Total pages in book: 194
Estimated words: 183150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 916(@200wpm)___ 733(@250wpm)___ 611(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 183150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 916(@200wpm)___ 733(@250wpm)___ 611(@300wpm)
‘Look at me.’ he demands softy, and like the slave to him that I am, I look. His green eyes have softened as he sits back, relaxed in his chair. ‘Only with you,’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know.’ He has a quick chew of his lip. ‘You make me crazy.’
What? Well, that clears things up no end. Does he think I need some sort of father figure? I’m beyond confused. I sigh wearily into my wine glass. I make him crazy? Right back attcha, Ward!
‘Here’s your pasta.’ he says. I look up and see Luigi singing as he approaches. I’ve completely lost my appetite.
‘Lovely people,’ he places two considerable bowls in front of us. ‘Buon appetito!’
‘Thank you, Luigi.’ Jesse smiles politely. He flicks me a questioning look, but I ignore it and smile my thanks at Luigi. He’s just like Mario.
I stir the pasta with my fork, it smells heavenly, but my stomach is now a knot of confusion. I play with it for a few moments, then try a bit.
‘Good?’ Jesse asks.
I nod lamely, even though it is very good. We eat in silence for a while, occasionally tossing stares at each other. The food is wonderful, and I’m feeling guilty for not enjoying it as much as it deserves.
‘When did you buy the penthouse?’ I ask.
He pauses with his fork half way to his mouth. ‘March.’ he answers, taking his last mouthful of food and pushing his bowl away before picking up his water.
‘You never told me why you requested me personally to work on the extension of The Manor.’ I give up on my pasta, pushing it away.
Jesse looks at the half eaten dish and returns his eyes to mine. ‘I brought the penthouse and loved what you did with it. I can assure you, I didn’t expect you to come rocking up, with your perfect figure, olive skin and big brown eyes.’ He shakes his head, as if shaking off the memory. I feel somewhat better knowing he was as shocked to see me as I was to see him.
I scoff. ‘You weren’t exactly the Lord of the Manor I was expecting.’ I do my own little shudder when I recall the affect he had on me; the affect he still has on me. ‘How did you know where I was on that Monday lunchtime when I bumped into you at the bar?’
He shrugs. ‘Lucky guess,’
‘Of course,’ I scoff. Followed me, more like.
I look up and see a smile tickling the edge of his luscious lips. ‘I couldn’t think of anything else after you left The Manor.’
‘So you pursued me relentlessly.’ I retort quietly.
‘I had to have you.’
‘And now you have. Do you always take what you want?’
He watches me across the table, his face completely straight as he leans forward. ‘I can’t answer that, Ava, because I’ve never wanted anything enough to pursue it so relentlessly. Not like I wanted you.
I notice he uses past tense. ‘Do you still?’
He sits back in his chair and studies me, stroking his glass of water. ‘More than anything,’
A little gush of air escapes my mouth. I’m not sure if it’s relief or desire. I know nothing anymore. ‘I’m yours.’ I say resolutely. That’s it. I’ve just thrown my heart on the table for this man.
His tongue slowly sweeps across his bottom lip. ‘Ava, you’ve been mine since you turned up at The Manor.’
‘Have I?’
‘Yes. Will you spend the night with me?’
‘Are you asking or demanding?’
‘I’m asking, but if you give me the wrong answer, then I’m sure I can think of something to change your mind.’ He smiles slightly.
‘I’ll spend the night with you.’
He nods in approval. ‘Tomorrow night?’
‘Yes.’
‘Take the day off.’ he demands.
‘No.’
His eyes narrow. ‘What about Friday evening?’
‘I’ve arranged to go out with Kate on Friday night.’ I inform him, resisting the temptation to reach up and twiddle my hair. He can’t assume I’m there at his demand. I hope she’s free.
His narrowed eyes instantly darken. ‘Cancel.’
Now, this is something I do need to clear up, pronto – his neurotic unreasonableness. ‘I’m going out to have a few drinks. You can’t stop me from seeing my friends, Jesse.’
‘How many is a few drinks?’
I can feel my brow knitting. ‘I don’t know. That depends on how I feel.’ I look at him accusingly. I suspect I might be gagging by Friday if he keeps up with his crazy behaviour. He’s giving me brain ache as well as body ache.
He starts chewing his bottom lip again, and I can see the cogs of his mind going into overdrive. He’s trying to work out how he’s going to get around this. I haven’t done myself any favours by getting in such a state last Saturday. That was his fault. Should I tell him that?
‘I don’t want you out drinking without me.’ he says firmly.