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Parties don’t exactly fill me with enthusiasm right now, but Christmas is approaching, and I imagine there are several in the diary of celebrity jeweller and all-round brilliant, handsome guy, Max de Vries. “Will it be attended by all the rich and famous?”
“A large number of them. I’ve offered aMdVbracelet for auction.”
“That’s very generous. Which leads me to ask how is the designing going?”
“The board love me again.”
I laugh, pleased. “So they should.”
He grins. “I’ll arrange for some dresses for you to try on.”
My original thoughts focused on finding something in my wardrobe, or failing that, the boutiques in Cambridge. But being on Max’s arm—at a high-society event—requires more effort than that. “You can do that?”
His chuckle is low and warm. “I can give you anything and everything, Ava, if you’ll just let me.”
“Aren’t I doing that?” I ask, a little amused.
He looks at me indulgently. “I can’t help myself where you’re concerned. Whatever you give me will never be enough.”
I kiss him softly on the mouth. Max demands so much from me it’s no wonder I told Dave I can’t live up to this relationship. But I will damn well give it my best, which includes letting Max dress me up. “How about some advice on what to wear?”
“I’ll organise a selection. Send me your measurements and I’ll pass them on to the fashion police.”
“The fashion police?”
“It’s how I refer to personal shoppers and wardrobe assistants. They can get a bit over-zealous.”
“Surely they’re no different to this Head of Design guy I know, a renowned perfectionist by all accounts.”
“Oh yeah? Got a reputation has he?”
“You should hear the stories they say about him.”
He takes a deep breath, looking off down the road at a passing car. “I hope for all his faults he’s redeemable.”
“Very,” I assure him, running my palms over his chest. I don’t understand why he’s not cold without a jacket on. Concern over his lack of clothes aside, his words have me off-kilter. “This weekend, I want to be with you, Max.”
His head dips, his lips brushing mine. When he pulls back, he looks into my eyes for any uncertainty. “Don’t expect me to let you go afterwards,” he murmurs, his lips chasing kisses across my jaw and throat. “At the very minimum, you need to stay three nights. Anything less won’t be enough.”
A smile breaks free at his dark statement. And his lips are wicked, teasing me with a precursor as to how those three nights will be spent.
Earlier, Dave was right to be concerned.
Saying no to Max is impossible.
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
AVA
For several weeksafter I was found, I would cry at everything, especially TV programmes with violence towards women. I would just slip away to a place I couldn’t easily find my way back from. I know I’m a survivor and not a victim, that’s one thing I learned from the support groups, but some days I couldn’t distinguish between one and the other. And although I didn’t know why those things triggered me, it was clear that somewhere deep inside me, I remembered.
Counselling sessions with Dave have helped me cope, but Ineedanswers.
Outside of that, I wallow in my feelings for Max. When I return to his Highgate house, I worry I’ll have mixed emotions. Here, being with Max, my memories are stronger and more accessible. And while I need to meet them head-on, the prospect is terrifying.
Our reunion at the station was indecent, Max kissing me so passionately I was sure someone was going to catcall. For the entire drive here we held hands at the console, Max drawing a thumb over the back of my hand in maddening circles. Everything feels so warm and enticing, my body languid and primed.
I don’t know if I can wait until tonight; my body craves his unrelentingly.
