Page 64 of Purchase Power
Chapter 18
The sky was uncharacteristically clear that Saturday, and while the weather was still on the chilly side, Noah called for dinner to be served on his personal balcony overlooking the expansive fields behind his family’s manor.Those fields don’t all belong to us…Somewhere was the invisible boundary between his estate and the neighbor’s. Honestly, it was closer to his view than farther. Not that he cared. He never had anything to do with the fields beyond ensuring they were presentable.
He did love the view, however. Especially as the sun began to set in the west, not too far away from the horizon he now enjoyed.
Whenever Noah read for extended periods of time, he preferred to do so outdoors, weather permitting. He loved the fresh air, the goings-on of nature, and warm sunlight on his skin as he dug into classical literature, engaging non-fiction, and works of stimulating poetry. The book now on his tablet was one he had passed over too many times before. Lucy’s presence made damn well sure he read it now. Noah wanted to have something to talk about, after all.
I really remind her of this guy?He flipped back to a previous page, studying the yellow highlights he had made in the text. Every time the name “Rochester” popped up, he reread the descriptions. The dialogue. The very obvious“Ah yes, Mr. Mysterious on His Horse is very much Mr. Rochester, now isn’t he?” Noah didn’t think himself much like this character at all. For one thing, though he was a few ages short of Mr. Rochester’s rank,aggressiveage of thirty-five, he certainly did not approach it the same way. Mr. Rochester acted as if on the brink of death. Regardless of what he may have suffered in his lifetime – and Noah knew a thing or two about suffering – he was not appreciative of a man so down on himself that he barely existed to take care of his ward. The fact he was often described as “birdish” and “beastlike” only made Noah grimace more. Was Rochester a man to swoon after? Was he supposed to be a classic Romance hero? Was he supposed to root for virginal, virtuous Jane to get with the brute? Nothing about this reminded Noah of his own life at all.
He was affable when Lucy arrived for their Valentine’s Day dinner a few minutes later. The tablet pressed against his chest as he looked up and beheld her in a simple black dress that was more tasteful than the one from the week before. It must have been provided in her closet. Noah couldn’t help but wonder what she wore beneath it.
Of course, he was also enamored with her hair, which she had pulled back above her ear with ebony barrettes. Although Noah was quite acquainted with her face by now, he wasn’t as familiar with the way her hair framed it when pulled back into such a youthful look. Wasn’t she cold? She didn’t even have a sweater, and here Noah was, slightly shivering in his full three-piece suit. He hadn’t bothered to change since coming back from a video conference with the CEO of his company. Why would he? This was a semi-formal affair on his private balcony.
“Good evening, Ms. Craig.” Noah had intended to help her into her seat, but Lucy was too fast for him. When she showed the first signs of having a chill, Noah asked, “Are you cold?”
“I… thought it might be a bit warmer today. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because the sun was shining on my balcony earlier when I did yoga. Oh, don’t worry.” She stood back up again. “I can go get a sweater.”
“No, no.” Noah intercepted her before she disappeared through the doors again. “Here.” He removed his own jacket and draped it across her shoulders. Lucy didn’t shove her arms through the sleeves, but she relaxed before him, a sense of grateful candor crossing her fair face.
“Thank you.” A bit of blush colored her cheeks. “I wasn’t expecting something like this tonight. When I got your text about dressing nice, I thought we might be going back into the city. Not that there’s anything wrong with this.” She returned to the small bistro table, where she finally allowed Noah to seat her. “It’s beautiful out here.”
“It’s also your first time seeing my room, isn’t it?”
“I didn’t see a bed back there.”
“My room is fewer than thirty seconds from here.” Noah had once counted how long it took to get from his balcony to his bedroom. Sometimes, things were truly that urgent. “You walked through my personal living room just now.”
“I… did?” Lucy looked toward the doors the exact moment one of the maids arrived with their salad course. “Huh. Looked like a random room to me.”
“I don’t use it much,” Noah admitted, before thanking the maid. “If I’m not in my bedroom proper, I’m in my office. If not there, the dining room. If notthere…”
Lucy sank into her metal chair. “My bedroom?”
Only she could ask that so drolly andnotget a rise out of him anymore. “Yes. Your bedroom.”Which used to be my bedroom.Did Lucy know that? Did it mean anything to her if she did?If she knew what happened in a room where we have sex…How amazing was it that Noah had managed to forget most of that before Lucy consumed his thoughts? “I spend a lot of time there lately, don’t I?”
“Not today, so far.”
“Miss me already, do you?”
Lucy leaned an elbow against the table. She had yet to pick up her salad fork. She also didn’t turn down a glass of the wine Noah poured. “When a girl gets used to a certain moment during the day… she might miss it when it’s gone.”
He lifted his glass in a toast. “Here’s to hoping it’s a grateful ache.”
That made her laugh as she responded to his toast with a raise of her own glass. “You’re a riot, Mr. Gabriel. Do you know that?”
“Please…” He caught the glint in her eyes as he lowered his glass. “Call me Noah.”
“Noah.” The way Lucy tested his name on her tongue was heavenly. “Nope. Still pretty weird, considering I’ve been calling youmisterthis whole time. You better start calling me Lucy. You know. So we’re even?”
That sounded as preposterous to him as the other way around must have sounded preposterous to her. “Lucy.” Noah was about to pick up his fork when he remembered the tablet. “You’ll never guess what I’ve been slowly reading this past week.”
Lucy attempted to say a few suggestions, but every time she went for it, she fell into a boast of laughter. “I can’t decide,” she said. “It’s either something super pretentious, or something like Kim Kardashian’s autobiography.”
“Does she have one?” Noah asked. “Don’t know. That could be interesting.”
“What are you reading?”
Noah turned the screen back on and cleared his throat. His bookmark was left at such a pivotal, studious moment that he almost had the passage memorized. While that would have delighted Lucy, to be sure, Noah wasn’t the kind of man to boast – regardless of the inane talent.
