Royal Holiday (The Wedding Date, #4)(54)

She tried to fight back her grin.

“Maybe,” she said.

He rolled over on top of her and kissed the hollow between her breasts.

“Well, since it’s my fault you’re cold this morning, I see it as my duty to warm you up. Luckily, I can think of a good way to do that.”

An hour later, she was in his kitchen making them both tea. Thank goodness he had a big, cozy robe for her to wear over her pajamas, otherwise she’d probably stay in bed with him for hours.

Actually . . . that didn’t sound so bad.

He padded into the kitchen with sweatpants on.

“We got those pastries yesterday when we were out; I thought we could warm them up in the oven for breakfast?”

She opened the oven to show him the pastries inside and on a cookie sheet.

“I got that far, but I couldn’t quite figure out how to turn on your oven. I kept pressing buttons that beeped angrily at me, and I finally gave up.”

He laughed and reached over her.

“You have to push these two buttons at the same time; I know it’s ridiculous, but I’m used to it at this point.”

Ten minutes later, as they sat at his kitchen table with a plate of warm pastries in front of them and full mugs of tea, Vivian heard a key in his front door.

“Um, Malcolm?” She gestured toward the door, and he jumped up.

“Probably just building maintenance. Excuse me.”

But before he could get to the door, it opened, and a young, tall, brown-skinned man walked in.

“Oh.” He stopped when he saw Malcolm. “I didn’t realize you’d be home.”

“Miles!” Malcolm walked toward him. “What are you doing here?”

The boy’s lips were tight, and he didn’t look at Malcolm.

“I just came to return this.” He held up the key. “I obviously won’t be needing it anymore.”

Malcolm’s eyes narrowed.

“Now, Miles, don’t you think—”

Vivian stood up. It was well past time for her to intervene.

“Hi, Miles. I’m Vivian,” she said. “We have a full pot of tea and some pastries here. Would you like some?”

He looked from Malcolm to her and then back to Malcolm.

“Oh. I didn’t realize . . .”

She didn’t wait for him to answer her and poured him a mug. “How do you take your tea, Miles? I know your uncle likes it with nothing in it, but I like a little cream and sugar both in mine.”

He hesitated. He was clearly too polite to reject her offer, thank goodness. And thank God Malcolm had the good sense to keep his mouth shut.

“Sugar, please. About a spoonful?” He hesitated, then walked over to her. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

She stirred the sugar into his tea and shook her head.

“We haven’t, but I’ve been hoping to meet you. I’m a friend of your uncle’s, visiting from the States.” She handed him the mug.

“I thought you sounded American! Where do you live? I’ve always wanted to visit New York.” He took a sip of the tea.

She smiled at him and went around to the table.

“Come, sit down and have a pastry. We got them yesterday at this great bakery in—what neighborhood was that in, Malcolm?”

“Soho,” Malcolm said, as he sat down next to her.

“Yes, there. It’s my first time in London—I keep forgetting where I am.”

Miles walked over to the table to look at the plate full of pastries. See? She knew you had to lure teenage boys with food. Worked every time.

“And I’m from California, not New York, but I’ve been to New York a few times, and always have a wonderful time whenever I go. Though”—she made a face—“I can’t handle it there in the summer. I’ve only been during the summer once, but never again. So hot and sticky and there’s garbage everywhere.” She picked up her tea. “Then again, I still had a great time even in the heat; the museums are fantastic, and my God, the food is good. You should definitely go as soon as you can.”

Miles plopped down across the table from her and picked up a bun.

“Oh yeah, I really want to! But California seems amazing, too—so different from London. What are you . . . ?” He glanced at Malcolm and quickly looked back at her. “How long have you been in London?”

What a polite child he was. He was clearly dying to know what the hell this woman he’d never heard of was doing in his uncle’s kitchen, but he wouldn’t let himself ask. She’d take pity on him.

“I’ve just been in London for a few days, but I’ve been in England for a little bit over a week. My daughter and I were here for Christmas visiting some of her friends, and after Christmas we came to London, and I’ve been here since then.” She didn’t need to tell him the whole story. “I’ve had a fantastic time so far, though I hadn’t realized just how different England and America were until my time here. Even our words for food are so different.”

Miles burst out laughing.

“It’s so true! One time, this kid from the States was in my school because his mum was working here—he got so confused when someone said we had flapjacks. He thought they would be pancakes!”

Vivian looked at him sideways.