His British Beauty

**Allie's POV**
Eight hours later and we finally arrived at London's airport. Much to my surprise, instead of hiring a driver, Nate decided to rent a car for our stay. I kept forgetting that he actually grew up here, so of course he had a license, but in New York, people rarely drove themselves so it didn't matter. At least not people I typically associated with.
Still, it was actually kind of nice sitting in the front seat for a change. Especially since it meant I could hold hands with my husband the entire way there.
"What's the plan for today?" I asked, glancing around the nearby residential neighborhood with bubbling curiosity. It was so… quaint. And so very different from NY. The buildings were all brick and stone, no steel or large glass panes to be seen. Not to mention it was eerily quiet. If it weren't for the occasional child at play or mother carrying in groceries I would think it were abandoned.
"Well, thought we could run to the shop. If you're too tired, I can go alone while you rest, though."
"Oh. It wasn't pre-stocked?" He cast me an amused grin, before focusing back on the abnormally small road.
"No, love. It's all on us. No assistants, no guards, and no drivers. Just us."
"Just us." I mouthed back in response, tucking my crazed hair behind my ear. "I'll come with you, then." To be honest, I just didn't want to be left in this new place by myself. Not after learning about my negative result… Though Nate had done a wonderful job of distracting me, I could still feel it in my chest, like a splinter hidden deep that poked me at the most random times just to remind me it was there.
"Good. I was hoping you'd say that." He squeezed my hand just as he hit his indicator to get off the road.
We made it.
"This is it?" I questioned, my eyes scanning the two story London homes before me. The entire top story of the strip was light brick, while the bottom seemed to be white stucco of some sort. A deep blue door with glass panes was situated beneath a white overhang where a flower bed was dangling in a wire basket, despite the cool weather.
Nate unbuckled his seatbelt, preparing to open the door. "Lovely, isn't it? I grew up just a few streets over. And that," He pointed at a front door a couple spaces down from us. "That's where Cooper lived. We'd ride our bikes to visit each other every day in the summer, meet at the petrol to blow our quid on soda and crisps."
"Petrol?" He let out a short, embarrassed laugh.
"Sorry. My Brits coming out a bit heavy, innit? Um, gas station. Petrol is what we call a gas station." Did he just say 'innit'? I let out an involuntary snort, covering my mouth to try to contain it, but it was futile. "Oi, don't laugh. I had to go through a lot of training to talk American, alright? Being back on the Queen's soil has me chuffed. I can finally speak my native tongue here."
"Do I at least get a dictionary for all this British slang?" I choked out between breathy fits, but he seemed just as amused as I was, and raised a humored brow.
"Not a chance. Quit your whinging and keep still for a minute. I'll grab the brolly." He said with a wink, opening his door in the slight rain and heading for the trunk. He was doing it on purpose now and I loved it. I loved hearing him speak like a true Englishman. He looked comfortable here. At home.
A brief passing sting of guilt lanced through me. This was his home, but I was keeping it from him. My contract, our marriage, took this away, locked him in New York. Was that why he was teasing about moving to England? Did he miss it? "Milady."
Nate opened my door, extending a gentlemanly hand while the other held a large black umbrella. His eyes almost glowed against the dim London backdrop, making them appear mystical, daring even. He had never looked more handsome, like a light shining in a storming ocean.
"Brolly?" I asked, pointing to the umbrella, and he smiled, the sight of which warmed me despite the chilly breeze.
"You catch on quick."
"It'll be rare, so don't get your hopes up." He raised a hand, combing it through my hair as his eyes fell on mine.
"Let's get you inside."
"I thought we had to go shopping."
"It'll be there after we've had it off." He whispered sensually, his accent heavier when laced with lust.
"You're insatiable." I teased, trailing my fingers up his toned torso, making him shiver.
"Only for you." He retorted, glancing around before giving my ass a firm slap towards the door. I yelped, picking up my pace towards our new home for the next month. As soon as the door was unlocked, opened, then shut behind us, Nate pounced, his mouth coming in hot and heavy against mine. After a second of his tongue clashing with mine, he lifted me onto his hips and I circled my arms around his neck.A peek through his lashes gave him pause, and he broke the kiss for a moment.
"What?" I panted out. He chuckled, biting his cheek.
"It's a bit weird. I feel like we're getting ready to fuck in Cooper's flat."
"Is that a problem?" I raised a brow, and he grinned.
"No. Pretty damn hot, actually." Then, he was back on me, all the way to the master bedroom.
.
.
.
"What's this?" I held up a blue box with fanciful orange writing sprawled across it. Nate peeked over curiously, his face lighting up with recognition.
"Jaffa Cakes! They're um, spongy little treats. Like little biscuits, but soft with jam and chocolate." What the hell?
"Jam? Like, what you put on toast?"
"Sort of. It's orange flavor, though. Don't think you put orange jam on things. Want to try them?" I looked back at the box hesitantly. "They're really good. Promise." To be honest, it sounded disgusting and terribly unhealthy, but this was our honeymoon, and the sight of Nate riled up and excited over it made them more appealing somehow.
"Okay. I'll do it. I'll try them." I concluded confidently, adding them to our basket as if I'd accomplished some noteworthy cultural feat. He broke into a beaming smile, leaning forward to kiss my head, but just as he made contact, his whole body tensed.
"Nate?" I said, but I wasn't alone. Another voice, a woman's voice, also spoke my husbands name. Who the hell? He cleared his throat and leaned away from me, and I followed his gaze to the source.
A thin, beautiful woman with long brown hair and dazzling gray eyes stood a few feet away from us, clutching onto her purse as her eyes bounced between him and me.
"Sophie. Um, hi." Nate removed his hand from my lower back and ran it through his hair, mussing it. He was nervous, and the tension was so thick I could cut it with a knife. This was an ex of his, I just knew it. Sophie shifted nervously in her black boots.
"I didn't expect to see you here. Last time we spoke, you said-"
"Yea, well, I'm just visiting." He interrupted, chancing a quick glance at my dumbstruck expression. Last time they spoke? What the hell did he say last time they spoke?! I could already feel myself getting dizzy, and the desire to do a line was heavy. But I couldn't, so instead my eyes narrowed on the pretty British girl with the pretty British accent as I grabbed hold of Nate's hand, probably a little harder than I should have. He winced at my pressure, but I didn't care.
"We're on our honeymoon, actually." I blurted, mentally slapping myself for my terrible lack of introduction. Not because it was rude, but because I wanted her to know my name like I had the displeasure of knowing hers. Her brows shot up and she looked to Nate for clarification. When he didn't speak, her gaze darkened.
"That was a bit fast, don't you think?"
"It's not really any of your business." Nate replied coolly, his hand fidgeting in mine. Who the fuck was this girl? "All done, Allie? Ready to go?" He asked, facing me fully so his back was to the mysterious girl with long lashes and a maroon peacoat.
"Nate." She complained, stepping forward to place a hand on his shoulder, but he immediately brushed it off. Good thing, too, because I damn near bit the thing.
"Let's go." He whispered to me, but I couldn't move. My glare was fixed, and I didn't want to back down. "Please." He added, his voice begging for compliance and I had no choice but to grant it. I nodded, letting him tug me down the small aisle as her last tear-strained decree was voiced.
"You're a damned liar."