His eyes turn black. ‘Don’t say things like that, Ava.’
‘It was a joke.’ I laugh.
I’m flipped over and pinned under his body. ‘Do you see me laughing? Don’t say things that will make me crazy mad.’
‘I’m sorry.’ I blurt quickly. I need to cop on to his zero tolerance approach to lighthearted jokes that suggest me with another man.
He shakes his head and lifts himself from my body, strolling off to the wardrobe. I sit up and take the loss of distraction as an opportunity to concentrate on finishing my make-up. I’ve really upset him.
An unexpected and very unwelcome image of Jesse with another woman jumps into my head. I do my own little head shake. It’s like my sub-conscience is giving me a taste of my own medicine. I screw my face up in disgust and throw my eyeliner into my make-up bag. It worked. I feel my flesh prickling with possessiveness.
After smothering myself in coco butter, I slip my lace underwear on and my red shift dress.
‘I like your dress.’
I swing around and my eyes are assaulted by a devastatingly handsome, navy suited beast. I sigh in appreciation. He is just too bloody perfect and he’s not shaved. I swoon on the spot. He looks like he’s got over his little strop.
‘I like your suit.’ I counter.
He grins and finishes straightening his grey tie before pulling the collar of his white shirt down. If I was any other woman and I found out about The Manor and the God who owned it, I would join too.
I’m being distracted again. I throw my bag on the bed, retrieve my phone, sweep some gloss across my lips and grab my shoes, all under his watchful eye. I have another futile rummage through my bag for my pills, but I know I’m searching in vain.
‘Lost something?’ He splashes some aftershave on.
Oh, that smell. ‘My pills.’ I grumble with my head practically in my oversized, leather shoulder bag. I run my fingers around the stitching of the lining to check for rips.
‘Again?’
I look up at him and smile apologetically. I feel stupid, and I’m not relishing the thought of visiting Doctor Monroe again. I need to sort that today before I miss anymore.
‘I’ll see you later.’ He lands me with a chaste kiss on my cheek and leaves me to carry on searching for rips in the lining of my bag. What a nightmare. Maybe I should just get the jab and save myself all of this embarrassment.
I freeze on the spot, my brow furrowing, my mind jumping the gun…I think.
No, he wouldn’t. Why ever would he?
Chapter 9
As I walk into the foyer, I find Clive rubbing the cuff of his jacket on the marble desk, buffing it to a shine.
‘Morning, Clive.’
‘Good morning, Ava.’ he says happily.
I return his cheeriness with an over-the-top smile. ‘Clive, I don’t suppose you could show me the CCTV footage from Sunday, could you?’
‘No!’ he blurts quickly, suddenly becoming busy and frantically typing on his keyboard.
I eye him suspiciously, but he won’t look at me. I don’t believe this. Jesse has beaten me to it. He knew I would ask Clive. ‘Has Jesse spoken to you?’
‘No.’ He shakes his head and keeps his eyes down.
‘Of course.’ I sigh, turning and walking out of the foyer. The Lord is cute, and I’m suspicious.
‘Oh, Ava!’ I hear Clive coming after me. ‘Maintenance rang. The door is on order, but it’s coming from Italy so it may be a while.’ He walks besides me.
‘You should call Jesse and let him know.’ I carry on walking, and he carries on flanking me.
‘I did, Ava. Mr Ward advised me that I should consult with you on anything regarding the penthouse.’
I skid to a halt. He said what? ‘I’m sorry.’ I sound confused.
Clive looks nervous. ‘Mr Ward, he….urh….he said you live here now and anything concerning the penthouse should be run past you.’
‘Oh, he did, did he?’ I grind. I shouldn’t sound so menacing. It’s not Clive’s fault. ‘Clive, do me a favour. Ring Mr Ward and tell him I don’t live here.’
Clive looks like I’ve just told him that he has two heads. I’m fuming. He moves me in under the persuasion of a sense fuck followed by a reminder fuck, and then expects me to become Molly mop? No amount of sense or reminder fucking will work in his favour this time.
‘Of course, Ava. I’ll…urhhhh…do it now.’
‘Good.’ I snap, and carry on outside the building. I stand and rummage through my bag for my sunglasses and car keys, completely riled. How dare he? I huff and puff to myself until I find my glasses, and as I slip them on, Massive Attack’s Angel creeps into my ears.
‘Oh no!’ I screech to myself. I’m even madder now. He knows how I feel about that track. I grab my phone and connect the call. ‘Stop messing about with my phone!’
‘No! Reminds me of you.’ he yells. ‘What do you mean, you don’t fucking live there?’
‘I’m not your fucking maid!’ I shout back.
‘Watch your fucking mouth!’
‘Fuck off!’ I yell. Oh, my language is blue!
‘MOUTH!’
I stand outside Lusso raging mad. If he thinks I’m going to be playing the dutiful domestic lady, he’s another thing coming. The cheek! I look up and spot John leaning against his Range Rover. His signature wrap around glasses are on, but I can see his arched brow above it. He’s enjoying this.
‘What’s John doing here?’ I snap.
‘Have you calmed down yet?’
‘Answer me!’ I yell.
‘Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?’
‘You! Are you listening? Why is John here?’
‘He’s going to take you to work.’
‘I don’t need a chauffeur, Jesse.’ I’ve calmed my voice slightly. How undignified of me, shouting and swearing like a drunken football hooligan, and in front of the newest, most prestigious residential complex in London. I look up and see John grinning. It’s new to me. I‘ve never seen him display any humour.
‘He was in the area. I thought it would be easier than you trying to park up.’ Jesse has calmed his tone too.
‘Well, at least tell me what’s happening if it involves me.’ I spit down the phone and hang up.
Controlling pig!
I make my way over to John and my phone starts singing again en-route. I’ll be changing that ring tone. I flash my screen at John as I pass him, and he grins again. ‘Yes, dear?’ I quip, rather bravely. I’m digging myself a hole here – I do realise that, but he’s out of touching distance so there is no risk of any sort of Jesse style fucking to put me in my place.
‘Don’t be sarcastic, Ava. It doesn’t suit you.’
I climb into the Range Rover and put my seatbelt on. ‘You’ll be pleased to know I’m on my way to work with John.’ I glace over at John, and he nods. ‘Would you like confirmation?’ I ask. ‘John, make yourself known.’ I thrust the phone under John’s nose.
‘S’all good, Jesse.’ he rumbles. He actually smiles, and I notice a gold tooth. He’s really enjoying this.
I put the phone back to my ear. ‘Happy?’
‘Very!’ he snaps. ‘Ever heard of a retribution fuck?’
The very words send shivers down my spine. I glance at John. He is still grinning. ‘No, are you going to demonstrate?’ I ask quietly.
‘If you’re lucky, I’ll see you at home.’ He hangs up.
I put my phone in my bag, feeling coils of anticipation springing into my groin. He’s taken me on a ten mile run, served me my favourite coffee, fucked me into oblivion and made filthy promises on the phone, and I haven’t even got to work yet. On top of that, though, he’s distracting me from a whole heap of troubling thoughts. He’s holding back on me again, and I can’t believe he has advised the concierge that I am now the lady of the house. I need to avoid all sense fucking in future, and I need to think about how I’m going to approach this little issue. It’s way too soon to move in with him.
I look at the mean beast of a man sat next to me. ‘Were you really in the area?’
John stops with his signature hum. ‘What do you think?’
That’s what I thought. ‘How old is Jesse?’ I ask casually. Why I’ve picked a casual tone is beyond me. It’s ridiculous that I don’t know how old he is.
‘Thirty two.’ John replies, completely dead pan.
Thirty two? That’s how old Jesse said he was last night. I look at John, who has started humming again. I don’t believe it! Jesse’s given him the heads up. ‘He’s not thirty two, is he?’
John smiles again, flashing his gold tooth. ‘He said you would ask.’
I shake my head. I’m at a total loss on that subject, so I decide, as John seems like he’s in a talkative mood, to take another angle. ‘Is he always so challenging?’
‘Only with you, girl. He’s actually quite laidback.’
Laidback? What a laugh! I remember Sam saying that too, and I also remember John mentioning that I had brought out some nasty qualities in him. I laugh to myself. Jesse has brought out some pretty nasty qualities in me too. I’m swearing like a sailor. ‘I obviously bring out the worst in him.’ I grumble.