Lacybourne Manor (Ghosts and Reincarnation #3)(135)
That evening he changed all the alarm codes and explained them and how to work the complicated system to the three women currently occupying Lacybourne. Then, upon seeing three uncomprehending faces, he explained them again. Then, when his mother bit her lip and Mags’s eyes shifted uneasily this way and that, he patiently explained it again.
He did not even want to consider what would happen when the new system he’d ordered was installed.
Preparing for bed, he exited the bathroom after brushing his teeth to see Sibyl sitting cross-legged on the bed wearing another one of his t-shirts. Apart from the fact that she loved him, which he found a vastly pleasurable experience the like of which he’d never known, the second thing he liked best about her was her new habit of wearing his t-shirts to bed. Not just that she did it, but the casual intimacy it evoked that she did.
Not to mention she looked utterly adorable sitting cross-legged close to the end of their bed, her face free of makeup, her fantastic, gleaming hair loose around her shoulders.
She broke him out of his reverie by saying, “Um… Colin?”
The hesitant somewhat guilty tone of her voice tore all pleasant thoughts of Sibyl’s love and how adorable she was in his t-shirt out of his head.
He just looked at her, mentally preparing for the worst.
“I have something to tell you,” she continued.
He stopped at the foot of the bed and stared down at her.
“Let me guess,” he drawled, “you discovered your bodyguard’s sister has diabetes and you’ve decided to give her your kidney.”
Her head jerked slightly and then her face lit up in a magnificent smile before she burst into deep, musical laughter. His body jolted at the sound and it occurred to him that this was the first time he’d ever made her laugh.
And doing it he felt, oddly, like he’d conquered the world.
Once she had herself under control she shook her head, her hair shifting beautifully around her face, and said, “No.”
“What is it?” He asked and then leaned forward, unable to prevent himself even if it meant losing the millions he’d worked so hard for he placed his hands on the bed on either side of her h*ps and kissed the smile on her face.
When he lifted his head she said, “It was National Trust day today at Lacybourne.”
“I know.” He put his knee on the bed and she had no choice but to grab his shoulders as he loomed over her and she had to lean back to allow his body into the space where hers had just been.
“Well, word is getting out about you and me, Royce and Beatrice.”
He froze then he narrowed his eyes at her. “How’s that happening…” he paused, “exactly?”
She pulled her lips between her teeth for a moment then released them and said, “Well…” and that was all she said but she drew the word out so it lasted several seconds.
“Sibyl.”
“They already knew about you, of course,” she started quickly. “Then some of the tourists told some of the Trust volunteers last Saturday after they’d seen us, I mean me… with, er, you, outside and then, today, the volunteers and tourists kind of saw me –”
He moved forward more, this time menacingly and she clutched his shoulders and her legs uncrossed as he settled her back, dropping his weight on her. She didn’t have a chance to close her legs and he pressed himself between them.
“Kind of saw you?” he asked as he lifted himself up with his elbows in the bed at her sides in order to look down on her.
“Yes… well, I was kind of, er… mingling amongst the tourists.”
He closed his eyes and silently asked whatever deity, God or her goddess, to grant him patience.
She went on hurriedly, “Well, it was Mags’s fault. She went down into the Great Hall first and was shooting off her mouth. Then your mother joined her and I can’t really say anything to her, because I don’t know her very well and it isn’t my place. I just went in to try to get them out and then things got a bit out-of-control –”
He opened his eyes. “How out-of-control?”
“I think there might have been reporters,” she whispered, her eyes wide.
He dropped his forehead to hers and sighed, “Sibyl, you truly are the most an –”
Before he could finish, she burst out, “Mags started it!”
He lifted then shook his head, “What am I going to do with you?”
Her mouth twisted into an adorable pout before she grumbled, “It wasn’t my fault.”
“Darling, do me a favour,” Colin muttered.
She nodded.
“While I’m trying to save our lives, could you please try not to further endanger yours?”
She heaved a great breath and then said, “I’ll try.”
But he knew, and she knew, that she most likely wouldn’t be very successful.
The next morning, he’d barely sat behind his desk when Mandy rushed in with his morning coffee and then slapped a newspaper down on his blotter.
“I thought I’d show you that first thing, before anyone said anything,” she said in a dire voice, her eyes so big Colin was concerned they’d pop out of her head then she mumbled ominously, “I’ll hold your calls,” and quickly exited the room.
He flipped open the paper to where Mandy had helpfully folded it back to a page. There he saw a stock photo of himself, a picture of Sibyl standing in the Great Hall smiling winningly at two poorly dressed tourists and replicated photos of the portraits of Beatrice and Royce. The title of the article read, “Tycoon and Social Worker are Cursed Lovers Reincarnated.”