Total pages in book: 214
Estimated words: 202638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1013(@200wpm)___ 811(@250wpm)___ 675(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 202638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1013(@200wpm)___ 811(@250wpm)___ 675(@300wpm)
I remember his eyes bulging, his jaw ticking when he spotted my appointment in my diary. It wasn’t because I replaced the damn thing. It was because Mikael’s name was plastered all over it. ‘How do you know? He’s married. Well, was married.’
‘That never stopped him before, Ava.’
‘It hasn’t?’ I thought he was a decent bloke, a gentleman. I couldn’t have been more wrong. I’m in absolute mental meltdown. I can’t possibly work with Mikael now – not after discovering this. For a start, Jesse won’t let me within a mile of the man, and secondly, I don’t want to be anywhere near him, anyway. He wants to purposely hurt Jesse and is intending to use me as a tool to do this. He wants revenge and I’m Jesse’s only weak spot. Oh God, I’m supposed to be meeting him on Monday. This is going to get horribly messy. I want to yell at Jesse for not keeping it in his pants, but then my mind naturally shoots back to the day I discovered The Manor’s true happenings. That nasty creature who was being ejected by John, bawling on about husbands and conscience not getting in Jesse’s way. How many marriages has he broken? How many husbands out there want revenge?
I’m snapped from my unwelcome thoughts when Jesse cups my face with his hand. ‘How did you get here?’
I grin. ‘I distracted your appointed guard.’
His eyes sparkle, his lips twitch. ‘I shall have to sack him. How did you manage that?’
I lose my grin when I consider the repair bill Jesse will be getting. ‘Jesse, he’s sixty, if a day. I disconnected his telephone system so he couldn’t advise you of my escape from your tower in the sky.’
‘Our tower. Disconnected?’ His frown line is light across his forehead.
I bury my face back in his chest. ‘I ripped the wires out.’
‘Oh.’ he says flatly, but I know he’s suppressing a laugh.
‘What are you playing at getting a pensioner to try and keep me indoors?’ I ask accusingly. I could have outrun Clive, even in my heels.
He strokes my hair softy. ‘I didn’t want you to leave.’
‘Well, you should’ve stayed yourself then.’ I pull his shirt out of his trousers and slide my hands up to get my fix of his warm chest. He tightens his hold of me, and I feel his beating heart under my palms. It’s so comforting.
‘I was crazy mad.’ He sighs. ‘You make me crazy mad.’ He kisses my temple and burrows deeply into my hair. I shake my head in dismay. ‘Don’t shake your head at me, lady.’ he says in a stern, muffled voice, which I completely ignore.
‘How’s your hand?’
‘It would be fine if I didn’t keep smashing it into things.’ he answers dryly.
I wriggle free of his embrace. ‘Let me see.’ I sit up on his lap and he pulls his hand from behind me to rest between our bodies. I gingerly take it. He doesn’t wince, but I flick him a quick glace to check his face isn’t pained.
‘I’m fine.’ he assures me.
‘You smashed the elevator door.’ I say, stroking his recovering fist. It’s in a million pieces and I expected his hand to be too, but it’s not as bad as I thought it would be.
‘I was really mad.’
‘You already told me that. What about the hijacking of my office this afternoon? Where you crazy mad then?’ Perhaps I should disregard his little hissy fit, especially since I’ve just thrown a woman out of his office.
‘Yes, I was,’ He narrows his eyes on me, but then he grins. ‘A bit like you were just now.’
‘I wasn’t mad, Jesse.’ I look at his damaged hand with the pity I feel for the pathetic woman I’ve just evicted from his office. ‘I was marking what’s mine. She wants you. She couldn’t have been more obvious if she’d straddled you and thrust her tits in your face.’ I screw my face up in disgust at her desperation, looking up to find his grin has broken out into a full on, Hollywood worthy beam. This smile is a step up from his one reserved only for women. This smile is reserved only for me. I can’t help the little smile tickling the corners of my mouth. ‘You look very happy with yourself.’
He brushes me away from fussing over his hand. ‘Oh, I am. I like it when you’re all possessive and protective. It tells me you’re crazy in love with me.’
‘I am, even though you are stupidly challenging. And don’t be calling Sarah, sweetie.’ I mock.
He circles our noses and pushes his lips onto mine. ‘I won’t.’
‘You’ve slept with her.’ It’s a statement, not a question. He recoils, his green pools all wide and wary. I roll my eyes. ‘A dabble?’ I ask.
His eyes drop down slightly. ‘Yeah,’ His expression and body language scream uncomfortable. He’s not happy with this line of conversation.