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Never A Choice: A Choices Trilogy Novel (The Choices Trilogy Book 1) by Dee Palmer (16)

MY PHONE BUZZES in my pocket as I’m heading downstairs for my shift.

MY CAR WILL BE WAITING FOR YOU AFTER YOUR SHIFT TONIGHT. D

I have heard nothing from him all day, and I’ve been unsettled since our conversation at the bar. I can feel my defenses going up, and I kick myself that I had started to let them down, that he made me feel safe. I make myself safe.

AND HELLO TO YOU TOO b

Nothing.

I am just wrapping my apron when Sofia rushes through the door in a panic.

“Oh, God, Bets, you have to help me! My manager has called in sick, I’m not supposed to be working tonight, but they have a Charity Drinks and Canapé reception at the club, and now I have to be hostess. I need another me!” She has her hands pressed together in prayer, but it really isn’t me she needs to pray to, and I tilt my head toward Joe to indicate as such.

“Uncle Joe.” She wraps him in a big hug, “I’m taking Bets. I’ll make it up to you, I promise!” She finishes her request with a hard kiss on his cheek, and he laughs.

“Oh, yeah, how you gonna do that, Princess?” He holds her until she actually has something to offer in exchange.

“Oh, oh… I know, babysitting, I’ll babysit your brats!” She barters.

“I’d pay to see that, Princess.” He can’t contain his laughter now. “You go, but I’ll call in that favour one day, Princess, I don’t care who your daddy is!” He calls after her, but she has my hand and is dragging me out the door into the waiting taxi.

I have changed at Sofia’s club into a smarter server’s uniform, fitted white shirt, mid-length black skirt, and black leather pumps. Sofia is flapping about with last minute adjustments to the room, and I am calmly pouring the pink champagne. “Sofs, calm down. You’ve done this a million times before.” My tone is soothing, trying to calm my hyper- anxious best friend.

“I know, I know, but this is for the boss’s wife. It’s her charity thing, and there are lots of really important people here tonight. It’s a who’s who of corporate entertainment. I would’ve been more prepared if it was my show, and I hate being dropped in it last minute. It just feels like a huge test or something.” She sucks in a sharp breath. “Now, I want you to start with handing the champagne out and then walk through with the canapés and then…”

I place my hand on her flapping arm. “Sofia, breathe. I know what to do, I can manage a tray of drinks and food. You just go and be a hostess. I’ll sort the others, and we will be fine. Go.” I gently usher her to the entrance and carry on filling the champagne glasses. The private dining room at Sofia’s club is set up tonight for a standing reception for about fifty. The room is nearly full of beautiful people, beautifully dressed, elegant gowns and black ties. Most people have drinks, but I collect a tray of fresh champagne to make another walk through, I only take two steps into the room, when I freeze. I don’t know how I still manage to hold the tray, but I can’t help my hands from shaking and the glasses from singing their disapproval.

“Good lord, how difficult is it to hold a tray steady?” A woman exclaims, laughing loudly. She doesn’t turn, but her comment is enough to draw attention to me. I really don’t see anyone else. He is looking directly at me, and although I can see his hand on the small of her back, which he retracts, it’s not him I’m looking at. It’s her. It’s my sister, Kit.

I don’t know where my strength came from, but I hold the tray firmly, like my life depends on it, with white knuckles and sweaty fingers. I hold it steady and hold my eyes steady too. I fix a brilliant smile and feel my mask fall into place. Once my tray is empty, I slip out of the room, my steps falling faster the further I move away toward the staff room. I feel his tight grip on my elbow, and he spins me to face him. His face is cold, and his eyes are dark. I hope my mask holds up as I meet his look.

“Daniel, you’re looking very dashing, quite the gentleman.” I smile too brightly. This is really hard.

“Bethany this is…” He looks angry, whether he is angry at me or angry at being caught, now is as good a time as any to break my own heart.

“-None of my business,” I interrupt, “but bringing more canapés is. I’m seeing you later, right? We’ll talk about it then?” I hope this will end this now, if he thinks we’ll sort it later. He releases my arm with a frown.

“It’s not what it looks like.” He steps toward me and I back away. I can’t be close, I can’t hold this together when he’s close. “Bethany?” He reaches for me, and I back away some more. He looks devastated, but it doesn’t come close to my pain right now.

“Daniel, it’s fine. We’ll talk later?” This awful empty swell churns in my stomach, gathering momentum, and threatening my fragile act.

“Damn it, it’s not fine! “ He grabs me by my arms, and I start to shake. I feel his heat rush through me, and I can feel my eyes start to water. I can’t breathe.

“Right, okay, it’s not, but we’ll talk about it later, or maybe we should both go back in there and you can introduce me as your girlfriend?” I snatch my arms back and glare. I’m speaking through gritted teeth to keep the volume down. Conscious that this is Sofia’s debut as hostess, I’m not going to let Daniel or me fuck that up.

“No.” He quietly confirms and my heart plummets.

“No. Quite, so how about you let me do my job, and we’ll talk about it later?” He lets me turn, just as I hear Kit’s voice calling him. I think I’m going to vomit. I manage, I don’t know how, to sweep the room once more with a tray of canapés. I can feel his eyes on me, feel the tension, but I don’t risk making eye contact. Sofia waves me over.

“Take a break, Bets, I’ll be there in two minutes.” I couldn’t be more relieved to sit in a sweaty cramped staff locker room.

“What a complete arse-wipe! Bets, I’m so sorry. God I’m so sorry.” She opens her arms and steps toward me.

“Don’t you dare cuddle me, Miss!” I hold up my hand to stop her advance. “Not if you want me to go back out there, because I am not going out there with red swollen eyes.” I try and smile, but it catches and doesn’t quite make it. “You know it isn’t that.” I let out a shaky sigh. “I’m really not surprised--more surprised he wanted me to start with. Kind of let that go to my head. No it’s just…did you see who he was with?” Sofia’s sympathetic face is not helping.

“Yes, some blonde bimbo with false tits, fake tan, dripping in diamonds, shoe horned into a Harvey Leger bandage dress. Gross!” Her lips curl with distaste.

I snicker. “True, but did you see her face?”

“Botox, probably.” She sneers this time.

“I’m sure, have a look next time you go in there.” I’m wringing my fingers as I try and sort through the mess in my head. Sofia doesn’t really do shaken, but she does look furious when she returns.

“What the fuck is she doing here? I didn’t recognise her at first, I mean she’s blonde now, and those boobs, and what happened to all the tattoos?” I’m shaking my head, because I have no idea how to answer. I honestly haven’t seen her in four years. “Did she see you?”

“I don’t know.” I shake my head lightly.

“Does she live around here? I’ve never seen her at the club before. Not that I can be sure, if you hadn’t told me to look again I wouldn’t have known.” She frowns trying to make sense of this but I’m clueless. “What’s she doing here with Daniel?”

“I don’t know.” I whisper.

“God! You don’t think?” My eyes flash to hers and she stops before she finishes that horrendous thought.

“Sofs, do you need me to finish up here?” She must see the cracks in my mask because she already has my coat in her hand. “I need to stay somewhere tonight, somewhere he can’t find me?”

“Go to Paul’s. I’ll text him. His building has shit hot security; no one gets in without a rectal exam and a DNA test!” She snorts and already has her phone in her hand.

“Or if they’re approved, I hope?” I give her a hug and a kiss, take my bag, and slip away down the stairs.

Paul looks like he is walking on eggshells, Sofia must have told him to ‘handle me with caution’. I have had a steaming hot shower, and he’s lent me some sweats and a t-shirt, which swamp me but are better than what I was wearing. I am snuggled on his sofa with a warm brandy and sugar. I have had to argue to sleep on the sofa. Paul’s apartment is flash, but it is a one bedroom, and it was only when I said I would take my chances on the street that he got me a pillow and blanket.

My phone has been buzzing with unanswered messages since midnight, and I am just about to switch it off when I get one from Sofia.

HE’S JUST LEFT HERE, I DIDN’T TELL HIM WHERE YOU WERE BUT HE ANSWERED HIS PHONE AND SAID THAT HE’D FOUND YOU- JUST THOUGHT I SHOULD WARN YOU XXSX

 

CRAP! THANKS, JUST HOPE YOU WERE RIGHT ABOUT SECURITY XXBX

Thirty minutes later, Paul’s entry phone starts to buzz. Paul was already woken by Sofia and goes to answer it. I pull my legs up and wrap the blanket tightly around myself. I feel suddenly very cold.

“No, he isn’t approved, and I don’t care who he is. If he insists, please feel free to call the police and have him arrested for trespassing.” Paul slams the phone down and comes over to me. I feel awful for putting him in the middle of this.

“Hey, honey.” He wraps his big arms around me. “He can’t throw his weight around here. You’ll see him when you want to, and if you want to.” He plants a kiss on my head and returns to his bed.

My phone buzzes.

I KNOW YOU’RE THERE PICK UP THE PHONE BETHANY! YOU SAID WE’D TALK. IT’S THE ONLY REASON I LET YOU GO; YOU SAID WE’D TALK, YOU LIED.

I don’t have the energy to retort, ‘So did you’, ‘You’re an arse-wipe’ or ‘Why?’ God I want to know why. Why her? How long have they been together? I heard her talking about the evening they had planned and tomorrow being such fun. They were even staying at the Savoy. I notice my hands are wet when I touch my cheeks, and I feel the layers of tears that have coated my face. I wipe roughly, Fuck! It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter why he wanted me, it doesn’t matter that he wants her, all that matters is the net result, which is always the fucking same; everybody leaves. The pain in my chest hurts like a bitch as I try to fall asleep, but I am not going to cry anymore.

I wake early and find some of Sofia’s clothes to wear. I can’t go back to my place yet. She has some jeans and a sweater, and I thank heavens we’re the same shoe size. I buzz down to security to check if I can get out. They can let me out but the car from last night is still parked out front. If I come down the stairs and wait in the security guard’s office for a delivery, I can use that to get out, unseen. I leave a note for Paul and make my way down to wait in the office.

I spend the day with my mum. She is looking pale and has no recollection of who I am or that I visited last week. I feel numb. I switched my phone off, since it kept buzzing. I might just change my number. I spoke to the manager of the home and have arranged to sleep on one of the day-beds tonight. I just don’t want to go home yet. I decide to take a walk along the beach before lock-down. It’s dark and cold, and the large pebbles are damp against my jeans. There is something really eerie about the sound of crashing waves when visibility is so low and I shiver, but not just with the cold. I switch my phone back on to call Sofia to let her know I’m not back tonight.

“Hey, sister, I’m staying at my mum’s tonight, and I’ll go straight to Uni in the morning, so will see you tomorrow evening, if that’s okay? Oh, and thank Paul for being a super hero last night.”

“Oh he loves it! Bets, are you okay? Can you even stay at your mum’s?” She sounds so worried.

“Yes, and yes. It’s not a normal thing, but they can accommodate, sometimes. Besides I can be quite persuasive myself.”

“He came over today, Bets. He looked like shit. I think maybe you should hear him out.” Her words may be softly spoken, but they feel too harsh to hear.

“Traitor!” I say without conviction. “Look, I will at some point, but not now. It really isn’t going to change anything, I promised Marco a ‘no-more’ and I’m definitely there with Daniel. Love you, sister.” My teeth are chattering as I sign off.

“Bets, where are you? You sound strange?” Her voice is tinged with concern.

“On the beach, just heading back.” The noise of the pebbles breaks the silence as I shift to leave.

“Christ, Bets, it’s got to be minus five out there with the wind. Get your arse back inside!” She orders.

“On my way.” I have no energy to argue, I have no anything.

I am awakened by the night porter trying to placate an irate man at the main gate, when realization hits me that I recognize the irate man at the gate.

“I’m sorry, sir, there is no one here by that name.” The porter insists calmly.

“I know there is no one by that name as a resident. I am telling you that you have Bethany Thorne staying there tonight, and I have come to collect her.” His anger is barely contained to a level of moderate civility.

“Well, that would be highly unlikely, Sir, but even if that was the case, I couldn’t let you in until the morning. We have a number of vulnerable patients here, and I can’t risk upsetting them. I am very sorry, Sir, but those are the rules.” His voice is firm but fair.

“I won’t be upsetting anyone. I will just pick her up and take her home. Surely you are not insured for non-residents to stay on the premises?” Daniel obviously trying an alternative route, I look with panic at the porter, an old man with kind eyes.

“Hmm.” He laughs “No, I’m sure we aren’t. Why don’t you raise that with the manager in the morning when I let you in? Good evening, Sir.” He disconnects and winks at me, and I mouth a big thank you. I walk back to the day room where they had put up a camp bed for me when my phone rings, my other phone. I sigh. I couldn’t be less in the mood for this.

“Sir.”

“Lola.” he sounds agitated but I wait for him to speak to try and gauge how this conversation is to go. “How have you been?”

“Good, Sir, thank you for asking.”

“Really? I thought we had resolved the lying issue early on in our relationship, Lola. Why do you decide to lie now?”

“Sir, I…” I hesitate and sigh. If he really wants to know, what could it hurt? He’ll soon tell me to stop talking, if it’s not what he wants to hear. “I haven’t been so good, Sir, but I didn’t think it was right to tell you.”

“If I ask you something, Lola, I want to know the truth, that’s all, no lies. So tell me, have you been bad?”

“No Sir, not bad, just stupid.”

“Stupid how?”

“Well, stupid or naïve, either fits… I mistook lust for something else.”

“You are stupid for thinking that someone loves you when it is just lust, is that what you are saying?”

“No.” I laugh. “I know its lust on his part, but I was stupid.” Christ, my voice is breaking. “I was stupid because I fell in love with him when I should’ve known it was just lust; it was only ever going to be lust.”

“Did you tell him you loved him?”

“No, Sir, no, I didn’t, and I am really glad I didn’t. But it doesn’t stop me from feeling. It just means my humiliation is contained.”

“-And you can’t tell this person this?”

“Oh, yes, that would be perfect! I could perhaps cut my heart out as an offering, a side dish if you will.”

“Sarcasm is not very polite, is it, Lola?” His stern reprimand stops my inappropriate tirade.

“No, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.” I feel bad for dumping on this stranger. “To answer your question, no, I won’t be telling this person, ever. It’s about self-preservation now, Sir.”

“That is very sad, Lola.”

“No, Sir… it’s not sad. It’s heartbreaking.” I disconnect the call. I’ve never done that before, and I am glad he didn’t call back. He’ll probably cancel his booking now. There is no way he was expecting that when he selected the specialist line.

I wake at four in the morning to cut across the garden and leave the property without using the main gate. I need to get to the station at five to get the milk train back to London. I have back-to-back lectures today, the second of which is in one of the large lecture theatres. Some core units are shared over different courses, and my second lecture is one of those: Finance. The room is stuffy, and I feel slightly hot, sticky, and a sheen of perspiration is coating my body. My hands are shaking, and I realize I haven’t had anything to eat today as my tummy rumbles in disapproval. I am rummaging in my bag for something edible when the Lecturer begins by explaining that today’s topic of ‘Small Business Financing’ is going to be taken by a guest speaker. I get a watery taste in the back of my mouth, and I breathe through my nose; I think I’m going to vomit. I swallow a dry heave, thankful now that I haven’t eaten anything.

Daniel walks in, he doesn’t look at the audience, and I sink into my seat. I am too far from the door to escape, and I just hope he doesn’t call me out to the front like last time. He doesn’t. It’s worse. He loads his presentation and begins.

“The best way to get an understanding of small business finance,” His voice is smooth and deep, and I can’t help the effect his being there has on me as my heartbeat races and a flush of prickles kiss my skin. “is to work through a case study of a small business. So in light of this, I have made up a company, and we will go through each key stage step by step.” He pauses and turns to face the audience, but his dark hard eyes are on me. He clicks the laptop in front of him and the case study fills the ten foot high screen behind him: “Lola’s Call Center.” The corners of his mouth crease, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. I feel the blood drain from my face, but it’s also rushing in my ears. Large black spots float across my eyes, and I know I’m going to faint and/or have a panic attack. He knows, of course he knows. He’s my caller, but why tell me… why tell me now? I start to blow breaths through my pursed lips in a controlled manner as I pack my bag. I start to shuffle my way across the aisle, but when I get to the floor of the theatre Daniel addresses me.

“Did I say you could leave, Miss Thorne?” His voice cold and angry.

“No, Sir, you didn’t.” I walk to the door and leave, just making it to the corridor when I hear a muffled sound in my ears, and I see dizzying lights above me as I hit the deck. I am being jostled and jiggled. My eyes are still closed, I can smell citrus and exotic spice. My face is pressed against soft cotton, and I’m being held tightly. I push my face against the firm chest and nestle, inhaling deeply and feeling a warm rush of familiarity. That familiarity also makes me jump, but I’m held tighter with a growl.

“Don’t you dare fucking move, I’ve got you now. There is no fucking way you’re going anywhere. I’ve got you.” I relax into his stride and his warmth.

“I want to go home,” I whisper.

“All right, I’ll take you home, but then we talk.” He changes his mind then, “After I’ve fed you, then we’ll talk.” He grumbles.

I’m sitting on my sofa with a large bowl of spinach and ricotta ravioli that Daniel has brought upstairs, along with some fresh bread and some milk. My tummy continues to rumble even after I have eaten half of the bowl.

“When did you last eat, Bethany?” His voice is low, quiet and I have to think. “The fact that you are having to think about the answer pisses me off. Look at you. You need to take better care of yourself. What if you’d fainted in the street? What if-”

“-Saturday.” I interrupt. “I ate on Saturday, and to be fair this isn’t my ‘normal’ type of weekend. So I think I can be cut a little slack in the caring for myself department.” I snarl back at him. “Daniel, I’m grateful that you brought me home, but let’s not get all ‘overprotective’ when it’s…” I stop because I want to add ‘your fault I’m like this in the first place’, and I don’t want to do that. It’s not fair to make him feel bad when I am going to end this tonight.

“You didn’t let me explain.” His eyes hold a wealth of concern, and his voice is so quiet.

“No, because it really doesn’t matter.” I soften and touch his leg, his muscles flex, so do mine. “But it’s important to you, so I’ll listen, but you have to listen to me, too.”

“I did listen to you.” His eyes are molten heat, and I sit a little further back, but he just closes this distance and holds my stare. “The obligation I had was for my mother’s friend’s chosen charity. I was bid on at the ‘Bachelor’s Auction’. I had to attend the drinks reception with the winning bidder and spend Sunday sight-seeing in London. I couldn’t get out of it and I couldn’t embarrass Kassandra by introducing you at the reception, which”--he takes my hand, sending sparks to my core--“I desperately wanted to do. You were so calm, but I knew you weren’t okay with it, but I thought you were okay enough to wait and talk later. If I had known for a second that was not the case, I would not have left your side. You have no idea what fucking hell it’s been, knowing where you are, but not being able to get to you.” He grabs my face with both hands, his eyes intense with desire. “Don’t you ever fucking do that again.” He captures my mouth with his soft but firm lips, and I gasp, my parted lips an invitation he accepts willingly, plunging his hot tongue in, searching and tasting. I desperately engage with this demanding dance, my breathing laboured my heart racing. I push his hard chest, my fingers brush the curve of his muscles, his breathing heavy, too. He moves back.

“I love you, Bethany.” He moves to capture me again but I stand up in shock.

“Fuck, no!” I yell and try and back away. He stands too, towering over me. “I can’t let you, Daniel. There’s no way, I said no-more.” I have my hands pressed flat against his hard stomach, trying to hold him back, “I won’t survive you, Daniel.” I’m trembling and my voice is cracking. I try and regain some composure with some steadying breaths, “I won’t survive you.” I look up into his eyes, I’m pleading, and he forges on and scoops me in to his arms and strides to my bedroom.

“I won’t survive you either, Bethany. I love you, and I know you think this is lust. Unfortunately, it’s been three days since I’ve been inside you, so now it feels a lot like lust, but after we’ve made love, and I can think straight, I will tell you again, that I love you and you will tell me that you will never leave me. Oh, and that you love me, too.” He flashes the most amazing smile before he roughly takes possession of my mouth and my body. He moves with purpose and a hungry intensity that has me breathless. He peels my clothes from my body, slowly covering the newly exposed nakedness with adoring kisses. His hands constantly caressing and stroking, my skin burns from his touch and rages inside. His body covers mine, pinning me to the bed, securing my wrists by my head, he pulls back to meet my eyes, lust and hunger, and something more. He pushes my legs wide with his weight, his hard erection pushing, nudging, keen to gain access. His mouth covers mine, and he moans into my mouth as he pushes deep inside. My sex greedily contracts around his cock, pulling him in deeper with a tilt of my hips. He moves slowly, rotating his hips trying to gain more access, to get deeper. I gasp out loud as he hits the end of my womb with such sweet agony, he swallows my pain, his eyes scorch through me, and I start to tremble.

“Sshhh, baby, I’ve got you.” He holds himself deep inside me, not moving, his deep breathing vibrating through me. This is raw. Need and desire make my chest heave with the depth of emotion I feel for him. My eyes fight to hold on to my tears. “Bethany, you are everything.” It’s enough, and it’s too much. He moves just a fraction deeper, and it sends me falling, fighting to breathe, flooded with immense waves of pleasure, spasms of uncontrollable bliss. I hang on to his broad shoulders, gripping tight with my nails and my head buried in his neck, tears finally falling. I’m such a mess. He holds me for the longest time, not moving, still rock hard. My body stops shaking, and as I refocus on the most beautiful eyes staring down at me, I am rewarded with the sexiest smile and most sensual kiss. I start to move my hips, thinking he must need some relief, if my climax was anything to go by. “Don’t move, baby, I want to come, just like this, buried deep with you tight around me; my perfect fit.” I gasp as he nudges deeper.

“Not sure you fit as well as you think.” I explain with a cautious tone.

“Maybe not, but it’s still perfect.” He kisses me. He is hungry, devouring everything I return, swirling and plunging, fucking my mouth with his tongue, all the movement he is denying himself inside me. He holds me tight against him, and I moan at the passion of his kiss. I am full and stretched and I can feel him pulse deep inside, the smallest movement is enough to start another orgasm to build. “Look at me, I want to see your eyes when we come together. Do you feel that?”

“God, yes, you’re so… so deep, ahh!” I’m panting because I don’t want to move and break this amazing tension, balanced on an edge of unbelievable pleasure. I look into his eyes, and I feel him, all of him, and I love him. “I love you.”

“Fuck!” He never breaks his scorching eye contact when he comes; when I come.

He wraps me in my duvet and holds me tight into his chest, kissing and stroking my hair. Some time passes when Daniel whispers. “It doesn’t count, you know.”

“What doesn’t count?” I am tracing my fingers along the cut of his abdominal muscles, the ones that make my mouth water.

“Saying ‘I love you’ just as you’re about to have a mind-blowing orgasm.” I can feel his smile as he kisses my hair.

“Who says it was mind-blowing?” I poke his ridged muscles playfully.

“Oh, you’re right. We should rematch and go for mind-blowing.” He flips me so he is again on top, pinning me to the bed.

“It was mind-blowing!” I softly laugh, and he kisses the tip of my nose.

“I’d like you to say it when you’re not in the throes of passion.”

“I know.” I say quietly, but I am still feeling raw and exposed. Maybe later, and he seems to understand. He smiles and falls back to snuggle with me against his chest and in the crook of his arm. “But I told you when I wasn’t in the throes of passion, too.”

“Yes…yes, you did.” He kisses my hair, and I can feel his lips curl in a smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me? You knew I was Lola. Why tell me now?” I tilt my head to meet his gaze.

“I liked your honesty. You are very open when you are Lola.” His eyes soften. “And I needed your attention. That’s why I told you now, but if I’m honest, I would have preferred to have kept Lola’s secret.”

“I can understand why, but having that level of access to my inner thoughts makes me extremely vulnerable.”

“I like you vulnerable.” I tense, and he pulls me tighter. “I want you to feel you can be vulnerable with me. I would treasure that level of trust. I want you to be that open with me, but I understand it will take time. All I’m saying is that now you know that I know. I will miss Lola’s honesty.”

“I liked that level of honesty, too. It was liberating and hot. It was safe.”

“And you don’t feel safe with me.” It’s not a question. “But you will…I promise.”

I am quiet for a while, and although I have taken in everything he has said, there is one stupid question I can’t ignore.

“How did you disguise your voice? I mean, you said things that certainly sounded like you, and sometimes I did get a chill, but I never recognized your voice.”

He chuckles. “That’s your only issue with this situation? Good. It was a simple filter, which changed the octave and pitch a little and gave a little echo, but enough to alter the sound.”

“Oh…and it’s not my only issue, but the other stuff we can sort out together.” I stretch my body up his, and he leans down to cover my mouth with a soft kiss.

“Sounds good to me.” He lets out a contented breath and then groans. “This is a fucking uncomfortable bed. How do you even sleep?” He wriggles beneath me in a futile attempt to get comfortable.

“It’s better than the streets.”

He sits up shocked. “Is that really an option?” His brow is heavy with instant fury.

“Not if Sofia’s parents had anything to do with it. No, if I couldn’t live here I’d just live further in the sticks.”

“No family home?” He gently probes.

“No family home.”

“No brothers, sisters, uncles…” He pushes.

“No Daniel, no family. I told you Sofia’s family is my family, well, and my mum.” I need to know what Kit told him, but it’s just going to come across as jealousy. “So who was the lucky lady?” I try for mild interest.

“There’s no need to be jealous, Bethany.” His voice is deadly serious, no teasing with this potentially volatile subject.

“Just so as you know, I don’t actually get jealous. You either want to be with me, or you should have enough backbone to say you don’t. It’s not about jealousy or cheating, it’s about trust, and it was never about not trusting you, Daniel.” He looks a little confused, and I can’t explain further without exposing Kit.

“She’s a widow, sad, really. She had amnesia when she was twenty-two. Can’t remember a thing. She’s had to build her whole life by herself. She was married to some rich financier but he died earlier this year in a car accident. They weren’t married long apparently. Anyway, she met my mother at some function, and my mother adores her; thought the auction would be fun.”

“Amnesia?” I try not to choke on my disbelief.

“Yes, she’s has a rather nasty scar.”

“On her neck?” This seems to make a little more sense.

“Yes.” He draws his brows together. “How did you know?”

“Saw it, saw the back of her.” It would’ve been where her tattoo was removed, not the right image having ‘Dick’s’, her then boyfriend’s brand, for all to see. Only works when you’re a horny teenager, I guess. “What’s her name?”

“Kassandra, Kassandra Shaw.”

“Did you like her?” I don’t know why I insist on knowing this; it hurts to just know she’s spent time with him.

“Fake gold digger? Oh yes, I loved her. We’ve got a date next week.” I know he’s trying to joke, and he has no idea the baggage I carry for that woman. So rather than him think that I really don’t have a sense of humour, I lean over and pinch his nipple, really hard.

“Fuck! It was a joke!” He pouts, rubbing his poor injured body part.

“So was that!” I smirk and roll out of bed. ”Hot drink? Ovaltine, Coco, Bailey’s…Me?” He lunges to grab my leg growling.

“Definitely you.” I slip through his fingers, giggling. I put some milk on to heat and go to fetch the cups, when I hear loud footsteps up to my door. The door swings open and Sofia’s standing with tears in her eyes. I drop the cups and run to her. “Sofs, what’s up? Is it Marco? Is Paul all right? Sofs, why are you crying?” The pitch of my voice is rising with every question.

“Bets, they tried to call you. Then they called me, and I came straight over.” She swallows, “Bets, it’s your mum, she’s had a heart attack. She’s stable, but they said you should hurry.” For the second time today, I see dark spots and hear muffled voices only this time, I am swept up into warm strong arms before I hit the floor.