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‘The Anniversary Party.’ The worry is clear in his tone and it bloody should be. I’m not going.
‘What about it?’ I ask nonchalantly. I’m not going to get myself worked up because I really, really am not ever, not in a million years, going. Never – no way. I want to turn myself back over, lay on his chest and put my lips back on his so he can’t talk.
‘I still want you to come.’
‘You can’t ask me to do that.’ I say calmly, but I’m feeling a little angry that he would even suggest such a stupid thing. Hang on…I agreed to this before I knew what The Manor really was, and Kate did too. Is she still going? I cringe. Bloody hell, she will as well. ‘You asked me to go before I knew.’
‘I gave myself a deadline to tell you.’ he says quietly.
‘Oh.’ I don’t know what to say. I found out before his time was up.
‘Are you going to avoid my workplace forever?’ he asks sarcastically. I don’t appreciate his tone of voice – not in the slightest.
‘I might do.’ I retort. Work place? Is he f**king kidding me?
‘Don’t be stupid, Ava.’ He recommences soaking me in water and presses a kiss to my temple. ‘Will you please just think about it?’
I sigh tiredly. ‘I’m making no promises, and if you even think about trying to f**k some sense into me on this, I’m leaving.’ I threaten. I’m being completely dramatic, but I want him to know how much I don’t want to go. The Manor anniversary party? Never.
He nuzzles my ear and wraps his legs around the outside of mine. ‘I want the woman with me who keeps my heart beating.’
Oh God! That’s emotional blackmail if ever there was any. How the hell can I say no to that? Damn you, Jesse Ward, of an age I don’t know.
I let him continue to wash me while I think about using this to my advantage. Maybe I could negotiate his age from him in return for my presence at The Manor’s anniversary party. I’ll think carefully about how much I want to know his age compared to how much I don’t want to go to the party. That’s a tricky one.
‘Did you speak to Clive?’ I ask. I know he hasn’t. I’m being sneaky.
‘About what?’
‘The mystery woman.’
‘No, Ava, I didn’t have time. I promise you I will ask, though. I’m just as curious as you are. Now, are you hungry?’ He circles his tongue around my ear. It could send me to sleep. At least he hasn’t lied about talking to Clive.
‘Yes.’ I answer on a yawn. I’m famished. And tired too, but I’m not giving in. ‘I’m not going to sleep until you tell me who that woman was.’
‘How can I tell you if I don’t know?’
‘You do know.’
‘I don’t f**king know!’
I jump at his harshness, and then feel his arms lock tighter around me. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Okay.’ I say quietly. But it’s not. I’ll speak to Clive in the morning.
‘My lovely lady is exhausted.’ he whispers. ‘Take away?’ He bites at my earlobe, smoothing the soles of his feet down my shins.
‘You have a fridge full of food, it’s a waste.’
‘Well, can you be bothered to cook?’ he asks.
No, I can’t, but I notice he doesn’t offer. Then again, he has openly admitted that cooking is one of the only things he’s crap at. What were his words? Oh yes…I can’t be amazing at everything. He was serious as well, the arrogant arse.
‘Take away.’ I agree.
He shifts under me. ‘I’ll go and order, you wash your hair.’ He lifts himself out of the bath and leaves me in the massive tub by myself. I watch his wet nakedness stroll out of the bathroom, returning a few moments later with some women’s shampoo and conditioner. I’m eternally grateful. My poor hair has been mistreated way too much lately. He gives me a grin and leans down to kiss my forehead. ‘Wear lace.’ He disappears out of the bathroom and I fall back in the tub, closing my eyes for a while and savouring the quiet and peaceful surroundings of the colossal master bathroom of Lusso. How did I end up here?
Chapter 8
I stretch myself out and I’m immediately aware of Jesse’s absence in the bed. Propping myself up on my elbows, I spy him sat on the chaise lounge, bending down.
Oh no!
I lay back down as quietly as I possibly can and shut my eyes. He might not have noticed I woke – if I’m lucky. After a few silent moments, I feel the bed dip, but I keep my eyes firmly shut, silently begging him to leave me alone.
An age of me pretending to be asleep passes by and he still hasn’t nudged me, so I cautiously open my eyes and find green pools of delight staring down at me. I groan, very loudly, as I watch the semblance of a small smile tickle his lips. I flip myself over onto my front and cover my head with a pillow, then hear him laugh as the pillow is whipped from my head and I’m turned over onto my back.
‘Good morning.’ he chirps, and I screw my face up in disgust at his cheery, break of dawn happiness.
‘Please don’t make me.’ I plead, pulling my most solemn face.
‘Up you get.’ He grabs my hand with his good one and pulls me into a sitting position. I make a big display of moaning in repulsion at his idea of starting the day, and then nearly start crying when he presents me with my freshly laundered running kit that he, so generously, bought me.
‘I want sleepy sex,’ I complain. ‘Please.’
He hoofs me off the bed and draws my lace knickers down my legs before tapping my ankles to lift. ‘It will do you good.’ he states firmly.
