by JC Harroway
I feel as if we’ve been apart for weeks, not hours.
‘I know you don’t want to see me, and that’s fine,’ he says. ‘I just don’t want the sun to set on another day where I’ve let you down.’
I’m too tired to fight it, so this time, I invite him in. Fighting tears, I toss my coat and bag aside and head for the kitchen at the back of the house on my wobbly legs. My wine fridge is well-stocked. I retrieve an ice-cold bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and pour two generous glasses, not bothering to ask him what he wants. I carry our glasses out through the conservatory to the garden like a robot. The crackle of electricity buzzing over my skin tells me he’s following.
I leave his glass on the table and sit on a garden chair. I take a hefty swallow, looking out at the pretty garden I created to remind me of the one Mum had nurtured and tended at Comberton.
‘I couldn’t face you, to be honest,’ I say. My stomach tumbles until nausea forces me to abandon my wine. ‘I knew we’d have to see each other again. Despite what you said, I care about Bold, and have every intention of getting things back to professional—I just hoped I’d have a few days to adjust.’
Hudson shifts in my peripheral vision.
‘The things I said were unforgivable.’ His voice is rough with emotion. ‘I didn’t mean them.’
I look up and his eyes latch to mine in the dusk.
‘It’s no excuse but I was reeling from your declaration.’ He steps closer, his face taut with pain. ‘No one’s ever said it before.’
I frown, my heart in my throat. ‘Said what?’
There’s so much anguish in his eyes I want to go to him more than I can stand. I dig my nails into the arms of the chair.
He looks to the garden where the roses bloom before tall sentry-like delphiniums. ‘That they love me. Not that I remember, anyway.’
My hand flies to my mouth. Tears sting the backs of my eyes. I can’t believe that’s true, but it must be. He was two when his mother gave him up. Maybe Wendy hadn’t said it. And he’s never allowed anyone close enough to get attached.
My pulse thunders in my head. Would I have said those momentous words if I’d known? Oh, I’d still have felt it, but I might have chosen my moment more carefully rather than just blurting it out and expecting him to know what to do with my overwhelming confession.
‘I’m sorry.’ I swallow back the burn in my throat and fight the urge to go to him. ‘I wouldn’t have said it if I’d known.’
He steps towards me then, his face twisted with agony as he drops to his knee in front of me. ‘It’s a wonderful thing to hear. Don’t regret it.’ His voice cracks. ‘Tell me, how do I change?’
My heart breaks open, disintegrating into a million pieces. I don’t want him to change. I don’t want him to hurt. I just want him to want me in return.
‘Don’t.’ I reach out, cup his cheek and feel the day’s worth of stubble under my fingertips. ‘You don’t need to change.’
He places his hand over mine and holds it to his face. ‘But I want things. You’ve made me want things I have no idea how to want. I can’t stop. I can’t leave you.’
I hold my breath, my head swimming. ‘What things?’ It’s all too much, but this has been a desperate whirlwind from the start.
‘You.’
A tear falls then. It’s exactly what I want to hear. Only, how can I trust it? I know he means it—he’s not a liar. But, where back in my office two days ago it all seemed so easy, us being together now seems insurmountable.
Still, my own feelings compel me to help him. ‘It’s like going on a roller coaster—you embrace the fear and do it anyway. You know the high is coming and, if you survive, it will be worth every horrific second because you’ve let love in.’
He presses a kiss to the centre of my palm. ‘Sounds terrifying. Tell me more.’
I shrug, my resolve wobbling. I love him so much that I fear my strength, my conviction, won’t be enough. Not for the two of us.
‘You’ve opened your heart before. When you let Sterling and me into your world. When you reached out to Wendy and Bill. When you founded Blackhearts. Every time you moved on to a new home, a new school, as a boy, you found the strength. You didn’t give up, you survived, you flourished.’
He grips both of my hands, his earnest expression slaying me. ‘Is it too late? Because I want more with you like I’ve never wanted anything else in my life—not Bold or my billions or even my next breath.’
I shake my head, my vision blurring. ‘No. It’s not too late.’ My pulse beats in the tips of my fingers. Can he feel it?
‘Sterling asked me a question,’ he whispers, his thumbs rubbing back and forth over my wrists. ‘He said if I only had one more day to live, would I want to wake up alone, or with you.’ He looks up and my heart stops altogether. ‘I’d choose you. Only, I want to wake up with you every day from now on.’
I cup his cheeks and lean forward, pressing my mouth to his. I collapse into his hard chest. His arms band around me and almost squeeze the air from my lungs.
I pull back, happy tears spilling free. ‘You don’t have to promise me anything. I want us to be real. I need to live in the moment, not jump several steps ahead, as I’ve done in the past. I still want a family, but I know I don’t need it to feel whole.’
He nods and stands, tugging me to my feet. He squeezes both of my hands, his stare so full of everything I want to see that I sway on my feet.
‘I promise you I want to be with you, every day.’ He cups my face in his warm hands. ‘I want to go sightseeing with you, and have picnics in the park, and dance with you while your underwear is in my pocket.’
I laugh. Cry. Kiss him.
‘I’ll stay in London,’ he says.
‘I’ll move to Tokyo,’ I blurt, laughing as he pulls me in for another kiss.
I tug him inside and lead him down the hall. When we reach the bottom of the stairs, he scoops me up in his arms and carries me up to the bedroom.
We strip and touch and kiss and sigh. Hudson lays me down on the bed and traces his mouth over every inch of my body, as if re-learning every contour, every sensitive place. Desperate for him, I drag his mouth to mine, but he pulls back.
‘I do love you, Dove.’ His eyes burn.
I shake my head, too choked to speak. I don’t want him to say it until he means it absolutely.
He presses his fingers to my lips, then drops soft kisses all over my face as he talks. ‘I’ve always been half in love with you all these years. I just didn’t want to label it. And this week... How could I not fall completely? You’re the better part of me. You make me whole. You make me want things, all of the things.’
Tears seep into my hair at my temples and he kisses those too. ‘I’ve got a long way to go, a lot of relationship stuff to learn—but don’t for one minute think I don’t love you as much as you said you love me.’ He presses my fingertips to his mouth, kissing each one.
I shudder, sigh, surrender to the feelings that need no labels. They’re just there.
‘Just remember who said it first.’ I laugh and drag his mouth back down to my kiss.
And then he loves me with his body.
EPILOGUE
Five years later
Hudson
‘RUB HARDER...’ SHE SAYS. ‘Oh, yes! That’s the spot.’
‘You are still as demanding as ever, my love,’ I say, pressing my thumbs into her instep as part of my famous foot massage she can’t live without. ‘Why wear the heels if they torture your feet so badly?’
She turns on the hot tap and tops up the bath water. ‘They make me feel sexy. After two babies, I need all the help I can get in that department.’ She offers me her other foot over the edge of the bath and relaxes back into the bubbles. ‘Did you wrap everything?’
I nod, extending the massage to the back of her calf, working the ti
ghtness from the muscles. ‘Yes, but I had to wait for them to go to sleep first. And Brie dropped round the birthday cake.’
‘Can everyone make it? The twins adore all of their cousins and I promised they’d come.’
‘It’s all under control,’ I reply, sliding my hand behind her knee. ‘Even Bill will be there. Relax.’
She smiles an indulgent smile because she knows how far I’ve come with her love to guide me. Bill has become the father I never had and grandfather to our twins. ‘Relax...? I’m trying.’
My beautiful wife does look a little tired. We don’t travel like we used to since we moved our offices from Tokyo and London to our home office in the Cambridgeshire countryside. And because of the twins we take it in turns when we do need to go overseas.
This trip was Monroe’s turn.
‘I missed you,’ I say, watching her breasts break the surface and marvelling at how I became such a lucky bastard.
She moans and opens her eyes, glancing at the black square of the window, which is being pelted by winter rain.
‘I missed you too. Time to show you just how much, I think...’ She rises from the water like a sea nymph, rivulets of suds gliding down her gorgeous body. She steps out of the bath and hands me a fluffy white towel.
‘Can you dry my back, please, darling?’ Her voice is a seductive purr I know so well.
Communication, compromise and our ongoing seduction game is how we keep our marriage strong.
I glide the towel over her skin, kissing every place I dry. ‘Are you trying to seduce me, Mrs Black?’
‘Yes.’ She turns to face me, and I follow the same routine with the towel and the kissing across her front until I’m hard against my fly and she’s panting, her nipples erect.
‘There’s a storm coming,’ she says. ‘Remember how we rode out Typhoon Kano?’ She grabs my hand and we head for the bedroom.
‘How could I forget?’ I strip so I too am naked. Our hands roam each other’s bodies, teasing and caressing.
‘Want to hunker down again, Black? Same rules apply...’ Her hazel eyes are alight with love. How was I ever stupid enough to deny myself such a gift?
‘Sounds like a plan, but no poker this time.’ I take her nipple in my mouth and she gasps, dragging me onto the bed. We’re tangled together under the covers, kissing and stroking and laughing, because our love makes us both happy.
I entwine my fingers with hers and push inside her, kissing up her moan of delight. ‘First one to come, Dove, gets up with the twins,’ I say, knowing my wife won’t let me get away with anything.
She laughs. ‘No way, Black. I’ve missed them too. I’m doing the breakfast routine tomorrow.’
‘How about we do it together?’ I love my family. I hate missing out. ‘It’s their birthday.’ I move inside her so she starts clawing at my back.
She nods, her eyes shiny with emotion. ‘Good idea. Sleep is overrated anyway.’
‘Yes, it is,’ I agree, silencing her with another kiss.
We spend the rest of the long, stormy night proving that, with love, everyone is a winner.
* * *
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CHAPTER ONE
Vesta
I STOOD OUTSIDE the St George Hotel, housed in a gracious brownstone on New York’s Upper East Side, taking a couple of deep breaths and trying to calm my racing heartbeat. I didn’t get nervous often, but I was nervous now, and with good reason.
The instructions my friend Maggie had forwarded to me were quite specific.
I was to go to the desk and ask for the penthouse suite which had been booked specifically for the night. The door would be ajar and there would be no need to knock. I was to go into the living area and sit down in the armchair. A blindfold would be provided on the table next to me. I was to put it on and make sure it was secure. And I was not under any circumstances, no matter what I heard, no matter what happened, to take it off.
Maggie hadn’t had this particular client before, but he was apparently renowned for his specific instructions. And for his massive tips. And for his magical ability to give orgasms to every woman he hired from Company of Strangers.
Clients who used Company of Strangers didn’t expect sex—it wasn’t that kind of agency—but every single woman this client hired always wanted it from this guy. Even though they never, ever saw him.
A mystery man. A faceless stranger.
Perfect for my purposes, in other words.
I wanted someone to help put behind me the man I’d loved since I was sixteen, who consistently refused to have anything to do me. Someone to take the virginity that had hung around my neck like a millstone for the past nine years.
Someone I could imagine as someone else.
Yes, he’d do.
I took another breath and approached the hotel, pushing open the discreet wrought-iron black gate and going up the marble steps. The heavy front door opened soundlessly and I found myself in a flagged marble atrium, very old-world with luxurious leather couches and jewel-toned Persian rugs everywhere.
A huge chandelier hung over the antique oak of the check-in desk, scattering glittering prisms of light over every surface.
The place breathed money and glamor, uncomfortably reminding me of my own privileged upbringing, though that was seven years in the past and almost an entire continent away. A much more West Coast kind of rich. Infinity pools and white stucco, martinis and plastic surgery.
Ugh. Thank God I’d left all of that behind.
Gathering my courage, I put a bit of ‘fuck you’ confidence I didn’t feel in my step as I approached the check-in desk.
Maggie had told me that there was no need to go all out
with my clothes or make-up, so I’d decided on discreetly sexy. Blue silk bias-cut shift dress with very narrow straps. Simple, but it left my shoulders basically bare, showing off my ink, and it matched the blue tips of my hair. I’d dressed it up with some black platform sandals with ties winding up my calf, and no underwear, just for kicks. Because what woman pretending to be a high-class escort, filling in with a client for her friend, would go to said meeting with underwear on?
I hadn’t checked with Maggie about that. But then, I liked to live dangerously.
I gave Maggie’s name to the woman at the desk and she gave me a professional smile and directions to the penthouse suite. Unlocked the private elevator. She didn’t give me a key.
I moved over the marble floor towards the elevator, trying very hard not to look as though I was pretending to be someone I wasn’t.
Company of Strangers provided high-flying business people of both sexes with ‘company’ for however long they required it. ‘Company’ could be just that—a friend to talk to for people who had no time to build friendships and were happy to pay for them. Or it could involve more, depending on the agreement of both parties.
My best friend Maggie had been working for them for a couple of years, and she’d been very happy with the arrangement, though I’d been unsure when she’d first started. It had initially seemed like a glorified escort agency to me—not that there was anything wrong with that—but I’d realised as time had gone on that it was a little more complicated.
All the clients on Strangers’ books had been vetted for the safety of those working for them. Meetings were conducted as ‘friendship and company’ only, but sex could become part of it if the two parties were willing. All employees had a panic button they could press if things became difficult and security was only a minute or two away at any given time.