This Man Confessed (35 page)

“Fine…” The word trails from my mouth slowly. “Where’s Kate?”

“Ladies’,” he replies quickly, waving Mario for a beer.

I look past him, wondering if I should go and see her. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she’s fine.” He doesn’t look at me, but I have a feeling he knows there’s a face full of confusion focused on him. He looks out of the corner of his eye to me, and then sits on a sigh. “I know you all think it, but I’m not stupid.”

My back straightens. “I don’t think you’re stupid,” I say, defending myself. He’s a little oblivious, maybe, but not stupid.

He smiles. “I’ve worked out Kate and Dan. I know why she called it off with me, and I know that something went down at your wedding.”

I know I look as guilty as sin, and I’m wondering if Kate is aware of this. “Why have you kept quiet?”

“I don’t know.” He tips his bottle to his lips, clearly pondering that, too. “She’s a great girl.” He shrugs.

I nod thoughtfully, smiling on the inside. I could happily bang their heads together. I could also cry for Sam. Something tells me he’s never shared his orphan history with many women, if any, but Kate knows and while they both act so casual and carefree, I know there are a whole lot of feelings here that both seem to be playing down. “I think I’ll go and find Kate.” I stand and give Sam a shoulder rub—a silent gesture of understanding, to which he responds with a cheeky grin, leaning down and whispering some mushy rubbish to my navel before he lets me leave.

I push the door of the ladies’ open and find Kate braced over the sink, her red hair completely concealing her face as she looks into the bowl. “Hey,” I say, treading carefully, not wanting her to go on the defensive.

She pulls her head up with some effort and shows me glass-blue eyes full of despair. “Do you think I’m a whore?”

“No!” I’m shocked that she would even ask. A little reckless perhaps, but never a whore. I’m very suddenly seeing the ladies of The Manor in a different light. I know for sure that many of them are only here for one purpose and that purpose is a tall, lean god who is no longer available. Memberships are being cancelled to prove it, as well as some of the relentless ones taking things further. Like drugging me, or trying to run me off the road, or sending me a threatening note. Suddenly, it becomes a very frightening thought that any one of these women could be behind this. Has Jesse got any inkling?

“What the hell have I got myself into, Ava?” Kate’s question snaps me from my disturbing thoughts.

“Love?” I blurt before I can think of whether or not it’s a good thing to say. Her wide blues tell me it’s not. “You’re going to deny it again, aren’t you?”

“No,” she whispers. “I think we’re past all that bullshit.”

“We’re past it?” I laugh. “Kate, we were past it weeks ago.” I’m completely exasperated, but so relieved. My blind friend has finally seen the light. “He’s at the bar, and he…” I pause, quickly reining in what I was about to say. I’m not forewarning her that Sam knows about Dan. That’s for them to sort out.

“He what?” She looks all panicky, which just reaffirms my decision to hold back.

“He’s waiting for you.”

Her whole body relaxes and an air of contentment seems to form a haze around her. “So I should go?” she asks, looking for reassurance. It’s rare to see her doubt herself or ask for encouragement or guidance.

“You should go,” I confirm on a grin. “You have to take a chance, Kate. I think you’ll be surprised where Sam leads you.”

“Do you?”

“I really do.” I smile and take my unsure friend in my arms and squeeze all of the uncertainties out of her. “Please go and talk to him. And let him talk, too.”

“Okay,” she agrees. “I will.” She pushes me off her, pulling a disgusted face. “Quit with the slushy shit.”

“Of course, it’s all me.” I turn to the mirror, along with Kate, and we both start rubbing under our eyes.

“What do you think Jesse is saying to Dan?” Kate’s question reminds me quickly that they’re alone.

“I don’t know,” I say on a frown, “but I’m going to find out. You good?”

“Fan-fucking-tastic.” She drops a quick peck on my cheek and leads the way from the ladies’, her going right toward the bar, me heading left to Jesse’s office.

I burst in, my eyes almost closed, like I’m protecting them from the certainty of seeing my brother held against the wall by his throat. He’s not, though. They’re in the same seated positions as the last time I walked in on them.

“Why are you taking money from Jesse?” I ask assertively in an attempt to make both of them see that I mean business. I definitely don’t mistake the rise and tense of Dan’s shoulders. He might have rumbled Jesse’s establishment, but I’ve rumbled this little agreement. “Are you going to answer me?”

Dan doesn’t, but Jesse does. “Ava, I told you to stay put.”

“I’m not talking to you,” I counter fearlessly, spiking an incredible scoff of disbelief.

“Well, I’m talking to you.”

“Shut up.” I approach the desk and poke Dan in the back. “
You’re
keeping quiet. Have you nothing to say?”

“See what I have to deal with?” Jesse’s palms face the heavens in hopelessness.

I flip Jesse a scowl and smack my brother on the shoulder. “Speak. What’s going on?”

“I’m broke,” Dan says quietly. “Jesse’s agreed to help me out.”

“You asked?” I blurt in disbelief. That’s brash, given the history of my husband and brother’s relationship.

“No, he offered, and there were no strings attached…until ten minutes ago.”

“You’re bribing my brother?” I swing my gaze to Jesse, whose hands are now forming a thoughtful steeple in front of his mouth. “You’ve paid him to keep quiet?”

“No, I’ve lent him some money and added a little clause to the contract at a later date.”

I’m appalled, but stupidly relieved. Jesse said my parents would never know, and he’s ensuring that he keeps his promise. “What about the surf school? And why haven’t you asked Mum and Dad? They would’ve lent you some money.”

“We’re not talking a few quid, Ava. I’m up to my eyeballs. I’ve got myself a massive loan to fund my share of the business and my partner did a runner with it. I’m fucked.”

I crumble. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why do you think?” He looks truly humiliated. “I was turned over, Ava. I have nothing left.”

My sorry eyes fall back on Jesse, who’s remaining extremely quiet, but studying me closely. “How much?” My question makes my husband look all uncomfortable, and Dan is shifting in his chair next to me, which can only mean one thing. “Five thousand? Ten thousand? Tell me.”

“Just a few,” Dan interjects before Jesse can tell me himself. I don’t believe him for a moment.

“Jesse?” I push, holding him in place with a determined glare. I need to know how much trouble my brother’s in.

His eyes break from mine for a few moments and aim for Dan before he takes a deep breath and starts rubbing his temples. “I’m sorry, Dan. I’m not lying to her. Two hundred, baby,” he says on a long exhale. I might need some temple rubs myself. I’m hoping by two hundred, he means pounds, but I know I’m hoping in vain. I stagger back in shock and Jesse is out of his chair in the blink of an eye. He looks mad.

“Damn it, Ava.” He holds me in place by my shoulders. “Are you okay? Are you dizzy? Do you want to sit down?”

“Two hundred thousand!” I yell. “What sort of bank lends two hundred thousand?” I shrug a faffing Jesse away as my shock allows for the information to sink in, turning my disbelief into anger. “I’m fine!”

“Don’t push me away, Ava!” he yells back at me, taking my elbow and leading me around his desk. I’m pushed gently onto his massive office chair. “Don’t be getting your knickers in a twist, lady. It’s not healthy.”

“My blood pressure is fine!” I snap petulantly, but I suspect it’s probably just gone through the roof. “Two hundred thousand? No bank in their right mind would lend that sort of money for a surf school!” They would laugh in anyone’s face if they rocked up with a request on that scale. How much can a few surf boards cost?

“No, you’re right.” Dan’s shrinking farther into his chair, making himself smaller and smaller. It’s an indication of how he feels—small and stupid. “A loan shark would, though.”

“Oh God!” My head falls into my palms. I know how they work. “What were you thinking?” I can feel Jesse’s palm rubbing soothing circles into my back, but it doesn’t soothe me at all.

“I wasn’t thinking, Ava,” he says and sighs.

I uncover my face, just so Dan can see the disappointment on it. I thought he was smart. “Is that the only reason you came home?”

“They’re looking for me.” Dan’s defeated face yanks at my heart strings. “You don’t get away with nonpayment with these types.”

“You said you were doing well,” I remind him, but I get no explanation, just a shrug. “Just stay here.” I sit forward in my chair. “Don’t go back.” I hear Jesse’s quiet laugh and see Dan’s soft smile. Both reactions to my remedy are not being taken seriously. They are also a clue that both men find my naiveté endearing. I don’t see a problem, though. Australia is on the other side of the planet.

“Ava,” Dan says, sitting forward, too. “If I don’t go back, then they will come here. I’ve already been warned, and I believe it. I’m not putting Mum, Dad, or you at risk and…” Dan’s interrupted midsentence by a cough from over my shoulder, pulling his stare from me to Jesse. I don’t need to turn around to know what expression will be on my husband’s face. Dan continues. “These people are dangerous, Ava.”

My head hurts, and Jesse’s hand rubs are becoming firmer. I rest my head back on the chair and look up at Jesse. “You can’t just deposit that kind of money into a bank account. Isn’t it laundering? I don’t want you involved, Jesse.” I feel terrible saying that, given my brother’s sorry situation and knowing Jesse is his only hope, but we have enough of our own issues, without Dan adding to them.

He smiles down at me. “Do you honestly think I’d do anything to put you and my babies at risk?” He nods at my stomach. “I’m transferring enough money into Dan’s account to get him back to Australia. I have the details of an off-shore account where I’ll transfer the two hundred. They won’t know where the money has come from, baby. I wouldn’t do it otherwise.”

“Really?” I’m looking for reassurance.

“Really.” His eyebrows rise and he lowers to kiss my cheek. “There are ways. Trust me.” His confidence makes me wonder if this is something he’s handled before. I wouldn’t be at all surprised.

“Okay,” I concede, accepting his kiss before feeling his face out. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me.”

I look across the desk to my brother, who has noticeably eased up. “Have
you
thanked my husband?” I ask, suddenly feeling a little resentful.

“Of course,” Dan retorts, offended. “I never asked, Ava. Your husband’s been doing some digging.” Dan’s tone shouldn’t be, but it’s accusing.

“Has he?” I swing my eyes upward. “Have you?”

He almost rolls his eyes, like he thinks I’m stupid for not seeing something was amiss myself. “I know a man in the shit, Ava.”

“Oh,” I whisper. This is too much. I feel exhausted. “Can we go home?” I ask.

“I’m sorry.” Jesse pulls me up from his chair and does a quick scan of my body and face. “I’ve neglected you.”

“I’m fine, just tired.” I sigh and pull my depleted form over to Dan. “When are you leaving?” I sound short and stroppy, but I can’t help it. I know exactly why Jesse is doing this, and it’s not just to keep Dan quiet. That was an essential add-on when needed. He’s doing it, first, because he won’t risk the Australian mafia turning up in London, and second, because he knows I’ll be a wreck if anything happens to Dan, which is highly likely if Jesse doesn’t get him out of the diabolical situation that the idiot has got himself into.

“Tonight.” Dan stands. “They’ll be on their way over if I’m not back by Thursday, so I guess this is good-bye for a while.”

“You weren’t going to tell me you were leaving?” I ask.

“I would have called you, kiddo.” I can sense his shame, but it doesn’t ease the hurt. “I’m not your favorite man anymore,” he adds on a smile. I’m not going to disagree. He’s not. He always was, even during my relationships with Matt and Adam, but not anymore. My favorite man is currently holding my tired body up and massaging my tummy with his comforting touch.

“Take care.” I force a smile.

“Can I?” he asks for Jesse’s permission with his arms open, stepping forward.

“Sure.” Jesse hand reluctantly leaves my stomach, but he still holds me until Dan has me in his embrace.

I don’t want to, but I do. I let a few tears escape and soak into Dan’s jacket as I return his tight clinch. “Please be careful,” I beg.

“Hey, I’ll be fine.” He holds me at arm’s length. “I can’t believe your husband owns a sex club.”

I smile as he rids my cheeks of tears with his thumb and kisses my forehead. “Look after her.” Dan puts his hand out to Jesse, who takes it without even a snort of disgust at my brother’s insulting demand. He just nods and reclaims me before Dan has fully released me.

“You can tell them the money will land in their account before the week is out. You have the proof.” Jesse’s fingers work through my hair softly as he speaks. “And no trouble when you leave.”

I know what that means, but I don’t know what the proof is. My washed-out mind is too exhausted to even ask. I watch as Dan nods his acceptance and then strides out of Jesse’s office, not looking back.

I
want to show you something,” Jesse says as he collects me from the car outside Lusso. “Do you want me to carry you?” I don’t know why he’s asked me because I’m draped across his arms before the question registers in my useless brain.

“What do you want to show me?” I ask, resting my head on his suit-covered shoulder. These are the first words I have spoken since watching Dan leave Jesse’s office, and not because I haven’t been spoken to. I couldn’t even muster up the strength to growl a warning at Sarah as we passed her in the entrance hall of The Manor. She smiled awkwardly, refrained from laying her wandering hands all over Jesse and stepped back, almost warily, like she was fully expecting a backlash from me. The surprise was clear when I ignored her presence, choosing to walk on and leave Jesse to talk business with her. And I know that’s all it was and all it ever will be. Business.

“You’ll see.” He strides into the foyer of Lusso, and I smile when I hear Clive’s cheerful voice. He’s not as easy on the eye as our new concierge, but I’ll always favor Clive’s ageworn and jolly face, rather than Casey’s fresh, pretty one.

“Congratulations!” he chants. I’m not surprised. Either Jesse really has broadcasted it, or Cathy’s been getting excited. “Wonderful news!” His voice is getting closer as I’m carted across the marble toward the elevator. “Let me get that for you, Mr. Ward.” He jumps in front of Jesse and pushes in the code for the penthouse lift.

“Thanks, Clive.” Jesse sounds just as cheerful.

“Very good, Mr. Ward, very good. You look after yourself, Ava.” His instruction is stern, and I smile fondly as his crabby face disappears when the doors meet in the middle.

“You let Clive call me Ava,” I point out casually.

He looks down at me with raised, cautionary eyebrows. “Your point being?”

“Just saying.” I find the muscle power to curve my lips into a grin, my husband’s possessiveness providing the amused strength necessary.

“I’m ignoring you.” He’s fighting his own grin as we exit the lift and he lets us into the penthouse, kicking the door shut behind me.

“You won’t be able to carry me soon,” I grumble, holding on extra tight. I’ll miss it so much, but when I’m bursting at the seams and double the size, I can’t envision being carried with such ease, like I’m just an extension of his own body.

“Don’t worry, lady.” He kisses my forehead and turns to push his back into his office door. “I’ve already increased the weights I’m lifting in preparation.”

I gasp and reach up to pull his hair. “Hey!” I’m placed on my feet, but I still have hold of his hair.

“You’re a savage, lady.” He laughs, his head lowered to prevent the pull. “Are you going to let go?”

“Say sorry.”

“Sorry.” He’s still laughing. “I’m sorry. Let go.”

I release him and kick my shoes off. “Why are we in your office?”

“I wanted to show you something.”

“What?” I ask. He looks shifty all of a sudden, uncomfortable and all boyish. “What’s up with you?”

“Turn around,” he commands softly, resting his hands in his pockets.

I look at him questioningly, but he remains silent and his frown line remains fixed in place. He’s concerned, which makes me concerned, and very, very curious. I slowly pivot, wanting to close my eyes, but far too inquisitive to do it. And then the wall slowly comes into view, and I stop breathing. A choked gasp flies from my gaping mouth, and I know I’ve taken a step back because Jesse’s chest is pressed up against me. I can’t even take it all in. My eyes run from one side of the large wall, the length of his office, to the other end.

It’s completely coated in…me.

Every square inch is me. Not framed pictures or canvases or photographs. It’s wallpaper, although you would never know it. Each seam is so incredibly perfect, it looks like one giant piece of art—an homage to me, and the biggest piece, the center piece, is me spread on the cross in our room at The Manor. I’m naked, my eyes are dropped low, and my lips are parted. My hair is a mass of glossy waves, framing my lust-filled face, and the sensual vibes pumping from my body in the still shot is tangible. I can feel it as I’m standing here.

My gaze starts to drift, absorbing it all. There’s too much, and I’m gasping again as I spot a motion shot of my back as I rush down the steps of The Manor. It wouldn’t be particularly strange, but I can clearly see the head of a calla lily extending from the side of my fleeing body. And I register my dress. It’s my navy pencil dress. It’s the dress I wore to my very first consultation with Mr. Jesse Ward.

“That was the first one I took,” he murmurs. “It became a bit of an obsession after that.” His voice is quiet and unsure. I swing around, my mouth still gaping. I can’t possibly speak. He’s biting his lip, watching me closely. I swallow and turn back to the wall.

The Ava Wall.

I’m everywhere. I’m at the launch night of Lusso; I’m sitting on the bench at the dock side after our encounter; I’m in the shower, the kitchen, on the terrace. I’m in Harrods’s changing rooms, and I’m sitting on my stool in the bar at The Manor. I’m kitted out in my biker leathers, and I’m storming away from him in an oversized, cream knitted jumper. I smile, noting so many shots of my back from where I’m running away from him, probably after I’ve received the countdown or I’m having a strop. I’m naked in countless, or just in lace. And then there’s me in handcuffs on the bed, and another of me swimming in the pool at The Manor. I’m laughing with Kate; I’m brushing my hair from my face; I’m eating lunch in Baroque; I’m dancing with my friends, and I’m tapping my front tooth with my fingernail. I also see myself slouched in the passenger seat of the DBS, clearly drunk. I’m running toward the Thames and I’m collapsed on the grass in The Green Park. I’m pushing a trolley around the supermarket, I’m getting changed into my baggy shit, and I’m brushing my teeth. I’m asleep on the jet and standing on the veranda in Paradise. I’m poking about on the market stalls, kicking the sand on the beach, and cooking breakfast in the villa. We only returned from Spain yesterday. How did he do this? I’m asleep in his bed and asleep in his arms—there are so many of me asleep in his arms. Every facial expression imaginable and every habit I have is displayed in one of these pictures. It’s like my life in images since I met this man. And I wasn’t aware of any of it. He really is obsessed with me, and if I had known about this in the early days, like when he persistently pursued me, I think I would have ran faster and farther. Not now, though. Now I’m just reminded after a tiring day of this man’s love for me.

I’m unaware that my feet have taken me to the foot of the wall. I’m slowly walking the length of it, absorbing it all, each flick of my eyes finding another picture that I didn’t see before.

“Here.” Jesse’s quiet husk pulls my bewildered eyes from the Ava Wall, and to a black, permanent marker pen. That alone makes me smile. “I want you to sign it.”

I take the pen and look up at him, unsure if he’s playing or not. “Sign it with my name?” I ask, a little confused.

“Yes, wherever.” He waves at the images.

I glance back at the wall and laugh lightly, still dazed by what I’m confronted with. I step forward and pop the lid from the pen, looking for a spare space for me to scribble my name, but then I spot the first shot that he ever took of me and I approach it, armed with my pen. Smiling to myself, I write beneath the shot of me fleeing The Manor.

Then I make my way over to the image of me sitting by the docks on the launch night of Lusso.

I move along the wall to the picture of me drunk in Jesse’s car and smile as I write,

I’m in my stride now. I quickly locate the picture of me in the chunky jumper, after he manhandled me into the damn thing.

Then I’m writing underneath the picture of me walking naked from the bedroom after I found him collapsed at Lusso, and after he showed me how he does his talking.

My pen drifts over to the shot of me handcuffed.

I quickly scan the wall and find a picture of me walking in front of him through the foyer of The Ritz.

I can’t stop. Each and every image brings a thought, and I find myself marking picture after picture with my memories in words. He doesn’t stop me. I just keep going, like I’m writing a diary of the last few months of my life. I don’t need to record it; each and every moment is etched on my brain, good and bad, but these are all good. And there are so so many of them.

My hand is aching by the time I reach my final picture—my final picture for now, anyway. I’m sure I’ll be thinking of more captions to add. It’s the one of me standing on the veranda in Paradise. I push my pen to the wall.

Replacing the lid on the pen, I take a deep breath and finally face my Lord, bumping into his chest and getting a waft of his fresh, minty scent. I look up at him, finding a straight face and clouded green eyes. “I’m done,” I whisper quietly, but he’s not looking at me. He’s studying all of my captions, his eyes traveling across the wall and pausing every now and then to read what I have written.

He takes the pen and moves toward the picture of me fleeing The Manor, and then gets up close and personal with the wall. I can’t see what he’s writing, and I shift to try and look around his body, but he’s too close. He finally moves away, and I see it, scrolled across the top of the image.

I press my lips together and watch as he moves across to an image of me seated in the long grass of The Manor’s grounds in my wedding dress, top to toe in ivory lace and with the sun shooting bullets of light through the trees behind me. I’m looking away, probably at the photographer. Again, Jesse gets up close to the wall, and then moves away, chewing the end on the pen. He’s drawn a perfect halo above my head and written:

I smile and step forward, taking the pen from his mouth and dragging him from his daydream. I replace the lid and drop it to the floor, then gracefully climb up him until I’m wrapped around his big body.

His palms are cupping my bum and his eyes are burning into mine. “Ava, today has been the longest fucking day of my life.”

Those words have me pushing his suit jacket from his arms and my lips crashing to his, ravenously.

“Easy,” he warns gently, moving each arm in turn so I can rid him of his jacket. “What’s the rush?”

I force my lips to slow their devouring of him—easier said than done when I haven’t had him for two full days. “It’s been too long,” I mumble, pulling at his tie, probably strangling him in the process, but I’m not releasing his lips to confirm it.

He places me on my feet, breaking our kiss, and pulls his tie over his head before kicking off his Grensons and socks. His eyes are ablaze and virtually burning my dress from my body. “Take your dress off.”

It takes me three seconds flat to unzip my dress and pull it up over my head, leaving me standing in my lace. My hand slides onto my navel, my rings sparkling as I rub slow circles around my bellybutton. A piece of me and a piece of Jesse, two pieces, in fact, are growing inside of me, and the very thought has me overcome with a sudden sense of warmth that I’ve never felt before—a warmth that deepens when Jesse’s hand lays over mine and he stoops down, nuzzling my face so he can access my mouth.

“Incredible, isn’t it?” he asks, reattaching me to his body with an effortless pull of my upper thighs.

“Just like you.”

“And you.”

“Show me how incredible you are. I’ve forgotten.” I provoke his arrogance with those words and bow my back, lifting myself higher to him so he has to drop his head back to maintain our kiss. The low rumbling growl emanating from deep inside of him travels through our joined mouths and warms me further.

He starts walking from his office through the vast openness of the penthouse, where I’m laid on the huge corner couch and my backside is pulled to the end so my lower body is propped up on the arm. He removes his trousers and boxers, revealing the beauty of his cock, hard, ready, and within touching distance, but he kneels down at the end of the couch, taking it clean from my view. I don’t have time to complain. My knickers are removed, my legs are pulled apart, and his mouth is on the inside of my thigh fast, kissing gently, shifting to the other thigh and teasing softly. Forward and back he goes, moving from one side to the other, getting higher with each set, his hands spreading me farther as he makes his way to my pulsing center.

“Jesse.” I take in air, my legs needing to move. My hand flies up to grasp the leather on the backrest of the couch, my other cupping the back of his head.

“Have you remembered how incredible I am?” he asks seriously, pulling back and blowing over my raw flesh.

“Yes!” My hands are twitching as his cool breath spreads over me and travels down my thighs. “Shit!” I try to close my legs when I feel the first dash of contact from his tongue on my clitoris, but he’s just teasing me, giving me a taste of what’s to come, and my legs are going nowhere, except where he decides, which is wider, making me sensitive, more open, and more frenzied.