Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
“To keep her away from Stephen fucking Jones,” Colin sneered, and it was obvious they’d both been talking about this distraction from this imaginary shit storm.
I wondered if that was why they’d really invited me over tonight. Not for the company, or for indulging me in one of my favourite shepherd’s pies, but to step my involvement in keeping Faith away from Stephen Jones up to a whole other level.
“You think I could help?” I asked, perfectly ready to cut the fluff and pomp and get down to the detail.
They looked at each other, and I could feel Erica looking at me.
“We were thinking maybe she could use her experience in the office, with the antiques world, to maybe organise a charity auction to help with the cat sanctuary.”
My heart started thumping at the thought. Of Faith being so involved with something so powerful and so structured.
“Of course, it would be out of office hours,” Diane added. “Not taking out of her work time, and we appreciate that she’d need your help, but it would be for a good cause, and we really think that–”
“I’ll do it,” I said, without so much as flinching. “I’ll happily invest time into helping Faith create and run a charity auction. I’m sure the cats will appreciate our efforts hugely, as will the kids who benefit from taking care of them.”
Erica’s eyes were still scorching, trying to weigh me up.
Diane and Colin gripped each other’s hands on the table top, clearly relieved to have some imaginary solution to keeping Faith busy and out of mischief.
Holy shit, how reality could be such a mirror image to the one set out in front of people. They were pushing her right into me. Us right into each other. All for the stupid illusion that they were protecting her from a guy she’d never wanted.
Still, at least the cats would do alright out of it.
In the strangest of cues, I felt my phone buzz in my inside pocket. I took it out as Colin poured another wine for all four of us, being careful to call up my message under the table and out of Erica’s stare.
It was just as well I did.
The message was from the pretty girl upstairs, complete with a photo.
A photo of her in bed in her bedroom. In a pink lacy nightdress, with the straps down low.
She looked absolutely fucking beautiful, and clearly fucking hungry for it.
Come up if you can, her message said, even if just for a minute.
I didn’t waste a fucking second, getting right to it.
I placed a hand on my belly, and let out a polite little belch, mocking up my imminent need for a trip away from the table.
“Please excuse me for a few minutes,” I said. “May I use your bathroom?”
“Be my guest,” Colin said, and laughed, clearly a few wines in. “You may want to use the upstairs one if you’re needing to hang out there a while.”
I laughed along with him. “I may well take you up on that,” I told him, and got to my feet.
Diane and Colin were oblivious to everything, chatting away quite happily while I headed from the room.
But Erica’s eyes followed me. Suspicious of something.
Turns out that it was just as well that even she thought more of me than a fucked up cunt who would fuck the Martins’ little girl.
Chapter Thirty-One
Faith
It was so bizarre waiting for Miles in my bedroom, just like I had so many times as a little girl. My heart was thumping, and I was tingling all over, still so damn frustrated I was barred from dinner downstairs with the man I loved.
I was so excited as the door handle turned. He was so quiet, creeping on in so slowly and closing that door right up behind him.
Hell, this felt so naughty with Mum and Dad downstairs. I’d never felt like such a bad girl as I did with Miles Lindon in my bedroom with those dirty eyes eating me up.
“We really shouldn’t be doing this,” he said, but he was straight on over, pacing super quickly across the room and dropping down onto my bed. My arms were up and at him, holding him so tight. Needing this.
I needed this so much.
“I’ve missed touching you,” I told him, and he squeezed me back so tight. “I’ve missed being able to see you.”
“I know,” he said. “I’ve missed this too.”
He sighed into my hair, then kissed me. My temple first, and then my cheek, peppering kisses to my mouth where his tongue claimed mine.
I wanted to say so much, but wanted to kiss him more. I wanted to smash all the communication bridges into oblivion and tell him that I loved him. That he was my everything. That I needed him so much it hurt.
I wanted to tell him that I didn’t want university. I wanted here. I wanted now. I wanted him.