I’m rewarded with a laughing emoji and an X.
I fire an X in response and lean back in my chair, realising I’m grinning like a bloody idiot.
But I don’t care.
She’s safe from Philip for another night and that’s what matters.
* * *
I’ve never been more glad to leave an event in my life. I’m like a kid on Christmas morning, giddy and hyper as I sweep through the remaining guests and make for the doors. I’ve already had a text from Ash saying he’s here and I can’t wait to see him.
I know how I look. I’m wearing my favourite silver dress—low at the back, high at the front, but with a daring split to the thigh to make up for it. I feel sexy, and I know that’s because of him, the way he makes me feel, the things he says, the way he looks at me.
And he listens. Really listens. He’s not just eyeing me, pondering what he can get. Christ, part of me wishes he was—then I could coax him into something public, something more certain. But I’m not going to debate that now. I’m going to enjoy what I can have: him, naked and beneath me.
I have to ask a passing waiter for directions to the tradesman’s entrance and I expect his brow to hit the roof. I mean, I’m giggling like a schoolgirl as I ask. I could blame the champagne but it’s not that. I’m drunk on Ash and what the night has in store.
He points me in the right direction and I’m off, as fast as a person can travel on heels as high as mine. Even the weight of ‘will we or won’t we have a future together’ has left me. All I care about is the here and now—and he is definitely here.
I thrust at the bar that’s holding the double doors shut and burst out onto the street. His car is there, neon headlamps shining, and my heart soars into my throat.
&
nbsp; Yes.
I shove the doors back into place and the car door opens. He steps out and I lift the skirt of my dress as I walk faster than the front slit will allow.
He’s a silhouette against the lights, his tall, imposing frame so him. It’s starting to rain, but I barely notice as I come to a stop in front of him and tilt my head back to meet his eyes.
‘Hi,’ I say—and his lips are on mine, feverish, urgent.
The rain starts to pick up, its patter as rapid as my pulse, ruining my hair, my make-up, but I couldn’t care less. All I think about is him, his hands hot on the bare skin of my back, his heat mixing with the wet specks of rain as I kiss him harder. He’s all minty fresh and delicious and I want more. I want it all. He’s missed me. I can feel it. Just as I’ve missed him.
The rain starts to pound, pelting the car, the ground, us. He wraps me tighter against him and breaks his mouth away.
‘Come on—before we get caught doing something we shouldn’t.’
I laugh, delirious on the rush he’s kicked up within me, and hurry in step with him to the passenger door. He pulls it open and helps me in, before closing it and racing around to his side. I get a brief glimpse of him in the headlamps: rakish stubble, shorn hair, strong jaw, glinting gaze, rain running down his face and dressed all in black... I smile.
The second he jumps in, I lean across and kiss his cheek. ‘Thank you for coming.’
He catches my face in his palm, holding me there, his eyes ablaze and all the more intense with the rain beading on his lashes.
‘Any time.’
He strokes away the dampness on my cheeks as I inhale his words. If only it could be.
He sweeps over my lips with his thumb, his lips, then settles back into his seat, running a hand over his face and hair to dry it off before buckling himself in.
I do the same. ‘You think you could do this every night?’ I’m only half joking.
He grins as he puts the car in Reverse. ‘For as long as you want me to.’
I give a soft smile. I can’t imagine never wanting this—him at my beck and call.
Ten minutes into the journey and neither of us has spoken further. The rain is lashing down, the wipers are beating it back, making him frown with concentration. I haven’t wanted to distract him and, to be honest, I’m enjoying the view.
‘What?’ he suddenly says, flicking me a look.