Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
I stop just short of her office, looking in the reflection of the shop window next door, fixing my collar. My eyes lift to my hair. And something beyond catches my eye on the other side of the road. I frown, squinting, moving closer to the window. I lose sight of the woman when a lorry rumbles past, and I turn, scanning the pavement on the other side of the street. Nothing.
“Losing my fucking mind.” I shake my head, pulling the cuffs of my shirt out from beneath the sleeves of my jacket as I look up and down the road, feeling a little edgy. It’s not surprising after the morning I’ve had.
When I feel composed enough, I enter, unable to stop myself from taking one last look across the street, my shoulders rolling. Ava’s voice soon pulls me back round, and it melts into my skin, settling me a little. I tilt my head, admiring her, as the turmoil within calms. Finding her here, however, doesn’t dampen the annoyance. I close the door quietly, and I don’t announce myself. For now, I simply watch her talking, so animated. Passionate about her work.
She eventually hangs up and swings around.
Freezes.
Eyes wide but at the same time thrilled. It makes me smile. She knew this would end only one way, and that way would never be me letting her keep the power.
“How lovely to see you, Ava.” I offer my hand, the one that’s sore as fuck, and make sure she gets a prime view of the damage she’s done. My hand is only the half of it. She should see the state of my fucking mind.
She stares at the mess, remorse steaming forward. It’s a relief, and when she looks up, I nod mildly, relishing her sorrowful eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she says as she places her hand in mine.
“I know you are.” I’m about to advise her of all the ways she will be apologizing when her boss appears.
“Ah, Mr. Ward.”
Ava pulls free from my hand hastily, her discomfort multiplying, but for another reason. It stokes the simmering irritation. When exactly is she going to share our relationship, because I’m so done tiptoeing around her job and her boss?
“How very good to see you,” he chimes. “I was just asking Ava if she had heard from you.”
Oh? Interesting. And what did Ava say? I can guarantee it wasn’t anything to do with being head over heels in love with me. “Mr. Peterson, how are you?”
“Very good, how was your business trip?”
My business trip? She’s spun some bullshit about me being away? And if I’m away, she can’t crack on with the project. “I secured my assets,” I say quietly, flicking a knowing glance Ava’s way. She won’t be avoiding The Manor anymore, and we need to have a serious talk about hiding our relationship from her boss. “Did you receive the deposit I made?”
“Yes, absolutely. Thank you.”
“Good, as I said before, I’m eager to get things moving. My unexpected trip”—to heaven and hell and all the places in between—“has put us a bit behind.”
“Of course, I’m sure Ava will sort you out.” Ava’s boss moves in and rubs at her shoulder, and I find my eyes rooting there. What is she, a fucking pet?
“I’m sure she will,” I say. “I was going to ask Ava if she would like to join me for some brunch so we can go over a few things.” I smile. “You don’t mind?”
“Be my guest.”
“Actually,” Ava interjects, motioning to the open diary on her desk. “I have an appointment at lunchtime.”
I swallow hard, my eyes fixed on the penciled-in meeting at noon today. With Mikael Van Der Haus. Oh Jesus. “That’s not until noon.” I look up at Ava, making sure she sees the resoluteness in my expression. I try to mask the irritation. And fail. “I won’t keep you too long.” Fuck, what am I going to do? I’m sure it’s no coincidence that Ava’s meeting him today, just days after Freja made some indirect threats. Fuck.
“There you go.” Peterson leaves us. “It was nice to see you, Mr. Ward.”
Was it? Fuck my life. Fuck Van Der Haus. Fuck Freja. And fuck you, Peterson.
I find Ava again, noting her nerves. Oh, she has no idea. “Shall we?” I slip my hands in my pockets to restrain them from claiming her and carting her out of here, straight back to Lusso where there are no work commitments and no Lothario Danes waiting in the wings to snare her.
And handcuffs. No handcuffs.
She starts collecting her things, nervous, and I open the door for her, willing myself to smile. Dazzle her. Make her fall that little bit more. But at the same time, she absolutely needs to know that I will not tolerate behavior like this morning again. I’ll keel over.