Page 29 of Off Limits


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He nods. ‘Fine. He can take you there.’ Another tight smile. ‘You’re okay to let yourself out? I’m going to grab a shower.’

Jesus fucking Christ. Is he indeed?

‘I think I can find a door without a map,’ I drawl sarcastically, reaching for my phone without so much as a smile.

I flick it to life and load my emails, but the words swim before me like one big puddle of grey matter.

Which is what his brain is going to be against the crisp white wall if I don’t get the hell out of there.

He walks towards a door across the room and I continue staring at my phone. Yet I know he’s paused and is watching me. So I smile at an imagined joke on my phone, then pretend I’m typing a reply.

If you’d asked me an hour ago what could go wrong I would have said exactly this. Pushing past the boundaries we’ve always wisely obeyed, only to have Jack reinstating them just as fast as he’s able—brick by brick, blocking me out.

My fingers move over my phone but I’m play-acting, doing what I can to distract him from the fissures running through my heart, my hopes and my confidence.

Eventually Jack moves into the bathroom and I hear the shower running.

Arsehole.

It might have been the best sex I’ve ever had, but I’m pretty sure it was also the biggest mistake of my life.

Chapter Five

‘AMBER.’ I SMILE, meeting the redhead’s eyes with genuine interest.

Lucy’s sister is ten years older than Lucy was, and she has the same pale skin and dainty features—at least going from the photographs I’ve seen. Her eyes are enormous and brown, her smile slow but genuine. She is naturally plump and attractive.

I like her instantly.

‘The angelic Gemma,’ she responds, her Scottish accent thick. ‘I’ve been looking forward to meeting the woman who’s tamed my brother-in-law.’

Tamed him? Not bloody likely.

Flashbacks of the previous afternoon flood my brain and I push them away. I cannot think about how it felt to be made love to by Jack Grant. No—fucked by him. Fucked hard. So hard, so hot... Oh, my God. My insides clench with remembered need. It’s a visceral awareness, and actual biological need throbs through me on a cellular level. It’s every bit as compelling and real as thirst, starvation and fear. It is a need strong enough to fell me at the knees.

I swallow, hoping to calm my raging, insatiable desire. ‘I’m pretty sure he’s untameable,’ I say, with only a hint of desperation, gesturing that she should take a seat.

I’ve moved us to the small conference room on-site at The Mansion. Thankfully it’s nothing like the office in the City, with its modern decor and imposing outlook. This is a room far more fitted to an ancient home on the edge of Hampstead. Still expensive, with luxurious leather recliners, but homely, somehow.

‘Put up with him, then. You must have the patience of a saint.’

‘I must,’ I agree.

‘Gemma is actually very impatient.’

His voice enters the room before he does, and I straighten in the chair.

‘If I don’t give her what she wants straightaway she begs me until I give in.’

My cheeks flame and I’m grateful that Amber is standing and moving across the room towards Jack—arsehole that he is. How dare he say something so bloody obvious? I know we’re both thinking of how I begged him to make love to me the day before.

My eyes cling to Jack and Amber, morbidly fascinated, as they embrace. It’s a hug of true affection and, yes, grief is there, too. He’s wearing navy blue pants and a pale blue shirt which he’s rolled up to just below the elbows. It’s a linen material, and it’s crinkled a little around the chest, showing he’s been sitting in it for quite some time.

He keeps an arm around Amber’s waist as they walk deeper into the room. She takes an armchair opposite me and he sits beside her, facing me, aligning himself with her.

They are family. I’m the outsider.

It hurts. Possibly even more than the showering-straight-after-sex thing.

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