Fated to be Yours (12 page)

The awkwardness I usually feel leaves me as we sit in a moment of comfortable silence. He obviously must be comfortable as well because he doesn’t make a move to fill it. My eyes fall upon our joined hands and I notice he does the same. He lightly squeezes it, causing another spark to travel through my body.

“I hope you don’t mind this Tessa, me holding your hand. It’s just that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we first met. There’s this overwhelming need to touch you as if to make sure that you’re real,” he says quietly.

That low timbre in his voice stirs emotions inside me again and I feel the heat rise in my cheeks as he verbalizes what I’m thinking in my own head.

“Well, to be completely honest, I have the same feeling as you. Every time I’m near you there’s this attraction I just can’t place. It’s very new for me and it scares me a little.”

“While we’re honest with each other, I admit that it scares me a bit as well.”

I watch as he lifts his free hand and lightly traces my cheek with his index finger. My heart beats a pounding rhythm in my chest as I watch his brows furrow in concern.

“What happened here? You have a slight bruise on your face.” The tip of his finger crosses the discolored skin again, causing me to flinch slightly as he hits a sensitive spot.

“Oh, that? It’s nothing.” My attempt to play it off as nothing fails as a frown crosses his beautiful face.

“It most certainly is something. How did you hurt yourself? Please tell me that something or someone didn’t hurt you after we parted ways last night.”

“No, it’s nothing like that Andrew. Do you remember on the plane when I said that I fall out of bed at night?” He nods his head. “Well, that’s what happened. Apparently I really did a number on myself this morning.”

His fingertip brushes the abused spot once more before his hand slowly retreats back. “I hate to think of you falling and hurting yourself this way.”

“It’s nothing really. It barely hurts. And besides, I’m used to it.”

“What are your dreams about, if I may ask?”

How do I answer this question without sounding like a complete nut-job? How do I explain to this gorgeous man, who is obviously way out of my league to begin with, that there’s a dark-haired man who visits my subconscious every night? Putting my mind into such a fit I willingly throw my body from the bed to crash back down to Earth.

“It’s nothing really, just a silly dream I often have. But enough about me. I’m more interested in learning about you,” I say, changing the subject to take the focus off me.

“Where shall I begin? I was born on the fourteenth of June on the second floor of St. Charles’ Hospital in Kensington.”

He says it with the utmost seriousness in his face and I can’t help myself when I break out in laughter.

“Not that far back. How about something a little more recent,” I say, wiping at an invisible tear. He graces me with that panty-dropping smile, lighting up his face once again.

“Something more recent you say. Well, I went to university at Oxford where I received my MBA. I started working for the Foundation while doing my studies and actually used it for my thesis paper. They had me do small things as I was learning about what exactly the Foundation is involved in, like volunteering to work in some of the centers around the city. When I graduated, the Board was quite happy with all I had accomplished so they decided to make me the head of operations. So now I’m in charge of traveling to each site, making sure they have everything they need and then coordinating funding and overseeing all the details for new centers to be built around the world.”

The passion for his job is evident as I look into his eyes, mesmerizing me completely. He gives me a smile followed by a playful wink as he leans in closer.

“And just so you know, I’m thirty, I also live alone in my flat and am quite boring as well.”

“I hardly doubt that you are boring. Your life is way more interesting than mine by far.”

Unable to hold back any longer I let the laugh escape my throat, causing him to laugh in return as the waiter arrives with our food. Andrew reluctantly releases my hand as the delicious aromas cause my stomach to grumble once again. He gives me a look out of the corner of his eye and I quickly shove a forkful of food into my mouth to quiet the noise.

“So what do you do for fun?” I ask.

Andrew takes a sip of his coffee and wipes at the corner of his mouth with his napkin. “Let’s see. Several of my mates and I started an intramural rugby league a few years back. It started out with just two teams and now we’re all the way up to eight.”

My eyes widen slightly. “Wow, that’s amazing. When do you do this?”

“Normally we play during the summer months on the weekends. We schedule games on Saturday and Sunday, making sure everyone is able to play. We treat it like the professionals do, finding referees and having playoffs and the sorts. It’s a lot of fun and everyone always has a good time.”

I nod. “So you played rugby in college then?”

Andrew smiles and nods. “I did. My mum was less than thrilled about that because she felt I was distracting myself from my studies. So I did the logical thing and got A’s in all my classes.”

I laugh and take a drink of water. “Overachiever.”

He shrugs his shoulders and chuckles. “Possibly. I like to think of it as determined.”

“Do you always get what you want?”

He leans toward me slightly and smiles. “Yes. If I see something that I want, there isn’t much to stop me from pursuing it.”

I flush at his words and tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. “Oh.” He laughs and I look back up into his eyes. “Did you play any other sports?”

He shakes his head. “No, just the one. It was enough to get me by though. Kept me active in between my studies. It was more of an outlet for me than anything else. There’s nothing better to relieve your frustration then by running around and trying not to get killed.”

My fork pauses in front of my face with my mouth wide open. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

He laughs and chews the bite he just took. “Not literally killed. It only feels that way when people are chasing after you.”

“I see.”

“What about you?” he asks. “What do you do for fun?”

I quietly laugh to myself as I think of something good to say. “Not much. I go to work and then come home. Every once in a while Kara will drag me out somewhere or we’ll have a movie night at my place. Otherwise, I just sit at home and read.”

“Ah, a book lover.”

“Yes, very much so.”

“Tell me, what’s your favorite book?”

My eyes draw up to the ceiling before finally shaking my head. “That’s a difficult question. I have so many books that I enjoy that it is hard to pick just one.”

“I bet I could guess it.”

I quirk an eyebrow to him and smirk. “Oh, really? Okay then, what would it be?”

He leans back in his chair and taps his chin with his index finger. “I would imagine that you are a lover of romance and of the classics. You enjoy the stories where the male lead woos the female until they can no longer deny their attraction and succumb to it. With that said, I think I’d classify you as a Janeite. So my guess would be Pride and Prejudice.”

I place my fork down on the plate and cross my arms in front of my chest. “That’s too obvious of a pick. Everyone loves Mr. Darcy. But, no, not Pride and Prejudice.”

“But was I right about being a Janeite?”

I laugh and nod. “Yes, on that you were correct. Actually, Sense and Sensibility is my favorite Austen book.”

He laughs and takes another sip of his coffee. “I knew you were the romantic type.”

I blush and take another bite of my food, not admitting that he’s right about that.

“What about you?” I ask. “Do you have a favorite book?”

“I do actually.”

I mimic his thinking pose from before, tapping my index finger against my chin. “I don’t see you as a Janeite, or any other female author of that era. You probably like action and suspense with little mushy stuff. Although I think you’re a romantic at heart too. But if I had to guess, I’d say Tolkien or Wells.”

Andrew’s lips quirk up into a smile and he shakes his head. “While I do enjoy reading Beowulf and The Hobbit, they’re not my favorite. Actually you may be surprised to hear what my favorite book is.”

“Don’t keep me waiting. I’m on the edge of my seat.”

He ducks his head to the side, looking at my chair and I laugh. With another chuckle, he smiles and clears his throat. “Actually I love the works of Charles Dickens. Bleak House, David Copperfield, Great Expectations. Pick one and I would happily read it for eternity.”

I blink several times and smile. “You’re right. I am surprised. But I have to agree, Dickens is a good author. I would read A Christmas Carol every year during the holidays.”

“Another excellent work. Glad to see I’m not the only person who loves the written word.”

I shake my head and smile. “No, you’re not alone in that area.”

We continue to eat while still falling into discovery mode for our conversations. In the back recesses of my mind, I notice how natural this feels. How compatible we seem to be. I feel like I’ve known him my entire life, which is ridiculous considering we’ve just met. But the familiarity is there once again, pulling at my heart, pulling me towards him and I’m unable to stop it. Not that I would want to anyway.

We sip our coffees once our plates have been removed. A comfortable silence has filled the space again. He reaches over, pulling my hand into his, lacing our fingers together. I watch as he examines our joined hands, marveling myself at the heat I feel coursing through my veins at this simple touch.

“Will you do me the honor of joining me for dinner tonight?” he asks.

Our eyes make contact. The butterflies in my stomach flutter uncontrollably as he silently speaks to me. Taking the risk, I lean my body closer to his so our faces are only mere inches apart. Dragging my bottom lip through my teeth, I swallow hard and nod my head with a smile.

“I would love to join you for dinner tonight Andrew.”

My fingers squeeze his and his face lights up with excitement. But it’s short lived because before I realize it, he’s closing the distance between us and his lips softly find mine. They’re warm with the faint hint of coffee between us, but still it’s a taste that’s all Andrew. It’s brief and instantly miss the contact when he pulls back, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, allowing my eyes to be unobstructed from his.

He glances down at his watch with a frown. With a wave of his hand, he flags the waiter, handing him a credit card to pay for the bill without looking at it.

“We should go get Kara and be on our way. It’s almost time to meet up with Charles and Priscilla.”

He signs his name on the receipt with the same fluidity and elegance that he emanates in everything that he does. I move to stand from my chair, but he’s instantly behind me, pulling it out as I rise to my full height. He runs his hand down the length of my arm before clasping my hand in his, leading me out of the restaurant so we can retrieve my troublemaker boss.

A
NDREW PULLS UP IN FRONT
of an enormous building about a half hour away from our hotel. There’s a fenced in yard with kids of all ages running all over, playing on the equipment and with each other. Their joyful laughter fills the air as we exit Andrew’s car. Of course Andrew is the perfect gentleman, opening the door for both Kara and I before we have the chance to do it ourselves. Who says chivalry is dead?

Andrew holds his arm out to me once again and without thought, my arm links with his. His head turns marginally towards mine, giving me a wink as his arm flexes slightly. He offers Kara his other arm and I can’t help but laugh.

“What’s so funny?” he asks me. I shake my head from side to side, trying to allow my laughter to subside.

“You are, walking into this building with two women on your arms. It must be quite the ego boost for you,” I tease.

Kara and Andrew join in my moment of laughter as we walk across the parking lot toward the school-like building. He slyly smirks and my insides melt just a little bit more.

“With women as beautiful as you two any man would be a fool not to have you hanging on his arms.”

“You are quite the character, Andrew,” Kara says, placing her hand on his strong bicep. “But don’t get any ideas mister. You’re hot and all but totally not my type. Plus I’m already taken.”

She gives me a wink across his body and I can’t help the eye roll that follows. It’s my turn to flex my arm around Andrew’s, reveling at the firmness of it as he flexes against me. My other hand instinctively comes up, gently lying on top in a familiar gesture. Warmth spreads through my body, thinking to myself how natural and effortless it is to act like this around him. Emotions that I’m afraid to acknowledge come creeping to the forefront of my mind and I quickly shake them off, not ready to accept what could potentially be happening here.

Kara laughs again and releases herself from Andrew’s arm, giving us her customary wave over her shoulder as she climbs the front steps. I shake my head at my friend’s apparent attempt to force us together. I will give her this; she’s nothing less than tenacious when she has her mind set on something. And apparently that something is forcing me to be alone with Andrew whenever possible.