“What time is it?” I grumbled, tugging the covers over my head to block out the light. Usually, I slept well into the day, but Scott’s movements roused me.

Scott.

I jolted upright, reaching for him. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

Sleep still fogged my mind, slowing my thoughts. But the panic that knifed through me at the prospect of his sudden departure was sharp enough to make me gasp.

He smiled down at me and pressed his hand to my shoulder, guiding me back onto the pillow. “I’m going to my hotel to change.”

“You got a hotel room?”

His smile tugged up at one corner. “I wasn’t sure where I’d be sleeping last night.” He leaned down and kissed my cheek. “I’m going for a run, and then I’ll come back. I’m sure you’d like to sleep in.”

“I’d rather spend time with you.” I didn’t want to lose sight of Scott. “How long will you be in York?”

His expression fell slightly. “I have to get the four o’clock train down south.”

Down south. Of course he wasn’t going to share his destination with me.

My heart sank. We only had a few hours left before he’d have to leave. Then, he’d disappear from my life. I might never see him again.

His presence in York was a miracle, one I’d never expected to be granted. I’d thought of him for months, and now, I’d shared another beautiful night with him. Although I knew he’d be gone again soon, I couldn’t stop myself from begging him to spend more time with me.

When I was with him, I wasn’t alone in the world. I couldn’t let him go. Not until I absolutely had to.

I’d face the emotional fallout later.

“Don’t go for a run,” I beseeched. “Just come back here.”

He stroked my hair back from my forehead. “Okay. I’ll be here in an hour.”

I nodded my agreement. That would give me time to shower and get ready for the day.

“I know a place where we can get a great fry up. Coffee Culture makes the best English breakfast in York.” I couldn’t wait to share more of my city with Scott. We might not have many hours left together, but I’d make the most of them.

“Great.” He beamed at me. “I’ll see you soon.”

I sighed softly as I watched him walk into the hallway to gather his clothes where we’d abandoned them last night. The few seconds it took him to cross the room didn’t give me nearly enough time to admire his ass.

When I heard the apartment door shut behind him, I finally emerged from bed and made my way to the bathroom so I could get ready. Giddy anticipation made my heart beat faster, as though I’d sprinted to get across town rather than simply walking through the flat. Scott had been gone for all of one minute, and already, I couldn’t wait to see him again.

“So, why England?” Scott asked as he cut into his Cumberland sausage. “You lived here for several years. What drew you here?”

My heart tugged with longing, but I chose to focus on my fond memories rather than falling into despair.

“Well, I traveled here when I was seventeen. It was my first archaeological dig. I spent three summers at the same field school, studying an Iron Age hillfort. That was actually in Wales, not England, but it was run by the University of York. I fell in love, so I decided to study abroad in York for a semester during undergrad.”

His brows drew together. “You fell in love with the U.K.?”

“No, I mean I actually fell in love. With an archaeologist who lived in York. We dated long-distance, but studying at the university gave me the opportunity to spend several months with him. And yes, that’s when I fell in love with the city. It’s why I came back for my postgrad studies.”

“This man you fell in love with. That was your husband?”

I tried not to flinch at the mention of Thomas. “No.” I swallowed the sour tang on my tongue. “I met Thomas during my Masters year. Arran and I had broken up for a long time before that. He’s actually one of my best friends now.”

Scott’s face became impassive. “You stayed friends with your ex. Are you still friends with your ex-husband?”

“No,” I said, schooling my own face to a blank mask. I never wanted to talk to Thomas again. I didn’t have anything nice to say, so I’d prefer to say nothing at all. Really, I hoped I’d never see him again. I could only pray I wouldn’t bump into him around York, as vain as that hope may be.

“Anyway,” I moved on with a dismissive wave, “I met most of my York friends through archaeology. I’ve known them for nearly thirteen years now. Which is crazy to think about. I can’t believe I’m thirty.”

I can’t believe I’m starting my life over at thirty.

I forced a polite smile. “How old are you?” I truly was curious. I couldn’t quite pinpoint Scott’s age. When he smiled, he didn’t look much older than me. But when his eyes took on that haunted light, he aged a decade.

“Thirty-seven.”

“You’re thirty-seven, you’re from Colorado, your name is Scott.” I ticked off the facts on my fingers with a teasing smile. “You still know a lot more about me than I know about you.”

He grasped my hand and laced his fingers through mine. “I like learning more about you. I’d like to spend more time together after breakfast, if you’re free.”

“I am,” I said, probably more eagerly than I should have. “I can write this evening. That’s one of the best things about my career: I can make my own schedule.”

“I love that,” he said, his small smile belying the intensity in his eyes. “It’s great that you love your career.”

I do the things I do so people like you can be safe and live the lives they want. I remembered what he’d said that night in Nashville. He put his life on the line so I could be free and happy, so I could live in a safe bubble while he risked everything to protect people like me.

The knowledge was overwhelming. It made me feel insignificant and a little unworthy.

I squeezed his hand. “Thank you.” I was thanking him for so much more than the kind comment about my career.

He cleared his throat. “So, what do you want to do today? I’d love to see more of the city.”

I grinned, genuinely excited to share my love of York with him. “We should start with Stonegate. It’s my favorite street in town. Then the Minster, I think, and we can go to lunch on The Shambles after. If we have time, we can do Clifford’s Tower and the Yorkshire Museum.”

He returned my smile, his eyes glinting with pleasure. “Sounds great.”

We paid the bill and made our way down the crooked, narrow stairs to get back to street level. When we stepped out into the sunlight, Scott caught my hand again. He held it as we walked through the city, as though the intimate contact was the most natural thing in the world.

It did feel natural, comfortable. It also made me very aware of his nearness, and the way his big hand enveloped mine reminded me of how much stronger he was, how his body covered mine when he drove his cock inside my wet and willing sex…

“Are you too warm?” he asked.

I could feel my cheeks heating. Damn my rosy skin for giving away my thoughts so easily.

“A little,” I said, deciding to slip out of my jacket. The spring air helped cool my heated skin. “This is Stonegate,” I announced.

We’d arrived at the western end of the ancient street. Medieval shop fronts jutted along the road in a drunken line, dark wooden beams sagging from age. The Minster wasn’t visible here, but the golden edifice would peek between the buildings as we made our way down the paved path.

“Why is it your favorite street?” Scott asked as we began to walk.

“The view is amazing, for one. Just wait until we get to the Ye Olde Starre Inne pub. You’ll see.”

We meandered down the street, walking slowly so we could take in the beauty of the city. I’d seen this view countless times, but it never ceased to amaze me. Sharing it with someone was especially satisfying. Watching their appreciation was almost as magical as experiencing the city for the first time myself.

“Wow,” Scott said with a smile, his head tilted up to take in the view.

A black iron banner emblazoned with Ye Olde Starre Inne in gold lettering spanned the width of the street above our heads. Ahead, the buildings that lined the street wound gently to the left, revealing the first glimpse of the Minster. It shined so brightly in the morning light that the stone appeared almost pearly white.

“It’s a beautiful cathedral,” he remarked.

“Minster,” I declared.

“What’s the difference?” He seemed genuinely curious rather than affronted that I’d corrected him.

“It’s the title given to churches established in the Anglo-Saxon period. The origins of York Minster date back to the seventh century. Even cooler: it’s built on top of what used to be the heart of the Roman fortress, so excavations beneath the Minster have revealed some really fascinating Roman archaeology. There’s a Roman column set up in the square ahead.”

A wide smile split his features, but he didn’t say anything.

“What?” I asked, a bit self-conscious.

“You’re a really passionate person.”

I shifted on my feet, nervous that he might be mocking me for my nerdy enthusiasm. “Oh. Sorry, I don’t mean to bore you with all the history stuff. I just think it’s cool.”

“I love that you’re passionate.” He allayed my mounting discomfiture. “And it is cool. Tell me more about York. I don’t know anything about the city or its history.”

“Be careful what you ask for; I’ll talk your ear off.”

His smile broadened. “Talk away. I like hearing what you have to say.”

Again, I was struck by the sense that he was completely focused on me. When he looked at me so intently, I could believe that he really did find me fascinating.

“Well, if you’re sure. I can give you a tour of the Minster when we get to the end of the street.”

“I’m sure. I’d love to learn more about it.”

“Oh, wait.” I paused. “Do you mind if I take a look in this window? I love this place.”

He glanced at the shop sign. “Cavendish Antiques?” he said with a wry smile. “What is it you like about it? The jewelry or the history behind it?”

“Both. I love holding pieces of history. Knowing that the piece meant something to someone who lived in the past is incredible. You have to wonder what their lives were like. What their hopes and dreams were. If they were happy. Also, I like all the shiny,” I joked to cut the weight of my words.

He stepped up beside me, surveying the glittering contents of the window display. “What’s your favorite piece?”

“I love the Edwardian pendants.” I pointed at a particularly lovely white gold necklace. The intricate curves of the metal recalled the appearance of a chandelier, accentuated by the oblong freshwater pearls that dripped from it. It was smaller than some of the other pieces, more understated. “I’ve had my eye on this one for ages,” I admitted. “It’s been here for a couple years.”

“What do you like about it?”

“It’s elegant. I’ve been looking for a unique necklace I can wear every day, and this would be perfect. I used to wear an antique key every day, but I…I don’t wear it anymore.” I cut off what I was going to say. Scott didn’t need to know about that.

He was watching me too intently for me to escape his scrutiny. “Why not?”

I cut my eyes away. “My husband gave it to me,” I said in an undertone. “It was a symbol of our relationship. It meant I belonged to him.” I lifted my chin and met Scott’s blue gaze, feeling suddenly defiant. “I want a necklace that means I belong to myself. Something I can wear every day and know that I’m free.”

He studied me in silence for a long moment. “You should get this one,” he finally said.

I shook my head. “It’s too extravagant. I’ll keep looking.” I stepped away from the window, suddenly uncomfortable. I’d revealed far too much. I wanted this day to be carefree; I wanted a beautiful day with Scott that I could cherish once he disappeared from my life again.

“Let’s get to the Minster,” I urged, tugging him back onto the street.

He didn’t resist or press me to talk about my pain. When we got into the Minster, he mostly let me chatter at him about the history of the church, asking the occasional insightful question. After a while, my cheerfulness returned, and I moved past the awkward, intense moment in front of the antique store. When I was with Scott, I was able to forget about my worries. Being in his presence was intoxicating. I didn’t want him to leave.

I didn’t allow myself to think about his impending departure. Instead, I chose to live in the moment with him.