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“Fuck,” I hiss, grabbing a pillow and smashing it on my head repeatedly until I’m at risk of splitting the damn thing and sending goose feathers everywhere. I toss it aside and look at the bathroom door. What is she doing in there? What is she thinking?Stupid, Ward. So fucking stupid.I growl at myself and slump into the mattress, arms splayed.
I hear the chain flush and drop my eyes to the door. She appears, awkward as hell. “I should go. Kate will be wondering where I am.”
Make it right!“Maybe I’d like to keep you here.” So I say that? Jesus, I need to get myself a fucking psychiatrist fast before I fuck this chance up good and proper.
Her questioning face is warranted. Poor thing looks completely lost. Goes for me too, because since she escaped my bed, I feel like my arms have been ripped off.
“She needs my car,” she goes on, ignoring my statement, as she should. Because it’s unreasonable. “Will you take me?”
I drag a smile from nowhere and mentally vow to pull myself into line. “What do you say?” I ask teasingly.
Her grin is like a pressure release in my head. “Please.”
I jump up. “Good girl. Give me five.” I land a smacker of a kiss on her lips as I pass her to the bathroom, keeping our lips touching as I walk back. She moves with me, prolonging it until we’re in the doorway.
Back. In. The. Game.
Now I just need to ensure I stay in front.
I wretch myself away, and she staggers forward a little, dazed, breathless, and flushed. I leave her exactly like that, grinning as I turn and flip on the shower. I’m fully aware I’m rushing, eager to get back to her and make the most of the time I have left with her today. Which isn’t fucking long. But I need to be patient. Don’t crowd her too much. I laugh at myself as I grab a towel and dry off, not bothering to trim my stubble. It’ll take up valuable time. I throw on some shorts, a Ralph polo, and flip the collar up as I assess myself in the mirror. I look younger. Fresher. Alive. It’s no wonder. Last night and this morning, minus that little blip, was the most incredible experience.
I fetch my phone and my mood dips in an instant when I see endless missed calls from Coral. I need to block her number. Maybe even get a restraining order.Fuck my life.
I go in search of Ava, finding her crouched on the floor in the kitchen. She looks up. Practically drools. My chest expands. I’m smug.Yeah, I thought I looked good today too.Younger. Hotter. It’s Ava. The effects of Ava.
I quickly pull my swelling head out of my arse when I realize what she’s doing.
“I need to go,” she says, her hands full of glass.
For fuck’s sake, has she no regard for her well-being? I inhale my annoyance, swallowing it back. The last thing I want to do is leave her on a bad note. No. I’ll be leaving her to wish all day that she hadn’t been a stubborn minx last night and refused to spend the day with me. “Here.” I dip and cup my hands for her to transfer the shards to me before I tip them in the sink. “You should have left it, Ava. You could’ve cut yourself.” I brush my hands off and grab my shades. “I’ll sort it later.” I take her hand, get my keys and her bags, and lead her out.
“Are you working today?” she asks, and I grimace.
“No, not much goes on at The Manor during the day,” I say, wiping away yet more annoyance and flipping her a cheeky wink. I don’t know where the fuck that came from. Why the fuck am I winking? Probably to stop myself from growling. I don’t want to go to The Manor. I want to spend the day with her.
I open the door and find the removal men outside. “Mr. Ward?”
I walk Ava past them. “The boxes in the spare room go first. My housekeeper will be here shortly to assist with the rest. Be careful with the ski and bike equipment.”
“You have a housekeeper?” Ava asks.
“She’s the only woman I couldn’t live without.” Literally. “She’s off to Ireland next week to visit her family. It’ll all fall apart then.”
“Fall apart how?” she asks, and I throw a smile back at her.
“I’m not the most domesticated man in the world.” Will that be another reason to add to her list of reasons to repel me? Does she want a house-trained bloke who will cook, clean, and iron? I laugh to myself. Every modern woman wants that. But surely bedroom skills trump domestic skills? And if it doesn’t, it should. Because I’m a master of former, and I’m pretty fucking certain Ava will agree. “I’m better at sex,” I mutter to myself, returning my attention forward.
I help her into the passenger seat and put her bags in the boot before jumping in beside her. “Sure I can’t convince you to spend the day with me?” I dazzle her with an irresistible smile, reaching for her knee and gently caressing it.
“I’m sure,” she says slowly, narrowing her eyes, taking my hand and removing it.
I scowl playfully, but deep down it’s a thorough, pissed-off scowl.
Stubborn.
When we pull up outside Lusso, I get out and breathe in the clear air, looking up the front of the building. I’ve got a good feeling about this place. I get Ava’s bags out, passing her purse before I load the others in her Mini, all the while my mind spinning with potential ideas to change her mind. I don’t know when I’m going to see her again, and I have a horrible feeling she’ll keep me hanging. I turn and find her attention on her phone, and I sink my teeth into my lip, thinking.What to do, what to do?
She looks up. Stills. Takes me in. Then visibly shakes herself out of her awestruck state. God, she’s infuriating. She opens the door of her Mini and slips in, but before she can pull the door closed, I’m crouched beside her.
