Ten minutes after leaving the office, Benjamin pulled up outside a large Victorian house that had been converted into flats. Nerves jittered through his stomach, and his heart thundered, but he knew they would be settled soon. The thought gave him a tingle of excitement, knowing how close he was to scoring.

The road the property was on sloped down, giving a great view of the mercury ribbon of the distant Thames from where he stood. He pressed impatiently on the flat’s bell to be let in, trying to hide his watch, in case anyone dodgy happened past, looking for someone to mug. He had remembered to lock his car, hadn’t he? He turned and pressed the key fob, in case. The lights flashed twice, confirming he had, indeed, already locked the vehicle.

‘Hello?’ came a voice. Female. Young. Wary.

‘It’s me.’

The secure entry door buzzed, and Benjamin pushed it open and launched himself up the stairs in one swift move. He couldn’t wait much longer to get his hands on what he needed.

When he reached flat four, the door was already open, a blonde woman waiting for him. Pale-skinned, large-eyed, she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him.

‘You know why I’m here,’ he growled.

As she stepped towards him, he grabbed her face between both hands and kissed her. Backed her up against the door jamb, pressing his body hard against her as his tongue thrust into her mouth. Already he was stirring, hips starting to grind. They tumbled through the door, breathless, never parting and slammed the door shut.

---

Kendra curled up in the warmth left by Ben’s body. Pulled the duvet a little tighter around herself and buried her nose into it to breathe in his scent, as if he were still with her. Turned a pillow sideways. Flung an arm and leg over it, trying to pretend it was Ben she snuggled.

She wasn’t fooled.

When was he going to leave his wife for her?

They had been together for four years now. During that time all of her friends had got engaged or married, some were even pregnant, as the milestone age of thirty approached. Not Kendra. She had waited for Ben, too in love to break it off with him.

It had been an instant attraction when they met at an awards bash. Ben had been awarded Entrepreneur of the Year by the local paper. She had got chatting to him when she found herself standing beside him at the bar.

‘Congratulations,’ she had smiled. ‘Show us your trophy.’

He handed it to her and… she broke it.

‘Eek. The top’s come off the base; I’m so sorry,’ she gabbled, giving it back to him, the clear plastic ‘scroll’ separated from the black plastic base.

‘That’s okay. But can I have your number? – I might want to get in touch about compensation,’ he smiled, eyes twinkling cheekily.

They had spent the rest of the evening flirting and exchanging banter. He was older than she, but that hadn’t put her off one bit. The way he instantly caught the attention of the bar staff to get served, unlike her as she waved a tenner ineffectually in the air as they swept past her to someone else. The way his suit clung to his powerful build. The air of certainty he had as he spoke. He was a powerful, sexy, successful man – and he knew it. Not in a cocky way, but it screamed from every confident gesture and look. When he leaned on the bar and his jacket fell open, revealing a designer logo, she had known her instincts were correct. This was a man out of her league, a man of the world, far different from anyone she had ever met before.

When they had decided to share a cab to the tube station, both had known it wouldn’t be the train they would be riding that night.

The sex had been explosive. Ben was fit for a man in his forties. She should have been suspicious, of course, when he made regretful excuses about not being able to spend the night. Something about having to get up early for work the next day.

‘Besides, I need to go so I can contact my lawyer about that compensation claim against you,’ he joked, giving her a lingering kiss.

It had been the first of many excuses. By the time he had told her the truth, that he was married, she was too much in love to walk away.

Sometimes she considered it, though. At moments like this, when she was left alone after they had made love, she felt so empty and rejected. Just when she should have felt closest to him, they were at their most distant. The emotional hurt so complete that it created a permanent physical pain in her solar plexus.

She ached with longing for the man who knew her inside out, who understood her and listened to her. But the last few months Ben had grown so distant, closing her off.

She was losing him. At the thought, she curled in on herself more tightly, trying to protect herself from the truth, the pillow a shield as much as a comfort. She had tried everything, everything to keep Ben interested.

There had to be something more she could do. But what?

She thought of what desperation had driven her to previously and guilt churned her stomach until bile burned her oesophagus.

But no. Why the hell should she feel guilty? She wasn’t the one clinging to a dead relationship, sticking it out in a loveless marriage because she was blind to the truth. She was in love. No one should ever feel bad about that. All’s fair in love and war, her old gran had always told her.

In which case, perhaps she should declare war. She sat up at the thought, the pillow dropping from her grasp.

Yes, it was time to step things up. This would be the last Christmas she spent alone, the last time she saw in New Year’s Eve watching Jools Holland’s sodding Hootenanny and crying into a glass of Prosecco, then pretending to be fine when she got a quick call from Ben from the toilets of some restaurant or other where he was with his wife. No more trying not to sound as though her nose was thick with tears; instead she would be kissing the New Year in with her man.

Spurred by the thought, she jumped from bed and quickly got dressed. Before she could change her mind, she was out the door.