Beneath This Man (52 page)

He sits up and drags me onto his lap. ‘Why don’t you go to The Manor for a drink?’

‘Absolutely not!’ I splutter.

‘Why?’ He looks insulted.

‘So you can keep an eye on me?’

‘It’s logical. You can have a drink, I can make sure you’re safe, and then I can bring you home.’

He really does make it sound logical, but I’m not making a rod for my own back. I’ll never step foot in a bar ever again. ‘No. End of.’ I say firmly.

He pouts, and I shake my head to affirm my answer. And anyway, she will be there, throwing her looks and nasty little comments about. Not a chance.

‘Impossible woman.’ he sulks, standing with me in his arms. I’m placed on my feet and given a chaste kiss. ‘I’m going to get a shower, you’ll come.’ He arches a suggestive eyebrow and hits me with his roguish grin. I don’t mind so much when he demands things like that.

‘I’ve had a shower.’

‘Well you’ll have another with me.’

‘I’ll be up in a minute. I need to call Kate.’ I pull myself from his grip and make my way back to the kitchen. ‘Where’s my phone?’

‘Charging on the side. Don’t be long.’ he calls after me.

I find my phone and ring Kate.

‘Hello?’ Her croaky voice comes over the phone. She sounds hung over.

‘Hey, feeling bad?’ I ask.

‘No, tired. What time is it?’

I glance at the oven. ‘Eleven.’

‘Shit!’ she exclaims, and I hear a commotion in the background. ‘Samuel, you loser. I’m late! Ava, I’m supposed to be in Chelsea delivering a cake! I’ll call you later.’

‘Hey, are we still out tonight?’ I shout before she hangs up on me.

‘Of course. Are you still allowed?’ she teases.

‘Yes! I’ll be at yours at seven.’

‘Brill! See you then.’

I hang up and my phone immediately alerts me of a text message. I open it as the penthouse monitor system starts bleeping at me. Walking over to the cordless device that will connect me to Clive, I glance down to my screen.

My blood runs cold. It’s Mikael.

I don’t want to look at it, but my thumb presses down on the open button before I can convince my brain to delete it without reading it.

I can’t make Monday. I’m back in Denmark temporarily. I will be in touch upon my return to re-arrange our meeting.

My stomach flies up to my mouth, choking me, and my phone starts to shake in my hand. What the hell am I going to do? I don’t even consider advising Jesse of this. He’ll spiral into meltdown, without a doubt. I delete the message immediately, knowing Jesse’s bad phone manners will have him finding it. I don’t reply either. At least I’ve got a bit more time to figure this out and to speak to Patrick. How long will he be gone? How long have I got to prepare for that meeting? I contemplate texting him back to tell him I already know about his wife and Jesse, but then the intercom shrieks again, startling me.

I answer to Clive. ‘Ava, there’s a delivery here for you. I’ll be up in a minute.’

I don’t have a chance to ask what it is or who it’s from. Clive hangs up. I walk back into the kitchen, apprehensive and nervous, and start scrolling through my phone, searching for the PIN facility so I can prevent Jesse from intercepting any more messages that Mikael might send. He’s going to get so suspicious when he finds it’s got a lock on it, but I would rather deal with his slighted state than deal with a six foot three inch whirlwind flying through the penthouse. He knows that his bad phone manners annoy me, so it shouldn’t be very difficult to brush this off. I have no other choice.

I make my way to the door. I’ll deal with this on Monday morning when Jesse isn’t within such close proximity of me and my phone. Until then, I need to put on an unaffected, relaxed face, and I really must speak to Patrick.

I open the door and hear the elevator arrive, then the unmistakable sound of Clive grumbling. Curiously walking towards the elevator, I find Clive heaving box after box and bag after bag.

‘Ava, you have a serious problem. I think you are what they call a shopaholic. Do you want it all inside?’ he huffs.

‘Urh, yeah.’ I look and see Harrods bags and gift boxes everywhere. What the hell?  I’m like a spare part, holding the door open, mouth gaped, as Clive hoofs them all through and dumps them in the penthouse.

I can’t believe he’s done this. Why didn’t I suspect something was amiss when he so willingly let me have my way when bargaining with him? Or let me think I got my way, more to the point. The man must have blown a ridiculous amount of money yesterday.

Clive dumps the last bag and starts making his way back to the door. ‘That’s your lot. Was there anything left?’

I look bewilderedly up at Clive’s back. ‘Pardon?’

He turns and frowns. ‘At the store, did you buy them out?’

‘Urhhh, yeah. Thanks, Clive.’

‘Oh, a young lady stopped by.’ Clive informs me, but then instantly snaps his mouth shut, obviously realising his error.

That soon snaps me from my dazed state. ‘Really?’ I blurt.

His old eyes are wide. ‘Urm…I don’t know…’ He starts walking back. ‘Actually, maybe it was for a different resident. Can’t be sure.’ He laughs nervously. ‘It’s my age.’

‘Yeah, whatever, Clive. Short black hair?’ I ask. He said
mature
when referring to the blonde wavy one, who I now know to be Mikael’s wife – or ex-wife.

‘Can’t be sure, Ava.’

I actually feel a little sorry for him. The poor man shouldn’t have to deal with this. ‘Let’s keep this quiet, shall we?’

‘Oh?’ He looks relieved.

‘Yes, you don’t tell Jesse about the
young
woman, and I won’t tell anyone about our neighbours habits.’

He sucks in a sharp gasp. Oh yes. I play dirty, old man. I walk over and shut the door in his face. Can my poor brain cope with much more. I’m not telling Jesse. I don’t want him contacting Coral, helping her, seeing her. I’m brimming with uncertainties and fear, battling raging jealousy and I’ve just set myself up for a lifetime of this. I agreed to marry him. Am I stupid?

Jesse’s phone starts screaming from the kitchen, and I find myself following the ringtone until I‘m stood at the island looking down at the screen. I knew who it would be before I even got a glimpse of the display. Rightly or wrongly, I answer it, disregarding my conscience that is currently advising me I’m a hypocrite.

‘Coral?’ I say, evenly and clearly. There is silence, but she doesn’t hang up. ‘Coral, what do you want?’

‘Is Jesse there?’ Her voice is small, and I’m a touched surprised that she hasn’t hung up. I realise now that I was expecting her to, once she heard my voice. Maybe I just wanted her to be aware that I’m aware, I don’t know, but she’s certainly got some balls.

‘He’s in the shower. Can I help you?’ I sound polite, but with an edge of irritation.

‘No, I need to speak to him.’ She doesn’t sound polite. She sounds affronted.

‘Coral, you need to stop bothering him.’ I need to make myself clear here, seeming as Jesse has suddenly grown a conscience.

‘Ava, isn’t it?’ she asks.

I’m not sure I like her tone. ‘That’s right.’ I try to maintain my evenness, but I have no idea where this conversation is leading and it’s making me incredibly nervous.

‘Ava, he’ll make you need him, then abandon you. Walk away while you still can.’ She hangs up.

I stand with Jesse’s phone still suspended at my ear, my eyes darting around the kitchen, my mind swamped again. I can’t walk away. Not now, not ever. And he would never let me; I don’t want to. I try to convince my brain that she is just envious, all of these women are jealous and slighted because Jesse played them all off, used them and tossed them away when he was bored or finished with them. That’s the logical reason. I know how I felt when I was without him, so if that is how all of these women feel, then I completely get it. I also feel very sorry for them, but it’s not my fault they can’t stand the fact that he has changed his ways for me – not for any one of them…for me. He has stopped drinking for me. He has stopped his dabbling for me. It’s his history, a nasty history, but it’s his history, nevertheless. It’s all historical, and I can’t hold his past against him. I straighten my shoulders in my own little private display of determination. I will never walk away from him. He has made me need him, but I know he needs me too. I’m going nowhere.

Sliding his phone on the counter, I walk back into the living space and I’m instantly reminded of what had my brain in meltdown before the call from Coral. I stand with my arms hugging my body, looking at the mountain of shopping bags and boxes before me. I don’t know whether to be excited or furious. He disregards my opinions and wishes at every turn, with his neurotic, challenging ways, and now I fear I’m becoming neurotic and challenging as well. He brings out the worst in me, and I know damn well I bring out the worst in him. John said as much. Easygoing, laidback Jesse Ward? No such man exists. Well, he does, when I’m complying, I saw him last night, but its times like this I easily forget about that man.

I kneel on the floor and gingerly poke one of the bags, peeking inside cautiously, like something could jump out and attack me. Huh? That wasn’t in my like pile. I pull out a silk, navy Calvin Klein dress. That was in my maybe pile. I open a box and find a Chloe, structured, cream and black dress. That was in the no pile. It was way over my set price threshold.

Oh no. They’ve mixed it all up. I pull another bag towards me and find a pair of Diesel, baggy fitting jeans. Okay, they weren’t in
any
pile. I work my way through all of the bags and boxes, also finding lace underwear in every design and colour you could imagine.

God only knows how long later, I’m sat in the middle of the floor, surrounded by a mass of clothes, shoes, bags and accessories. Every single item I tried on is here, except for the gown – all of the likes, the no’s, the maybes and a whole lot more that I didn’t try. I know there must be a mistake because even the slate Chloe dress is here, and Jesse would never have willingly bought that for me. I do love it, though.

Oh God! I flop back onto the floor and gaze up at the high ceilings of the penthouse. This is just way too much; the gown, the necklace, the ring, and now all of this. I am completely overwhelmed and feeling a bit suffocated. I don’t want all of this stuff. I just want him, without the history, without the other women and without Mikael poking about.

‘Hey, baby.’ Jesse’s wet, handsome face appears, floating above me. ‘I’ve been waiting for you. What’s up?’ He pouts.

I scoff and signal in the general direction of the designer jumble sale surrounding me. Can he not see it all? He looks around, completely unfazed by the piles and piles of women’s wear flanking me.

‘It arrived then?’ he says coolly. I make a dramatic display of throwing my arms back in exasperation, and he exhales to match my drama before lying down next to me. ‘Look at me.’ he orders softly. I turn my face to his and get an injection of his fresh, minty breath. ‘What’s the problem?’

‘This is too much.’ I complain. ‘I just want you.’

He smiles, his eyes twinkling with pleasure. ‘I’m glad, but I’ve never had anyone to share my money with, Ava. Please humour me.’

‘People will think I’m marrying you for your money.’ I say it as it is. I’ve already encountered the accusation.

‘I couldn’t give a fuck what people think. It’s all about us.’ He twists onto his side and pulls at my hip so I’m mirroring him. ‘Now, shut up.’

‘You won’t have any money left if you spend like you did yesterday.’ I grumble quietly. If Zoe works on commission, she could probably retire after Jesse’s spending splurge yesterday.

‘Ava, I said shut up.’

‘Make me.’ I counter on a half-smile.

And he does.

He crowds me completely and eats me alive among half of Harrods women’s department.

Chapter 26

I walk into the bedroom after a fresh shower and shake my head at Jesse, who’s sprawled on his back across the bed wearing only his tight, white boxer shorts and making a damn effective point of letting me know he’s not happy. I sit myself in front of the floor length mirror and start drying my hair. We’ve spent all day carting the obscene amount of clothes and accessories up the stairs. I now have my own side of the colossal walk-in-wardrobe and a very happy man, until I started to get myself ready for my night out with Kate. His contented mood soon changed, but with Tom and Victoria catching up with us too and a whole pile of shit to land on Kate, I’m looking forward to it and Jesse has got to learn to share me.

I finish my hair and turn the dryer off to hear heaving, huffing and puffing coming from the bed. He’s behaving like a schoolboy, so I ignore it and make my way into the bathroom to cream up and get my make-up on. I’m mid-mascara application when he walks in, all casual, and lies himself down on the chaise lounge with an almighty exhale of air, his lean body reclining coolly and his arms draping over his head, accentuating every fine muscle on his torso. I try to ignore him, but Jesse prancing around in a pair of white, tight Armani boxer shorts is very distracting. He’s doing it on purpose.

I make a hasty retreat from the bathroom to find my underwear and something to wear. That could take some time, especially with Jesse’s critical eyes watching over me, but I don’t even make it to my newly appointed underwear drawer before I’m seized and slung onto the bed, minus one towel. I should have known; he’s going to trample me and mark me and send me out with his scent all over me. He’s done this before.

I’m flipped over onto my hands and knees, and my legs spread as he grasps my waist, efficiently restraining me. ‘You won’t come.’ he growls as he plunges two fingers into me and starts scooping them around, stretching me and preparing me.

The sudden invasion has me burying my face in the bedding to stifle my cry. He’s going to leave me pre-orgasm again, I know it.

‘This is for my pleasure, not yours.’ he grates firmly. He starts circling my entrance, and I moan into the bed in desolation. This is ultimate torture. He knows exactly what he’s doing. I stiffen all over in response to his touch.