Chapter 4

We're born with millions

Of little lights shining in our hearts

And they show us the way

One lights up every time we feel love in our hearts

One dies when it moves away

- All the Little Lights, Passenger

When I arrived home, I stood in the foyer for a moment, hugging Will's coat around me as my mind raced. Despite my assertions of the afternoon that I wouldn't get involved, it had taken only a few hours for my heart to soften toward him. Why did he have to be so intelligent, kind, protective, and charming?

I shook my head and quickly shrugged out of the blazer that smelled too wonderful – too much like him - and hung it on the top peg of the coat rack so it would be safe from Moriarty's claws. I kicked off my sandals and hung my purse on one of the lower pegs. Moriarty, who was perched on the hall table just inside the doorway, greeted me with narrowed, golden eyes and an accusatory meow. I scooped him up and carried him to the living room, where I collapsed onto the couch, hugging him against my chest.

"Well, Moriarty, that was interesting." I nuzzled the cat's soft, furry neck. He meowed his agreement. Shifting the cat to the cushion beside me, I leaned forward, grabbed my laptop from its place on the coffee table, and settled back into the cushions. I opened the internet browser and typed "Will Darcy" into the search bar. The search returned hundreds of results. I clicked on the image tab, and within seconds, Will's handsome face stared back at me.

The genuine smile I had witnessed several times over the past two days was displayed in very few photos – mainly those which were obviously from professional photoshoots and some with a tall, beautiful blonde girl, who was identified in cut lines as his sister, Georgiana. Although most of the photos were of Will by himself, many also included beautiful women, - actresses and models, I assumed, many of whom I recognized – posed with him. I couldn't help but notice that those women – all just as beautiful as Will himself - looked like they belonged by his side. Like they deserved to be there.

Feeling uncomfortably stalkerish, I returned to the main search page and scanned through the web results. There were links to dozens of articles, and to his social media pages as well. One article, entitled 'Will Darcy, anti-social elitist,' written by a man named George Wickham caught my eye. I clicked the link and began to read.

"Darcy Enterprises C.E.O., Will Darcy, was notably absent from several charity events this season. Although society has come to expect such from the anti-social elitist, Darcy's blatant snub of these charitable endeavors provides more proof of his misanthropic stance on several prominent social issues."

The article continued in the same vein for several paragraphs. I returned to the main search result page and scrolled through more article titles. Most of the stories were about Will's acting career, his work with Darcy Enterprises, and his charitable undertakings. A few articles, however, appeared to echo the same tone as the first one I had read, casting him in an unfavorable light, at least as he was perceived socially. In addition to these were several more articles by the author George Wickham, all of them brutally slandering in nature.

I puffed out my cheeks and released a long breath as I clicked on the link to Will's Facebook page. It was a typical celebrity social media page with numerous posts from fans. It looked as if Will himself posted very little. My impromptu internet search was beginning to make me feel like a creeper. I shook my head and quickly closed the laptop before placing it back on the coffee table.

Scrubbing my hands over my face, I rolled onto my side, pulled my phone out of my back pocket, and opened my Facebook app. Although I rarely posted anything on social media, I checked it daily to keep up with my sisters. I tapped the notification icon and scrolled through the alerts. Jane had tagged me in several posts – an annoying habit of hers. I had a few new friend requests as well, including one from a user identified only as "F.A.D." There was no profile picture. Curious, I clicked on the profile link. That didn't help much either; the page was private, and no information or photos were visible. Just then, my text tone sounded. The message was from Will.

"Elizabeth, I hope you don't mind, but I've sent you a Facebook friend request."

Aha, that solved the identity mystery. "Well, that clears that up," I replied. "By the way, just curious, what does 'F.A.D.' stand for?"

"It's my private page that I use for family and close friends, and, as I'm sure you can imagine, maintaining privacy can be a bit difficult. 'F.A.D.' are my initials."

My forehead scrunched in confusion. "What does the 'F' stand for? I assumed your first name is William."

"I'm named for my mother's family. William is short for Fitzwilliam. Fitzwilliam Alexander Darcy."

I glanced up at the ceiling, repeating the name to myself. It suited him. "I like it, it's unique," I typed in response. "It works for you."

"Thank you," Will responded. "So, will you grant my request?"

I bit my tongue and smiled. "*Sigh* I suppose."

Will responded with a facepalm emoji.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Will."

"Goodnight, Elizabeth," he returned.

I closed the text app and returned to my Facebook notifications. I hit the accept button for Will's friend request and was directed to his profile page. This time, dozens of posts and hundreds of photos appeared. I selected the photo tab and scrolled through the images. Several showed Will with an attractive blond man tagged as Charles Bingley, while there were others of him with various family members and friends, including his sister and the cousin he had spoken of, Richard Fitzwilliam. After looking through the photos for a few minutes, I checked the time. It was ten-thirty. I forced myself to turn my phone off and headed to bed.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

The next morning, I was waiting on the park bench in front of my building when Will's car pulled up at eight-thirty, sharp. He leaned over to open the passenger door from his place in the driver's seat as I approached. "Good morning," I cheerfully greeted as I slid into the vehicle.

"Ey up, me duck," Will replied.

I paused and eyed him narrowly. "What on earth did you just say to me? Did you say duck?"

He flashed me a grin in response.

I crossed my arms over my chest and pursed my lips. "Okay, you're doing it on purpose, now."

He laughed. "It means hello, more or less."

I shook my head and closed my eyes. "Subtitles," I hissed under my breath.

"Relax, I'm only having a bit of fun. I see you're a morning person as well," he commented.

"Yep." He looked comfortable and very handsome in a pair of casual, khaki cargo shorts and a navy-blue t-shirt that stretched tightly across his chest and biceps, accentuating his muscular build. I swallowed hard. "You look nice." That was putting it mildly; he looked like he'd just stepped off the cover of Men's Fitness.

He raised a hand to rub the back of his neck. "You look quite lovely as well," he replied, glancing down at my white and gray striped tank top and denim shorts. His eyes lingered a moment on my hair, which I'd left down, and then dropped to my legs before he seemed to realize he was staring. His face bronzed. "You really do look beautiful," his voice trailed off.

I bowed my head shyly. "Thanks." Will was still looking at me when I glanced up again. "Alright," I directed, getting down to business, "turn left and go west until you hit Thirteenth Street."

"Did you sleep well?" he asked as he pulled away from the curb and into traffic.

"Yes, actually. And you?" I returned.

A corner of his mouth lifted in a rueful smile. "Not as well as I would have liked. I had to return Charles's call, so I didn't get to sleep until late, and then, a girl I know didn't have the courtesy to stay out of my dreams."

I scoffed and put a hand up as if to block his comment. "This girl and your dreams have no business together," I teased. Will reached up to grab my raised hand and intertwined his fingers with my own. My breath caught in my throat.

He threw a glance my way and raised a single brow, his eyes doing a smoldery thing that made the butterflies in my stomach start acting like they'd been hitting up an open bar all night long.

I swallowed with some effort and turned my attention to the street signs. "Thirteenth Street is coming up. You'll need to turn left," I managed to say.

Without releasing my hand, Will maneuvered the vehicle across the empty traffic lanes and onto the correct road. "Where do we go from here?" he asked.

I wasn't sure if he was referring to directions to the zoo or something else entirely. "It's only a few miles up the road," I replied.

"What's your favorite exhibit at the zoo?" he asked, as he lowered our still-joined hands to rest on the center console.

I relaxed in my seat, cautiously allowing myself to enjoy the warmth and security of his strong hand holding mine. I looked down at our intertwined fingers, taking a moment to think about my answer before replying. Will absently began to trace circles on the inside of my palm with his thumb. The sensation created by the simple action was so intense that it made the nerves in my wrist ache.

He gently squeezed my hand. "Elizabeth? Are you alright?"

Oh yes, yes, I most certainly was. A little too much so, actually. "Sorry, what was the question?" I managed to ask, my voice a little rough.

Will smirked as if he knew exactly what his touch was doing to my nervous system. "I asked you what your favorite exhibit is at the zoo."

I felt the heat of the blush that overtook me then, to the tips of my toes. "I-I'd have to say it's a tie between the Lied Jungle and the Kingdoms of the Night exhibit," I answered, looking up at his handsome profile.

He nodded. "I'm looking forward to seeing it. I looked up some pictures and information about it this morning before I picked you up."

I bit my lip, remembering my own impromptu web search from the night before. There was no way I was going to admit to that, however. I caught sight of the giant glass sphere of the Desert Dome, just to the left of the road. "This is it. Just go ahead and turn in right up there," I directed, pointing to the parking lot entrance.

Will found a parking spot within a few hundred yards of the zoo's entrance. We walked up to the massive gates and I showed my membership card to the attendant, who stamped both of our hands and let us through. Luckily, due to the early hour, the zoo was fairly empty. We made our way to the Lied Jungle first because it was closest.

"Welcome to the world's largest indoor rainforest," I whispered to Will as we stepped into the enormous, brightly lit building that housed a small rainforest, complete with real trees, vegetation, fish, animals, birds, caves, ponds, a river, and even waterfalls.

"This is beautiful," he observed as we walked through the treetop pathway around the perimeter of the forest.

When we reached the rope suspension bridge that passed in front of a waterfall, his eyes lit up.

I laughed at his eager expression. "C'mon, let's cross."

Will stepped onto the bridge first. There was no one behind us, so he stopped in the middle to look down at the fish and hippopotamuses in the river below. He turned and reached out to plunge his hand into the waterfall that cascaded down a rock face on his opposite side before he pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Smile, Elizabeth," he murmured.

I turned toward him and studied his handsome face. He looked happy and light-hearted, and that, in turn, made me happy. I felt one of the long-extinguished little lights in my heart flicker back to life. Forgetting about the picture, I smiled at him. After the camera flashed, I blinked. "Do you want me to take one of you?" I offered, holding my hand out for his phone.

Will held it up, out of my reach. "No, but I'd like to take one with you if you don't mind. Come here." He reached out and put his arm around my shoulders, carefully drawing me close, against his side. I held my breath and smiled while he held his phone up with his free hand and snapped a picture of the two of us. Without releasing me from the half-embrace he held me in, he lowered his phone and brought the image up on the screen, holding it between us so I could see it as well.

As I stared at the photo, the disparities between the two of us struck a chord in my heart. Will was a beautiful person. Tall, muscular, lean, and gorgeous, he was the poster child for masculine perfection. I looked so small and out of place, standing next to him. The humidity of the rainforest had done a number on my hair as well, and it cascaded over my shoulders in long, thick, wild waves, down to my waist, making me look even smaller – a far cry from the statuesque, beautiful women he'd been pictured with in the online photos I'd seen the night before.

I shook my head to clear the self-deprecating thoughts from my mind and took a step back to put some distance between us. A few people appeared on the path behind us, waiting for us to move so they could take their turn on the bridge. Will followed as I crossed the remainder of the bridge and stepped onto the damp floor of the cave that wound behind the waterfalls.

As the morning progressed, the zoo filled with people. The crowds were especially dense inside the airconditioned indoor exhibits, thanks to the stifling heat outdoors. Each time we found ourselves in a large group of people, the eyes of nearly every person in the vicinity were drawn to Will, causing his shoulders and jaw to tense.

By the time we reached the Kingdoms of the Night exhibit, I started to feel sorry for him. He seemed genuinely stressed out as we slowly made our way through the semi-darkness at the back of a large crowd. It was too dark to see anything but the silhouettes of those around us. When we reached the caves, he took a deep, measured breath.

"You okay?" I asked, concerned.

"Caves make me nervous," Will replied.

"Caves, crowds, and restaurants. Got it." I nudged him playfully with my elbow.

He took the opportunity to reach for my hand and breathed a sigh of contentment as his fingers wrapped around my own. "Such is the beast that is social anxiety."

"Better?" I asked with a sympathetic smile, squeezing his hand.

He looked down at me. "Much."

Only the sound of our footsteps on the rock floor and the hushed flapping of hundreds of bat wings broke the silence as we walked through the eerily quiet cave.

"So, Miss Bennet," Will whispered, "what's the difference between stalagmites and stalactites?"

"The word stalagmite has the letter 'g' in it, and forms on the ground. 'G' for ground," I explained. "The word stalactite has the letter 'c' in it, and forms on the ceiling. 'C' for ceiling. But you probably already knew that."

A short burst of laughter escaped Will's mouth, causing the people in front of us to turn and stare, as much as the darkness would permit, anyway. He cleared his throat and leaned down to whisper close to my ear. "Actually, that's one thing I've never been able to keep straight. That's a clever way to remember them though."

"Me, either," I replied. "I lost a game of Trivial Pursuit because of that question a couple of years ago and figured out a way to remember the answer so I wouldn't get it wrong again."

He laughed softly and drew me a little closer to his side. Eventually, we reached the enormous underground cavern that boasted a seventy-foot-high rock dome. "Wow," Will said simply, staring up at the thin rays of sunlight that filtered through the cracks at the top of the massive chamber.

"Pretty cool, eh?" I smiled, thrilled that he was enjoying himself.

He nodded. "Brilliant."

We eventually entered the swamp portion of the exhibit – my personal favorite. "Watch your step," I warned, nodding toward the slightly uneven boardwalk with rope railings that wound its way through an underground swamp, complete with alligators and crocodiles. The only light came from the surface of the water, making the nocturnal exhibits and the boardwalk just visible in the darkness. The air was filled with the sounds of bullfrogs and crickets.

"Frogs?" Will asked in surprise.

"And crocodiles and snapping turtles, oh, my!" I whispered. "They're fun to catch, you know." I felt his stare before I even looked up to meet his eyes. "I need to give you the complete Midwest experience. Me?" I pointed to myself with my free thumb. "Mad frog-catching skills, right here. Well, not here at the zoo, but you know, somewhere, sometime."

He squeezed my hand. "I look forward to that…I think."

Will was still holding my hand when we exited the exhibit and stepped, blinking into the bright, mid-day sunlight. I moved to release his hand, but he gripped mine a little more tightly. "Aren't you worried that someone will see?" I asked.

He looked down at me, his eyes searching my own. "Are you?"

I followed him as he stepped into an alcove next to the concrete steps that led up to the sidewalk. "Only if you are. I wouldn't want to put you in an uncomfortable position," I explained.

"Nor I, you," he sighed. Instead of releasing my hand, he opened his palm and looked down at mine, as if studying it. "Your hands are so small," he gave a slight shake of his head.

I followed his gaze. He wasn't wrong. My hand rested in his open palm, my fingertips just reaching the knuckles at the middle of his fingers.

"Honestly, Elizabeth, anyone with eyes will easily be able to see the obvious and they'll draw their own conclusions. In this case, I feel that subterfuge can only do more harm than good. So, if you would permit it, and if you're comfortable with the idea, I'd like for us to make the most of our time together and use it to get to better know one another."

I stared thoughtfully at our joined hands. He had a valid point. Speculations would be made as long as we spent time together publicly, regardless if we held hands or not. And I wanted to spend time with Will, I couldn't deny that. After only three days, I found myself dangerously close to caring for him. Being with him and talking to him felt more than easy; it felt natural.

But to what end? He was leaving in a matter of weeks, and our time together would be a thing of the past. Just another heartbreaking memory to add to a list that was already too long. But what if I was wrong? What if this was the beginning of something wonderful for both of us? Was I judging him unfairly? I couldn't deny the connection we shared, and God, I loved talking to him. My mind came alive every time we conversed, and I'd never experienced anything quite like it with anyone else. Coming to a decision, I took a deep breath and slowly released it. I squeezed his hand with my own and nodded in reply. "I'd like that, too."

We continued our tour of the zoo, eventually making our way to the covered bridge in the lagoon. I stepped up on the bottom rung of the wooden railing to watch the antics of the koi that swam beneath the bridge, waiting to be fed by visitors. I stepped down from the rail and over to one of the fish food dispensers that lined the bridge and inserted a quarter, holding my free hand out underneath to catch the pellets. I handed half to Will and motioned for him to join me at the railing, where we stood together, tossing the food to the hungry denizens of the lagoon below us.

We watched the writhing mass of fish dart and wriggle to and fro, over and under their fellows to catch the food being thrown by zoo patrons in comfortable silence, content to just enjoy one another's company.

"Hey, are you Will Darcy?" a male voice exclaimed loudly from Will's opposite side.

I quickly hopped down from the railing and glanced around. Several other people had turned to look as well. My eyes moved to Will. His shoulders and jaw instantly tensed and the mask consisting of the controlled, polite expression that I had observed in the online photos descended, obscuring what had been an unguarded and happy countenance only a moment before. Will shook the man's extended hand. I found myself being forced backward by the small crowd that now swarmed around him. Not wanting to attract any further unwanted attention to him, I allowed myself to melt into the crowd. I pretended to look over the edge of the bridge, while I kept Will in sight.

Will looked down to his side where I had been standing a moment before. When he didn't see me, his forehead creased with concern and he looked for me in the crowd. When he located me, he threw me a questioning look. I smiled reassuringly back. His attention was distracted by a woman, asking for his autograph. A dozen more requests followed. After nearly twenty minutes of signing autographs and posing with fans for photos, he was finally able to disentangle himself from the crowd and make his way over to me.

"You didn't have to go, you know," he said, taking my hand in his and setting himself up as a shield between me and the crowd of onlookers as he hurriedly ushered me away from the bridge.

"I didn't mean to," I shrugged. "The crowd just kind of moved in and I found myself being moved right along with it, although in the opposite direction. I'm sorry."

He smiled. "Hmm. I'm the one who should apologize. Are you hungry?" he asked as we approached a hot dog stand.

"I could eat," I answered. We stepped up to the umbrella-shaded cart and placed our orders.

It was two o'clock after we'd finished our food. The heat, humidity, and crowds were becoming unbearable, so we decided to call it a day. I glanced up at Will as we approached his car in the parking lot. "Do you want to go to my place to cool off and have some lemonade?" I asked.

He turned his head sharply in my direction. "Oh, so I'm actually going to learn your flat number after all then, aye?" He stopped at the passenger side door and opened it for me.

"Don't read too much into it, mister," I winked as I slid into the seat

He rolled his eyes and shut the door before walking around to the driver's side. "I wouldn't dream of it, Elizabeth."

I rolled my eyes right back at him.

Traffic was sparse, so we reached home in a matter of minutes. As we walked through the building to my condo, I took the time to ponder the observations I had made of Will over the past few days. The man was a walking contradiction. Tentative, yet bold. Shy, but confident. He possessed perfect manners and social standing, but felt uncomfortable in social situations and preferred to avoid them, altogether. And yet, he had initiated a conversation with me the day we met. He could have just walked away after he'd helped me up, but he had stayed to make sure I was alright and had proceeded to take me out for ice cream, drive me home, and take me out for dinner the next day. I decided to ask him about it after we were settled inside.

When we reached my door, I quickly unlocked it and held it open for him. After I'd shut the door again, I slipped off my shoes and hung my purse on the coat rack. My eyes landed on his blazer, still hanging from the top peg.

"Don't forget to take your coat with you when you leave today," I reminded him.

He looked down at me, a smile in his eyes. "I won't." He took a few steps into the condo and looked around. "Your home is lovely," he observed, admiration apparent in his voice.

"Thank you. I designed it and did a lot of the work, myself."

He turned to look at me and smiled. "I look forward to the tour," he whispered, lightly brushing my cheek with his fingertips.

Unnerved by his touch, I quickly turned toward the library, motioning for him to follow me. "You're probably tired after dealing with all the crowds." I nodded toward one of the leather chairs by the fireplace. "Why don't you have a seat while I go get us some lemonade and cookies."

"I'm more than happy to help you," Will offered.

"I've got it," I assured him

He raised an eyebrow but took a seat.

I hurried into the kitchen, where I quickly plated some chocolate chip cookies and poured two glasses of lemonade. Gathering up the lemonade glasses, I precariously balanced the plate of cookies in the crook of my arm and made my way to the library.

Will stood when he saw me and reached out just in time to grab the plate of cookies before it fell to the floor.

"Thank you!" I exclaimed.

"Cat-like reflexes, me," he joked.

"Yeah, I wish I could say the same." I shook my head ruefully.

After we'd both settled into our chairs, I decided to get right down to it. "I have to be honest with you. I find you more than a little puzzling. For example, I've noticed that you're not exactly outgoing when it comes to people, yet you went out of your way to talk to me on Friday." I shook my head, my brow knit with confusion. "Why?"

Will set his lemonade glass down on the coffee table and looked at me, his expression thoughtful. He shook his head slightly. "It's difficult to explain. When you started to walk away, I felt a pull to follow you, almost as though I were being compelled to do so. At first, it was a feeling of protectiveness; I wanted to make sure you were alright. But the more we talked, the more comfortable I felt, and I wanted to keep the conversation going. I usually don't feel comfortable around others until I've known them for a while - years, in some cases - but I felt like I could be myself with you almost immediately."

He hesitated a moment, drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair. "You saw me. Not just the outer wrapping that the world sees," he gestured to his ridiculous body and gorgeous face, "but the real me underneath. And it wasn't until you got to know the real me that you decided I was worth your time. That I was someone worthy of really seeing and understanding.

"Everything I told you last night – about my sister and my family – I wouldn't dream of disclosing that information to just anyone. I can't, however, bring myself to regret doing so. After confiding in you, I felt as though a great weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I'm having a difficult time explaining it to myself, to be perfectly honest. Why do you ask?"

"I've been trying to sketch your character, but the differing accounts I've heard of you make it a challenge, to say the least. Some of the articles I've read in the past, label you a recluse who's too proud to socialize, while others extoll your virtues. You're an enigma." I shrugged.

Will leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. "I hope to afford you more clarity in the future."

I smiled. "I would appreciate that."

He steepled his fingers and rested his chin on his fingertips. "I'm not a recluse. I'm, well, shy, more than anything, I suppose. As I said before, I'm not comfortable around people I don't know well. As far as the articles you spoke of are concerned, I assume you're referring to some of the more recent derogatory ones."

"Mhm," I acknowledged in a lighthearted tone. I arched an eyebrow. "One headline even referred to you as an 'antisocial elitist.'"

"Ah, yes. Well, if the kind of people who wrote that, label me as antisocial, then I'll take it as a compliment. I've had firsthand experience with the fashionable society they aspire to gain a foothold in, and I'm more than happy not to be lumped in with that lot. The journalist to whom you refer regarding that particular article is, I believe, George Wickham."

I nodded in acknowledgment.

A shadow seemed to settle over Will. "Wickham used to be my friend and PR agent until he proved himself dissolute and untrustworthy. Georgiana was only fifteen at the time. He knew of her plans to travel to Ramsgate with friends, and he followed her there." He exhaled heavily and ran a hand over his face.

"Will, you don't have to tell me."

"No, it's alright. I want you to know about it, because while most journalists I've met are wonderful people, there are those like George Wickham out there, and I would feel much better if you were aware of the fact."

I swallowed hard and nodded for him to continue.

"As I was saying, Wickham found out about Georgiana's plans to travel to Ramsgate with friends last summer. He followed her there and came to know her routine. Georgiana knew him only as my PR agent and a family friend. She wasn't aware that I had fired him weeks earlier for attempting to force himself on one of the staff at Pemberley. He ended up cornering Georgiana in her hotel room and threatened her." Will's voice wavered a little, and he cleared his throat before continuing. "I'm afraid he meant to do her great harm in retribution for my firing him. I won't burden you with the details, although I'm sure you can imagine." He paused and exhaled heavily as if physically worn down by telling the tale. "Luckily, Richard and I happened to surprise my sister with a visit and entered her hotel room at the very moment Wickham raised his hand to her."

Will closed his eyes. "Luckily, no physical harm was done. We didn't alert the police; I can't imagine the heyday the press would have had with that. We made it very clear to Wickham however, that he was never to speak to or go near Georgiana again, under the pain of prosecution if he did so. Since then, he has contented himself with cowardly threats toward me and slandering my name every chance he gets."

I stood and crossed the space that separated us, seating myself on the arm of his chair. When I leaned over and wrapped my arms around his shoulders in a comforting embrace, I felt the tension melt from his body. I straightened, keeping one hand on his shoulder, and without thought, I raised my other to trace his jawline. His skin was warm, and dark stubble tickled my fingertips.

He raised his hand and covered my fingers with his own. "Thank you," he whispered, picking up my hand and gently kissing the inside of my palm.

The gesture made my heart race, and I curled my fingers into my palm before gently pulling my hand away. In an attempt to try to lighten the mood, I said, "So, basically what you're telling me is that the reason you wanted to get to know me had nothing to do with Marvel Comics, after all?"

"No, sorry," he apologized, although there was nothing apologetic about his tone. "So," he poked my side, nearly causing me to fall off the armrest, "do I have to beg for a tour of your home?"

I rose from my perch. "I won't make you beg, although that could be fun, too."

Will shook his head. "I see I'll receive no mercy from you."

"He can be taught," I deadpanned, patting him on the back.

He helped me gather the plate and glasses from the coffee table, and after I had loaded them in the dishwasher, the home tour commenced. Afterward, we settled in on the sofa. Hours flew by, unnoticed, as we talked about everything and nothing at all. Before I knew it, the grandfather clock in the library struck nine. I yawned.

"I had better leave and let you get some sleep," Will observed as we sat comfortably together on the living room sofa.

I struggled to keep my heavy eyelids open. "Mm. I don't think I want this day to end," I confessed.

"Nor I," he agreed. "If you don't have plans for tomorrow, perhaps we can spend the day together again. How do you feel about staying in? We could watch movies," he suggested. "That is if you want to spend more time with me," he added hesitantly.

I looked up to see him awaiting my answer with a guarded expression and smiled. "I suppose I could clear my schedule for the day. Do you want to come over at ten? That will allow both of us to sleep in a little."

Will stood. "I look forward to it."

I rose from my seat and walked with him to the foyer. "Thanks for today, Will. I had a great time."

His eyes softened as he looked down at me. "So did I. Would you mind if I share the photo of us at the zoo on my private social media page?"

I folded my arms across my chest and gave him a wry grin. "Share at your own risk. My crazy hair makes me look half-wild in that picture...what will your friends think of the company you've been keeping?"

The corner of his mouth tipped up and his eyes narrowed, a mischievous glint sparkling in them. He pocketed his phone and took a step closer to me. I instinctively took a couple of steps backward, until I felt my shoulder blades press against the wall. Will advanced until only a few inches remained between us and looked down at me, his gaze intense. The warmth and electricity that suddenly charged the air around us were palpable.

"I love your hair," he whispered as he raised his hands to my temples and carefully slid his long fingers through the heavy waves of it, making my heart pound. "When it's down like this, it looks as though a man's hands have been in it. Perhaps that's what they'll think," he raised an eyebrow, his mouth stretching into a teasing grin, "that you've had a man's hands – my hands – in it."

Holy. Guacamole. Batman. Suddenly, breathing seemed like the most complicated task I'd ever attempted. My stomach clenched and I swallowed hard, unable to look away from his magnetic eyes. The intimacy his words implied made heat rise to my face.

Will's phone rang then, interrupting the moment. With an apologetic look, he stepped back, dropped his hands, and pulled his phone from his pocket. "It's Charles," he said, looking down at the screen, "excuse me for just a moment." He muted the ringer as he took another step back and began to text.

Grateful for the interruption, and the opportunity it gave me to collect myself after the surprising and intimate moment, I glanced at Will. He stood, looking down at me, with a thoughtful expression. The same warmth and electricity that I'd felt moments ago still seemed to simmer in the air between us.

"I thought you didn't want Charles's sister to find out about me. Wouldn't posting a photo tip her off?" I asked, breaking the charged silence.

Will shrugged his broad shoulders and pocketed his phone. "She's not allowed access to my profile, so I think we're fairly safe, in that regard. Besides, I will handle Caroline Bingley, and whoever else, if need be. My only concern is betraying your trust by posting anything without your consent."

I looked down at my hands to cover my surprise. "It's fine with me," I assured him. "I do, however, have a question."

"I promise to answer honestly," Will replied.

I felt his eyes on me and looked up again before I spoke. "Last night, you were reluctant to even tell your closest friend that you were hanging out with me. Why the sudden change of heart?"

He took a step closer to me, closing the distance between us again. I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. "When I spoke with Charles last night after returning to the hotel, I was completely honest with him. I saw that my deception had hurt you, and I wanted to make it right. Afterward, I did a lot of thinking on the subject of you and me. I want everything to be straightforward with you, Elizabeth. I won't hide what I feel for you, especially if the only reason for doing so is to avoid the discomfort of media attention on my part. That, however, is another subject we'll need to discuss. I can handle the media and Caroline Bingley, for that matter. I can and will protect those I care about. What I need to know is how you feel about everything."

I froze. My heart jumped at his words, and my throat tightened with nerves. "Wh-what do you mean that you won't hide what you feel for me? We've only known each other for a few days, Will."

"I know. And I know it sounds insane, but I've never met anyone quite like you before, nor have I experienced a connection like this." His eyes held my own, daring me to deny the connection and chemistry between us. "I want to pursue a friendship with you and see where we go from there. I just know that I don't want to lose this," he gestured between the two of us with a wave of his hand.

I listened in silence while I fought an internal battle. Logic and experience warned me away from any attachment to Will, but my ever-hopeful heart warmed as a few more little lights flickered back to life, the growing brightness banishing more of my reservations. A wave of shyness threatened to overwhelm me as I smiled uncertainly up at him. "I'm beginning to feel the same way," I admitted carefully, matching his candor with my own. "Reluctantly, mind you," I teased.

Will laughed softly. "I see that I'll just have to try that much harder."

"No, not much, anyway," I winked.

He cupped my face in one hand, his fingers sliding through my hair against my scalp as he gently traced the line of my cheek with his thumb. At his touch, a shudder of pure pleasure and desire rippled through my body. "Goodnight, Elizabeth," he whispered. Then, he stepped back, lifted his blazer from the coat rack, opened the door, and was gone.

In a daze, I locked the door and moved blindly toward my room as my mind raced. I plugged my nearly-dead phone into the charger by my nightstand and quickly showered and changed into my pajamas before crawling under the covers for the night.

In the quiet of my room, Will's words from the intimate moment in the foyer at the end of the night invaded my mind.

"I love your hair. When it's down like this, it looks as though a man's hands have been in it. Perhaps that's what they'll think. That you've had a man's hands – my hands – in it."

Holy. God. My head involuntarily dropped back against the pillow as I remembered the feeling of his hands in my hair. As affected as my body and mind had been by that brief moment, I couldn't imagine how it would feel to have the full measure and focus of his passion. The man was lethal. And I was not going to allow myself to even think about it.

I picked up my phone to set my alarm for the next morning and saw several Facebook notifications on my screen. I opened the app and scrolled through the alerts.

Will had apparently tagged me in a picture. I clicked on the notification and was redirected to his profile, where I saw the photo of Will and me on the bridge in the Lied Jungle. The caption above the photo read, "The Heartland has given me hope." Thankfully, he had set the privacy settings to such that only those on his friend list could see the image. I breathed a sigh of relief. I wasn't quite ready to explain him to anyone, especially not my mother and sisters. I grimaced at the thought of that conversation.

I wasn't sure what to think about the post, and apprehension overshadowed every other feeling. Will seemed too good to be true. There had to be a dark side to all this, and the realist in me waited with bated breath for that darkness to rear its head. I had begun to care about him and, reservations aside, I found myself looking forward to the prospect of a friendship and possibly a relationship with him.

I had learned that the man behind the public façade was a good guy. He was interesting, compelling, and complicated. Each time I thought I finally had him figured out, I was surprised to find another layer underneath. He wasn't just a handsome face with an incredible body; he was loyal, caring, responsible, serious, funny, and extremely intelligent. Our discussions were always surprising and engaging, and he understood me as few others did. Like he had said the night before, it was as though our minds operated on the same bizarre wavelength.

I glanced at the status bar beneath the photo, which had already received more than fifty "likes." I groaned and scrolled through the comments.

Will's friend, Charles Bingley, had commented, "*stands and applauds* YOLO, my friend." I laughed at that.

Georgiana Darcy had commented with several pink hearts, followed by a series of smiley faces and several question marks, with the words, "CALL ME!" at the end.

His cousin, Richard, had commented as well with the remark, "About. Bloody. Time."

I shook my head and put my phone down. After much tossing and turning, I finally fell into a restless sleep.