by T L Swan
Fuckers.
Twenty minutes later I knock on Kate’s door.
No answer.
I knock harder.
No answer.
I call her cell phone, it rings out.
“Fuck’s sake,” I mutter. I call her again.
“Hello,” she says sleepily.
“Open the door.”
“What?”
“I’m at your front door, can you walk down the stairs?”
“I told you, I’m fine.”
“You are not fine, Kate. Open the fucking door.”
“Ugh.” She hangs up and moments later the door opens and she comes into view. “What are you doing here?”
Relieved, I take her into my arms. “I came to check on you.”
“I’m fine.” She turns to walk up the stairs and I follow her like a puppy. She climbs into her bed and pulls the blankets over herself.
I sit on the edge of the bed, unsure what to say.
“I just need to sleep.”
“Well.” I look around her room. “I’m not leaving you here alone.”
“Be careful, Elliot.” She smiles with her eyes closed. “You’re sounding very boyfriend-like.”
That’s ridiculous. I frown and stand; she stays still and I sit back down.
Fuck.
What do I do now?
For ten minutes I sit on the side of the bed as she sleeps.
Screw this.
“Kate.” I shake her. “What do you need? I’m packing you a bag.”
“Why?”
“I’m taking you home.”
“I’m fine.”
“You are not fucking fine, Kathryn. Now shut up and tell me what you need,” I snap.
She pulls the blankets over her head. “Go. Away.”
“Fine, I’ll pack your bag then, myself.”
I go into her bathroom and grab her toiletry bag, I put her toothbrush and toothpaste inside. I grab her sanitary pads and tampons, and a packet of tablets. I look around her bathroom to see what else I need. There are two books on the side table. Is she reading this? I pick the top one up and see the flower that I picked her yesterday pressed between it and the other book.
She kept it.
I pick it up and stare at it in my hand. So many telling emotions rolled up into a flattened pink flower.
“What are you doing in there?” she calls.
“Cringing at the hair in your razor.”
The sound of her laugh makes me smile.
I carefully place her flower back where it was and make my way out. She lies on her back, looking up at me. “I’m packing you a bag and I’m taking you home.”
“This is my home.”
Is it?
You feel more at home at my home . . . or maybe it’s me that feels at home when you’re there. I swallow the lump in my throat, unable to answer her.
I go to her dresser and open the top drawer. “Should I be packing all of these granny knickers?”
She bursts out laughing. “Look at you . . . being all English and shit.”
I smile.
“I’ll convert you yet, gov’nor,” she says in a strong cockney accent.
I chuckle. “Are you high?”
She makes a pinch with her fingers. “Little bit.”
I smile as I pull her up by the hand. “Come on, let’s go home.”
Chapter 19
KATE
I wake to the sound of a bird cry in the distance, and judging by the shadows on the wall, it’s just dusk. From the corner of my eye I glance over to see Elliot sitting at a small table near the window, his laptop open, fully engrossed in work. He types at a furious speed and then hits send.
I can tell by the way he’s angrily hitting the keys that he’s emailing someone who has annoyed him and he’s telling them just how much.
I smile; some things never change. I sit up on my elbows. “Hi.”
He glances up and his face instantly softens. “Hello.”
I tap the bed, he walks over and sits beside me. “How are you feeling?”
“Good.”
He pushes the hair back from my forehead. “You have tomorrow off too, I’ve already called it in.”
“I don’t—”
“It’s not up for negotiation,” he interrupts me.
He stares at me and it’s obvious he has something on his mind. “I’ve made you an appointment with a decent doctor.”
I frown. “By decent, you mean expensive?”
He rolls his eyes.
“Why?”
“Because this isn’t normal.”
“It is for me.”
He exhales and stands. “I’m not having this discussion, Kathryn. I’ve already made the appointment, you’ll see the specialist tomorrow at two. I’m coming.”
“You are not coming,” I scoff as I flick the blankets back, not in the mood for this shit.
He tilts his chin to the sky. “Why not?”
“Because.” I pause as I think of the right thing to say. “We’re not even . . .”
“Not what?”
“Officially going out together.” I walk into the bathroom.
“What?” He marches in behind me.
I pick up a sanitary pad.
“If we’re not together, what are you doing here?” he barks.
“You brought me here, when I was half dying.”
“To look after you.”
Guilt fills me—he’s right, I’m being a bitch. I force a lopsided smile. “And I appreciate it, thank you.”
“And we are together. Just because nobody knows about us doesn’t make our relationship any less important.” He crosses his arms angrily. “I have every right to know what’s going on with your body.”
I roll my eyes. “Look, thank you for your concern, but I just need to take care of this stuff myself . . . okay?”
He stares at me flatly.
I hold up my pad. “Do you mind?”
He keeps staring at me.
“Elliot, give me a minute.”
He storms back into the bedroom.
I sort myself out and wash my hands as I stare at my reflection in the mirror.
What’s going on here?
He told me he doesn’t do relationships and yet here he is, acting like the possessive boyfriend.
Perhaps he’s changed his mind and he does want more? Not once this weekend did he act like this is a casual, sex-only thing.
Excitement fills me. Don’t get carried away, I remind myself.
The only problem is that it’s been so long since I had a boyfriend I think I’ve forgotten what to do . . . or what to let him do.
I know if I want this to work between us, I have to try harder to let him in.
I walk back out to see him sitting at his little table, his laptop open in front of him. He doesn’t look up and it’s clear that he’s annoyed.
“Thank you for making the appointment,” I say softly. “I’ll go.”
His eyes rise to meet mine.
“This is new to me, having someone . . .” I cut myself off, unsure what to say next.
He nods but stays silent.
“I just don’t want you hearing about all of my faults.”
His face softens, and he presses his lips together as if stopping himself from speaking.
I twist my fingers in front of me nervously. “I don’t want to wreck this, you know?”
He stands and comes to me, his hand cups my face and he stares down at me. “And there she is,” he whispers.
My eyes search his.
“The vulnerable Kate that I adore.”
I inhale deeply as I feel emotion overwhelm me. “I wouldn’t be nice to me this week if I were you, not unless you want me to cry like a baby. I’m completely unstable.”
“Alright.” A trace of a smile crosses his face. “Would you like to suck my dick before or after you eat your dinner, you filthy wench?”
I giggle, grateful to him for making light of the s
ituation. “Careful, my mood could go either way, it’s a very fine line. Who knows what’s going to come out of my mouth?”
He bends and kisses me, his tongue tenderly swiping against mine. He smiles against me as if having a thought. “It’s what’s going into it that I care about.”
I ride the escalator down to the ladies’ department in Harrods. After my doctor’s appointment this afternoon I’ve decided to have a little retail therapy before I go home.
My phone rings, the name Elliot lights up the screen, and I smile broadly. “Hello.”
“How did my girl go at the doctor’s?” Thankfully he didn’t come.
“Good.”
“What did he say?”
“Not a lot that I didn’t know.” I begin to walk through the racks of women’s clothes as I talk.
“Such as?”
“You really want all the gory details, Mr. Miles?”
“No, I’m asking as a dare, what do you fucking think?”
I smile, I love that he cares. “Basically, I have to go in for surgery at some point soon for an endometriosis clean-up, but other than that I’m doing everything right.”
“Well . . . what kind of surgery, is it dangerous?”
“No, I’ve had it a few times before. Keyhole.”
“Oh, okay.” I can hear the relief in his voice. “What about the pain?”
“It’s normal. I’m fine, El, you don’t need to worry.”
“Well . . . I do.”
I smile and look up. Over in the lingerie department I see a familiar figure, and pause on the spot. Navy suit, ramrod-straight back, phone to his ear. He picks up a two-piece black lace bra and G-string set and eyes it, then he puts it back and riffles through the sizes and then throws one over his arm. “Where are you?” I ask.
“Running errands.”
I duck behind a column and smile as I watch him. Completely focused on his task, he moves on to white, silk nightdresses and flicks through the rack.
“What kind of errands?”
“I’m at the post office,” he lies.
“Don’t you have a personal secretary for that?”
“This parcel is of a personal nature,” he replies casually as he walks through the rows of expensive lingerie.
“Did you order me a big dildo?”
His face breaks into a breathtaking smile and I feel it all the way to my toes. “Most definitely not.”
“Why not?” I tease.
He picks up a pretty pink camisole. “If you think I’m sharing your orgasms with a battery-operated device, you’re deluded, Kathryn.”
“Maybe I need more,” I tease.
He stops mid-step, and a slow, sexy smile crosses his face; he likes this game. “We haven’t even begun your training yet, angel,” he whispers darkly.
“Training?”
“We can start tonight, if you like?” He throws a camisole over his arm.
I bite my lip to stifle my smile; I like this game too. “Why haven’t we begun yet?”
“I’ve been on my best behavior so far; my depraved tastes aren’t for everyone and I need your trust before we start. I didn’t want to scare you off before we get there.”
I frown, what’s he talking about? I trawl my brain for a logical answer.
Anal . . . oh fuck.
“If I haven’t run away yet, El . . .” I whisper as I act brave. I’ve never done anything anal before and he knows it. “The more I get to know you, the more I want you.”
His face softens and butterflies flutter in my stomach.
Watching his face light up as he speaks to me really is something, as if my heart isn’t already freefalling out of my chest.
“Well, Miss Landon.” He stops walking. “The feeling is completely mutual.” His voice is soft, cajoling. So different to the voice that used to bellow at me.
I smile as I watch him. “I should let you go.”
“Okay, sweetheart, I’ll pick you up about seven?”
“Can’t wait. See you then.”
He holds his phone to his ear and pauses as if waiting to hear something, and I do the same as I watch him.
There are unspoken words between us.
And I know we’re not there yet, but this . . . whatever this is, feels a lot like—or at least the beginning of—love.
“Bye El,” I whisper.
“Goodbye.” I watch as he hangs up and stuffs his phone into his expensive suit pocket. He continues to shop and, for a long time, I stand and watch him.
Elliot Miles, walking through a lingerie section, shopping . . . for me.
I smile—or maybe it’s for him.
Either way, it’s fucking perfect.
Just on seven I watch the headlights of the black Bentley come around the corner. He’s here.
I grab my bag and bounce down the stairs. Rebecca and Daniel aren’t home; it seems like I’ve hardly seen them in the last few weeks. I’ve spent nearly every night with Elliot since we started seeing each other and I know I really should be playing hard to get or something, but what’s the point? I want to see him and I’m sick of games.
And he seems pretty set on seeing me too.
I make my way out of the front door and Elliot climbs out of the back of the car, looks up and sees me, and breaks into a breathtaking smile.
Oh . . . that smile.
I feel myself swoon as I cross the road toward him. “Hello,” he says as he leans down and kisses me softly.
“Hi.” I beam.
He stares down at me with a goofy smile and I smile right back up at him; it’s like a long-lost hello after not seeing each other for forever, but the truth is we saw each other only ten hours ago.
Okay . . . we’re a little pathetic . . . not that I’m complaining.
He stands back so I can get into the car and I dive in. “Hello Andrew.” I smile as I scooch across the seat.
“Hello Kate.” He gives me a kind smile in the rearview mirror.
Elliot slides in after me and takes my hand in his on his lap, and I lean over and kiss his cheek as the car pulls out into the traffic.
Okay . . . I need to chill. Seeing him buying that lingerie today has set off some kind of hopeless love bug and I’m completely forgetting how to be hard to get.
“How was your day?” he asks.
“Good, now. How was yours?”
He gives me a smile. “I bought you a present today.”
“You did?” I act surprised. “What is it?”
“I’ll show you when we get home.”
Home.
My stomach flutters. “Is it what I think it is?” I tease.
“What’s that?”
“You know.” I widen my eyes, as Andrew can hear.
He frowns in a question.
I put my mouth to his ear. “The big dildo.”
“Andrew, pull the car over, please. Kathryn’s getting out, she can walk home from here,” he says as he pretends to be angry.
“Don’t, Andrew.” I giggle.
Andrew’s amused eyes flick up to me in the mirror and he keeps driving.
Did he hear what I said?
Half an hour later, we pull into the enchanted driveway. It’s pitch-black as we motor up the windy road. “Did I tell you I love your house?” I ask.
He gives me a sexy wink as he tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. “Once or twice.”
We stare at each other as the air crackles between us.
The car pulling up in front of the house interrupts our moment, and Andrew climbs out and opens my door. “Have a good night, Kathryn,” he says.
“Thank you, you too.”
Elliot climbs out and goes to the trunk. He takes out about ten shopping bags and I can hardly contain my excitement. “Oh . . . you have been busy,” I say as I act cool.
“Not as busy as you’re going to be wearing them,” he mutters as he walks up the steps. “Thank you, Andrew, see you in the morning.”
“Goodnight Mr. Miles.” He gets bac
k into the car and starts the engine.
Elliot opens the door and we walk in and turn the lights on. I look up into the hall and smile. “Oh Elliot, this place is so beautiful that it takes my breath away.”
“I know,” he agrees. “Me too. I’ve decided I’m not knocking the house down, I’m going to renovate. The house has too much character to get rid of it completely.”
“I agree.” I smile.
He passes me the shopping bags. “Now, I’ve been looking forward to this all day. I’m going to cook us dinner . . . and you”—he kisses me softly—“are going to give me a fashion parade.”
I bite my bottom lip as I peer into the bags: expensive tissue paper, lace, and silk is all I see.
“Ummmm.” I frown.
He raises his eyebrow. “Um what?”
“You remember that it’s that time of the month for me . . . right?”
He looks at me flatly. “What does that mean?”
“Well.” I shrug. Do I have to say it out loud? “I can’t have sex tonight.”
“And . . . your point is?”
I stare at him.
“If I only wanted you for sex, Kathryn, I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t have got past the first date.”
My mouth falls open. “What?”
“I mean . . .” He gives a subtle shake of his head as he corrects himself. “That came out wrong.”
I give him a smile as I cup him through his trousers. I rub my thumb back and forth over his tip, and feel it enlarge beneath my touch. “What am I here for?”
“So that I can fuck your hot little ass.”
I burst out laughing and he turns me toward the stairs and slaps me hard on the behind. “Go. Before you get yourself into trouble.”
With the bags in my hands, I take the stairs two at a time in excitement.
Hell on a cracker, this night is turning out amazing.
He’s amazing, I knew it all along.
There’s hope for us yet.
Elliot takes a shower and walks into the bedroom in only a towel; he drops it before me and I feel myself flutter. No matter whatever goes on between us, his sexuality or my body’s reaction to it is never in question.
He turns off the light and crawls in behind me, takes me into his arms and kisses my cheek.
I smile softly at his touch.
He puts his big, warm hand over my tender stomach and we meld into each other’s bodies. The air between us is alive with intimacy and comfort. We both lie in silence and I know he’s not going to sleep; I can almost hear his brain ticking away in the darkness.