This Man (Page 151)

‘Calm the f**k down!’ he yells, grabbing my jaw and pulling it to the centre so I have to look at him. I slam my eyes shut, puffing and panting like an exhausted greyhound. I’m not going to let him manipulate me with sex. ‘Open your eyes, Ava.’

‘No!’ I sound so childish, but I know if I do, I’ll be swallowed up in lust.

‘Open!’ He shakes my jaw slightly.

‘No!’

‘Fine,’ he shouts, while I continue to struggle. ‘Listen to me, lady. You’re not going anywhere. I’ve told you repeatedly, so get f**king use to it!’ He shifts his body so he has a firmer grip of me. ‘I’m going to The Manor, and when I get back, we’re going to sit down to talk about us.’

I stop struggling. Talk about us? What? Like a proper discussion about what the hell is going on here because I’m desperate to know this.

‘Cards on the table, Ava. No more f**king about, no more drunken confessions and no more holding out on me. Do you understand?’ His breathing is heavy, his tone determined.

This is what I’ve wanted all along – clarity and understanding of our relationship. I’m so bloody confused. I need to know what all this is and then, maybe, I can work out whether I need to break away. And what’s this about drunken confessions and holding out?

I open my eyes to sludgy green gazing down at me. He relaxes his grip on my jaw. ‘Come with me, I need you with me.’ He’s almost pleading.

‘Why?’

‘I just do. Why won’t you come?’

I take a deep breath. ‘I don’t feel comfortable.’ There, that’s the truth. He should be able to figure out for himself why I don’t feel comfortable at The Manor. He can’t be that stupid.

‘Why don’t you feel comfortable?’

Okay. Maybe he is that stupid. ‘I just don’t.’ I snap.

His brow knits and he commences lip chomping. ‘Please, Ava.’

I shake my head. ‘I’m not coming.’

He sighs. ‘Promise me that you’ll be here when I get home then. We need to sort this shit out.’

‘I’ll be here.’ I assure him. I’m desperate to sort this shit out. I’m not going anywhere.

‘Thank you.’ he whispers, resting his forehead on mine and clenching his eyes shut. I feel immense hope blossoming inside me at his determination to sort this shit out. He lifts himself, without so much as kissing me, and leaves the room.

I stay on the bed, recovering from my pointless physical battle, wondering what’s going to be established from the laying of cards and sorting of shit. I’m torn between admitting to him how I feel, or waiting to hear what he has to say first. What will he say? So much needs clarifying. What is us? Intense hot affair or more? I need it to be more, but I can’t cope with his trampling and unreasonableness. It’s exhausting.

There was no denying the look of pure torment on his handsome face. What’s running through that complex mind of his? Why does he need me? So many questions…

I close my eyes, trying to re-establish some steady breaths, and find myself drifting into a semi-exhausted coma.

The phone next to the bed starts ringing, snapping my eyes open. Kate! I scramble up the bed and answer. ‘Send her up, Clive.’ I fling a t-shirt on and run down the stairs, throwing the door open as Kate exits the elevator. I’m so glad to see her, but why he thinks I need babysitting is beyond me. I run at her, flinging my arms around her desperately.

‘Whoa! Is someone happy to see me?’ She returns my violent hug, my face buried in her red locks. I didn’t realise how much I needed to see her. ‘Are you going to invite me into the tower, or are we staying put?’

I pull away. ‘Sorry,’ I blow my hair out of my face. ‘I’m a mess, Kate. And you’ve been letting men rummage through my things again.’ I add on a scowl.

‘Ava, he turned up at six in the morning, banging until Sam answered. I just let him do his thing, it’s not like anyone can stop him. The man’s a rhinoceros.’

‘He’s more than that.’

She looks at me all sorrowful, taking my hand and leading me back into the penthouse. ‘I can’t believe he lives here,’ she mutters, directing me into the kitchen. ‘Sit.’ She points to a stool.

I rest my backside on the seat, watching as Kate refreshes her memory of the impressive kitchen. ‘I can’t make you tea because he has no milk. The housekeeper is on holiday.’

‘He has a housekeeper,’ she says to herself. ‘Of course he does.’ She shakes her head and goes to the fridge, collecting two bottles of water, before coming to sit next to me. ‘What’s going on?’

‘What am I going to do, Kate?’ I rest my head in my hands. ‘I can’t believe he called you here, just so I don’t leave.’

‘Doesn’t that tell you something?’

‘Yes, that he’s a control freak! He’s so intense,’ I look up to Kate, who’s smiling faintly. What’s to smile about? I’m in turmoil here. ‘I don’t know where I am with him.’

‘Have you told him?’ she asks, with a perfectly plucked brow arched at me.

‘No, I can’t.’

‘Why?’ she blurts, totally surprised.

‘Kate, I don’t know what I am to him. He can be so gentle and loving, saying things I can’t get my head around, and the next minute, he’s brutally fierce, unreasonable and controlling. He tries to control me!’ I open my water, taking a swig to moisten my dry mouth. ‘He manipulates me with sex when I don’t jump at his command, tramples anyone, including me, if they get in the way of him. He’s bordering on impossible. No, he is impossible.’