Page 87 of From Notting Hill with Love…Actually
“Why? You know I would have if I could. I wouldn’t have just left you stranded up there all alone.”
“No, I mean…oh, I don’t know what I mean, Sean. I just needed to prove something to myself.”
“Let me try proving it to you another way.” Sean released the note from his fingers and we both watched it flutter down on to the carpet. Then in perfect unison, our faces lifted to look at each other once more. Sean reached up his hand and gently stroked my cheek with his fingers. I felt my eyes close at his touch—it was almost too much to bear.Pullaway, Scarlett. Pull away now!a tiny voice inside me urged.Beforesomethinghappensyou’ll regret!Now Sean was cupping my face in his hands…But I didn’t want to pull away. I wanted Sean to kiss me. I wanted to know what it felt like to have his lips on mine, to taste him, to—
There was a knock at the door.
My eyes snapped open as our heads both spun toward the intruding noise—then back toward each other again.
Sean shook his head. “Don’t look at me. I don’t know. We didn’t get around to ordering any room service in the end, did we?”
“Well, I have no idea,” I said, staring wildly at him. “It’s your room!”
Sean took a look through the peephole. His expression was puzzled as he pulled open the door.
“Bonsoir, monsieur,” a waiter said. He was carrying a tray laden with champagne, chocolates, cakes, and pastries.
“I didn’t order this,” Sean said, looking even more confused. “You must have the wrong room.”
A smarter-looking man wearing a suit and carrying a huge arrangement of flowers followed the waiter into the room. “Excuse our intrusion so late in the evening, sir, madam,”he said, nodding at me as he placed his flowers on the table. “Allow me to introduce myself—I am Francois, the duty manager.” He gave a small bow. “These,” he said, waving his hand over the tray of food and the vase of flowers, “are with the compliments of the hotel. We were unaware when you booked with us that you were on your honeymoon.”
“But…”
“It was only when two of our elderly guests informed us earlier tonight of some strange goings-on in our honeymoon suite that we realized our mistake, as we have no one staying in the suite at present. When they mentioned this room number, and said you had just got married, we felt we had to do something special for you. There will, of course, also be a champagne breakfast for you both in the morning, again with our compliments.”
Sean looked at me in astonishment.
I shrugged.
“Er…thank you, Francois,” Sean began to say, “but I really think I should explain—”
“What my husband is trying to say, Francois,” I quickly interrupted, “is that it is most kind of you to spoil us in this way, and we are very grateful, of course, to both yourself and the hotel.”
“It is our greatest pleasure, madam.Bonappétit.” Francois gave another little bow. “Come along, Tomas.” He beckoned to the waiter.
Tomas obediently followed Francois. They paused at the door and wished us a good evening before quietly closing it behind them.
“Well,” Sean said, looking at the tray in front of him. “What on earth gave them the idea we were newlyweds?”
“Beats me,” I said innocently. “But let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth, eh? Come on, Sean, this looks lovely. Let’s tuck in.”
Sean hesitated.
I hoped he wasn’t going to mention what had happened—or what was just about to happen before Tomas and Francois had arrived.
“Not hungry?” I asked, picking up a plate and placing one of the cakes on it. “Can’t I persuade you into something a little bit naughty but nice?”
I blushed when I realized what I’d said.
Sean grinned. “You almost did, Scarlett,” he said, coming over to the table and picking up the bottle of champagne. “And I’m sure it would have been an awful lot nicer than any of these cream cakes are ever going to be.”
Twenty-Five
After we had eaten all of the chocolates, most of the cakes,andhad drunk all of the champagne, Sean and I sat propped up against the bed on the thick soft carpet feeling a little tipsy. Well, I was anyway; I wasn’t too sure about Sean, but he was grinning more than he usually did, so I took that as a sign of possible inebriation.
Nothing more had been said about what had happened before Francois and Tomas had shown up, and I was glad. My life was complicated enough without adding Sean as anything more than just a friend into the mix.
“So,” Sean said, tipping his empty champagne glass upside down. “What now?”
