Camila has lived and worked all her life in Hawthorne Manorhouse. It's all she's ever known along with the kindness shown by her boss after her mom's death. But now she's gone too and her future is uncertain.
The Manorhouse is to be inherited by som...
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The moment she sits down right next to me, I calm down.
Derisory, right? To be nervous about something as simple as spending time with her. But I am. Fucking terrified.
I've been wanting this for a while, to spend time with her properly. I know what I remember other than what I learned recently. She is a hardworking woman with a Biology degree. And for some reason, she still prefers to stick around.
But I can't help but want to know more and use that as an excuse to spend time with her.
"Why are we here?"
"Because," I answer.
The basket's top lifts and I start taking out and spreading the contents over the blanket. After a couple of minutes of cuddles, Primrose tucked herself next to my left and fell asleep. I don't blame her. We walked for a good half an hour, in which she kept running around like crazy.
"I thought the goal was to have the day for yourself, responsibility-free."
"And it is," I agree. "With you."
Her eyes widen and finally meet mine as a light blush creeps up her neck.
Adorable.
We keep looking at each other, in silence, the tension between us rising once again. My eyes flicker to her lips more times than they should. It's going to be hard to resist the temptation to give in to carnal desires. But I shall.
I want this to be different. I don't want her to think that all I care about is sex - even if it is amazing and addicting. For her to understand that she deserves more and I would give it to her if I could, it's crucial for me.
For what reason I don't know.
"Have you eaten today?"
"Not yet, the fact that the manor was empty distracted me."
"Good thing I told you to prepare some food for brunch," I smirk.
Two containers with different kinds of sliced fruits. I open them, as well as the one containing the cheese and salami to go with the bread. Then, open the bread paper bag and grab two slices.
At the sight of me doing it, Camilla rushes forward, trying to take the slices out of my hands but I dodge her.
"I'll prepare everything, Your Grace."
"Little Milla, I am a duke but I am not invalid. You're here to spend time with me, not serve me."
With that, I prepare her a sandwich and hand it to her on a napkin, before doing the same to me.
"Thank you," she mutters shyly.
She picks at the bread, eating extremely slowly, while awkwardly looking around. The site is, in fact, beautiful and my dad often brought me here when we visited. Yesterday, when I yearned to spend some quality time with her, this felt like the perfect site.
