Beneath This Man (This Man, #2)(57)

‘Brilliant.’ She is very enthusiastic. ‘I’ll look forward to receiving them. Where do we go from there?’

‘Well, if you are happy with my fee structure and draft ideas, then we can start putting together some firm designs.’

‘Great, I’m so excited!’ she exclaims.

I smile. That much is obvious. ‘Okay, I’ll get the fee structure and drafts over to you by the end of play today. Bye, Ruth.’

‘Thanks, Ava.’ She hangs up, and I immediately set about scanning the designs into my computer. I love working with people who are as passionate about their home as I am.



As ten o’clock hits, I’ve been in the office for three hours and I’ve got mountains of work done. I pick up my desk phone to chase Stella, my curtain maker, on Mrs Stiles’ new drapes. I have a nice chat with Stella. She’s a bit hippy and a naturist, judging by the dicey photographs scattered across the walls of her workshop, but she makes the most amazing soft furnishings. I’m more than pleased when she tells me that she is just packaging them up, ready for me to collect. It’s a week sooner than I quoted Mrs Stiles, so she will be delighted.

I hang up and swing back around in my chair, nearly having a seizure when I’m confronted with my arrogant God, who’s looking down at me with raised, cunning eyebrows. His handsome face spreads into his customary roguish grin. I’m instantly on high alert.

Oh no!

He looks bloody delicious as well, in his grey suit and pale blue shirt, open at the collar with no tie. He’s shaved his two days’ worth of stubble and fixed his hair. My eyes are delighted, but my mind is racing with uncertainties.

‘How lovely to see you, Ava.’ he says smoothly as he reaches forward and puts his hand out. His jacket sleeve rides up, revealing his gold Rolex.

Shit!

I go stone cold when I see a collection of red welts around his wrist, the gold strap of his watch doing nothing to conceal them. It’s his damaged hand too. I flick my startled eyes up to him and he nods in acknowledgment. I mentally kick my stupid self around the office. I’ve hurt him. I feel hideous. I don’t blame him for being so furious.

I place my hand in his, but I don’t grip it. I don’t want to hurt him anymore. ‘I’m so sorry.’ I whisper the words quietly, my voice full of the regret I truly feel. My unreasonable desire to know his age has marked him. I really am going to be in for it.

‘I know you are.’ he answers coldly.

‘Ah! Mr Ward.’ Patrick’s cheerful voice invades my ears as he approaches my desk from his office. I release my hold of Jesse. ‘How very good to see you. I was just asking Ava if she had heard from you.’

‘Mr Peterson, how are you?’ Jesse gives him his full on melt worthy smile, usually reserved for women.

‘Very good, how was your business trip?’ Patrick asks.

Jesse’s eyes swing to mine briefly before returning to Patrick’s. ‘I secured my assets.’ he replies, completely composed.

Assets?

‘Did you receive the deposit I made?’ he asks.

Patrick’s face lights up. ‘Yes, absolutely. Thank you.’ he confirms. I notice he doesn’t advise Mr Ward that it is far too much for an initial upfront payment.

‘Good, as I said before, I’m eager to get things moving. My unexpected business trip has put us a bit behind.’ He accentuates unexpected.

‘Of course, I’m sure Ava will sort you out.’ Patrick places his hand on my shoulder affectionately, and Jesse’s eyes fall straight onto it.

Oh no. Don’t trample my boss!

‘I’m sure she will.’ he muses quietly, his eyes still firmly fixed on Patrick’s unmoved hand.

He’s sixty years old, silver haired and about five stone overweight. He surely can’t be threatened by my big, cuddly bear of a boss?

He shoots his eyes back to Patrick. ‘I was going to ask Ava if she would like to join me for some brunch so we can go over a few things. You don’t mind.’

That last part was definitely not a question. Oh yes, he’s trampling.

‘Be my guest.’ Patrick chirps happily. I notice he doesn’t ask me.

‘Actually, I have an appointment at lunchtime.’ I pipe up. I point to the page in my new diary which is absent of the big, black, permanent marker pen lines that Jesse put through every day of my last diary. I want to hold off on this altercation for as long as possible. I’m not at all comfortable with that wily look all over his face. He’s loving this, but then he catches a glimpse of my new diary and frowns, his jaw ticking slightly.

Yes, I replaced it! He better not even think about sabotaging my new one.

‘That’s not until noon.’ Jesse points out, and I cringe. ‘I won’t keep you too long.’ he adds on a husky, promising voice that also harbours a bit of threat.

‘There you go!’ Patrick sings as he walks off to his office. ‘It was nice to see you, Mr Ward.’

I sit tapping my front tooth frantically with my nail while I try to think of a way out of this. There is none, and even if I had a valid reason, I would only be delaying the inevitable. I gaze up at the man who I love beyond measure, and I am literally trembling. He is playing it far too cool. It’s a million miles away from the raging beast I left handcuffed to the bed this morning.