“I told you. OnlyIcan torment you.”
“While that makes me feel really super special, he should be prosecuted, Xavi.” He clears his throat. “Xavier,” he corrects himself.
“I don’t need to prosecute him.”
He looks at me curiously. “Why?”
“Because Robbie apparently pulled the same tricks with Karl.”
“Who?”
“Another model. He’s Swedish. His boyfriend is extremely rich, connected, andveryprotective. Karl is okay, but his boyfriend is on the warpath. Robbie has more trouble coming his way than I could ever bring him.”
“How the fuck do you know that?”
I waggle my phone. “I don’t know whether you’ve ever seen this device being sold through the centuries of your existence.”
He huffs. “Okay. It’s up to you to deal with the situation the way you feel is best.”
“I don’t think Robbie will be doing it again.” I shrug. “His career’s finished anyway. Once word gets out, he’s a dead man walking in the fashion world.”
“It doesn’t strike me as a particularly moralistic world.”
“It isn’t,” I say simply. “But he broke the golden rule.”
“Do not give fellow models spiked drugs and attempt to rape them?”
“Don’t get caught.”
Silence falls again. I’m aware of passing through Tobermory and have a vague impression of a seafront lined with houses andshops painted in bright primary colours, but my whole attention is on how long it’ll be before I can sleep.
Then the road is climbing steeply away, and I close my eyes as the sunset flickers against my lids. I press a hand to my stomach, and Reuben says, “Only a few more minutes.” His voice is full of concern.
I’m seriously flagging by the time he pulls up in front of a large stone cottage. I keep my eyes slitted to avoid the light, my head pounding like there’s a tiny man with an axe hitting the inside of my skull.
“We’re here,” Reuben says quietly, switching off the engine. “Can you walk?”
“I will do,” I say grimly. “You are not carrying me in your horribly sexy arms.” There’s a startled sound from him that I ignore. “I want to go to bed,” I say plaintively.
“Of course, sweetheart.”
“Hush with that, please.”
He climbs out, and I hear his footsteps. The door opens, and he guides me out. “Four steps,” he says, his arm a steel band around me as I stumble along. I hear a door opening. I have a distant impression of a cottage, and then he’s guiding me in and up some narrow stairs, hovering behind me, so I don’t fall.
“Is this Mount Everest?” I gasp, clinging to the bannister like I’m at sea. The floor appears to be tilting under my feet.
I hear a curse, and then I’m being lifted. “Oh my god, this isbridalstyle,” I mutter. “You could have done a fireman’s lift for the sake of my dignity.”
“There’s no fucking way I want vomit down my back.”
“Oh my. This is just like being in a BBC period drama.Soromantic.”
“How is it that you are still being snarky?”
“It’s one of the fifteen wonders of the world.”
“There are only seven, unless they’ve added a few while I wasn’t paying attention.”
