Three Wishes(33)

And as he lay there, he thought of his new apartment, a purchase he had made with investment on his mind. And he thought of Lily in that apartment and nothing about investments entered his mind. And he thought of Lily in the enormous new bed that was being custom built to go in that apartment and the idea of sleeping alone never entered his mind.

He rolled on this side, grabbed his phone and dialled his parents’ number. Laura, he knew, might get worried.

Luckily, Jeff, Laura nor Danielle answered. His brother and sister, unlike Nate, had never moved out. They had never paid rent, as Nate had done on his first flat, or a mortgage, like he’d done on this one, nor had they bought a bag of groceries or anything that came close to self-sufficiency.

Instead, Victor answered.

“Lily isn’t coming back tonight,” Nate informed him.

“I figured as much,” Victor replied, not even attempting to keep the prideful chuckle out of his voice.

“She isn’t coming back tomorrow either.”

“Going back to Somerset?”

“No,” Nate answered shortly.

“I figured that too.”

Nate tried not to be annoyed at his father’s know-it-all attitude. Tonight was a good night. It was the best night of his life. He didn’t much feel like being annoyed.

“Son, when you make your mind up about something you usually don’t f**k around. Never have, likely never will. I saw you looking at that girl outside Harrods. Frankly, I’m a little surprised it took three days.”

Nate decided to end the conversation, “Good night, Victor.”

The amusement never left his father’s voice when he returned, “’Night Nathaniel.”

“Who are you talking to?” Lily was standing in the doorway to the bathroom. As the sun was finally down, Nate had turned on the lights at either side of the bed.

She had a white towel wrapped around her body and she was rubbing the balls of one of her feet against the top of another one.

“Victor,” he answered, watching her, making every effort, and it took a lot of effort, to stop himself from hurtling out of the bed and dragging her back.

She looked absolutely adorable.

And she was his, only his, no one else’s, just his.

She was the only good and decent thing in his life that had been just his.

She interrupted his pleasant reverie. “I knew that, I heard you say your Dad’s name. I meant to ask why?”

“I told him you weren’t coming back tonight.”

Her eyes rounded in shock, she took a quick step forward and halted. “You did what?”

“You’re staying with me tonight,” he told her.

“I can’t stay with you. I can’t not go back. If I don’t go back they’ll know what we’re doing, what we did, I mean, what we’ve done!”

He didn’t respond mainly because she was correct.

She shot into the room and started to grab her clothes from the floor.

“I have to go back,” she announced, bending double to put on her underwear, the rest of her outfit tucked under her arm. “They put a roof over my head. I mean, you’re their son.”

“Lily, come to bed.”

She whirled on him at the same time attempting to pull the camisole on over the towel.

“No! You have to take me back.”

“I’m not taking you back.”

She had the camisole on, ripped the towel off and threw it on the bed. This sent the clothes under her arm flying but she grabbed the skirt as it fell. Then she shook it out and was clearly about to put it on and ignore him completely.

“Lily, if you put on that lovely skirt, I’ll just take it off again.”

“They’ll think I’m a brazen hussy,” she mumbled, deep in the throes of agitation.

He wanted to laugh but sensed this was not the time. Instead he threw the covers off the bed and, naked, approached her.

She was still trying to put the skirt on, bent double again and hopping around, clumsy in her turmoil. She was also muttering to herself.

“My mother would just die of mortification and my grandmother! Oh, I don’t even want to think. She would have disowned me. She’s probably twirling in her grave.”

“Lily.” He put his hand on her back and she jerked up, tangled her leg in the skirt and started to fall backwards.

His hands shot out, he caught her and pulled her against his body.

She talked about her family a great deal, nearly all the time. At dinner she told him stories of her mother, father, grandmother and some man with the strange name Fazire who she obviously adored. Every time she spoke of them, her eyes would light with love. He’d never seen anything like it, never experienced that kind of devotion. Never let his heart melt enough to realise he had it from Laura and Victor.

And he wanted it, but from Lily.

“Nate, you must take me back to your parents,” she pleaded, her eyes meeting his. “I like them. I don’t want them to think I’m… I’m… wanton.” She was underlining her words with great regularity and Nate had to bite back his laughter.

“They won’t think your wanton.” He could barely say the word without laughing. He definitely was smiling.

Her eyes rounded further then they narrowed dangerously.

“You think this is funny,” she accused.