Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 96833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
I had about a mile left to go when I came upon an open field of what appeared to be hundreds of sheep. It was like all the sheep I’d counted in my head to get to sleep as a child suddenly came to life. A living dream. Wow. Simply breathtaking. My car slowed…
Boom!
Oh no.
No.
No. No.
I’d been so distracted by the sheep that I’d slammed right into the car in front of me. Thankfully, I hadn’t been going fast, but I could already see a small dent.
Shit. Shit. Shit!
The car pulled over to the side of the road, and so did I.
A tall, dark-haired man got out. He was strikingly handsome, which made this whole thing so much more embarrassing.
I got out, too, noticing barely a scratch on the front of my rental car.
“What the hell?” he demanded.
“I’m sorry. I took my eyes off the road for just a split second and—”
“Clearly. What in God’s name were you looking at, your phone?”
“No.” I pointed to across the road. “The sheep. They’re so beautiful. And there were so many. I got distracted.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Sheep.”
I swallowed. “Yes.”
“Well, there are sheep everywhere here. So if you get distracted that easily, you’re going to get yourself killed.”
“I’ve never hit another car in my life. I’m so sorry.”
“How lucky am I to have been the target of your first sheep-watching calamity.”
God, the accent. So gosh-darn sexy. The wind blew a waft of his masculine scent toward me. We were in a rural area, yet this guy looked plucked straight from the city. Very London, if you asked me, wearing a fitted, ribbed black turtleneck that complemented his shiny, black hair and a chunky, expensive watch. And he was so wonderfully tall.
I caught myself staring and cleared my throat. “I have insurance. But I’m from the US. I don’t know how this works if I’m driving a rental in another country. I—”
“Don’t worry about it.” He held his palm out.
Baaaa… I heard in the distance. “Are you sure?” I rummaged through my purse. “I have to give you something.”
“What are you going to give me? Nail polish to touch up the damage?” he cracked. “Just keep your eyes off the sheep and on the bloody road before you kill someone.”
Before I could say anything further, the man returned to his car and got in. If this was how the rest of the trip was going to go, I was in trouble. At least he’d let me go, and I wouldn’t have to tell anyone I’d be meeting about this.
I pulled onto the road again, noticing that the guy had waited for me to take off first. As I drove away, I could see his car behind me through the rearview mirror. He’d probably let me go first because he was paranoid to drive in front of me again. Couldn’t say I blamed him.
When the GPS alerted me that I’d arrived at my destination, The Bainbridge Inn, I was surprised to see the man I’d hit also pull into the driveway.
We both exited our cars, and a sense of dread filled me. “Did you follow me here?” I asked.
He didn’t immediately answer, and his expression was hard to read. He looked a little disoriented. “I did not follow you here, no.”
“Then why did you pull in after me? You changed your mind about taking down my information?”
“This is my destination,” he said, stone-faced.
“You’re staying here?” I shook my head. “Oh.” I laughed nervously. “I’m sorry. What are the chances? That’s…unfortunate.”
“Unfortunate why?”
“That I hit you while you’re on holiday.”
“I’m not on holiday. I live here.”
Just then the front door opened, and a sweet little old lady emerged. “You must be Abby.”
I straightened. “I am, yes.”
“I see you’ve already met Sigmund.”
My jaw dropped.
Sigmund?
Ugh!
This is Britney’s husband.
Crap.
Great.
Just great.
His full name was Sigmund Benedictus, but Phil and Kate called him Sig.
I turned to him. “Well, this is embarrassing. Did you know it was me this whole time?”
“When you pulled into the inn, I figured it out. But I had my suspicions after you rammed into me and I heard your accent. I feared it was you.”
My cheeks burned. “Why didn’t you say anything, if you suspected?”
“I wanted to observe you in your natural element, I suppose.”
That kind of pissed me off. He was testing me? “Learn anything interesting?” I cocked my head.
“You’re a bad driver.”
There was an awkward silence as we stood across from each other. A brisk breeze blew my long, brown hair around. His stunning looks were unnerving. I hadn’t been prepared for this. Not that his appearance mattered—I wasn’t coming here to date him. But I might’ve been less tense if he wasn’t so intimidatingly good-looking.
The old woman stepped between us and held out her hand to me. “I’m Lavinia.”
I took it. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for having me.” I turned to Sig. “I didn’t realize you lived here.”