His sleepy eyes behind his glasses have a soppy edge to them, and his bottom lip is protruding, so much so there’s a risk of him tripping over it should he move forward. He looks sorry as he holds onto the metal handle, stopping me from pushing the door around.
‘Are you mad with me?’ he asks lamely.
‘Not at all,’ I quip on a sarcastic laugh. ‘I love the fact that you’ve probably fucked every woman in London. Fills me with joy.’
‘I haven’t fucked every woman in London.’
‘How many, then?’ I have no idea why I’m asking this. I really don’t want to know. Besides, I’ve seen the endless photographs on the internet.
His shoulders jump up on a guilty shrug. ‘A few.’
‘A few hundred? A few thousand?’ I feel nauseous and jealous, the thought of another woman feeling him, touching him, seeing him naked, sending me positively insane. I thought I only had to worry about the threat of his love affair with his treasure. But seeing him in action, seeing these women fall all over themselves for him, I’m now feeling threatened for other reasons.
Arghhhhh!
‘I don’t know how to do this, Eleanor.’ Becker dodges my question smartly, and I’m grateful. Guessing numbers is one thing. Having confirmation is another.
‘And I’m not sure if I can show you,’ I retort shortly, and his face drops, hurt invading it. I feel guilty, damn me. My fingers come to my temples and press into my skin, trying to push the stress away. ‘Please stop flirting.’
He frowns, like that’s an unreasonable request. It tells me that I was right with my assumption. It’s natural for him to behave like that around women. ‘You mean like you just did in Simon Timms’s office?’ he questions in surprise.
Yeah. I asked for that. ‘I was proving a point.’
‘Which was?’
I snap my mouth shut and think. I have no answer, and his raised eyebrow and expectant look tells me he’s aware of that. I’ve been as bad as him today, shame on me. ‘Two wrongs don’t make a right,’ I huff, taking the door handle and pushing my weight into it. It doesn’t budge.
‘I don’t like it when you’re mad with me.’ Becker pushes his bottom lip out again, enhancing his sorry face.
‘Pick up your lip,’ I order shortly, trying to push the door again. It goes nowhere, but Becker’s lip does. He juts it out even further. ‘Stop it.’
His eyes droop.
‘Becker, I’m being serious.’
‘So am I.’
‘You’re being a juvenile.’
‘Well, I kind of am when it comes to love.’ He gives me an adorable smile. He knows what he’s doing, and I can’t really challenge that, because he’s right. ‘If I flash you my arse, will you forgive me?’ he asks on a hopeful smile.
I drop my eyes on a shake of my head. ‘I’ll forgive you if you promise to stop with the stupid games.’
‘Okay. I promise, I’m sorry. Old habits die hard, huh?’
I give him a look of utter disbelief. ‘You’ll die if you don’t pack it in, because I’ll bloody kill you.’
‘Yikes, that bad th . . .’ He fades off, and I glance back up to his adorably annoying face, finding he’s staring past me. And he looks worried. I turn to see what’s captured his attention.
And go stiff as a board.Chapter 14All of the blood rises to my head and reddens my face.
Alexa.
It’s a good job I’m trapped behind the glass, because I can’t guarantee my conduct if I wasn’t. Becker’s ex-screw is looking me up and down like I’m the most repulsive thing she’s ever seen, her enhanced lips pursed, her blond hair in a harsh up-do. I’m suddenly moving, the glass pane behind me pushing me around, and I soon find myself within a metre of her on the pavement, nothing between us.
‘Ah,’ she sings, super over-the-top. I know by her tone and the derisive look on her face that the next thing she says is going to be scathing. ‘It’s the skivvy.’ She flicks her silk scarf over her shoulder.
Be cool, Eleanor. Be cool.
‘Becker prefers to call me his girlfriend these days,’ I retort on a sweet smile.
She can’t hide her shock, though she tries her hardest. ‘Not for long. He’s never been able to resist these legs wrapped around his waist.’
Kill her. No, kill her with kindness. That’s what I should do. Don’t rise to it. Be refined and grown up. ‘Oh fuck off,’ I spit, throwing my bag onto my shoulder, just as something meets my back with a thud. I jolt forward, courtesy of Becker barrelling into me. He’s worried, and so he should be. I’ve endured enough brash women today.
‘Becker.’ Alexa eradicates all the spite from her voice and smiles all sweet and innocent at my boss. No, my boyfriend. He’s my boyfriend. ‘Lovely to see you.’