Resisting Mr. Kane (London Mister #2)(93)

“Elly.”

I think I'm imagining it at first. Sometimes I hear his voice in my head.

But then a shadow looms over me and I smell that familiar scent that makes my heart hammer in my chest.

“Tristan?” I snap open my eyes in shock and headbutt him.

“Fuck,” he hisses.

I’m too surprised to apologise. “What are you doing here?”

Mum has crept over to the cottage garden and is pretending to be fascinated by the daffodils.

He holds out a hand and I take it, stunned, as he lifts me to my feet.

He stares down at me with that deep blue gaze that has haunted my dreams every night since I met him. “I can’t stay away any longer, Elly. It’s killing me.”

We stand frozen, staring at each other. My heart is in my throat. Only once have I seen him look this serious, and that was when Daniel overdosed.

“Just hear me out,” he demands. “I know I have baggage. I work too many hours. I have a love life that is splattered all over the internet. I have a beautiful son who needs most of my time and an ex-wife who has my neck in a noose. You’ll always worry that your career is tarnished with gossip. You could go out with that Chris bloke that works for Danny and not have all this shit. I get it.”

“Who’s Chris?” Mum chimes in.

I glare at her.

“But I promise no one will work harder to make you happy and love you more than me,” he continues, his eyes fixed on mine. “Just give me another chance.”

I swallow the hard lump on my throat. “When the incident with Daniel happened you just dropped me. You cut me out for days. I’m not sure I can handle the heartbreak again.”

His face falls. “I made a mistake, Elly. Holding it against me forever doesn’t help either of us.”

“What do you want from me, Tristan?”

He takes both my hands in his and pulls me against his chest. “I want everything from you. And I want to give you everything if you’ll have me.”

“Why?” I ask sadly. “I see the women that throw themselves at you. The ones in the pictures. Most of them are a cross between Mother Teresa, a Victoria’s Secret model and Einstein. Models. Fashion designers. Women at the top of their game.” And I bet none of them fall asleep on a loo some nights.

He sighs heavily and squeezes my hands. “None of them are you. Think about our future, not my past.”

“I’m a trainee who lives in a house-share who doesn't have her shit together. And gets randomly sick every now and then. How do I know you won’t get sick of me?”

“Are you kidding?” His voice rumbles deep in his throat. “I didn’t stand a chance from the moment you stepped in front of me in that godawful bar in Mykonos. I love everything about you. Your sense of adventure. How determined, intelligent and ambitious you are, your resilience. How you always find the best in situations. I love how you protect Megan and your mum and everyone else around you. I love your relentless wisecracks that take the piss out of me, worse than Jack even. I want to build a life with you if you’ll let me. I want to be your guy when you need to get to Wales in under an hour. Or when you need to call in the heavies to get rid of brick-throwers.”

He smiles, leaning closer. “And you talk dirty to me in multiple languages. Is that enough?”

I swallow hard. That’s a good starter.

“Hold on a minute,” I turn to Mum who is pretending not to hang on to every word. “You knew he was coming here, didn’t you? It’s the only reason you went up the hill.”

“Guilty.” She smiles. “And that’s the last time I’m climbing that hill, so I expect you to take him back.”

“So?” Tristan asks impatiently. “Do I need to get on my knees in the grass? Or shall I take you inside our new holiday home?”

I frown, confused. “What?”

He tilts his head in the direction of the cottage. “I bought it. I wanted this to be somewhere we could enjoy together.”

My brain misfires. “You bought…the cottage?”

“Yes,” he says simply. “I know how much you loved it.”

I blink, speechless.

“You know I don’t do things by half, Elly.” He cups my face with his hands. “I’ve committed to having a holiday home near your mother. That has to count for something.”

I’m gobsmacked. “How did you get the sale so quickly through the conveyancing?”

He chuckles. “That’s what you are interested in? Typical lawyer, needing to know all the facts. If you must know, I had to expedite it through a lot of effort. Well? Will you give me another chance?”

My eyes mist over. “Yes, Tristan,” I whisper as he pulls me flush to his body. Our tongues meet, and it’s desperate and feverish and tender all at the same time.

Not because of the cottage. It’s just bricks and mortar. I stare at the guy who sends me articles every day about suggestions on how to manage IBD.

A soft smile spreads across his face as he pulls back to meet my eyes. Then he pauses as if getting ready to speak. He’s nervous. “Elly, I’d like to ask you…”

My eyes widen. Oh fuck. He’s going to propose. I’m not ready for this. I love him but it’s too soon.

“…if I can cook you dinner?”