Page 2 of Wilder at Heart
‘Welcome to Cambridge. How are you enjoying Emma?’
I’m not so far gone with lust and visions of marriage that I can’t remember Emma is Emmanuel, so I squeak out a replyin the vicinity of his ear. His voice is exactly as I would have imagined. Entitled, obviously (my most overused word since arriving here), and cultured, and sexy as hell. I suspect he can hardly hear me. He moves back and begins to dance with us, and I can barely believe my luck.
I stick close to Elle as the music changes, like she’ll keep me safe from this dangerous man with his dangerous face and body and smell and voice and way of annunciating my name. But Theo isn’t deterred. He dances, and damn if the boy doesn’t haverhythm.
Of course he does.
I bet he does everything well.
I bet he does things well that I barely even know exist.
Things that require rhythm.
Although Elle and some of the other girls are dancing right next to us, Theo is moving in on me. I shoot Elle a panicked look and she laughs. She looks tickled pink.
‘Be careful of my cousin,’ she shouts in my ear. ‘He’s gorgeous, but he’s a total player.’
Got it. Got it. A total player. Right. This guy would chew me up and spit me out before I could even—He’s out of my league. Not just in terms of looks, but in terms of the stuff he knows. The stuff he’d expect from me. I can tell.
The music shifts to Rudimental’sFeel the Love, and it’s so impossiblenotto feel the love with that song that I let go a bit more. I let my arms drift over my head and I go for it. And Theo moves closer to me. His forehead is beaded with sweat. His hair is growing damp. He swipes it off his face with his hand and the neon pink scrotum smudges a bit. But I don’t laugh, because his eyes are on me, roaming over my bare legs and stomach, and they lookhungry.
As our bodies move in time with the music, his leg edges between mine, and those ridiculously preppy white jeans don’t mask the fact that his thigh is muscled and gorgeous.
He puts his mouth to my ear.
‘Nora. I fancy some air. Come outside with me?’
Theo takesme by the hand and gently leans me against the stone wall of Plodge. Plodge is short for the Porter’s Lodge, and I’d be hard-pressed to think of a less sexy word. But suddenly it’s the sexiest word, the sexiest place, ever.
Because I’m hemmed in by one gorgeous forearm, its bicep cuffed to perfection by his white t-shirt. Away from the ultra-violet lights, I can appreciate the view properly. Especially because Theo’s face is inches from mine.
‘You know you have a penis on your forehead, right?’ I ask, to deflect from the fact that my heart is beating in my throat. I have a pretty good idea why we’re out here, and sure, I’ve snogged guys before, but this guy is a different species from the boys I’ve been with.
That heart-stopping, panty-melting grin again. ‘I’m aware. Some people might say it’s appropriate.’
I feign shock. ‘Surely not.’
‘Nora, Nora, Nora.’ His free hand comes up to stroke along my jawline. ‘Has anyone ever told you you have the eyes of a Disney princess?’
While approximately eighty-four percent of my brain is doing inner eye-rolls and laughing at the lameness of his lines, I’m ashamed to say sixteen percent is eating. It. Up.
‘Nope.’
‘Tough crowd, aren’t you? Well, you do. They’re enormous. I’ve never seen eyes that big and gorgeous before.’
‘Sure you haven’t.’
‘I’d call you Cinders, but I’m sure you’re not a total doormat like she was. How about Belle?’
He’s moving closer, his eyes sweeping from mine to my mouth and back again, giving me the perfect opportunity to note how brown and liquid his are.
‘Uh, Belle has brown eyes,’ I squeak.
‘You’re right. Yours are more like Cinders. Huge and blue-green. But Belle’s got long, brown hair. Like you. And she’s a total badass. Which I can tell you are. And given you made it as far as Cambridge, I’m pretty confident you know whatbellemeans. So I think it’s the perfect name for you.’
His thumb moves from my jaw, ghosting over my skin till it traces the underside of my bottom lip.
‘Whatever you say, Mr?—’
