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Sickness builds in my stomach. I can tell he’s nervous about the TV appearance tomorrow but I think it’s more than that. Has he realized I’m not right for him? Or, like me, is he dreading tomorrow because it is day fourteen, our last day together?
‘You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you?’
I look at Kerry through clouded eyes. I don’t answer her question. There’s no need. I know the answer will be written all over my face. I’m in love with him.
‘You can always come back, babe. You don’t have to stay in London forever.’
Right on cue, my mobile rings and ‘Mummy’ lights up the screen. I silence her – again. I know she will be freaking out after seeing my blog. She’s my mother; she’ll know there’s something going on between Brooks and me. And she’ll hate it. Since I already know that, what’s the point in hearing it from her?
A text message follows the call and I delete it after reading the words:
Isabella Coulthard, you are ignoring me and I will not stand for it.
Kerry and I part ways and I go in search of Brooks.
‘Are you ready to get some results?’ he asks when I reach his office. A distraction.
‘Yes, sure. Are we doing it here?’
He flashes me a sly look. ‘Doing the tests here!’ He chuckles. The sound thaws the ice that is starting to build around my heart to protect me from what is coming. ‘We can take a few measurements here. We’ll use the scales downstairs. I don’t think we need much, just something to talk about tomorrow. Do you agree?’
‘I do. Now, take that shirt off,’ I say with a wink that has him laughing again.
I kick his office door shut and he draws the blinds before pulling his T-shirt off over his head. Taking the measuring tape from him, I close the space between us, knowing the one thing that will make me feel better about tomorrow is having his arms around me now, being with him completely.
Standing in front of him, I bring the measuring tape around his back and across his chest, my fingertips gently trailing his skin. I write down the size of his chest, then move to his side, wrapping the tape around his bicep, pressing my lips to his shoulder as I work. Bending to my knees, I pull down his shorts until his thighs are exposed. I nip the skin in my teeth while working out the girth of his solid quads.
‘Izzy, if you don’t stop, this is only going to end one way.’
I look up at him through my lashes and see the lust on his face, as if it is a mirror of my own. With my eyes on him, I run my hands up his legs and press my lips to his navel, his abs, his sternum. I need this.
Wrapping my ponytail around his hand, he pulls me up to him and crashes his mouth against mine with a growl.
‘You’re so fucking beautiful, Izzy.’
‘Be with me,’ I whisper. ‘I need you. I can’t stand the thought that tomorrow—’
He takes my mouth again, even more ferociously. All I can think of is him. Not tomorrow. Not the what ifs. Just him. Us.
He lifts me onto the edge of his desk. Just as we are about to really get into this, a knock on the office door startles us both to stillness, both of us looking at the unopened door. I’m sure we’re both thinking we should have locked it.
‘Brooks? There’s someone calling on the main line asking for you.’
Brooks shakes his head quickly, as if trying to clear it. ‘Charlie, Izzy and I are just doing some measurements. We won’t be much longer. Can you take a message?’
I slap my hands across my mouth to stop my laughter from escaping.
‘You got it.’
Brooks takes my hands from my mouth, pulling me up to sit as my amusement finally escapes and is matched by his. He pulls my top over my head, then holds me to him, his skin on mine. His amusement fades from his dark, hooded eyes and he kisses me slowly, deeply.
I feel like everything is charged around us, like I’m on fire, melting into this man who I am, without a shadow of doubt, 100 per cent in love with.
He tightens his hold on me and presses kisses to my hair. ‘I wish we were in my bed so I wouldn’t have to let you go.’
‘Me too.’
* * *
