not for a very long time anyway. She didn’t get cross once. She didn’t snap at me, she didn’t cry.”

“Does she usually?”

“Always. There’s always something.” She kissed me lingeringly on the lips then turned more serious. “It’s going to be a long week. I’ll miss you.”

With the licensing deal in progress and the Vertex buyout off the table, my marathon stint at Hydro Crops was done; I’d be back to monthly board meetings and email catch-ups with Bingley while I returned to my day job as the CEO of the Pemberley Group. I was leaving for Derbyshire in the morning.

I took a deep breath and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Not as much as I’ll miss you.”

Elizabeth’s mouth twisted, and she looked suddenly nervous. “It’s going to be difficult doing this long distance, isn’t it?”

“No,” I said without hesitation, no doubt in my mind whatsoever. “I’ll call every day. I’ll be here every weekend. I’ll drive down every evening if you want me to. I’ll make this work, Elizabeth.”

She grinned up at me, so damned beautiful. “That’s good, because I don’t think Mum’s going to let you out of her clutches now.”

I smiled; she’d work out soon enough that I didn’t need her mother to keep me here. I wasn’t going anywhere.

38

ELIZABETH

Darcy sent Trent to pick me up. I’d planned to get the train—it was a quick two-hour journey that would have got me to Matlock station by nine—but he’d insisted. Now, halfway up the M6 and feeling my eyelids droop with tiredness after a crazy week at work, I had to admit, I was grateful. Trent would take me door to door, I hadn’t had to pack light, and the car was luxurious, with refreshments in the mini fridge, a TV, air conditioning, and a snuggly blanket that I knew Darcy had put in here for me.

I didn’t realise I’d fallen asleep until I was woken up in the most delectable way possible. I gradually became aware of a warm chest rising and falling beneath my cheek, a strong arm around my back, kisses in my hair, and murmured words of affection tumbling around my ears as awareness trickled back into my senses.

“There she is,” Darcy whispered when I opened my eyes. “Hello, beautiful.”

I lifted my head and blinked at my surroundings. I was still in the car, which was no longer moving. Darcy had climbed in with me and pulled me into his arms while he waited for me to wake up. Something warm and weighty expanded in my chest, taking up too much space, making me burn.

“I’m so sorry. You should have woken me up.”

“And miss this?” he asked, gesturing between us. “Not a chance.”

I sat all the way up and tried to straighten my clothes and tidy my hair. “How long have I been asleep? Is Georgiana here?”

Darcy reached for my hand, putting a halt to my fussing. “She’s out with her boyfriend tonight. I told her you’d be late—we agreed to do introductions tomorrow.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Okay, that’s good.”

“Is it?” he asked, a hint of concern flashing in his eyes.

I nodded, smiling self-consciously. “Yes, because I really want her to like me, and I can’t believe that keeping her waiting while I take a nap in the back seat of your car would make a brilliant first impression.”

A slow smile spread across his face, and he cupped my cheek. “There is no conceivable scenario in which my sister doesn’t adore you. She’s obliged to, since I told her how much your mother adores me, and she’s scarily competitive.”

I almost groaned at the mention. “My mother has not stopped messaging me about you all week. I wouldn’t have believed the word ‘athleticism’ was in her vocabulary before last Saturday.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do I want to know what she’s been saying about my athleticism?”

“Your ego might, but my sanity doesn’t. Let’s just say that painting her nails has not diminished your masculinity any in her eyes.”

He laughed, and I wanted the sound to soak into my bones and stay there forever.