Beneath This Man

We walk out onto Piccadilly into the lunchtime crowd, and I can feel the mild tension between us. He drops my hand and drapes an arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side.

When we turn into Berkeley Street, I stop and face him. ‘If I go out, I won’t be drinking, will I?’

‘No.’ he says flatly. I roll my eyes and carry on walking. ‘You can have a drink on Friday.’ He catches me up and replaces his arm over my shoulder.

Yes, I can have a drink on Friday because he’ll be there to watch over me. The problem is, I’m not comfortable drinking in front of him. It wouldn’t feel right, especially knowing his little issue with control and alcohol.

‘Would you get the doormen to spy on me too?’ I grumble.

‘I don’t ask them to spy on you, Ava. I ask them to watch over you.’

‘And call you if I don’t follow the rules?’ I quip, earning myself a little nudge on the hip.

‘No, and call me if you are rolling around on the bar floor,’ he says dryly, ‘with your non-existent dress around your waist.’

I look up at him and find accusing eyes. Okay, yes, I was on the bar floor, but I wasn’t rolling, and I wasn’t steaming drunk. Not that time, anyway. Kate was and she took me down with her, and as for the dress? Well, that’s a trivial issue, and one that’s now in a dozen strips after neurotic man here shredded the damn thing. I could go out, have a couple of glasses of wine, wear something acceptable and not roll around on the floor. Then, no red alert would need to be issued by the doorman. Maybe I could stay at Kate’s so I’m not rubbing his nose in it. I laugh to myself at my ambitious idea. He will never let me stay at Kate’s.

I let him hold me close to his side as we carry on our way to my office. ‘You’ve got to let me go now.’ I say as we near. Patrick might be there and I’ve not mentioned any sort of business lunch with Mr Ward. This is painfully difficult.

‘No,’ he grumbles.

‘What are you going to do for the rest of the day?’ This I really want to know. Please let him say that he’s got a stack of stuff to occupy himself with so I can get to Matt’s and get my stuff without worrying about fobbing him off and lying to him. Withheld information is not the same as lying.

He pouts. ‘Think about you.’

That doesn’t make me feel any better. ‘I’ll be back at yours as soon as I finish work.’ I say, realising instantly that I’ve just lied. I use every ounce of energy to stop myself reaching for my hair.

‘Ours!’ he corrects. ‘What time?’

‘Six-ish.’ Give or take an hour, I add to myself.

‘You like that tag on, don’t you? Ish…’ He narrows his eyes on me, and I feel scrutinised. He can’t possibly know my plans. Only Kate knows.

‘ish.’ I counter, leaning on him for a kiss.

He grabs me and leans me back over his arm in a ridiculous theatrical performance before kissing the life out of me in the middle of Berkeley Square. People sidestep us and tut as they pass, but I couldn’t give a toss.

‘God, I f**king love, love, love you.’ he says against my lips.

I grin. ‘I know you do.’

He pulls me back up to a vertical position and then buries his face in my neck to chew my ear. ‘I can’t get enough of you. Let me take you home.’

I know he can’t, he’s pretty open on that fact, and I’m so tempted to jump work and let him. I’ve not got a massive amount to see to, nothing that can’t wait, and I’m loving his mood – demands aside.

My phone starts singing, snapping me from my rebellious brainwave, and I fish around in my bag while letting Jesse stick to my neck. When I lay my hands on it, I hold it above Jesse’s head to see who it is. I groan. Of all the times Mikael could call, he calls now?

Jesse must detect my uneasiness because he instantly pulls back and looks at me with an enquiring eye. ‘Who is it?’

‘Oh, just a client.’ I shove my phone in my bag. I’ll call him back. ‘I’ll see you at your place.’ I go to walk away, but he grasps my wrist.

‘Damn it, Ava. OURS! Who was it?’ His sudden change of temper catches me off guard.

‘It’s Mikael,’ I grate. ‘Just a client.’ I add, to reinforce Mikael’s status in my life. This might be one side of Jesse that I cannot cure; his insane jealousy and possessiveness. I yank my wrist free from him and start the short remaining distance to my office, leaving Jesse on the pavement. And he called me the green eyed monster?

My phone starts ringing again, and I retrieve it as I enter the office. ‘Mikael,’ I greet.

‘Ava, I’m calling to confirm our Monday appointment.’ His soft voice seeps into my ears. Jesse might see him as a threat, but he’s not, although his voice is really quite sexy. ‘Would midday suit?’ he asks.

I collapse in my chair and swivel to face my desk, horrified to find Jesse stood over me, prowling like a raging beast, his chest heaving. He looks incensed. I scan the office and see Tom and Victoria sat at their desks watching intently, making no attempt to hide their interest. Then I glance over my shoulder to find Patrick in his office, but, thank God, he’s oblivious, looking completely wrapped up in something on his computer screen.

‘Ava?’

With the impending drama unfolding before my eyes, I forgot that I’m in the middle of a business call. ‘Mikael, I’m sorry,’ I look up at Jesse questioningly, but he ignores me, continuing with his menacing performance with no regard for our location or spectators. ‘Yes, fine.’ I try and sound professional and assertive. I fail miserably. I sound edgy and nervous.