“Yes,” she said in a whisper.

Didn’t have a clue if her “yes” was a statement or a question, but then again, did it matter? Christ, I was a fucking mess speaking when she was so utterly distracting with her pink lips wet from where she’d just licked over them, and her tits—my God her fucking tits—with their dusky pink nipples budded up tight, all aroused, showing under the emerald green of her blouse, but mostly needing to be under my tongue like an hour ago—

I shook my head once and pulled myself together, hoping what I said next was somewhat coherent. “We need to sort out how this will work logistically for both of us, two people with jobs and school commitments in London, for which there’s still three hundred miles and an ocean standing between it and here.”

Must’ve made some sort of sense because she answered me. “I have classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays this term. I could easily be at Donadea on a Friday morning and then stay through Monday night to work on the collection each week. And then I would go back to London on a Tuesday morning. My class doesn’t meet until the afternoon on Tuesdays, so I would make it in time easy. I know there are early commuter flights in and out of Belfast—”

“No need for that. I can fly us to London in a blink with Nelly. It’s how I commute now. And as it happens, I have to be in London for cabinet meetings on Tuesdays, and for undersecretary meetings on Wednesdays, so this schedule will coordinate well with yours. I could always be called back on other days by the boss, which can’t be helped, but I think our schedule couldn’t be more perfect really. We can leave early on Tuesday morning and I’ll have you in London by nine. Will that work for you this week? It’s Sunday now, so that gives us another day before we have to head back to town.” Please say yes, kitten.

“Yeah, that will work. My schedule’s pretty flexible with my commitments in London at the moment actually. I still have my flat I used to share with Brynne, but I do need a new roommate. My dad wants it to be my sister, Danielle. He’d like for her to move to London for good because he thinks she’ll be safer here.”

“Is she not safe in Santa Barbara?”

Her eyes fluttered down. “She’s probably safe, yeah, but our father is a first-class worrier about all things since our mom died three years ago.”

“If I had daughters that looked like you, I’d be in a permanent state of barking mad terror. Your father sounds like a sensible man who loves his daughters, to me.” A good father. Something I wouldn’t know from my own, but only through other male relatives who showed me what a good father is supposed to be like. It made me happy to know that Gabrielle and her sister had a father who cared so much. What did that feel like, I wonder? A caring parent. I snapped out of my dark musings and remembered something I wanted to tell her. “Since I may need to stay for longer stretches at my London house if the PM requires me, please know you are always welcome to stay over here at Donadea without me in residence. You’re free to come and go from here as you wish, any time, Gabrielle. It’s a standing invitation.”