I stand at the foot of the bed and watch his chest rise and fall as he breathes. His large body is rippled with muscles, and his skin is dark against the white sheets. His legs are spread, and one arm is raised and tucked under his head. His eyes are closed.

He has a scattering of dark hair across his chest and an eight-pack of stomach muscles. My eyes drop lower and my mouth goes dry.

He was never a small man, but holy hell. The word ‘Adonis’ comes to mind.

My stomach flutters and I swallow the lump in my throat.

I glance back at the door. I shouldn’t be in here ogling him without him knowing.

Shit. I drop down to sit on the bed, unsure of what I should do next.

My eyes drop to between his legs. Fuck, he’s beautiful.

He rustles, his eyes open, and he looks at me blankly for a moment before he gives me a slow, sexy smile. “Now, that’s a beautiful face to wake up to,” he whispers sleepily.

I stare at him, unsure what to say at being caught spying. Not that he seems to mind. He always was very sexually confident. It looks like nothing has changed.

“Good morning, angel,” he whispers.

I frown when he calls me ‘angel’. Does he remember that he used to call me that?

“Can you put some clothes on, please?” I whisper.

He smiles sleepily. “What’s wrong, baby? You don’t like me naked?”

I shake my head, unable to force the lie through my lips. He slowly strokes his dick as he wakes fully, and I have to tear my eyes away. “Ben,” I snap. “Stop it.”

He smirks, pulls the blankets over to cover himself, and then puts both hands behind his head as he lays on his back. His eyes have a boyish charm to them, and they glow cheekily.

“We’ve got a problem…” I murmur.

He raises his eyebrow and smirks harder.

“Not that.”

“Not what?”

“Your dick.”

He chuckles. “My dick is not a problem for me. Is it a problem for you?”

For God’s sake... too right it’s a problem for me. “Don’t be ridiculous,” I whisper, annoyed. “This isn’t a joke.”

“What isn’t a joke?”

“Eric looked into the TC case last night. He came home from work this morning, demanding that I stay away from you and telling me that he has evidence that you did it.”

He frowns. “And yet, here you are.”

My eyes hold his as I sit on the side of his bed. He smells good, like soap and man and sex on legs, all mixed into one hell of a cologne. “Ben, be serious,” I whisper. “This isn’t a joke.”

He nods, and pats the bed next to him. “Lie down and tell me everything he said, exactly.”

“Oh God, it was a disaster. He said he has evidence that you did it. Does he have any evidence, Ben? Did you do it?” I whisper.

“Of course, I didn’t; you know that.”

“He just seemed really convinced, and he said as soon as he knew who the other two fingerprints belonged to, he could make an arrest.” I sigh.

He shakes his head, and for the first time he seems interested.

I glance over at him. “This is really bad, Ben. I’m nervous about this.”

Ben goes up onto his elbow, and suddenly I am aware that I am lying on my back in his bed, and he is completely naked beneath the blankets. His eyes drop to my lips, as if having the same epiphany.

“I don’t want to talk about Eric right now,” he murmurs.

I feel the blood start to pump through my body as I look up at him. I get an image of his lips on mine, and I swallow the lump in my throat and look away.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said…” he continues.

I frown.

“Let’s try it,” he whispers.

I glance back at him. “Try what?”

“This friend thing.”

“You want to be friends now?” I ask, surprised.

“Well, I don’t want to fight with you.”

My eyes hold his, and for some stupid reason I feel a bit let down that he has given up on me so easily. “Did you go out last night?” I ask. I wonder if he and Cameron did their usual picking-up-women thing.

“Yeah, I did,” he whispers as the energy starts to swirl between us. He leans over, so he is right above me, and my heart starts to thump at his proximity.

“Did you have a fun night?” I breathe, distracted.

“It was okay, but it could have been a lot better.”

“Why is that?” I whisper.

His eyes drop to my lips and I have to physically clamp my legs together.

He’s so big and strong and leaning over me in a bed… Hell, this is the worst kind of torture.

“How could your night have been better?” I breathe.

Damn, I’m asking for trouble here, I just know it, but I can’t make myself stop.

His tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip. “Do you want the friend version or the true version?”

I watch his tongue slide across his lip, and my sex clenches.

I want the fuck version.

“Give me the friend version,” I whisper.

He smiles. “I was tired, and clubs aren’t really my scene anymore.”

His eyes drop down my torso and over my legs.

“And the true version?” I whisper. Why the hell am I playing this game with him?

He puts his hand onto my stomach and my breath catches. “The truth is I was thinking about you all night.”

Our eyes are locked.

“What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking about having you in this bed.” He slides his hand down lower, resting it on top of my sex before he pats it. “Naked and beneath me.”

The air leaves my lungs.

He leans over and I look up at him. Time seems to stop as his lips hover over mine.

Knock, knock!

The door bursts open and we jump back from each other.

Joshua is standing at the end of the bed.

“Fuck, Stanton,” Ben growls.

Joshua’s eyes widen in shock before he holds his hands up. “Sorry to interrupt. Bad timing.” He winces.

Ben shakes his head, annoyed. I sit up, embarrassed. God, I’m a skanky hoe. What the hell was I doing?

“We’ve got a problem,” Joshua says.

“You think?” Ben asks, preoccupied.

“Eric’s here.”

My eyes widen. “What? Here?” I jump off the bed. “Where?”

“Downstairs with another cop. They’re here to see you, Ben.”

I start to flap my arms around in a panic. “Oh, my God. He’ll have seen my car in front of the house, and he told me not to come near either of you.”

“He did what?” Joshua snaps. “He told you not to come near me?” He points to Ben. “You, I understand!” he snaps. “But, why can’t you come near me?”

“Why do you understand about me?” Ben growls in a whisper as he gets out of bed.

Joshua gestures to him. “You’re kind of naked in bed with Bridget. I wouldn’t be too happy if she were my girlfriend.”

“Before I was rudely interrupted…” He shakes his head at Joshua as he looks for some clothes to put on.

I put both my hands on my head as I begin to perspire.

“This is so bad,” I whisper. “And he was not kind of naked with me. We were just talking,” I whisper in a panic. “What does Eric want?”

Joshua holds his hands out sarcastically. “I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure you being in Ben’s bed isn’t high up on his list.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Ben growls as he pulls his jeans up. “We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, that’s what it looks like,” Joshua replies dryly

“Does he know I’m here?” I ask.

“I don’t know. If he saw your car, he didn’t say anything.”

“Just get back into bed, Bridget, and wait for me here,” Ben mutters as he throws on a T-shirt.

“You would just love that, wouldn’t you? Are you going to bring him up here to catch me out?” I whisper angrily.

Ben rolls his eyes.

“I’ll leave you two platonic conversationalists to bicker in peace.” Joshua smirks.

“Fuck off, Joshua. We’re just friends!” I snap.

“Okay.” He leaves the room. “Whatever you say,” he calls from the landing.

I pick up a T-shirt from Ben’s floor and whip him with it. “What are you going to say?”

“Fuck off, I’m busy.” He smirks.

My eyes widen. “You’re not going to tell him that I’m here, are you? Oh no, please don’t tell him.”

He narrows his eyes at me and puts his hands on his hips. “You’re starting to piss me off right now, Bridget.”

“I’m pissing you off? Well, you’re pissing me off!” I whisper angrily.

“How so?”

“Oh, just lying around, being all fucking sexy. I’m not falling for it, Ben.”

“I was in fucking bed, minding my own business,” he replies.

“And, of course, you had to be naked and pulling on your dick, didn’t you?” I whisper as I start to push him to the door. “Super convenient.”

He chuckles, and I start to hyperventilate. “Go down there and get rid of him, but don’t tell him I’m here,” I whisper.

“What if he wants to search my room?”

My eyes widen. “What?” I shriek. “Oh, my fucking God.”

“I’m joking.” He laughs.

“Oh, my God, Ben, this is serious. Can you be serious for a moment, please?”

He turns to face me, and this time he does fall serious. “Wait here for me… In my bed.” His voice is deep and commanding, and damn, I know if I wait here it’s go time when he gets back. With one last look, he exits the room and disappears downstairs. I close the door quietly behind him and begin to pace.

What now?

I sit on his bed for ten minutes as I wait for him to return, and I look around the room. I pick up his pillow and smell it.

Damn… he smells good. I inhale deeply again and then I see his suitcase in the walk-in wardrobe. I wonder what he’s got in there. I walk in and flick on the light, closing the door behind me.

Hmm, a toiletries bag. I feel like a criminal as my eyes flicker to the door as I slowly unzip the bag. Deodorant, toothpaste and toothbrush, cologne…

I take the lid off and inhale. Hmm, that’s the shit.

Condoms… fuck. A huge box of condoms. I read the packet.

I narrow my eyes. For fuck’s sake, he pisses me off. Why does he have to be so damn well-endowed? I notice the seal is still intact. He probably has a stash in his wallet. Actually, where is his wallet? I walk back out into the room and look around. I see his jeans on the floor in the bathroom from last night and walk over and search his pockets.

Bingo! Wallet found.

I open it up and my heart stops.

An image of me sits in the photo section. I stare at it for a moment as I try to remember where it was taken. Ah, that’s it. It’s in the hospital when my grandmother was dying. I’m sitting on a hospital chair and smiling up at him. I’m wearing a white dress and the photo was taken before we were together. I still remember the day he took it.

Why does he have this in his wallet?

I look in the compartment in the back and, sure enough, there’re three condoms. Fuck… I hate men.

I slide out his credit card and read it:

I slide out the next one and read the name.

I slide out the next one.

Who is Jake Martin, and why does he have his credit card? I slide the next card out.

Huh? Two credit cards from different banks in another name. Who is it? Is it him? Is Ben even his name?

“What are you doing?” Ben snaps from behind me. I jump, startled at being caught.

“Oh… Oh…” I stammer. “Who’s Jake Martin?”

He snatches the wallet from me. “I use the name Jake Martin when I work undercover.”

“When do you work undercover?” I frown.

“I’m a private investigator, Bridget.” He widens his eyes as if I’m stupid. “All the time. Will you stop snooping?” He walks back into the bedroom.

“Why do you have a photo of me in your wallet?” I blurt out.

He turns to face me. “I’m pretty sure you can work that one out for yourself, Einstein.” He sits on the bed and begins to put his shoes on, clearly annoyed at my detective work.

“What happened downstairs? Where… where are you going?” I stammer.

“I have to go down to the police station and give a statement.”

“What?” I put my hands on my head. “Oh, no.” I begin to pace. “Why do you have such a huge box of condoms?” I ask. God knows why I want him to answer that, but I do.

He stops what he’s doing and looks at me, deadpan. “I blow them up and make farm animals for children at parties. What do you think?”

I stare at him. “Smart ass.”

He ties his shoes angrily. “You shouldn’t be worried about who I sleep with, anyway. Your dipshit boyfriend is downstairs.” He sneers.

I frown. Oh, yeah. I had forgotten about him.

I wring my hands. “What’s going to happen at the police station?”

“Nothing. I give a statement and then I come home.”

“Will you ring me and tell me what happened?” I ask.

“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend what happens?” he snaps as he stands.

“I’m not talking to him. He pisses me off,” I whisper.

“Not as much as he pisses me off, I can assure you,” he snaps. He disappears out of the room and I begin to pace, my head in my hands. This is a real fucking disaster.

I wait for fifteen minutes and hide behind the drapes, watching from the window as Ben walks down the driveway with Joshua, Eric, and another policeman, and then I can’t see what happens out on the street. What car did they go in? Is Ben under arrest? Oh, my God, my poor heart can’t handle this.

Did Eric see my car?

The door opens and Natasha bursts in. “Oh, my fucking God! Joshua and Eric got into a fight downstairs.”

“What?” I shriek.

“Eric was being a dick and giving attitude about Joshua having money and Ben being his lacky, and then it got out of control. I thought Joshua was going to knock him out.”

I drop my head into my hands. “What was Ben doing?”

“Ben was being Ben. Not saying anything, clenching his jaw in anger.”

“For fuck’s sake. What if he charges him with her murder? Did Ben do this?” I ask, terrified of the answer.

“No, he didn’t.”

“Would Joshua tell you if he did?” I ask.

“Probably not.”

“What are we going to do?” I stammer.

Tash puts her arm around me and we sit on the bed. “I don’t know.” She sighs. “But I can’t say I’m a huge fan of Eric at this point.”

I close my eyes and blow out a breath. This is a complete nightmare.

It’s 4:00 p.m. and I haven’t heard from Ben all day. So much for calling me, and I can’t even ring him to see what happened in case he’s still at the police station. Natasha is at some stupid charity lunch, so I don’t even know if the boys are back at Natasha’s or not yet.

I think this is the most stressed out I have been in years, and I may have worn the carpet out with all my pacing.

The door buzzer goes off and I run to the screen to see who it is.

Eric. Fuck.

I push the button. “Come up.” I sigh.

I don’t want to see him. In fact, he’s the last person I want to see. He comes through the door and smiles when he sees me. “Hi, babe.”

“Hi.” I fold my arms. “Where have you been?”

“Working,” he replies as he throws his jacket over the back of the lounge.

“You worked last night, so why did you work today as well?”

“I had an important case.”

“Bullshit. You were chasing Ben out of spite for last night, weren’t you?”

His eyes hold mine. “He called you up telling tales, did he?”

I narrow my eyes. “No, he hasn’t, actually. I spoke to Natasha and she told me how rude you were to Joshua this morning.”

He lifts his chin defiantly. “Yeah, well, I don’t like him.”

“You don’t even know him,” I snap.

“I don’t want to, either. Rich boys don’t excite me.”

“Get out.”

“What?” He frowns.

“You heard me. Get out. I don’t want anything to do with you and your prejudice.”

“You’re sticking up for him?”

“Of course, I’m sticking up for him. He’s my family.”

“He’s covering up for a murderer, Bridget.”

“Bullshit. You have your nose out of joint because Ben made it known that he wants me back and, rather than deal with the threat like a normal person, you’re dealing with it like a fucking cop, searching for something that isn’t even there.”

“So, you think Ben is innocent?”

“I know he’s innocent,” I yell.

“I know he’s guilty, and I know that Joshua fucking Stanton is lying through his teeth.”

“That’s it. Get out!” I scream.

He looks at me for a moment with calculating eyes. “Did you have something to do with this? What do you know, Bridget?” he asks way too calmly.

I frown as fear slithers over me. “What? Don’t be absurd. You’ve gone fucking crazy.”

“I’m not leaving,” he states.

“Well, I want nothing to do with you.”

His face falls before he covers it up, and narrows his eyes in anger. “You’re breaking up with me over this? It’s my job, Bridget.”

I stare at him as a clusterfuck of emotions swirl through my head. “I don’t like the way you’re speaking about my family. I don’t like all these accusations and threats that I can’t go near them. This isn’t your job. This is payback and I won’t have it.”

He glares at me. “And I won’t stand in the way of justice.”

I roll my eyes and shake my head.

He grabs his jacket. “Call me and apologise when I prove that they did it.”

“Don’t hold your breath.” I sneer.

He walks out the door and I slam it behind him.

I blow out a deep breath and drop to the couch.

Great. What now?

It’s Wednesday and I walk from the subway, up the main street to my work. It’s 8:00 on a beautiful, sunny morning, and I’m early, but being at home alone isn’t the easiest thing to do right now. I would rather be at work than thinking on my own.

My thoughts aren’t making sense anymore.

I’ve broken up with my boyfriend, yet all I can think about is Ben and why hasn’t he called me to tell me what happened at the police station with Eric.

I know Ben’s not a talker, and I know communication doesn’t come easily to him, but he said he was going to call. I don’t want to call him because I feel like then he’ll know that I’m hanging on his every word. I don’t want to be that girl anymore. I don’t want to go back to relying on him, because the shitty reality is that I know that I can’t. I won’t go backwards, and trusting him would be doing exactly that. These last three days I’ve gone over and over Ben, our demise, how he just turned up here, and how suddenly I wanted to hear what he had to say. Well, I don’t want to know what he has to say anymore, and I don’t care what he has to say… so, I’m not calling him.

To make matters worse, Joshua isn’t saying much to Tash, other than it went well and there’s nothing to worry about. Abbie and Tash and I have been having crisis meetings all week over it. I’m beside myself. I walk up the three stone steps into the building. It’s four levels and we all take turns being on reception on the ground floor. I work at a large travel agency in the city and arrange corporate travel for large companies and business professionals. The job is fantastic, and my work friends are awesome, but my boss is a real bitch. I don’t know if she’s going through menopause or what, but holy hell, she’s giving us all grief. The staff are leaving like flies and, to be honest, I can see the end is near for me, too, which sucks because it’s a great job. The door is already open, and I make my way up to level one. My desk is near the window and overlooks the busy street below. I have a Madonna lily on my desk in a white marble pot, alongside a photo of my nephew and nieces in a silver frame. I unpack my lunch, turn on my computer, and I sit at my desk.

This is the last place I want to be.

It’s 11:00 a.m. and I am on hold to an airline as I try to secure a flight deal we have going, when Bethany from reception buzzes up.

“Bridget?”

I push the button. “Hi, Beth”

“Um…” She pauses. “Didge, you might want to come down here.”

“What’s up?” I sigh as I stay on the line.

“This holy hot guy just dropped something off for you.”

I frown. “Huh? Who?”

“I don’t know,” she whispers. “But he was built like a brick shithouse and had a cap on.”

“What?” I stand and peer out the window, down onto the street.

“Just get down here!” She hangs up.

I stare at the phone for a second. Screw waiting on hold. I’ll just call back in a moment.

I head downstairs and walk over to reception. “What’s going on?

She shrugs as she passes me a coffee and a brown paper bag. I open it and peer inside.

A chocolate éclair.

I smile.

Ben.

He used to buy me a chocolate éclair every day when Gran was in hospital, because he knew how much I loved them. “Where did he go?” I ask.

“He walked out the front and to the left.”

“Did he ask to see me?”

She shakes her head. “No. But please tell me you’re banging this guy.”

I run out the front and look to the left. The street is busy and bustling, and I crane my neck to see over the crowd.

Damn it.

I walk up the street a little and still can’t see him.

Shit.

I turn back to go back to work, and there he is, leaning up against the wall, wearing a white T-shirt, blue jeans, and black cap.

His eyes hold mine and I smile softly as I approach him. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He smiles.

My heart starts to hammer, and I swallow the lump in my throat. Why does he make me so nervous? “Did you bring me morning tea?”

He nods once. “I did.”

Our eyes are locked. “Why?”

“I thought you might be hungry.”