This Man Part 43

Oh, s.h.i.+t!

The one hundred grand is to keep Patrick quiet while he gets his fix of me, morning, noon and night. Oh, b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l. What about my other clients a Van Der Haus being the most important other client? He alone will boost Patrick's turnover tenfold. Oh G.o.d, I feel a trample coming on.

'Jesse, I need to go to the office.' I try for a calm and reasonable tone. I don't know why I picked this one in particular. As appose to what? Demanding? Ha!

'No, you don't. Stretch.' Is the straight flat answer, followed by a terse demand that I get thrown back at me from the bathroom.

I'm going to lose my job. I know it. He'll get his fix, trample all over my social life and career, and then drop me like a hot potato. I'll be job-less, friend-less, heart-less and, most frighteningly, Jesse-less. I feel light headed. What am I going to do? I'm too exhausted to run away at the start of a countdown a not that I would get very far, even firing on all cylinders. And a sense f.u.c.k will probably finish off my already strained heart.

'All of my equipment is at the office. My computer programmes, reference books, everything.' My voice is small.

He presents himself at the doorway of the bathroom, chewing his lip. 'And you need all that stuff?'

'Yes, to do my job.'

'Okay, we'll stop by your office.' He shrugs and returns to the bathroom.

I throw myself back on the bed in exasperation. What in G.o.d's name am I going to say to Patrick? I exhale a weary sigh. He's lead me into a false sense of security by bringing me home in a taxi and carrying my tired body up the stairs when my legs felt like they could give out. I'm just as deluded as he is. I'm never going to be in control.

'Bath's ready.' he whispers in my ear, snapping me from my unrest.

'You were serious, weren't you?' I ask as he lifts me up from the bed and carries me into the bathroom. The enormous bath dominating the room is only half full.

'I was serious about what?' He places me on my feet and starts peeling off my wet running gear.

Thick skin! 'About holing me up with you,'

'Yes.'

'What about my other clients?'

'I don't want to share you.' He pulls my shorts down my legs and taps my ankle. I do as I'm bid, lifting my feet in turn.

How am I going to play this? For one thing, I'm less than delighted at the thought of spending more time than I have to at The Manor under the icy glare of old pouty face, and for another, I need to keep on top of my current clients. That's what they are paying me for. He doesn't want to share me?

What?

With anyone?

And for how long?

'I don't need to be at The Manor to collate designs, Jesse.'

He lifts me into the bath and starts undressing himself. 'Yes, you do.'

I sink down into the hot water. It's a welcome relief for my screaming muscles. It's a shame it won't relax my screaming brain. 'No, I don't.' I affirm. I'm attempting to put my foot down again. What a laugh!

I look up to a very disgruntled face as he climbs in behind me and pulls my back against his chest. He's silent for a short while before he takes a deep breath. 'If I let you go to the office, you have to do something for me.'

If he lets me? This man is beyond self-a.s.sured and arrogant. But he's negotiating, which is an improvement on demanding or forcing me. 'Okay. What?'

'You'll come to The Manor's anniversary party.'

'What? Like a social event?'

'Yes, exactly like a social event.'

I'm glad he can't see my face, because if he could, he would see a screwed up contortion of displeasure. So, now I'm between a rock and a hard place. I get out of going to The Manor today, but I'm negotiating delaying the ch.o.r.e, not completely avoiding it. And for a social event? I would rather boil my head!

'When?' I sound less enthused than I feel, and that's saying something.

'Two weeks today.' He wraps his arms around the tops of my shoulders and nuzzles his face into my neck.

I should be dancing around the bathroom in joy. He wants to take me as a date. It doesn't matter that it's the posh hotel that he owns, he wants me there. But I'm not sure I'm prepared to spend the evening under the unfriendly, watchful eye of Sarah. And it's a dead cert that she'll be there.

'You'll come.' He thrusts his tongue in my ear, swirls it around a few times and kisses under the hollow of my lobe, before thrusting it back in my ear.

I squirm under his hot tongue, my body slipping over his. 'Stop!' I shudder.

'No.' He squeezes me to him as I writher, water splas.h.i.+ng everywhere. 'Say you'll come.'

'No! Jesse!' I laugh when his hand moves to my hip. 'Stop!'

'Please.' he purrs in my ear.

I stop struggling. Please? Did I hear him right? I'm stunned on the spot. Jesse Ward said please? Okay, so he's brokering a deal, and he said please. Well, on the bright side, at least I know he's looking at least a few weeks into the future with me. If I had of spent all day at The Manor today, there's not a shadow of a doubt that I would be attending The Manors anniversary party anyway. I should be grateful, I suppose.

'Okay, I'll come.' I sigh, earning myself a super tight squeeze and an over-the-top nuzzle. I reach up and wrap my hands around his forearms. I've made him happy. And that, in turn, makes me very happy.

So, I'm going to be his date. That will please Sarah no end. Actually, I will go, and I'll look forward to it too. He wants me there, and that has to signify something, doesn't it? I can't help the little satisfied smile playing at the corners of my mouth. I'm not usually the compet.i.tive type, but I really dislike Sarah and I really like Jesse, so it's a no brainer really.

'How many years?' I ask.

'What?'

'The Manor's anniversary, how many years is it?'

'A few,'

I crane my neck around to get him in my line of sight, finding a completely blank expression. He's giving nothing away. I shake my head, turning back around and letting him have his stupid age secret. I'm past caring now. I love him a nothing could change that.

'I've never had a bath before.' he says quietly.

'Never?'

'No, never, I'm a shower man. But I think I might be a bath man now.'

'I love having a bath.'

'Me too, but only if you're in it with me,' He squeezes me. 'It's a good job the designer of this place antic.i.p.ated the need for a big one.'

I laugh. 'I think she did well.' Never in a million years did I antic.i.p.ate enjoying a soak in it when I helped coordinate the crane lift of the d.a.m.n thing. At the time, I was regretting being so extravagant, but now I'm reaping the benefits of the giant, bespoke tub, it was definitely a ball ache worth enduring.

'I wonder if she ever considered being in it?' he muses.

'No, she didn't.'

'Well, I'm glad she is.' He tugs at my ear lobe with his teeth as I feel his feet slide down my s.h.i.+ns, rubbing across the tops of my feet above the bubbly water.

I close my eyes and rest my head against his chest. Perhaps I should ditch work and stay with him all day after all. In my sleepy bath time slumber, I decide that tub talk with Jesse is one of my new favourite pastimes. And I might even start running in the morning. Not crazy distances, but around the Royal Parks once or twice every other morning. I must remember to stretch.

'You're going to be late for work.' he says softly in my ear. I pout to myself. I'm way too comfortable. 'Just think...if you didn't go to the office, we could stay longer.' He kisses my temple and rises to get out, leaving me silently wis.h.i.+ng I had of relented to his insistence on staying with him all day.

I give my own little private huff of disgust and grab the men's shampoo. It looks like it's going to be another bad hair day.

Chapter 31.

I pad into the bedroom and find my cream, fitted dress spread out on the bed, with my nude heels and some fancy lace underwear that I don't recognise. I frown to myself, picking up the unfamiliar bra and knickers set. He's brought me underwear, and he's brought me underwear in the right size? He really does think he can dictate my wardrobe.

I thread my fingers over the pretty, delicate lace in a soft cream colour. It's beautiful, but a bit over the top for work. I start going through my gym bag to find an alternative, but there's no underwear to be found and no other option in the clothes department either. In fact, there are no other clothes at all, the sly sod.

I resign myself to accepting my fate, getting myself ready and slipping into the underwear and dress that Jesse has decided I'm wearing today. I suppose I should be grateful that he's not laid out my oversized, chunky knit jumper. I'm super relieved that he's had the initiative to leave me a hairdryer, though. I apply my make-up, blow-dry my hair into a tousled, slightly messy ma.s.s, pile it up and make my way downstairs.

I find Jesse at the kitchen island on his mobile, dunking his finger into a jar of peanut b.u.t.ter. He glances up at me, nearly knocking me off of my heels with his roguish smile. Oh yes, he's super satisfied with himself.

I run my eyes over his grey suited, black s.h.i.+rted physic and sigh in admiration. His dirty blonde hair has been ruffled with wax and set in a messy array to one side, and I'm super appreciative that he's not shaved. He looks rugged and mind-bogglingly handsome. Why did I insist on going to work?

'I'll be there when I've dropped Ava at work.' He turns himself on the stool, c.o.c.king his head to the side. 'Yes, tell Sarah I want it on my desk when I get there.' He pats his lap, and I make my way over, fighting the scowl from my face at the mention of her name. 'We revoke his members.h.i.+p, simple.' I lower myself onto his knee, smiling when he buries himself in my neck and inhales deeply. 'He can kick off all he likes, he's gone, end of.' he spits harshly. What's he on about? 'Get Sarah to cancel it...yes...okay...see you in a bit.'

He hangs up, tosses his phone on the worktop and snakes his arms under my knees to pull me up from floor and onto his lap, greeting me with a greedy, full on kiss. He moans into my mouth in pure satisfaction.

'I like your dress.' he mumbles around my lips. He's extra minty, mixed with a little peanut b.u.t.ter. I can't stand peanut b.u.t.ter, but I love him and all this attentiveness, so I'll ignore it.

'You picked it. Of course you like it. What's with the underwear?'

He pecks my lips and puts me down. 'I told you, always in lace.' He runs his eyes down my body.

I don't argue a a pointless exercise if ever there was one, and I've got it on now.

'Breakfast?' he asks.

I glance at the clock on the cooker. 'I'll grab something at the office.' I can't be late. I grab my bag to get my pills. 'Can I have some water?'

'Knock yourself out, baby.' He returns to his jar of peanut b.u.t.ter.

I walk over to the huge fridge-freezer, delving into the deepest depths of my bag. Where are they? I slap my bag onto the worktop next to the fridge, removing everything, but I find no pills. Please, not again. I'm hopeless.

'What's up?' he asks.

'Nothing,' I mutter, dumping everything back into my bag. 'f.u.c.k.' I curse under my breath, but then mentally applaud myself for separating the packets and putting some in my underwear drawer.

'Watch your mouth, Ava.' he rebukes me. 'Come on, you'll be late.'

'Sorry,' I mutter. 'This is your fault, Ward.' I swing my bag onto my shoulder.

'Mine?' he blurts, all wide eyed. 'What's my fault and how?'

'Nothing, but it's your fault because you're distracting me.' I accuse.

He looks down at me, his lips twitching. 'You love me distracting you.'

I do as well. I can't deny it.

I'm delivered to Berkeley Square in record time. He really is a menace on the roads, in his stupidly expensive car. He parks illegally on the corner and turns himself to face me. He's chewing his bottom lip and he has been for most of the journey. What's he thinking about?

'I love waking up with you.' he says gently, reaching over and running his thumb across my bottom lip.

I turn in my seat so I'm facing him. 'I love waking up with you too. But I don't like being run ragged at five in the morning.' My legs are really feeling it, and it's only going to get worse. I didn't stretch after the run because I was sidetracked by Mr Challenging and his challenging ways. My day is looking to be really uncomfortable with my nude heels to boot.

'You would prefer to be f.u.c.ked ragged?' He grins that roguish grin, running his palm down the front on my dress.

Oh, no you don't! 'No, I prefer sleepy s.e.x.' I correct him. I lean over, plant a chaste kiss on his mouth and get out of the car, leaving him and his frown line alone. I lean back in. 'I'll be seeing you tomorrow. Thank you for exhausting me before work.' I shut the door and start walking off on my abused legs in the most uncomfortable shoes I own. Thank G.o.d I've got a day in the office because I couldn't be prancing around London in these beauties. My phone shouts at me from my bag. I pull it out.

You look incredible in that dress. Good choice. You're welcome. Jx Turning around, I see him watching me walk away. I perform a little rotation and catch his dazzling smile before I hear the guttural roar of his car go speeding off. I smile to myself. He's been really rather reasonable this morning.

I walk into the office and find Tom consoling Victoria at her desk. I roll my eyes to myself. What drama has occurred at eight thirty on a Friday morning?

'Just get it fixed.' Tom soothes, rubbing her back. I look down, finding Victoria inspecting her thumb nail. I roll my eyes again.

'I don't have time today,' she cries. 'This is a disaster!'

She broke a flipping nail? The girl should have sought a career in stage school. But then I remember...she has a date with Drew tonight. Oh, this really is a disaster for Victoria. I make my way to my desk as she files down her broken nail, Tom continuing to rub her back. He looks up at me, making an equally dramatic give-me-strength gesture before virtually sprinting over to my side of the office. I know what's coming.

He plants his palms on my desk, leaning forward. 'What was all that about?'

'Shhhhhhh!' I scowl at him, looking over my shoulder into Patrick's office. He's not there, but he could be in the kitchen or the conference room. I should have known my gay, inquisitive friend would be picking my brain on Jesse's shock visit to the office yesterday. In fact, I'm surprised he held out until this morning.

Tom waves a dismissive hand. 'He's not here. Tell me!'

I focus my attention on my computer, turning it on and faffing with the mouse. What do I tell him? I've fallen in love with a controlling, domineering, unreasonable, neurotic, trampling man, who happens to be a client and f.u.c.ks me senseless? Oh, who also gives me the countdown when I disobey him? Yes, that about covers it. I look up and find Victoria's joined the interrogation party.

'He's one hot s...o...b..' she sings.