‘Fuck! What sort of demands?’ She’s shocked. She should be. It’s shocking.
‘I don’t know. The man’s an arrogant arse. He asked me how loud I’d scream when he fucks me.’
She spits more champagne. ‘He what? Fuck, Ava, he’s coming over, he’s coming over!’ She shifts on the spot, her eyes still skipping with amusement.
Why is he here? I start planning my escape, but before my brain can even instruct my legs to move, I can feel him stood behind me; I can smell him.
‘Nice to see you again, Kate.’ he drawls. ‘Ava?’
I remain with my back to him, knowing all too well that if I turn to acknowledge him, I’ll be hauled into the hazardous place that is Jesse Ward’s realm – a place where I struggle to maintain any rational thinking. I drained my reserve tank of strength last night, and I’ve not had a chance to replenish it yet. This is not good news. He said I wouldn’t have to see him again. If I told him what he didn’t want to hear, then I would never have to see him again. I met the terms of his demand, so why is he not keeping to his end of the bargain?
Kate’s eyes are darting between us, waiting for one of us to say something. I certainly won’t be.
‘Jesse.’ She nods at him. ‘Excuse me. I need to powder my nose.’ She places her empty on the worktop and beats feet. I mentally curse her arse to Hell.
He circles around me so he’s stood before me. ‘You look stunning.’ he murmurs.
‘You said I wouldn’t have to see you again.’ I challenge him, ignoring his compliment.
‘I didn’t know you would be here.’
I look at him tiredly. ‘You sent me flowers.’
‘Oh, so I did.’ A smile tickles the edge of his lips.
I don’t have time for his games. He’s really met his match in me. ‘Please, excuse me.’ I go to side step him, but he moves with me, effectively blocking my path.
‘I was hoping for a tour.’
‘I’ll get Victoria. She’ll be happy to show you around.’
‘I would prefer you.’
‘You don’t get a fuck with a tour.’ I snap.
He frowns. ‘Will you watch your mouth?’
‘Sorry,’ I mutter indignantly. ‘And put my seat back when you drive my car.’
He grin’s a real boyish grin, and I’m even more furious with myself when my heart speeds up. I mustn’t let him see the affect he has on me.
‘And leave my music alone!’
‘I’m sorry.’ His eyes flicker with mischievousness. It’s so bloody sexy. ‘Are you okay? You look a little shaky.’ He reaches out, softly running his finger down my bare arm. ‘Is something affecting you?’
I jerk away. ‘Not at all,’ I need to get off this line of conversation. ‘Did you want a tour?’
‘I would love a tour.’ He looks pleased with himself.
On a huff, I lead him out of the kitchen and into the massive living space. ‘Lounge,’ I wave my hand about in the general space around us. ‘You’ve seen the kitchen,’ I say over my shoulder as I walk through the open space and onto the terrace. ‘View,’ I maintain my tired tone, hearing him laugh lightly behind me.
I lead him back through the lounge to the workout room, not saying a word as we trek through the penthouse. Jesse shakes hands, greeting various people on our travels, but I don’t pause to allow him time to stop and chat. I march on in a bid to get this over with as soon as possible. Damn this place for being so big.
‘Gym,’ I state, walking in and abruptly leaving again when he enters. I head for the stairs, hearing him laugh behind me. I take the back-lit, onyx staircase, proceeding to open and shut doors, one at a time, while declaring what lies beyond. We reach the pièce de résistance, the master suite, and I wave my hand round at the dressing room and en-suite bathroom. The place really does deserve more passion and time than I’m devoting.
‘You’re an expert tour guide, Ava.’ he teases, regarding one of my favourite pieces of art. ‘Care to enlighten me on the artist?’
‘Guiseppe Cavalli,’ I toss the name at him, folding my arms over my chest.
‘It’s good. Is there any particular reason why you chose this artist?’ He’s blatantly trying to temp me into conversation.
I stare at his broad, suit covered back, his hands resting lightly in his trouser pockets, his lean legs slightly spread. My eyes are very pleased, but my brain is in a jumbled mess. I sigh and decide, wisely or not, to indulge him. Guiseppe Cavalli most definitely deserves my time and enthusiasm. I drop my arms and walk over to join him in front of the piece.