Total pages in book: 204
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
Reclaim?
Ensure she never has the opportunity to escape me again?
“Fuck me, Ward. You have issues,” I mutter, taking mild comfort from the fact that I’m recognizing that. My eyes are nailed to the man’s hands resting on Ava’s shoulders as I approach them, my jaw virtually in spasm from the effort it’s taking me not to growl at the fucker. He spots me, and his eyes definitely widen. Good. Yes, you should be very worried. Get your fucking hands off her. He leans into Ava and whispers something, and she’s quick to shrug off his hold. Good girl. She’s also quick to turn and find me. Good girl. Then she rolls her eyes at me. Not such a good girl.
“Tom, this is Mr. Ward. Mr. Ward, Tom.” She motions to the man, who looks less wary now, more delighted. “He’s a colleague,” she tells me. “He’s also gay.”
I don’t have a moment to offer my hand. He’s on me like a lion, his lips on my cheek. Whoa, mate. I remain still, as stiff as a board. He’s a bit . . . friendly.
“It really is a pleasure,” he chants, pulling away and copping a good feel of my biceps. “Tell me, do you work out?”
It’s me rolling my eyes now, and I scowl at Ava when she laughs before pivoting and leaving me with her very enthusiastic work colleague. “From time to time,” I say, reminding myself that this guy is obviously friends with Ava, and I need all the support I can get.
“You’re very well formed.” He steps back, smiling at me. “If it wasn’t obvious you’ve got your sights set on someone else, I’d ask if you’d like to join me for a drink.”
I can’t help my small smile. Oh, I have my sights set on someone, make no mistake. I cock my head when I see Ava disappear into the kitchen. “Nice talking, Tom,” I say, moving past him and heading toward the kitchen.
“Where the hell have you been?” Sarah intercepts me, her eyes accusing. “I’m bored out of my mind. Can we leave now?”
“Feel free to leave when you want.” I see Ava approaching an older man, who passes her a glass of champagne. How many has she had this evening? I could taste it on her tongue, and I saw her car outside. She better not even think about driving anywhere.
Sarah moves in my peripheral vision, turning to see what has my undivided attention. “Ah. The designer,” she purrs. “The young designer.”
I wish she would shut the fuck up. I toss her a tired look, am about to tell her to clear off back to The Manor and go whip the living daylights out of some poor, sick bastard, but someone catches my eye. And I’m all stiff again, holding back my growl. “What the fuck?” I murmur.
“What?” Sarah asks, her attention back on me.
“Nothing.” Fucking hell, I need to leave before I go on a rampage and drag Ava out of here.
Mikael Van Der Haus moves in, his smarmy, suggestive smile being lavished all over Ava. I wouldn’t be worried, but Van Der Haus’s marriage is over. And I know that for a fact because his wife told me. And she told me because she was a guest at The Manor.
Ava glances over her shoulder and spots me, and I fight to soften my features. She looks away before I can. They chat for a bit, and the tension inside me builds and builds. My feet are shifting, my fists clenching. “I’m going to the bathroom.” I leave Sarah and take the stairs back to the main suite quickly, closing the door behind me. Removing myself from the situation was my only option. Jesus, he knows what The Manor is, what goes on there. His wife has been in my bed, something I hadn’t cared about given his out-of-marriage activities. Cluing Van Der Haus in on my relationship with Ava would be bad news. Shit, it’s one thing after another, a pile of problems adding to all the fucking issues I have already. I’ve never questioned my lifestyle. It was the only way for me to deal with my torrid past. The only way to temporarily eliminate the torment.
I look around the space I had Ava in not twenty minutes ago. But it feels like centuries. The rush has disappeared completely. I need it back.
I go to the mirror and splash my face with cold water, hoping it’ll cool me down in many ways. Then I head back downstairs, praying Van Der Haus has fucked off so I can get Ava and leave. The place is still bustling, people chatting, drinking, eating canapes, laughing. But no Ava.
“Looking for someone?” Sarah asks, joining me as I continue to scan the space.
“Don’t be a dick, Sarah. Have you seen her?” I pull my phone out, ready to dial Ava and track her down.