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  Gregory steps towards me as the other guests go back to their own business. I hold up a palm. “Don’t. I’ve had just about all the humiliation I can take.”

  I barge past him, walking quickly, almost running the corridor to our room. Jealousy burns through my entire body, worse than this morning, worse than when any other woman has looked at him because this is different. He was like an animal, so protective and...possessive.

  I sit onto the edge of the bed and make soothing circles with my fingers at my temples. I really might be going insane. I don’t know how much more I can take of this man, his hidden truths, his lies, our lies, our deception.

  Does he love her? Is he fucking her? The rational side of my brain is screaming no but the other has been crying out for him to say those three words to me.

  The bedroom door closes but I refuse to look at him. “Scarlett.”

  “Don’t talk to me, Gregory. I don’t want to hear it.”

  He stalks towards me, his feet moving into my line of sight. “Hear what? That I’m not sorry I just stopped that arsehole taking Charlie to bed?”

  “No. I don’t want to hear the why.”

  He bends now, putting his hands on my knees and lifts my chin with his index finger in that goddamn tender Gregory way.

  “Those women, all of them, they want you. I’ve been fighting the pack all day. Then you ignore me to flirt with Adriana all night. And don’t tell me it’s just business, she was all over you. To top it off, you let the entire world know that, that...do you love Charlotte?”

  He laughs, like I’m a silly little girl and I want to slap his stupid, arrogant, beautiful face.

  “Scarlett, angel, she’s a kid. She’s like a sister to me. I’ve known her since she was a tot. I’m not in love with her but I look out for her. Like a brother should look out for a sister. And Williams...” He stops and shakes his head. “Williams does a pretty shitty job of it sometimes.”

  “Stella said...have you...have you slept with her?”

  He pushes up from my knees and sets about undoing his bowtie. “Grow up, Scarlett.”

  My eyes sting with tears. “Don’t say that to me. It’s you who makes me act like this...ridiculous.” I can’t bear the thought of anyone else having you.

  He sighs and drops his bowtie onto the chest of drawers.

  “And what about all these other women? Have they...have they had you?”

  “I’m not dignifying that question with an answer.”

  “That’s a yes.”

  He throws his dinner jacket onto the bed and makes his way to the bathroom. “No. That means stop behaving like a fucking child.”

  I know it’s irrational and I know how pathetic I must look but the weight of today, the weight of everything, is crippling my chest. I move to the wardrobe and retrieve my bag, throwing my clothes, shoes and anything else into it in no sort of order. I just need to get out of here. I’m losing my mind.

  “Scarlett.” His voice is soft and quiet as he leans in the doorway to the bathroom, watching me pack.

  “I’m going, Gregory. I don’t know why you brought me here.”

  He stalks towards me topless, all moody and sexy as hell. Damn myself for looking!

  “Where do you think you’re going to go?”

  Shit! I can’t drive, neither can he and I’m in the middle of nowhere. Throwing my deodorant into the bag, I thrust the whole thing against the bathroom wall, frustrated and defeated. My eyes are beyond stinging now, they’re on fire.

  He moves towards me and I flinch as he rests his hands on my shoulders and lowers his head so I’m forced to look into those devastating eyes. “I brought you here because I wanted to spend the night with you. I have a funny way of showing it, I know. I messed up. Again. And I’m sorry.”

  I swipe my wet cheeks with the back of my hand and storm into the bathroom with less conviction than I had just moments ago.

  Once I’ve showered and put on my nightdress, Gregory comes into the bathroom and showers quickly. We brush our teeth, each of us casting occasional glances at the other in the mirror above the his-and-hers sink but neither of us speaking.

  I crawl under the bed covers with no intention of speaking to him or touching him, leaning as far on my side of the bed as I physically can without falling out. But his strong arm wraps around my waist and pulls me into his chest. My body caves in.

  “I hate that I make you unhappy,” he whispers into my neck.

  “You do.” I squirm into his chest. “But you’ve also shown me a new kind of happy.” And there’s my dilemma, Gregory Ryans. I’m a mess with you but I think I’d be a bigger mess without you. “And maybe, maybe, I overreacted.”

  He nuzzles into my neck. “It’s not just about tonight. I get it.”

  I roll over to face him, my head resting on his pillow. “This isn’t easy on either of us, especially you. And I know you want to tell me you won’t be charged but we can’t know that for sure. I don’t want you to take the blame for me, Gregory.”

  His face contorts in contrast to the tender fingers he trails down my cheek. My chest flutters as he opens his mouth to speak. I wait.

  “I just wish the decision would come sooner rather than later.”

  A piece of my heart breaks as I swallow my waning faith. “Me too.”

  “Can I kiss you?”

  I nod and he lowers his lips to mine.

  “Gregory.”

  “Hmm.”

  “If you could try not to make every woman you meet desire you, it would really make my life a whole lot bloody easier.”

  “I’ll do my best,” he says, his chest rising against mine as he smiles into my hair. He slips a hand under my nightdress and pulls me against his stiffening crotch.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Rise and shine, baby, you need to get dressed. We need to get back to London.”

  I roll onto my back with a moan. “Why are we in such a rush?”

  He looks over his shoulder from his perch on the end of the bed where he’s pulling on his boots. “As much as I could look at that fine naked body of yours all day, I want it in my bed.”

  Oh! “Is that right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And what if I say no?”

  He crawls onto the bed in his dark jeans and black T-shirt and lies above me, twinkling browns gazing down at me.

  “You won’t,” he says, his minty breath too close, making it difficult for me to find sensibility.

  “Oh, really?”

  “Really, because I happen to know you can’t resist me.”

  I have to force my hands to stay by my side instead of going rummaging under his T-shirt. “Hmm, you’ve got me. It’s your modesty. I’m so hot for it.”

  In one fast move, he pins my hands to my sides with his legs and thrusts his tickling fingers under my arms.

  “Get off me, Gregory! Get off me!”

  I squirm beneath him but he doesn’t relent. My squirms turn to screams and as his tickling increases a laugh takes over my body. I’m heaving and panting but he still keeps going. “Stop! Please, stop!”

  He halts his assault and I heave air into my chest. “Will you quit with the attitude?”

  “I don’t have an attitude!”

  “Wrong answer.” The torture recommences. His fingers are attacking my skin again and I’m squealing in response until the squealing turns back into a rib-aching laugh. “Stop! Please! Stop it!”

  “Will you be nice to me?” This time he won’t give me a second to think, his fingers continue driving my fit of giggles. God, it feels good to laugh.

  “Yes! Yes. I’ll be nice to you.”

  He stops. I scowl at him once the pain in my ribs has subsided and he flashes me his most mischievous gri
n, white perfect teeth and all. “Good girl. Come on.” He jumps off the bed and offers me a hand.

  “What’re we doing?”

  “You are going to get dressed.”

  He pulls me towards him and drops a kiss on the tip of my nose. “Then I’m going to take you home and make all of this up to you. Today is all about Scarlett.”

  “You mean, you’re apologising to me.”

  He cocks his head to one side on a playful pout. “Do I need to show you who’s boss again?”

  I shake my head quickly. “So do I get to choose what we do?”

  “Erm, no. I said today is all about Scarlett not up to Scarlett. But don’t worry, I plan on making up to you all day. What else are Sundays for?”

  Sunday. Day eight.

  “What’s wrong, baby?”

  “Nothing... I was just thinking—”

  “That John Harrison told us five to seven days. I know.”

  “How can you be so calm?”

  “It’s life, Scarlett.”

  “I’m not even going to pretend I understand that comment.”

  “Look at me. Stop biting your lip. Tell me what else John said.”

  I shrug.

  “He said the longer it takes for the CPS to make a decision the better. We’re another day closer to putting that night behind us, baby.”

  I wish I could believe that, I really do.

  * * *

  Gregory spins the Range Rover into a Waitrose supermarket carpark and leaves, returning with a bag of shopping, which he drops into the back seat.

  “Are you cooking for me?” I ask, unable to hide the surprise in my voice.

  He casts his head over his shoulder and reverses out of the space, then knocks the car into first gear and shoots out of the car park at Gregory speed.

  “I’m feeding you,” he says, watching the road ahead with the smallest upturn of his lips. “Well, I might be, that really depends on you.”

  By the time we reach the Shard I really am hungry but I can’t tell which is the bigger cause, my empty stomach or the ache between my thighs. Gregory opens the door for me and as soon as we’re in, he casts the weekend bag aside. My back is pressed against the wall of the lounge and he takes me by surprise, his tongue making a delicious sweep of mine. I’ll never be able to resist his touch, his taste. I accept his attack, groaning into him. He circles his already hard crotch against my skinny jeans and pulls my body into him with one arm at the small of my back, the other at the nape of my neck. I liquefy in his hold as he takes command of my body. I know who’s boss and I don’t care. I willingly relent control.

  He pushes his crotch into me again, his movement mirroring the swirl of his tongue in my mouth. He undoes the studs of my cream blouse and pushes it over my shoulders to the floor. My fingers move to the hem of his blue jumper, lifting it until he has to break our contact for a second to take it over his head. Then his lips are back on mine, absorbing my moan when his bare chest touches my skin.

  In one easy move, he lifts me, my legs wrapping around his lean hips. He carries us to the walk-in shower and plants me on my feet whilst he turns it on.

  “I’m hot from the drive,” he explains. Not that I need an explanation, I’ll take any opportunity to see his sublime naked body. He releases my hair from its messy knot and pulls it through his fingers. “I’ll never have my fill of you, angel.”

  “Good,” I whisper into his parted lips. I pull his bottom lip slowly through my teeth as his fingers move to my jeans, unfastening then slowly pushing them down my legs. I lift my feet as instructed. He takes in my semi-naked form as I repeat the action, releasing him entirely from his jeans and boxers, savouring the view of his solid length.

  My bra is released with the expert fingers of one hand, then his teeth are on my nipple, biting and sucking, spiking my want. His tongue draws a line from my breastbone to the parting of my legs. He slips his thumbs into the side of my thong and drags it down my thighs, sucking my breast as he moves.

  Standing, he lifts my legs back around his hips, walking us into the shower. He stands us under the hot water then squirts shower cream into my palms. He drops his mouth to mine and leans his hands against the tiles either side of my head. Then he releases me and lets me indulge in the feel of his skin as I work the cream over his entire body, my hands moving like silk, finally drawing a smooth stroke up his swollen length.

  “I think I’m going to like make-up sex,” I tell him.

  “Baby, I like every kind of sex with you.”

  I tug his brown strands and press my body to his. We groan into each other as our hips gyrate in sync, working us both into a frenzy.

  He breaks our contact to fill his hands with shower cream—a necessary break if I’m going to last a minute longer. He glides the cream over my shoulders, down my arms and back, smirking as he moves in smooth circles over the cheeks of my arse. Then bends to clean my thighs. I’m already panting, my bud tight and tingling at the thought of him taking me. As his hands glide back up my legs, I let my shoulders rest back against the cold tiles. This is one hell of an apology. I gasp, my body jerking forward, as he thrusts two fingers into me.

  “Gregory.” His name is barely audible through my frantic breaths.

  “How does it feel, baby?”

  I try but no words form in my dry mouth.

  “Tell me how it feels, Scarlett.”

  “Good. So good.”

  His mouth covers my nipple and my legs tremble under the perfect rhythm of his thumb circling my pulsing clit and the pull of his teeth on my sensitive skin.

  “Gregory! I need to come.”

  “I know you do, baby. This is all about you. I want you to feel every bit as special as you are.”

  He takes my other nipple, sucking hard as he pushes his fingers deeper inside me, quickening the pace of his three pronged attack.

  “Oh, God! I’m there!”

  “Let go, baby.”

  He swirls his tongue around the tip of my breast and leans his wet body against me, increasing the pressure and depth of him inside my sex. I completely unravel, crying out as my body pulses and bucks under his touch. He pulls me closer as I writhe against him, delighting in the feel of his naked flesh, drawing out my pleasure.

  “What do you want?” I ask.

  He smiles as he kisses me. “Today is about you.”

  He leans behind me and turns off the shower. Then he dries every inch of my skin and towel dries my hair, letting me see tender Gregory, the Gregory that most people never get to meet and I only sometimes get to see. He takes my hand after a chaste kiss on my brow and leads me to the walk-in wardrobe in all our naked glory. He slips into a pair of dark denim jeans and fumbles around locating my underwear drawer. That heartbreaking half smile is plastered on his perfectly angular face when he turns, dangling a black lace thong in the air from one hand and a black satin eye cover in the other.

  “Dry your hair then wait for me in the bedroom. Wearing these...only these.”

  I have no idea what he’s planning but something tells me I’ll like it. I do as he says, making quick working of hanging my head upside down and blasting my long locks with the hairdryer. I coat myself in shea butter then slip on the black thong and make my way to our bed, crawling backwards up the sheets, already turned on with anticipation. When his footsteps approach, I slip on the blindfold as he told me to do. Just the sound of him, knowing he’s in the room, has me wriggling and turning my fingers in the satin bed throw.

  I quell my excitement, digging my teeth into my bottom lip, then the sound of him is drowned out by The Verve’s “She’s a Superstar.” The guitar hits my ears first, followed by the beat of the bass drum and when the beat drops for the smooth voice, I can feel Gregory near me. My nerve endings are tingling like the strings of the elect
ric guitar. His hands part my thighs, his touch and the soft kiss of air between my labia set off fireworks at my no doubt drenched vulva. His mouth strokes my navel, sucking, nibbling, his bare body caressing mine as he works up to my neck.

  “Open your mouth.” He words are low and drenched in sex. “We’re going to play a game.”

  I’d ask him what the game is but my brain refuses to send a signal to my lips. I open my mouth, my heart rate already rising.

  “You’re going to guess what I put in your mouth.” He’s hovering over me now, his breath close to me. “If you guess right, I’ll feed you.”

  “If not?”

  “You’ll go hungry.”

  I know he doesn’t mean for food. He’ll refrain from the only thing that can sate the hunger I’m feeling right now in my spinning head, my fluttering chest, my knotted stomach and my throbbing entrance. The stakes are high.

  “We’ll start easy.” He lowers himself so the weight of his hips is pressing his erection onto my abdomen, his torso held on his arms. “Open.”

  Cool, wet, smooth. He slowly sweeps something across my lips. The tip of my tongue slides forward to meet it. Mmm, sweetness. I swirl my tongue around the tip of the fruit, lapping up the syrupy juice. Then the fruit is gone. I want more.

  “Strawberry.”

  “Good girl.”

  The strawberry is back on my lips. I reach out my tongue again, this time finding Gregory’s mouth wrapped around the berry, lowering the fruit into my mouth. I bite into the strawberry when his mouth presses against mine. We chew and swallow, then he sucks the last drop of flavour from my bottom lip.

  Jesus, that’s erotic.

  He draws back, exposing my lips, my face, my chest, leaving me squirming, bereft beneath him, desperate for his touch. I go to move my hands to his hair but his hands clamp down on my wrists and place them back to my sides.

  “No touching.”

  I twist my fingers into the bed throw, my hips mirroring the circular motion.

  “Another?” The lust in his words is a match from my wanton state. I shake my head, meaning to nod.