Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 280

Chapter 280

The morning of December 24th woke cold and quiet in Bath. When we stepped out of the Carter house, the air was so icy I could see my breath drifting out in little clouds, and the streets were practically empty-just a few hurried pedestrians carrying last-minute packages and the occasional car rolling over the old stone road.

Nate held my gloved hand in his, and I could feel his warmth even through the fabric. There was something magical about being here with him, walking the streets he’d known since he was a kid, seeing Bath for the first time through my eyes.

“That’s the Assembly Room,” he said, pointing toward an imposing building with classical columns. “It’s where the biggest balls in the city were held in the eighteenth century.”

“It looks like it stepped straight out of a period movie,” I said, taking in the Georgian architecture that dominated everything around us.

“And over there”-he guided me around a gentle curve in the street-“is the Royal Crescent. Probably one of the most photographed views in all of England.”

When we turned the corner, I literally stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. The Royal Crescent stretched out in front of us like a perfect crescent moon carved in golden stone, thirty identical houses forming a graceful curve that looked like it had been sketched by an artist. Even in winter, with gray skies and bare trees, it was breathtaking.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, pulling out my phone as I tried to hopelessly capture how gorgeous it was.

“Sorry everything’s closed,” Nate said as we passed a few tourist spots with ‘Closed’ signs on the doors. “It’s December 24th, so the whole city goes into hibernation. But I planned a few surprises.”

We kept walking, crossing the Pulteney Bridge with its little shops tucked along the sides, and I felt like I’d stepped straight into a history book. Every corner revealed something new, every street looked like it had been frozen exactly as it was two centuries ago.

“Can I ask something personal?” I said as we stopped to admire the view of the River Avon sliding quietly beneath the bridge.

‘Always,” he answered, leaning his elbows on the stone railing beside me.

“Why have you never brought anyone home for Christmas before?” I asked, studying his profile as he watched the water. “I mean… you must’ve had other girlfriends. Other important women.”

Nate stayed quiet for a few seconds, like he was sorting through the right words.

“I don’t know,” he said finally, turning to look at me. “I just never felt like committing to anyone the way I wanted to commit to you. From the beginning.”

My heart did this tiny skip at the honesty in his voice.

“So this is like the Carter family Christmas movie,” I joked, trying to soften the moment. “The kind where the romance kicks off in the first five minutes?”

Nate laughed-that low, warm laugh that always made my stomach flip.

“When you put it that way, I guess I can’t doubt those movies anymore,” he said, pulling me a little closer. “And you? What did you think of me at first?”

“Honestly?” I asked, pretending to think it over. “I thought you were a cocky little thing who believed he was the last cookie in the jar.”

“Ouch.” He made a dramatic wince. “But?”

“But…” I went on, smirking, “You also knew exactly how to use fifteen minutes in a bathroom. And I couldn’t stop wondering what you’d be able to do with more time and more space.”

Nate laughed out loud, earning a few curious glances from the handful of people walking by.

“And?” he said, leaning in with a grin. “Did I exceed expectations?”

We spent the next two hours completely immersed in Jane Austen’s world. We drank tea from delicate porcelain cups, sampled cucumber sandwiches and scones with jam, while Mr. Matthews shared fascinating stories about the author’s life in Bath-no rush, no crowds, just the three of us in an intimate, curated experience.

“She didn’t like the city very much at first,” he explained, leading us slowly through what had been her study.” Used to life in the countryside, she found Bath too busy, too social. But it was here that she developed much of her insight into society at the time.”

We wandered through the empty museum, exploring interactive exhibits about Austen’s life in Bath, photos from film adaptations of her books, and the famous wax figure that recreated her appearance with eerie accuracy. We could linger as long as we wanted, ask every question, poke into every corner with no one rushing us. But the part that entertained me the most was when Mr. Matthews brought out period costumes.

“It’s tradition,” he insisted when I hesitated. “And we have some lovely pieces that would look perfect on you two. Besides, since the museum is all yours, you can have as much fun as you like.”

Fifteen minutes later, I was wearing a pale green muslin dress with long sleeves and an empire waist, while Nate had swapped his modern coat for a dark wool tailcoat and vest. When we caught sight of ourselves in an old hallway mirror, I couldn’t help laughing.

“We look like characters from Pride and Prejudice,” I said, adjusting the long gloves that completed the outfit.

“Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet,” Nate agreed, giving me an exaggerated bow that made me laugh even harder.

We took dozens of photos, pretended to reenact scenes from the books, and even attempted a country dance that Mr. Matthews offered to teach us in the empty main hall. It was ridiculous, romantic, and completely perfect-like having our own private world inside a piece of history.

When we finally stepped out of the Jane Austen Centre, it was already midafternoon, and I was still trying to process everything. We were walking back toward the city center when I couldn’t hold the question in anymore.

“How can your sister say the Carters don’t have pedigree when you can do something like this?” I asked, gesturing back toward the building. “Getting a museum to open just for us on December twenty-fourth? You know what I’d get? A laugh and a door in my face.”

Nate laughed, sliding his arm around my shoulders as we walked.

“Forget my sister,” he said, kissing my temple. “I still have one more surprise.”