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)
‘Ours!’ he corrects. ‘What time?’
‘Six-ish.’ Give or take an hour, I add to myself.
‘You like that tag on, don’t you? Ish…’ He narrows his eyes on me, and I feel scrutinised. He can’t possibly know my plans. Only Kate knows.
‘ish.’ I counter, leaning on him for a kiss.
He grabs me and leans me back over his arm in a ridiculous theatrical performance before kissing the life out of me in the middle of Berkeley Square. People sidestep us and tut as they pass, but I couldn’t give a toss.
‘God, I fucking love, love, love you.’ he says against my lips.
I grin. ‘I know you do.’
He pulls me back up to a vertical position and then buries his face in my neck to chew my ear. ‘I can’t get enough of you. Let me take you home.’
I know he can’t, he’s pretty open on that fact, and I’m so tempted to jump work and let him. I’ve not got a massive amount to see to, nothing that can’t wait, and I’m loving his mood – demands aside.
My phone starts singing, snapping me from my rebellious brainwave, and I fish around in my bag while letting Jesse stick to my neck. When I lay my hands on it, I hold it above Jesse’s head to see who it is. I groan. Of all the times Mikael could call, he calls now?
Jesse must detect my uneasiness because he instantly pulls back and looks at me with an enquiring eye. ‘Who is it?’
‘Oh, just a client.’ I shove my phone in my bag. I’ll call him back. ‘I’ll see you at your place.’ I go to walk away, but he grasps my wrist.
‘Damn it, Ava. OURS! Who was it?’ His sudden change of temper catches me off guard.
‘It’s Mikael,’ I grate. ‘Just a client.’ I add, to reinforce Mikael’s status in my life. This might be one side of Jesse that I cannot cure; his insane jealousy and possessiveness. I yank my wrist free from him and start the short remaining distance to my office, leaving Jesse on the pavement. And he called me the green eyed monster?
My phone starts ringing again, and I retrieve it as I enter the office. ‘Mikael,’ I greet.
‘Ava, I’m calling to confirm our Monday appointment.’ His soft voice seeps into my ears. Jesse might see him as a threat, but he’s not, although his voice is really quite sexy. ‘Would midday suit?’ he asks.
I collapse in my chair and swivel to face my desk, horrified to find Jesse stood over me, prowling like a raging beast, his chest heaving. He looks incensed. I scan the office and see Tom and Victoria sat at their desks watching intently, making no attempt to hide their interest. Then I glance over my shoulder to find Patrick in his office, but, thank God, he’s oblivious, looking completely wrapped up in something on his computer screen.
‘Ava?’
With the impending drama unfolding before my eyes, I forgot that I’m in the middle of a business call. ‘Mikael, I’m sorry,’ I look up at Jesse questioningly, but he ignores me, continuing with his menacing performance with no regard for our location or spectators. ‘Yes, fine.’ I try and sound professional and assertive. I fail miserably. I sound edgy and nervous.
‘Are you okay?’ His question throws me. Clearly I don’t sound okay.
‘Yes, fine, thank you.’
‘Good. So, you broke your own rule?’
My heart skips a few beats. ‘Pardon?’ I squeeze the word through my sudden nervous breathing.
‘Jesse Ward. He’s a client, yes?’
I don’t know what to say. No, he wasn’t a client, not when I was working on Lusso, but I’m not stupid enough to point that out. Mikael knows I’m supposed to be working for Jesse. Supposed to be. I haven’t been back to The Manor yet, and Jesse hasn’t pushed it. ‘Yes.’ It’s the only word I can think of.
‘How long you have been seeing him?’
My blood runs cold as I search my brain for the right thing to say. ‘Urhhh, a month-ish.’ I stammer down the phone. Why is he asking this?
‘Hmmm. That’s very interesting.’ he replies.
My blood runs even colder. Why would that be very interesting? I’m still staring into the green eyes of the man I would die for, and I’ve got another man on the end of the phone sounding like he’s got something to tell me – something that’s going to send me crashing and burning from Central Jesse Cloud Nine, not that I’m on it at this particular point in time.
‘Why would it be?’ I ask. I sound terribly nervous, which is fine because I am. What does he know?
‘We will discuss that when we meet.’
‘Okay.’ I hang up. That was unbelievably rude, but I don’t know what else to do or say. Jesse is crowding my desk, looking like he might rip my head off, but for what? Bloody hell, in the space of five minutes, we’ve gone from cavorting on the pavement to a Mexican stand-off.