With This Man (This Man 4)

‘No shit.’

That scowl, it darkens, and my smile widens. ‘Don’t push your luck.’

‘Don’t push yours.’ I laugh, passing him and heading for the door. My shoulder brushes his arm, and before I know what’s happened, I’m pressed against the nearest wall by his hard body. Damn, this man moves fast.

Getting up in my face, his green eyes almost dull, he growls, low and deep. His heart is clattering in his chest, the beats penetrating me. He’s worried. Worried about being away from me? It might be unhealthy and unreasonable, but to me it’s strangely comforting. Every move this man makes, everything he says, all his facial expressions and reactions, they all touch me somewhere deep, and my gut tells me it’s all okay. Everything is fine. Instinct tells me how to react. My heart tells me how to love him. My mind tells me how to handle him.

I’m slowly putting it all together, figuring him out. He is the biggest part of who I am.

‘I’ll drive carefully.’ My instinct to reassure him is so natural. I’m wondering where it’s coming from, since he’s being completely unreasonable. ‘I’ll be a couple of hours, at the most. I’ll be back before you know it, I promise.’

‘And what if you aren’t?’ He’s serious, his mind spinning with dread and the worst-case scenarios. ‘Do you know how long it took me to finally lengthen the reins I have on you? Years, Ava. Years of my fear battling with my reason.’

‘You have a reasonable side?’ I ask, trying to throw some lightness into the mix. This is utterly ridiculous. I’m going to yoga for two hours, max.

His green eyes narrow into warning slits. ‘Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, lady.’ He’s not impressed, and like the sly bastard I’ve figured he is, he rolls those damn gorgeous hips into my groin, using his power over me like the weapon it is. ‘We need to make friends.’

‘Have we fallen out?’ I laugh, trying to wriggle free, even though I know I’m going nowhere until he says so.

‘Yes, we have.’ His eyes are now gleaming, hypnotising, as he drops his mouth to my cheek and takes a light bite. He purrs, and I groan, having to stop myself from knocking my head against the wall behind me. What he can do to me, how he can make me feel, staggers me every time. ‘Stay with me.’

My eyes close, the feel of his lovely lips trailing lazily all over my face debilitating me. He makes it to my mouth and laps his tongue far and wide, pushing me further up the wall. Oh my lord, he’s a fucking god. My temperature is rising, my blood racing through my veins, my mind blitzed. And then I feel him smile around our kiss. I don’t have to see it to know it’s a smile full of satisfaction.

‘No.’ I find some willpower and yank myself from my bliss, pushing him away, ignoring the animalistic growl. I’m learning his game. I pull my bag back onto my shoulder and get my breathing on track. Jesus Christ, every part of me wants him, wants to let him completely consume me, to make love to me. But I’m so nervous about that. My eyes drop to his groin. I felt it. Only briefly, but I felt it. It’s fucking colossal, but it felt so bloody amazing, just that one stroke. I quickly realign my thoughts before I jump him. Would he like that? ‘I’m going to yoga.’

‘Then you’ll be punished later, lady.’

‘Fine.’ I head for the door on a shake of my head, yet I smile to myself. Because I think I could be falling for the nutter.

As I take the steps down to the BMW, I pull myself together, tamp down my want, and focus on the afternoon ahead. Taking the handle of the door, I look back as I pull it open, finding Jesse at the front door, his shoulder leaning against the door frame, his big arms folded across his big chest. He’s smiling. The crazy-arse loon.

Pivoting back to the car, I only just stop myself from falling into the seat. Or onto Jesse’s friend’s lap. Not that there’s much room with the huge black man taking up the driver’s seat.

‘What?’ I blurt, righting myself and taking the top of the door.

He lifts his wraparounds and beams at me, flashing a gold tooth. ‘Afternoon, girl,’ he rumbles, thumbing to the other side of the car. ‘It’s like the good old days, huh?’

My teeth clench with force that might crumble them, and I look up to find a very smug-looking man still holding position in the doorway. Unbelievable!

‘It’s you who will be getting punished!’ I yell, stomping around to the passenger side. I haven’t got time to argue; I’ll be late for my first class, and I certainly won’t be shifting the mountain of a man in the driver’s seat.

‘Look forward to it, lady!’ he calls on an irritating chuckle, earning a scowl from me that rivals any that he dishes out.

I slam the door and face John. ‘I can’t believe he’s got you driving me.’

John laughs, his huge sausage fingers gripping the wheel. ‘Girl, I drove you all over the place when you two first hooked up.’

‘It doesn’t surprise me,’ I say, staring at his profile thoughtfully. ‘I have déjà vu,’ I muse quietly, and he smiles. He has a lovely smile, warm and reassuring.

‘That doesn’t surprise me, girl.’ His left hand leaves the wheel, extending towards me, his palm face up. I lay mine in the huge shovel and he grips, firm but gentle. ‘Feeling overwhelmed?’

‘By so much.’

‘But mostly him, yes?’

‘He’s an intense man.’

‘Like I’ve said to you a million times before, girl, only with you.’ Setting my hand in my lap, he takes his own back to the wheel. ‘You and those kids are his world, but you know that already. Ain’t no man on this planet like Jesse Ward.’ He laughs under his breath a little, and I smile, sensing a fondness emanating from the big guy that feels somehow right.

‘You’re going to tell me to go easy on him, aren’t you?’

‘That motherfucker is fragile under all that bravado and muscle.’

‘He went through a lot. His brother, his uncle.’

John hums, returning his full attention to the road. ‘Looking forward to your first session with Elsie?’

Is it me, or has he just swiftly changed the subject? I frown. ‘I am. Do you remember someone called Sarah?’ I press my lips together, watching for his reaction.

‘Of course.’

‘Did you know she’s back?’

He casts his face slowly to mine. ‘I did.’ He’s giving me nothing, so I continue to press lightly.

‘Do I have anything to worry about?’

‘Girl, there’s not a woman dead or alive who would turn your husband’s head.’

‘But he turns theirs,’ I point out, knowing deep down that it’s not really my husband I need to worry about, but maybe a woman’s desperation. Jesse is stunning. Tall, confident, strong, and a whole heap of other things.

‘He doesn’t see any of them.’ His look now is almost stern, like he’s annoyed I’m letting something that’s apparently trivial bother me. ‘Only you exist in that man’s eyes, girl. Never forget that.’

I sigh, staring out of the window as we drive the streets of London. And I scold myself because though my memories are a little lost, my instinct isn’t. To Jesse Ward, I am life.

*

John drops me off with instructions to call him when I’m ready, and the first thing that hits me when I enter Elsie’s studio is the sound of background music, which I quickly determine is whale calls. The place is warm, the walls made up of dark wooden panels, only a few tiny spotlights scattered in between the dozens of floor-standing plants. A few tie-dye tapestries hang from the walls, and a small fountain in the corner trickles calming water down the side of glistening grey rocks.

‘Ava.’ Elsie’s voice matches the scene perfectly, all calm and soothing. It’s peaceful, tranquil, and I feel at ease. ‘How lovely to see you.’ Kissing me on both cheeks, she links arms with me and walks us to some bamboo doors, sliding them open. ‘This is where we’ll practise.’ She practically floa

ts across the room, her long white cover-up trailing the floor. Taking a mat from a hook on the wall, she lays it down for me. ‘Let me take your bag and we’ll get started.’

‘Thank you.’ I give up my satchel and kneel. ‘I wasn’t sure what to wear.’ I pull at my leggings.

‘That’s just fine. As long as you’re comfortable.’

Elsie pulls her cover-up over her head, revealing a toned, curvy figure dressed in a black leotard. I’m in slight awe; the woman must be in her sixties, and she looks amazing. Sitting on her bottom and crossing her legs with ease, she motions me to follow, which I do, a little nervous.

‘Breathe in through your nose slowly, and out through your mouth. In and out. In and out. Clear your mind, and let me take you on a journey to another world.’

I wrestle to clear my mind, which is trickier than it probably should be, but it’s been so full for days, fighting to find memories, trying to surmise what certain things mean. I squeeze my eyes shut and listen to Elsie’s voice, quiet and soothing, guiding me through the process to achieve complete clear headspace.

Peace.

It settles over me like a warm blanket, and I fall into a trance, focusing on Elsie’s quiet instructions as she guides me through some simple poses, ones that apparently cleanse the body of stress. And it works.

I follow her lead, accepting the help she offers when I struggle to get a few things right, my leg aching a bit in certain poses. Not too much, but enough for me to have to ask her to stop.

An hour later, I’m on my back, my legs up against a wall, my mind clear. ‘You did so well, Ava,’ Elsie says, helping me get my legs down. ‘I’ll wait for you in reception. Take your time.’

I slowly get to my feet, stretching. I feel like I’ve had a week’s worth of sleep, my body and mind revitalised and fresh. That was so wonderful. I smile, despite not finding any memories, a new sense of hope and contentment flourishing as I collect my bag and make my way out of the studio, ready to thank Elsie from the bottom of my heart for suggesting this.

I find her sitting on a soft velvet chair, rubbing some cream into her hands. ‘Elsie, I can’t thank you enough,’ I gush, so pleased. ‘I feel like a new woman already.’

Elsie’s face scrunches into a little impish grin as she stands and approaches, taking my hands. Her skin is soft, and the smell of sweet jasmine immediately hits my nose, seeming to add another layer of peace over me. Honestly, this woman, this place, it’s like an amazing medicine.

‘I told John this would be good for you. He’s told me all about that man of yours.’ Her head tilts cheekily, and I laugh a little. ‘Passionate, but a little overbearing, yes?’

‘A little,’ I admit, not wanting to bring him down too much. I know he’s struggling, too. ‘He means well.’

‘Of course he does. He loves you with a fire in his soul. Now, will I be seeing you again?’

‘God, yes. How much do I owe you for today?’

Her hand stops mine from going into my purse. ‘I don’t charge friends,’ she says, looking past me when the door behind us opens. ‘Can I help you?’

I turn and see a woman gingerly entering. She shuts the door behind her, pulling her bag higher on her shoulder. ‘I was told you do yoga sessions here.’

‘Why yes, dear,’ Elsie glides across to her, her friendly smile almost sorry. ‘But I’m afraid I only teach one student at a time, and my schedule is rather full.’

‘Oh, I see.’ The woman looks sad now, too, and I find myself stepping forward.

‘I don’t mind sharing my session, Elsie,’ I say, smiling at the woman when her eyes sparkle hopefully. After all, I’m not paying. I feel bad for hogging a whole hour of Elsie’s time, and she refuses to take my money.

‘Are you sure, Ava?’ Elsie takes my hand and squeezes.

I look to the woman and smile. ‘I’m sure she won’t make much noise.’

Elsie laughs, as does the woman. ‘I’m sorry, my name is Zara.’ She offers her hand. ‘You really don’t have to do this.’

‘It’s fine.’ I brush it off. To be fair, she looks like she could do with the serenity of this place, too. She looks a little sad. ‘I’m Ava.’

‘Lovely to meet you, Ava.’

‘I’ll leave you two to see yourselves out.’ Elsie wanders back to the studio. ‘I need to prepare for my next session. See you Friday, then?’

‘See you, Elsie,’ I call, turning back to Zara.

‘I can’t thank you enough,’ she gushes. ‘I recently moved to the city after a shitty break-up and I’m trying to keep myself busy in my spare time, and I could really do with trying to chill out. Break-ups are stressful.’

‘You don’t have to thank me. Today was my first session with Elsie. She is just wonderful. You’ll love it.’

‘Can’t wait. So I guess I’ll see you on Friday.’

‘Do you fancy a coffee?’ It comes from nowhere, startling me. But her face is so friendly and warm, and, for the first time, I’m not frantically searching my head for the right things to say.

‘Oh, that would be lovely. Are you sure? I don’t want to keep you.’

I laugh a little. ‘Trust me, there’s nothing you’re keeping me from.’ I link arms with her and we walk out onto the street, heading for the café up the road. ‘I’m sorry about your break-up.’

‘Don’t be. I’m best rid of him.’ Zara smiles, though I sense a perpetual sadness lingering deep in her blue eyes. It’s a sadness she’s trying to hide from the world, and I can relate to that. I’m devastated that I can’t find what I’m desperately looking for, and it’s hard to keep my devastation from showing and tearing Jesse down, too. ‘The relationship was violent.’ She shrugs, like it’s nothing.

‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry.’

‘What doesn’t break you makes you stronger. That’s what they say, right?’

‘Right,’ I agree wholeheartedly. I’m not broken. But I certainly don’t feel any stronger at the moment. Call me mean, but hearing someone else’s problems makes me feel mighty better about my own.

The conversation is coming easily. It’s nice, normal. Zara isn’t looking at me with sympathy, she isn’t asking me pressing questions, searching my eyes for evidence of a memory like everyone around me does. She’s just chatting to me like a normal woman would.

‘Oh, excuse me,’ I say, pulling my phone from my pocket as we enter the coffee shop. ‘I need to call someone.’ My thumb falters over the screen, and I stare down, not sure how to even use the thing. I’ve answered Jesse’s phone, but that’s only because the thing told me to swipe. So I swipe. And get asked for a code. ‘Never mind.’ I’ll wait for John to call me. ‘I’ll get these,’ I say, shrugging my coat off. ‘What would you like?’

‘A latte would be lovely, thank you.’ Zara takes a seat while I order our drinks, pulling out my credit card and looking at the name across the front. Mrs A. Ward. I’m prompted by the server to pay, and I come over hot. What’s the PIN?

‘It’s contactless,’ he says, and I frown, catching a woman to my left tapping her card on the next machine. I follow her lead, raising my eyebrows when I see the machine tells me it’s accepted. I smile, chuffed, and take the drinks, heading for the table and settling with Zara.

Crazy as it seems, I’m feeling a little rebellious, going off the normal course of my day. ‘So where did you live before you came here?’ I ask.

‘Newcastle.’ She shakes her head on a laugh. ‘I can’t believe how expensive it is here!’

I find myself laughing, too, because I’ve been consistently shocked by inflation in my absent sixteen years. ‘Yeah, prices around these parts are no joke.’ I chink her coffee cup with mine. ‘How long have you been here?’

‘Only a couple of months. Still settling in, but I really miss my dog.’

‘Oh no, what happened?’

‘

Rentals won’t allow pets, so I lost him in the separation.’

‘Oh, that’s crap. So do you have a job?’

‘I do. Only started a month ago, but it’s going great, and the potential to climb the ladder is just what I want.’

‘What do you do?’ I sit back in my seat, riveted by the conversation, despite it being simple and normal and probably boring to some. But it’s different.

‘I specialise in commercial property interiors. It sounds rather boring, I know, but I’m passionate about it and that’s what matters, right?’

‘I used to be an interior designer.’ I sound utterly unimpressed with myself. I used to be. Now? Now I don’t know what I do.

‘Oh, you did?’ Her eyes light up as she sits forward in her chair. ‘Private?’ she asks, and I nod, telling the stupid lump in my throat to fuck off. ‘And you don’t any more?’

I shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. ‘My husband owns a health club. After I had the kids and some time off, it made sense for me to work there.’ At least, that’s what I assume.

As Zara rests back in her chair, she takes a sip of her coffee, thoughtful. ‘Well, if you ever decide to dip a toe back into that world, I know my company is always looking for talented designers in all sectors.’

What is that inside me? Excitement? ‘Really?’

‘Sure!’ She matches my beam. ‘I can put you in touch with my manager, if you’d like?’

‘I’d love that. Let me give you my number.’ That excitement doubles as Zara fetches her phone and gets ready for me to reel the digits off, looking up at me in prompt. ‘It’s . . .’ I fade off, rummaging through every corner of my mind for my own phone number. ‘It’s . . .’

Zara chuckles. ‘I never remember mine, either.’ She taps at the screen of her phone and turns it towards me. I see her name in her contacts and her number. ‘Call me and we can save them.’

I look down at my phone. It’s asking me for a code again.

‘Your birthday?’ Zara prompts, and I glance up, finding her smiling softly.

I have no idea. Am I that predictable? My date of birth isn’t the number that comes to mind, though. So I tap in the first four digits that do: 3210. The screen lights up, a dozen icons glaring at me. ‘Here.’ I hand it over. ‘It’s probably easier for you to enter it rather than reel it off to me.’