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‘Do you believe in fate?’ she asked, standing too close to him.
‘No,’ he replied, sloshing raw milk into the jug. No matter what Elyse asked him, the answer was always a negative. He hoped if he kept shutting down every conversation, she might finally leave him alone.
She curled a strand of hair around a finger. ‘But look at us… We’re now living—’
James turned the blender on, drowning out the rest of her sentence. When he reluctantly switched it off, Elyse held out a cup.
He twisted the jug off the base. ‘I’ll take this with me.’
‘Your dad wants to see you.’
‘I’ll find him in a bit.’
James went to the door and yanked it open.
‘Enjoy your shower,’ she called after him.
He didn’t reply, already starting down the corridor.
‘Think of me…’ she continued, the words slipping through the closing door and sticking to his skin.
Back in his bedroom, James went to the tall window that looked out over the formal gardens, gulping his recovery drink.
The small box hedges surrounding the rose bushes had been immaculately trimmed when his parents had bought the house, but without constant upkeep, the garden was beginning to unravel.
Just like my life.
His dad had employed one gardener, but even in the winter it wasn’t enough for a place this size. James wanted to be rich, but he was also pragmatic. What was the point in buying a lifestyle you couldn’t afford to maintain?
He glanced around his bedroom: a chintz palace, where every possible eyesore was hidden by the same flowered fabric. The tops of the curtains were tucked behind upholstered pelmets, the bottom of the bed was obscured by a frilly valance, and the pillows and duvet were hidden by a coverlet as if they’d just died. Even the radiators were tidied away inside wooden boxes with lattice fronts to let the heat out. The wallpaper had the same pattern of blue roses as the soft furnishings, and the overall effect of the room was that of being suffocated by a rich grandmother.
James finished his drink and took the jug into the adjoining bathroom, rinsing it out in one of the two sinks, then tossed his clothes to the marble floor and stepped into the shower. This was the best part of the house: hot water that came out with more power than a herd of stampeding elephants. He let the droplets batter his muscles, releasing some of the tension that seeing Elyse had overlaid on top of the stress of everything else.
I need to get back to London.
But how? His flat was rented out to cover lawyers’ fees and most of his savings were gone. Everything he’d worked so hard for had disappeared because he couldn’t keep his big mouth shut.
Now he was living with his parents and his ex in the arse end of the country, and had taken on a job he had no clue how to do.
Resting his forehead against the back wall of the shower, he let out a breath, his thoughts returning to last Saturday night.
Estelle Foxbrooke…
If meeting Henry when they were at school had been a surprise, then meeting his twin sister had been an even bigger one.
Estelle was fire, light and energy. Power crackled from her into him, turning on every cell in his body from his brain to his cock.
Even during their first brief meeting on Foxbrooke high street, a few months ago, the force of Estelle’s personality had met his and given it a kicking. ‘I know exactly who you are… And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from my family.’
A smile spread across his face and his dick sprang to life. He’d savoured every word she’d hurled in his direction and had replayed the meeting each and every time he’d brought himself off since. Now, that first encounter had been superseded.
Reaching down, James gripped his shaft. He’d blagged himself an invitation to the Winter Ball at Foxbrooke Manor so he could see her again. Thanks to his father’s machinations, he needed to talk to her, but he also wanted another hit. A kick to his heart to keep going when everything else in his life was falling apart.
Catching sight of Estelle across one of the rooms on Saturday night had jolted his heart with electricity. Tall, curvaceous, and devastatingly beautiful, she’d been wearing an iridescent turquoise dress he wanted to rip off with his teeth.
Closing his eyes, he stroked his hard length, sensation shuddering up his body as he imagined her full lips parting with pleasure, her eyelids fluttering in bliss as he slowly fucked her.
Last Saturday, standing at the bar with Henry and the local vicar, Estelle had, once again, sent him packing. But before dinner, he’d searched for her.
