Christmas at the Little Clock House on the Green. Eve Devon

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СКАЧАТЬ her in five steps and thank goodness, because she could see they were nearing the end of the woods and was she supposed to turn left or right at the end of them? He had her so flustered she couldn’t even think.

      They’d taken maybe twenty steps in silence before he shocked her by saying, ‘You know if you really want to see something beautiful while you’re in Whispers Wood, you should take a look around Knightley Hall’s gardens.’

      ‘Really?’ She glanced up at him. ‘I’d be allowed to do that? What are your opening times?’ Darn. So much for not speaking to him.

      ‘The gardens aren’t open to the public – well not yet, anyway. I suppose I could give you a tour though. When I have time,’ he added, making it sound like he actually wouldn’t have the time any time soon.

      She was just contemplating this when they cleared the woods and stepped out onto the village green. Without thinking she reached out and laid her hand on his arm to stay him and was quietly charmed when he instantly moved protectively in front of her.

      ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, his gaze wandering across the village green.

      With a sigh she stepped around him. ‘Nothing. This is my first real look at The Clock House, is all.’

      And, oh, it was wonderful.

      Three storeys of red brick house standing in regal Georgian fashion, its sparkly clean windows glinting invitingly, beckoning her closer.

      She could almost hear the horse and carriages of old, driving up the gravel path.

      ‘It’s like something out of a regency romance,’ she whispered. ‘I can’t believe I get to work here.’ She couldn’t help herself. Feet no longer as cold as they had been, she went straight into a Happy Dance.

      Jake stared at her. ‘You were first in line the day they held auditions for Pharell Williams’ Happy video, weren’t you?’

      ‘Ha-ha. And I suppose you’ve never busted out a few moves, have you? Or is rolling your eyes at the world your signature move?’

      Instead of looking at the huge great big clock, he glanced at his watch and then back at her pointedly, ‘Are you going to celebrate the outside all day, or might you eventually want to go inside?’

      ‘Oh, I can’t wait to get inside. If it’s half as beautiful as the outside,’ she slid her gaze sideways to his, ‘and it’s what’s on the inside that counts, right? Well, then prepare for more dancing.’

      ‘I’m pretty sure Kate’s going to frown at you salivating all over the parquet flooring.’

      ‘I’m embarrassing you? Simply for gushing a bit about a building? Not a romantic bone in your body, is there?’

      Those full lips of his pinched tight. ‘To coin a phrase I recently heard: Hey, I resent that. You don’t know anything about me.’

      ‘I know enthusiasm is anathema to you.’

      ‘Not at all. But not everything has to produce a larger than life and slap-you-about-the-face instantaneous Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God, reaction, either.’

      She realised he didn’t believe or trust her reactions were real and opened her mouth so that the flames she so badly needed to shoot him down with could come out, but all that came out was a huffy-hoity, ‘Your American accent is atrocious.’

      His hand went to his heart. ‘You wound me to the core,’ he said in a way that left her in no doubt that she couldn’t possibly. ‘Now are you coming or not? I’m not sure Whispers Wood is ready for you to dab your way across the village green, so you might want to save the celebrations for when you get inside the building.’

      ‘Hey, you know what would be great?’ she muttered, in hot pursuit as he set off across the village green.

      ‘What?’

      ‘If you didn’t provide a sarcastic voiceover in my ear as soon as I voice any kind of pleasure.’

      ‘Fine.’

      And suddenly they were at the front doors and Jake was gallantly gesturing for her to precede him into the entryway.

      Emma strode through the double doors and gasped, a huge grin forming as she took in the polished parquet flooring, the sweeping staircase, with the elegant antique writing desk tucked underneath, forming a welcoming reception area. As she lifted her head she took in the balustrade balcony area that must lead to the spa treatment rooms and co-working office space. Looking to her right two double doors had had their wood panels replaced with glass that had ‘Hair @ The Clock House’ etched in swirling white and gold lettering across them. Through the doors she got a brief, delightful, glimpse of chandeliers hanging over ornately framed floor to ceiling mirrors with elegant tables in front of them. The room was obviously still in the stages of being finished but, oh, wow.

      ‘It’s like out of a film set,’ she said, turning again in a slow circle.

      She saw Jake shake his head at her. ‘Could you be more awe-struck?’

      American, she thought he meant, but she was too happy to be offended. ‘Probably not. Oh, I love it. It’s like I’m in an actual real-life Regency Pump Room.’

      And then she was turning her head to the left because that was where the tearoom had to be…

      Oh, shoot! The double doors were closed so that she couldn’t see in.

      ‘All you need is an empire-line dress and you’ll be all set,’ he murmured. ‘It’s like you’ve found your people, only they’re not people, they’re old things.’

      ‘Hey, you said you’d be quiet.’

      ‘Did you know when you’re piqued you get this little wrinkle on the bridge of your nose? Maybe they have a treatment for that here?’

      Her hand instantly came up to brush at her nose and she opened her mouth to speak but no words came out.

      Honestly, either he had her speaking like something out of a turn of century – the last century – novel or, he was making her feel like she needed the safety-net of a script to follow.

      She clicked her fingers and said, ‘Oh my God, I’ve just realised who it is you remind me of.’

      He looked at her as if he expected her to say some famous actor.

      So her smile was extra-wide when she nodded and said, ‘Yep. Also lives in a wood. The Hundred Acre Wood.’

      When he frowned she made an uncanny braying noise.

      ‘You are referring to Eeyore?’ he spluttered.

      ‘Well, what do you know, not just a hat-rack,’ she said pointing to his head.

      She watched with satisfaction as his jaw dropped open and then in the next moment he was pulling in a breath and announcing loudly in a voice full of boredom, ‘Hello? If anyone cares I brought Hollywood with me,’ and just like that he was walking away from her.

      Unbelievable!

      Insufferable!

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