Yes, I would go back to the man I had lukewarm feelings for. I was disgusted with myself.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” he sounded almost disappointed. “Is that really how you want to live the rest of your life? Why did you come here with me?”

My thoughts were barreling along like a high-speed chase. Why had I come? “Because I’ve never been to Europe and—and I wanted something different. A change.”

“That’s right. A change.”

His voice throbbed in my ear almost like a sigh, and suddenly a light flickered on and I felt hot all over. I was in the arms of a gorgeous man in one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been.

He would have fought for you.

Did I want Will that badly? Was I going to let him slip away, just like that? I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least try. Yes, he was damaged. He wasn’t perfect, but I was never going to find the perfect man. Then I made the decision: I was going to make him want me. I was going to be brave for once in my life.

“You’re right, Will. I’m sorry for acting like this.”

I looked up and our faces were inches from each other. His breath billowed over my face. I unclasped my fingers from his neck and smoothed them over his chest. His breath ever so slightly caught in his throat. Now his gaze seemed to tremble within mine—he was uncomfortable with this closeness.

A smile appeared on his face. “I guess I should apologize for taking your phone, but I’m not that sorry.”

Though I didn’t want to, I slipped from his lap and his arms unwound themselves from my back. “Let’s get back to the bed and breakfast. I need to work on those designs.”

“Okay,” he said, giving me a strange look before he got out of the car.

* * *

While William sat in a meeting with Mary downstairs, I sat at the small white desk in my room with my tablet PC and drew. I couldn’t decide whether I wanted a pastoral theme or a fairy-tale, children’s-book-type theme. There was something idyllic about this place that I couldn’t quite articulate in words. I cycled through the photos I took during the day. It reminded me of movies I watched as a child, when I believed in magic and secret gardens and fairies. This place almost made me believe in them again.

The kissing gate in front of the cottage was ensnared with vines and flowers, almost as if it was guarding something secret. I drew little, circular avatars of the kissing gate, the cottage with a little river wrapped around it, the mill, the green pastures and moody skies. William and his team could decide which ones they wanted. Then I began the website banners, and there I could incorporate every detail that I loved about the Cotswolds and this bed and breakfast.

“Nice work.”

“Shit!” I was so immersed that I didn’t hear Will creep up behind me.

Will smirked as he took a seat on the bed. “Too bad all that work will probably be for nothing.”

“Why?” I said, aghast.

“I’m just not sure this place lives up to the Pardini brand. People who go to our hotels expect excellence. Luxury. This…” he shook his head as he gazed at the ceiling, his eyes focusing on the chips of paint here and there.

“Oh, come on. This is affordable, isn’t it? And it’s a cottage. It’s going to be cramped and small.”

He shrugged. “This isn’t what I had in mind.”

Giving up, I returned back to my drawings. No matter what, I would put all of my effort into them.

The next day, we bid farewell to Mary and gathered Tom back into his cage to drive to the next destination: Bath. Will offered to drive, but I shot him down with a look. No freaking way. I was a lot less nervous driving than yesterday, so it wasn’t catastrophic.

Back at Cheltenham, we returned the car and took the train to Bath Spa. We found ourselves on a hill, with rows and rows of yellow and beige houses. The train tracks ran straight through the suburbs. Fantastic green hills surrounded us, but it was clear that we were far away from all the attractions.

“Why couldn’t we call a cab?”

“Because we’re here to experience England like everybody else. Or something like that.” He smiled at me.

“Did you go to boarding school too?”

“Nope,” he said, sounding proud of that. “I went to private schools in Chicago with my brothers. Mom didn’t want to send us away.”

I wondered about his upbringing. I knew that his cousin, Luke, was bitter about being sent away to a boarding school. Was he better off?

“So did you grow up getting everything you wanted?”

“Yeah. I was a spoiled little shit. When I grew up, I became an asshole. I was just drunk on the power of being really rich and able to get literally anything I wanted. Then…” his face darkened.

And then you got into a car accident, and it changed you.

The pain twisted his face. “I didn’t really become a human being until a few years ago.”

It was such a strange thing to say, and yet I understood what he meant perfectly. Up until that point, Will had lived like a wild animal; taking what he wanted and devouring every opportunity without a thought of how it would affect anyone else. Then he changed. He developed thoughts and feelings that contributed towards a desire to help other people, breaking free of the crazed, hedonistic drive of adolescence.

How old was I when I “became human?” I think it was when I escaped my parent’s clutches and was able to think for myself for once in my life. When I was outside of their influence and when I learned that not everything they told me was true, it was like a door opening in my mind. One I never knew existed. I remembered all the strange lies they told me, like how everyone who used paper plates must be worthless white trash. That was what Mom always said and we only had ceramic dishes in our house. It was ridiculous to think about.

That was one thing Jessica couldn’t ever understand. What it was like to grow up with parents telling you what to do and what to believe in all the time—and suddenly having that ripped away. And feeling lost. Utterly lost.

William learned that lesson the hard way. “I’m scared of that part of me. I almost completely disappeared. I was the only one of my brothers to go off the deep end. So that’s why I try to avoid relying too much on my wealth.”

Because that’s when bad things happen?

“Life shouldn’t be easy.”

And that, apparently, was why we were dragging our luggage up a steep hill. “No, but it sure is nice sometimes.” I gave him a sly smile. “Never know when you’ll need to bribe someone.”