Beneath This Man - Malpas Jodi Ellen - Страница 92

‘No. I’ve told you this.’

‘I can tell. You’re shit at it.’

His anxious, green eyes flip to mine. ‘I love you.’ he says softly, like that explains everything. ‘Please, open the door.’

‘Do you agree?’ I ask. I’ve never had this power over him. I know how much he hates not being able to get to me and this is taking advantage of his weakness, but it’s the only weakness I know, so if I have to use it, then I will, especially for something of this magnitude.

His teeth are going ten to the dozen on his bottom lip as he mulls over my demand. He sighs. ‘I agree. Open the door.’ He grasps the handle, but then I think of something else – something that will have cause for another countdown later. I may as well kill two birds with one stone.

‘I’m going out with Kate later.’ I say daringly.

His eyes bulge, as I knew they would. ‘What?’

‘Last night, I told you that I was going out with Kate.’ I remind him.

‘And? Open the door.’

‘You can’t stop me from seeing my friend. If I’m going to marry you, it’s not so you can control my every move. I’m going out with Kate later and you’re going to let me…without a fuss.’ My voice is calm and assertive when inside I’m bracing myself for a sense fucking to rival all those that have come before.

‘You’re pushing your luck, lady.’ His jaw clenches, and I exhale a weary breath.

I’m pushing my luck because I want to go out with my friend? I turn my back on him and take myself to the weights bench, sitting down and making myself comfortable. I’m not opening that door until he relents, so I might be here a while.

‘Ava, what are you doing? Open the fucking door.’ I watch as he shakes the door frantically. God, I love him, but he’s got to ease up on the unreasonable demands and protectiveness.

‘I’m not opening that door until you start being more reasonable. If you want to marry me, then you need to loosen up.’

He looks at me like I’m stupid. ‘It’s not unreasonable to worry about you.’

‘You don’t worry, Jesse, you torture yourself.’

‘Open the door.’ He jiggles the handle again.

‘I’m going out with Kate later.’

‘Fine, but you’re not drinking. Open the fucking door!’

Oh yes, I should be challenging him on that too, but I think I have probably given him enough heart attacks for one morning. He looks besides himself which is ridiculous – I’m right here. I stand up and walk to the door, flipping the lock and standing back before I put him in an early grave. He barrels in and yanks me to his chest, taking us to the floor on one of the cushioned mats.

He completely smothers me with his body and breathes heavily into my hair. ‘Please don’t do that to me again.’ he pleads, and I’m suddenly riddled with guilt. His anxiety on this matter is one of his most unreasonable parts. ‘Promise me.’

‘It’s the only way I can get you to listen to me.’ I try and placate him as I stroke his back, feeling his heart hammering against my chest.

‘I’ll listen. Just don’t put anything between us again.’

‘You can’t be with me all of the time.’

‘I know, but it will be on my terms when I can’t be.’

I laugh and throw my arms over my head. ‘What about me?’

He pulls his head back and scowls at me. ‘I’ll listen.’ he mutters grumpily. ‘You’re being very challenging, wife to be.’ He buries his head back into my neck on a sulk.

Oh, he is so thick skinned. I don’t bother arguing with him on that, though. I had expected to be thrust up against the wall and fucked to within an inch of my life after my delinquencies, so the fact he is just holding me is a bit of a surprise. Maybe I’ve found my bargaining tool.

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.