This Man Confessed (33 page)

I flop back on the bed in complete pregnancy-fuelled exasperation. My time in Paradise is up.

I
t’s the morning after we arrived home and I’m not a happy bunny. He’s woken, gone for a run, showered, and dressed, all without me, but he left my ginger biscuit and folic acid by the bed with some water. I’m standing in front of the floor-length mirror in my lace, drying my hair, when I see him in the reflection, strolling into the bedroom. He’s not shaved and he has on my favorite gray suit, black shirt, and a tie, but it doesn’t improve my mood, even if he does look edible.

“Morning,” he chirps, all happy and awake.

I flip him a scowl and chuck my hairdryer on the floor before stalking into the wardrobe to find something to wear—something I know he won’t approve of. I exit the wardrobe and slip my feet into my black suede heels, and then head straight for the bathroom. I’m aware of his large frame to the side of me, following my every move, and I snatch a quick look as I pass, seeing his hands resting lightly in his trouser pockets and an amused expression on his face. I don’t humor him with my time or silver tongue, instead finding my way to the bathroom mirror and making fast work of my makeup.

He walks in and comes to stand behind me, his fresh-water loveliness smacking me right in the nose. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, still displaying amusement on his face.

I pause, midmascara application, and pull back from the mirror. “I’m putting my makeup on,” I answer, knowing this is not what he means.

“Let me rephrase that. What do you think you’re wearing?”

“A dress.”

His eyebrows hit his hairline. “Let’s not start the day on a bad note, lady.” He holds my black pencil dress up. “Put the dress on.”

I take a deep breath of calm and turn to take the dress before exiting the bathroom without a word. I’ll put the dress on, but only because I’m worked up enough. Not only have I been snatched from Paradise, but, as predicted, I’ve also been tossed off Central Jesse Cloud Nine. London does our relationship absolutely no favors. No, let me rephrase that. Jesse in London does our relationship no favors.

I go out of my way to make the biggest deal of demonstrating the inconvenience he’s causing, not that he’s bothered. He stands patiently and observes as I remove my unauthorized dress and replace it with the one he’s sanctioned. Reaching behind my back, I grasp the zipper and pull it up my back, but I only get halfway before I lose my grip of the little piece of metal. I quickly locate it again, but the same thing happens.

I close my eyes, hating having to ask the smug arse for assistance. “Will you zip me up, please?”

“Of course,” he chirps, and the next second he’s pressed against my back, his mouth at my ear, instigating a ferocious wave of treacherous tingles to ride through me. My hair is grasped and draped down my front before he takes the zip and tugs. “Oh dear.”

“What? Is it broken?”

“Urm…” He tries again. “No, baby. I think you may have grown out of it.”

I gasp, completely horrified, and turn to see my back in the mirror. There’s a good inch of bare flesh revealed and the material is
not
stretchy. I sag on the inside and out. And so it begins. All of the pregnancy side effects will be accelerated because I have two peanuts, not one. I refuse to cry, although I could, quite easily. I need to embrace this. I need to match Jesse in the enthusiasm stakes. It’s all right for him; he’s still going to be a god at the end of all this, whereas my body will probably be ravaged. I turn to face him, finding an apprehensive face around a chewed lip. He thinks I’m going to disintegrate. “Can I put my other dress on now?” I ask quietly.

He visibly relaxes and even fetches my other dress for me, helping me out of the now too small one and into the newly authorized one. “Beautiful,” he says, “I need to scram. Cathy’s downstairs and she’s made you breakfast. Please eat it.”

“I will.”

He can’t hide his surprise at my easy submission. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for eating,” I mutter, grabbing my bag and making my way out of the bedroom.

“I feel like I should thank you for everything you do without arguing with me about it.” He follows me down the stairs.

“If you were still fucking sense into me, then I would argue.”

“Are you pissed because I didn’t service you this morning?” he asks, amusement rife in his tone.

“Yes.”

“Thought so.” He grabs my hand and swings me around so my body crashes against his hard chest. Then he eats me alive. I’m taken with purpose and conviction, and I don’t stop him. It’ll never make up for the sex we didn’t have this morning, but it might quench my thirst until later. “Have a nice day, baby.” I’m spun back around and my arse is slapped before I’m guided to the kitchen archway. “Make sure my wife eats her breakfast, Cathy.”

“I will, boy.” She waves a whisk over her head, but doesn’t turn around.

“I’ll see you later. And don’t forget to speak with Patrick.” He strides out without waiting for confirmation that I will, indeed, talk to Patrick. I know my time is up on that matter.

“Ava, you look so well!” Cathy sings at me from across the kitchen. “All glowing and fresh!”

“Thanks, Cathy.” I smile at her kindness. “Can I take my bagel with me? I’m running a little late.”

“Of course.” She starts wrapping it in cling film. “Did you have a nice time?”

 My smile broadens as I approach her to collect my breakfast. “We had a lovely time,” I say, because we did, despite the last horrific evening.

“I’m so glad. You both needed a break. Tell me, are the biscuits working?”

“Yes.”

“I knew they would. And twins!” She shoves my bagel in my bag and clasps my cheeks. “Do you realize how lucky you are?”

“I do,” I answer, actually meaning it. “I should get going.”

“Yes, yes, you go, dear. I’ll get started on the washing.”

I leave Cathy sorting whites and darks, and board the elevator after punching in the new code. I’m quickly delivered into the foyer of Lusso, where I find Casey sorting out the post. “Morning, Casey,” I greet as I bounce past.

“Mrs. Ward! You’re back.” He joins me as I head for the brightness of outside. “Did you have a nice time?”

“Casey, you don’t need to call me Mrs. Ward. We had a great time, thank you.” I slip my shades on and retrieve my keys from my bag. “How are you enjoying the new job?”

“More, now you’re back.”

I skid to a halt. “Pardon?”

He blushes terribly and starts fiddling with the envelopes in his grasp. “That came out wrong. Sorry. It’s just, well, did you know that you’re the only woman in the whole building?”

“Am I?”

“Yes. All these rich businessmen don’t say a word. They just grunt at me or make demands down the phone. You’re the only one who takes the time to speak. I appreciate it, that’s all.”

“Oh, okay.” I smile at his awkwardness. “You mean rich businessmen like my husband?”

He blushes further. “Okay, now I’m just digging myself a hole.” He laughs uncomfortably. “It’s just nice to see a cheerful face around here again.”

“Thank you.” I smile, and he returns it, his steel blue eyes twinkling. “I’d better be going.”

“Sure. I’ll catch you later.” He backs away before turning and strolling off casually, back to his desk. I need to get my backside in gear. It’s my first day back, and I’m going to be late. I need to be in Patrick’s good books today.

I don’t even falter in my steps when I emerge from Lusso and see John waiting for me. He doesn’t shrug apologetically like he usually would, either. I had fully expected this. “How are you, John?” It’s good to see him again. I’ve missed the big friendly guy.

“’S’all good, girl.”

I jump in and secure myself with the seatbelt, watching as John takes his seat beside me on a frown.

“You’re not going to kick up a stink today?” he asks, his voice plagued with laughter.

“I think I’d be signing my own death warrant if I did,” I answer dryly.

John laughs, shifting his big body in the seat before starting his Ranger Rover up. “I’m glad. I was under strict instructions to manhandle you with optimum care if you resisted.” He looks across at me through his black wraparounds. “I didn’t want to resort to that, girl.”

I grin at him. “So are you my assigned bodyguard now, then?” I know if there was anyone else Jesse would trust me to, it would be John.

“If it keeps that motherfucker happy, I’ll do whatever he wants.” John swings out of the car park. “Are you and the babies okay?” He keeps his eyes on the road.

“Yes, but now there are three of us for Jesse to get his knickers in a twist over.”

“Crazy motherfucker.” He laughs, revealing his gold tooth. “How are you feeling?”

“Do you mean being pregnant, or after the accident?” I keep my eyes on him, gauging his reaction. I want to know if there have been any developments since we’ve been away.

“Both, girl.”

“Fine, on both counts, thank you. Any news on Jesse’s car?” I sweep straight in. I’m comfortable enough with John to ask what I want.

“Nothing for you to worry about, girl,” he answers coolly. I might be comfortable enough to ask, but I need to remember that John is also comfortable enough to brush me off. “How was Paradise?” he asks in a blatant change-of-subject tactic.

“It was paradise,” I muse. “Until we bumped into Jesse’s parents.” I’m not sure if I should be divulging this, but I’ve said it now and judging by the look that’s just flashed across the ever-cool giant’s face, I’ve shocked him. I nod my head, confirming that he heard me right, and his shiny forehead wrinkles above his shades. “Amalie’s wedding got postponed because Jesse’s dad had a heart attack,” I continue. John must be aware of the wedding, the invite, and Jesse’s parents living near to Paradise. He’s been around forever, according to Jesse.

“Henry had a heart attack?” he asks, surprised. “And what went down?”

“What went down?”

“Yes, did they speak? How was Jesse?” John sounds really curious, which is pricking at my own curiosity.

I spill it all while he drives me to work and when I’m done, he nods his head thoughtfully.

“Was that it?” he asks.

“Yes, I got him away from her. He was so upset.”

“And afterward, he didn’t drink?”

“No.” I sigh. “But I have a feeling he would have, had I not been there.” I keep seeing his face, the face that resulted in binge drinking and whippings. “Did you know them?”

“Not really. I don’t ask questions.”

I’m nodding to myself. I know John has been around forever, and he was Carmichael’s best friend, so he must know more than he’s letting on. “How’s Sarah?”

He shifts and turns that menacing face to mine. “Better than she was.”

I wilt in my seat. I have nothing to say to that, so I shut up, unwrap my bagel, and let John drive me the rest of the way in silence.

I audibly sigh when John pulls up at the curb. “What’s up, girl?”

I gather my bag and exit the car before I can convince John to drive me to The Manor. “It’s time to advise my boss of a certain Danish client.”

“Oh,” he says slowly. “Good luck.”

I think I actually blow the sarcastic sod a raspberry. “Yeah, thanks, John,” I quip, slamming the door and hearing that deep baritone laugh getting quieter as the car door comes between us. I take a deep breath of confidence and stride into my office. Tom’s screech is the first thing I hear. “Oh my God! Ava!”

Then I hear Victoria. “Oh wow, you have a real tan!”

Then I see sparkling Sal, sparkling again. “Ava, you look so well.”

Then I clock my desk and stop dead in my tracks. Balloons…everywhere. With babies on them. There’s a pack of nappies on my desk, too, and a how-to guide on becoming a mother. But the worse thing of all, and I pick them up to check I’m seeing right, are the gigantic maternity jeans laying across the back of my chair, or covering my chair completely, more to the point. As if my morning wasn’t depressing enough, with my dress not fitting and the lack of a Jesse wake-up call, I’ve now been reminded that I’m going to look like a whale. He really has told everyone. I’m going to kill him.

“I knew it!” Tom scurries over to my desk. “I knew you were pregnant. But twins! Oh wow, this is so exciting! Will you name one after me?”

I discard the maternity wear and flop into my chair. I’ve been here two minutes and I’ve already had enough. Double babies means double excitement, as well as double weight gain and double anxiety. “No, Tom.”

He gasps dramatically. “What’s wrong with
Tom?
”

“Nothing.” I shrug. “I just won’t be naming any of my babies it.” He snorts his disgust and stomps off, without even wishing me congratulations.

“Congratulations, Ava.” Sally bends down and hugs me. I knew I could rely on Sal. “Coffee?”

“Please. Three sugars.” I return her hug, getting Sal’s great tits thrust in my face from my seated position. “How are you, Sal?”

“Amazing!” she gushes, dancing off to the kitchen. I quickly conclude that Sal’s love life must be back on track.

“Where’s Patrick?” I ask no one in particular because there’s no one standing at my baby-infested desk anymore. Tom is sulking across the office, obviously ignoring me, and Victoria is daydreaming, staring at me. “Hello.” I wave my hand at her.

“Oh, sorry! I was just wondering what shade you would call that.”

“What?”

“Your tan. I’d say deep bronze.” She scribbles something down, and I know it says
deep bronze
. “So, babies now?”

I take instant defense to her tone. “Yes.” My short, snappy answer pulls her head quickly from her writing pad and the long blond locks get flicked over her shoulder as she smiles. If it’s fake, then she’s doing a great job. “Congratulations, Ava.”

“Thank you.” I smile, doing a terrible job. “And thanks for all this.” I gesture to the balloons wafting around my head.

“Oh, that was Tom.” She returns to her computer.

“Thanks, Tom!” I throw a pencil across the office, catching him a treat on the side of his head, knocking his glasses off kilter. He gasps in shock. “Sorry!” I press my lips together to suppress my laugh.

“Workplace bullying!” he squawks, and I lose the battle to keep quiet. I start jerking in my chair as Sally places my coffee in front of me on a frown, and then turns to see what I’m laughing at. She starts chuckling, too.