Beneath This Man(87)

'Maybe next week.' I say as confidently as I can.

'You can go.' Jesse says from behind me.

I can go? What does he mean, I can go? 'No, we have The Manor anniversary tomorrow. I'll be knackered.' I affirm. I do want to go, but I know he'll prohibit alcohol, the bloody control freak. I don't get legless all of the time, and the last time I did, it was his fault. I've got so much to dump on Kate as well. Both of us have, by the sounds of things. This little lunch has only clipped the corners.

'Hey, he said it's cool.' Kate complains.

'I'll speak to you later.' I say dismissively, hoping she will take the bloody hint and shut her gob.

'Oh, yes, of course,' She winks. 'later.'

I want to throw my bag at her, but then I feel Jesse tug me slightly, preventing me from following through on my intention. Instead, I toss another dirty look at her before turning and letting Jesse lead me out of the bar.

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*cking 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?