Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 281

Chapter 281

We walked hand in hand along Bath’s stone streets, both of us still processing the magical experience we’d just had at the Jane Austen Centre. The winter sun was already starting to set, even though it wasn’t even four yet. It painted the sky in soft golds that reflected beautifully against the Georgian architecture around us. It felt like we were strolling through a living postcard.

“It would’ve already been a perfect day even if it ended right there,” I said, giving Nate’s hand a squeeze as we passed a narrow street lined with little shops dressed up in Christmas décor. “Getting into the Jane Austen Centre on December twenty-fourth, having a completely private experience, wearing period clothes… it felt like living out a dream I didn’t even know I had.”

Nate smiled that secretive smile that always meant he was hiding something wonderful.

“I told you I had one more surprise,” he said, guiding me around another corner.

When we turned, I found myself standing in front of one of Bath’s most iconic landmarks: the Roman Baths. But like every other tourist attraction in the city, the place was clearly closed, with ‘Closed for Christmas’ signs posted on the doors and not a single soul in sight.

“Nate,” I said, stopping mid-step. “It’s closed.”

“Is it?” he asked with that fake innocence I was starting to recognize as a warning sign.

Before I could answer, I saw a middle-aged man walking toward the main entrance. He spotted us and waved, heading straight over with a warm smile.

“Mr. Carter,” he said, shaking Nate’s hand. “Punctual as always. Everything is prepared just as we discussed.”

I stared at Nate, then at the man, then back at Nate, trying to piece together what on earth was happening.

“Dr. Harrison, thank you for doing this,” Nate said. “This is Annie, the one I told you about.”

“Ah, the special young lady,” Dr. Harrison said, greeting me with an unexpectedly genuine smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Anyone important to Nathaniel is welcome here.”

“You have more influence than you pretend…” I murmured to Nate as Dr. Harrison led us toward a side entrance.

“Dr. Harrison is one of the head curators,” Nate explained like it was nothing. “A personal friend. When I told him I wanted to show you the Baths, he offered to make an exception.”

We stepped into what was normally one of the most crowded places in Bath-but right now it was completely empty, completely silent. Without the swarm of tourists, the chatter in ten different languages, or the constant clicking of cameras, the Roman Baths felt almost sacred.

Warm amber lights illuminated the ancient stone, casting dramatic shadows across the columns. Steam rose from the naturally hot springs, drifting in a soft veil that shimmered in the golden glow. It felt like stepping back two thousand years.

“Oh my God,” I whispered as the main pool came into view, its greenish waters reflecting the light like liquid gold. “It’s beautiful.”

“I knew you’d love it,” Nate said, watching my wonder with obvious satisfaction. “No lines. No tourists

1/3

elbowing each other for selfies. No noise. Just you, me, and two millennia of Roman history.”

We walked slowly around the main pool as Dr. Harrison shared fascinating stories about archaeological discoveries, Roman rituals, and the modern conservation efforts. The whole place radiated this quiet reverence, like we were walking through a temple.

“The water emerges from underground at a constant forty-six degrees Celsius,” Dr. Harrison explained as he led us through passages I’d never seen in any tourist picture. “The Romans believed it was a magical gift from the goddess Sulis Minerva.”

When we reached what felt like the end of the official tour, I assumed our special time was done. But Nate exchanged a meaningful look with Dr. Harrison.

“It’s not over,” he said to me, flashing that mysterious smile I was starting to love, and fear a little.

Another staff member appeared, younger than Dr. Harrison, and motioned for us to follow him down a hallway that definitely wasn’t open to the public.

“Where are we going?” I asked, my curiosity fully awake now.

“The original Baths are gorgeous,” Nate said as we descended a narrow stone staircase, “but you can’t swim in them. Preservation rules, bacteria, thousands of years of history…” He paused, looking at me with that intensity that always made my heart skip. “But there’s a subterranean pool, connected to a natural spring, restored and used only on very special occasions.”

I froze halfway down the stairs.

“Nate… is this even legal?” I asked, genuinely worried. “We’re not about to get arrested for trespassing on a historical site or something, right?”

He laughed, the sound echoing off the ancient stone walls.

“Dr. Harrison made an exception,” he said, taking my hand and guiding me down the last few steps. “And we’re going to have the place all to ourselves.”

When we reached the bottom, I literally lost my breath.

We were standing inside a subterranean chamber that looked like something out of a dream. The walls were original Roman stone, softly lit by carefully placed lights that created an intimate glow without damaging anything. In the center of the room, a steaming thermal pool shimmered under the amber lighting, casting golden ripples that danced along the walls.

Steam drifted slowly off the surface, forming a delicate, almost ethereal mist in the warm air, and I could feel the heat radiating from the water even from several feet away. Off to the side, an old wooden bench held neatly folded, fresh towels.

“You have one hour,” the staff member said quietly before disappearing back up the stairs.

We were alone in the chamber-surrounded by two thousand years of history and the quiet sound of running water. It was surreal, romantic, and unbelievably intimate.

I turned to Nate, still trying to wrap my mind around the magnitude of what he’d arranged.

2/3

“You forgot one tiny detail…” I said, glancing from the pool to my very much not-swim-ready outfit. “You didn’t tell me to wear a bikini.”

Nate gave me this slow, half-smile and walked toward me with a deliberate calm that made my pulse jump. When he got close enough that I could feel the heat of him, he slid his hands around my waist and looked at me with that intensity that always made my stomach flip.

“Forget?” he murmured, his voice echoing softly against the stone.

His hands moved up to my face, his fingers tracing the line of my jaw as those green eyes of his studied me like he was memorizing every detail.

“I definitely… didn’t forget.”

Then he kissed me slowly and deeply. It was one of those kisses full of promise and intent, the kind that made every inch of me respond at once.

3/3