“The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe,” he read, swallowing hard as he finished.
“I know it’s silly,” I replied, beginning to second-guess myself now that it was actually in his hands. “But you said it was your safe place. Something you shared with Sally. No matter what that man did to you both, it would be such a travesty if you allowed him to take away from you something you both loved so much. Sally is a part of you, like Nan and me. And there are some things that should never be forgotten.”
“Thank you,” he choked, his eyes filled with sincerity and his voice bleeding with emotion.
“You’re welcome.” I pushed up on my tiptoes to plant a gentle kiss on his lips.
He sat down on the sofa and stared at it for a good five minutes, running his hands over the cover and flicking through the pages. It was a special edition print with gold-edged pages, interspersed with beautiful glossy illustrations that were preserved with tissue paper. A keepsake book to be passed down through the generations.
Eventually, he placed the book down on the edge of the table and went back to work, but his eyes kept wandering back to it. I could feel his inner turmoil as if it were my own. Opening such an innocent, innocuous children’s book meant opening the door to a barrage of memories that might come flooding out, some of them good and some of them bad. But if he dealt with those memories, he’d reclaim a love of reading, and books were always a safe harbour in the darkest of storms.
Things didn’t seem quite so bleak after that. At the end of each and every day, Tom always arranged for us to do something that would perpetuate the illusion that we were a normal couple, even for a little while. We’d been out for dinner and been to the theatre, but my favourite had been cuddling up together in the back row of the cinema, eating popcorn and laughing with everyone else at some comedy, like we didn’t have a care in the world.
And still, he gave me more. When I came out of the shower one night to see him sat in the bedroom window seat, his tie missing, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and hair mused as he read. I kissed the top of his head affectionately, and he reached back to squeeze my fingers, but he was gone, lost through the invisible portal of magic to that paper world so far away from here. He always came back to me though. With a half-smile belonging to the child who’d found the key to a treasure thought lost forever. As I watched him read, something occurred to me. That there might be no sight sexier than that of a man completely engrossed in a book. While he read, I sketched him, and little by little, pieces of our souls drifted back to us both.
An air of inevitability surrounded us as we prepared for the cocktail party that would be my last social event for Tatem Shipping. Tomorrow Mark Delany’s visits would be done and by Saturday he’d be gone. Who knew what would happen to the company after that. But I did know my days as a marionette were over. The event seemed like such a waste of our time together, and I was even more certain that I couldn’t face going without him. Even if he couldn’t stand by my side, he’d become my rock. The one I depended on to make me strong when all I felt was tired and weak.
“Hello, Sarah,” Aunt Elizabeth said, after I posed wearily for society photographs along the short, pretentious red carpet.
“I’m glad to see that you came on behalf of the company, but I dare say you could have made a little more effort. Really! You’re supposed to be the glittering heiress, the shining beacon with the media at her feet. That’s a little hard to do when you have bags the size of craters underneath your eyes,” she said, being as snarky as ever.
“Hello, Aunt Elizabeth. I’ve missed you this last week.”
“You have?”
“No, I really haven’t,” I replied honestly, making her scowl. “For at least one night, can you remove the stick up your arse and at least act like my next of kin.”
I was done.
I’d had it with her snarky retorts and hurtful comments. When I was grief-stricken over the loss of my mother, she’d ripped me apart from the only family I had left and corrupted my father until all trace of the man my mother had loved was gone. Even then, after his death, I would have buried the hatchet for a chance at a real relationship with the only other person left that I knew who bore the Tatem name.
It hadn’t mattered what I wanted though. Before me stood a bitter, twisted old spinster who used any situation she could to her own advantage. Asking me to come back was never about getting close to me. It was about power and money and keeping my shares in the family. But even after my epiphany, I wasn’t hateful. I felt little more than pity for her. She would never allow herself to experience what I had with Tom and with Nan. Money made her poor; they made me wealthy. Until she could see that, she’d never be happy. What I was looking for from our relationship wasn’t there. I’d found it somewhere else. What was left was a hollow, empty connection between two people with nothing in common. I could tell that she wanted to challenge me about the way I’d spoken to her, to scream and rage in my face, but I was stronger than that now. Too strong to take any more shit from anyone who probably knew next to nothing about who I really was.
The look on her face was ugly. It was a torrent of malice and rage so aggressive that I had to take a step back. When a board member from one of our largest client companies approached to say hello, it disappeared, hidden once more behind a perfect mask of civility. The client was deep in conversation when she excused herself to go to the bathroom, and I didn’t see her for the rest of the evening. Perhaps I should have mourned the death of our affiliation, but Lord knew I’d mourned enough over the years.
By ten thirty, the evening was far from over, but I’d had my fill of only being able to glance at Tom without speaking to him or drawing attention to us. As far as I was concerned, he should be by my side and not two feet behind me. Add to that my aching feet and uncomfortable dress, and I was ready to ditch it all for a cup of tea in my pyjamas, cuddled up next to the hardest man in the room.
“May I have this dance?” came a voice from behind me.
“Simon!” I replied in shock. “What are you doing here?”
“I actually came to speak with Lieutenant Harper, but I see no reason not to mess with him now that I’m here,” he replied cheekily. “May I?” He took my hand and led me towards the small dance floor that was surprisingly well occupied.
“Mess with him how?” I asked suspiciously.
“You’d have to be blind and deaf not to realise that the relationship between you both has far exceeded the boundaries of professionalism,” he replied. “Aside from the risk that poses to your lives, and of course Lieutenant Harper’s career, I can’t help but warn you that you have absolutely atrocious taste in men. As far as I’m concerned, the man is a troglodyte from a bygone era whose usefulness died with the creation of drones. Still, not everyone at Whitehall feels the same way, which is why he still has a job, but I sincerely hope you both know what you’re doing.”
“Simon, I can safely say with absolute certainty, that neither of us has the first clue what we’re doing. But that’s the exact reason why you and I would never have worked. When you meet the right person, you jump. Even knowing there’s no safety net. You jump anyway,” I explained, and he sighed.
“You know, that makes no sense at all. I’m sure he’s drugged you with some kind of pheromones. You seemed like such a sensible woman when we first met,” he said, making me laugh.
“I don’t know why! I can’t think of a single sensible decision I’ve made since I met you to give you that impression, but as a rule, when it comes to making decisions, I always follow my heart rather than my head.”
“The more you talk, the more I do believe I’ve had rather a narrow escape,” he joked, as he waltzed me around the floor.
“Please don’t shatter my illusions about a future filled with an alphabetised Blu-ray collection or colour-coded meals,” I teased back.
“Ugh, you’ve been spending too much time in the company of that man. He’s made you
mean,” he complained, making me laugh. “Until the next time, Sarah,” he said as the dance finished, and kissed the back of my hand in such an old-fashioned way before leaving me on the dance floor to speak with Tom.
He looked every inch the bodyguard that he was for the night as he watched us both like hawks. Never taking his eyes off me, even when Masterson engaged him in conversation. Whatever it was they were discussing, both looked grave and serious. Eventually, they finished their conversation, and with a quick nod and a wave to me, Simon left. I wouldn’t probe Tom about the meeting. I knew there was very little about his job that I’d ever be privy to, but whatever had passed between them, I had a feeling it wasn’t good.
Mark Delaney’s final visit was anticlimactic at best. After I’d scrawled my signature for the final time, he simply took possession of the papers, popped them into his brief case, and clicked it shut. Pushing his glasses back up his nose with one finger, he took his leave.
“Thank you, Miss Tatem. You’ve been most amiable. I don’t anticipate that I will be returning for several weeks, though of course you’ll see me around the office. If circumstances should change, I’m sure Mr Agheenco will be in touch. In the meantime, he has asked me to leave you with this.” Placing another gold box down on my desk he left, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. Before I had chance, Tom had ripped off the paper and opened the box. He handed it to me as he read the card. Inside was a beautiful steel and diamond Patek Philippe watch.
“What does the card say?” I asked. He looked pained as though he’d do anything to spare me from knowing. Reluctantly he handed it over. It read ‘Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Looking forward to our time together with great anticipation. Love V.”
“We’re done,” Tom reassured me. “He can’t get to you anymore and I promise you’ll never have to see him again.”
“Can we get out of here? I just want to get as far away from this place as possible,” I said, throwing myself into Tom’s arms. He held me close and rubbed my back reassuringly as he kissed the top of my head.
“Let’s go,” he answered. As we left, I threw the watch and card into the waste paper basket and took one last look around Dad’s office. I’d hoped to find there some sense of attachment for the man that had once been the centre of my universe. But there was nothing. The walls of Tatem Shipping were lined with lies and misery. The only thing to be found there was unhappiness.
“Bye, Dad. Bye, John,” I whispered, and picking up my mother’s pen, the physical manifestation of the only good thing to connect me to this foreign world of greed and commerce, wealth and power, I left. Ready to dive into the abyss of a better life than the one I was leaving behind.
My weekend bag had already been packed and placed in the boot of the car that Eli had driven us to the office in that morning. After picking us up, he made a quick, scheduled stop to Dad’s solicitors so that I could sign some papers, before driving twenty minutes until we reached Tom’s black four by four. The windows were tinted for privacy.
“It’s like they buy these things for you guys in bulk.” I chuckled, having seen most of the guys driving nothing else. He shrugged in that way of his, but I was still smiling. Come what may, it was like a noose had slipped from my neck. I’d been oblivious to just how much it had tightened in my months with the firm, until I was free of it. I was a little upset not to have said a proper goodbye to Victoria, but on the off chance that Vasili turned up before the operation went down, I couldn’t allow her reactions to raise any kind of suspicion. I vowed to get in touch with her though when things were safe, and I’d made arrangements through my solicitor to have a substantial sum of money from Dad’s estate gifted to her. It was the very least I could offer for all her years of service and it would ensure that she never had to work again if she didn’t want to.
As we piled out of Eli’s car, I could see Will and Crash lined up and ready to go. After so many weeks of seeing them all in black, or in Tom and Eli’s case dressed in suits, it seemed strange to see them now in civilian clothes.
“I’m going to miss you guys,” I admitted, throwing my arms around Eli. Who knew when I’d see them again after this, if at all.
“Don’t you be getting all nostalgic. We’ll be seeing you again soon. I’ve lost too much money from Nan to not try and win some of it back,” he replied.
“Well, don’t you let her talk shit about me when I’m gone,” Crash said, pulling me into his arms for a hug. “Fuck knows I could do without her spreading any more rumours about me and venereal diseases.”
Finally, I was saying goodbye to Will. “Stay safe?” I whispered, willing him to make me a promise I knew he couldn’t keep. “And bring him back alive for me.”
“Darlin’, he’s the one that’s going to be bringing us back alive. You haven’t seen him in action, but your boy doesn’t know how to die. So stop worrying about us and start worrying about how you’re going to survive a weekend alone with Nan,” he replied, squeezing me in his big arms.
“She’ll be a full-on fucking card shark by the time we get back,” Crash grumbled.
“Great. Then she can fleece all your arses to pay for my retirement. Now, if you don’t mind, can I have my girl back please?” Tom said. He was joking, but I knew the possessive side of him hated seeing me in another man’s arms, even if those arms belonged to his best friend.
Will kissed the top of my head, just to piss Tom off, and he promptly answered with his middle finger as he opened the passenger door for me.
“Get some rest tonight, lads, and I want everyone back at base for twelve tomorrow,” he said.
“Right you are, boss” Eli replied.
“Pub anyone?” Crash suggested, just as Tom climbed into the driver’s side.
“Cheeky fucker,” he muttered with an amused look on his face.
They waved goodbye as they picked up their kitbags, and each headed to their own vehicles. But as they pulled away from the curb, I couldn’t control the overwhelming sense of foreboding, that something terrible was on the horizon.
Sarah
“Nervous?” he asked, grinning like a little kid.
“About a night alone with you?” I squeaked in reply. “No bodyguards, no surveillance, just you me and that bed. I can’t wait!”
We laughed and teased one another the whole drive down, and with nobody to tell me I couldn’t, I spent most of the journey staring at that gorgeous face. In SAS mode, he was terrifying. A man that, for all the world, you knew was capable of incredible violence. But like this, relaxed, happy, and unobserved, he was breath-taking. The further away from London we travelled, the more relaxed we became. By the time we arrived, I was giddy with excitement.
The front door shut behind him, and his eyes turned predatory. The instinct to take a step back was overwhelming, but I held my ground. This predator was mine, and I would own him just as thoroughly as he owned me. I registered the surprise in his eyes as I rushed to meet him, crushing my mouth against his. This wasn’t a gentle, tentative kiss. It was hungry and possessive and not nearly enough to quell the fire that had been building in us both.
As though I were completely weightless, he lifted me to his hips, my legs automatically wrapping themselves around him. Grabbing a handful of his hair, I tilted back his head, my lips starved for a taste of him. Wrenching his mouth away from mine, he buried his face in the crook of my neck and inhaled deeply as he tried to catch his breath.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “If we don’t move, I’m going to fuck you right here on the stairs.”
“So? Fuck me on the stairs.”
He groaned at my easy acceptance and slammed his mouth into mine, our tongues duelling as he tightened his hold and lowered us both down onto the steps. His pelvis nestled in between my legs and rocked hard against that sweet spot that had me climbing him with need. A deep groan rumbled through his chest as the craving raged out of control. Hands fumbled clumsily as we fought to strip off our clothes. I only managed to shed my coat and sweate
r before he lost control. Ripping down the strap of my tank to expose my breast, he allowed himself a moment to feast on the sight of my rose-coloured nipple, beading as it caressed the cool air before his rough hands lifted it to his mouth. His tongue swirled around teasingly before he suckled hard and darts of pleasure shot straight through me.
“Tom!” I cried out, arching my back to deepen his touch. I was drugged with pleasure, mindless to anything but the instrument of my body and the way he was playing it. There was no way to describe what he did to me. There was no awkwardness or embarrassment. No searching to discover what gave me pleasure. Everything he did to me wound me impossibly tighter until I was completely powerless to do anything other than let go and allow my body to explode. There wasn’t a breath of air between us as he held me while I rode out the waves of my orgasm.
“We need to go upstairs,” he muttered. “Now.”
“Why?” The hunger to taste him clawed at me once more.
“Because I’m about thirty seconds from blowing my load in my jeans like some fucking teenager. The next time you come like that, I want to be inside you, and our first time together is not going to be on a fucking staircase.”
“How about the second time?”
“Baby, by the time I’ve finished, we’ll have christened every room in this house, including the stairs.”
Standing up, he threw me over his shoulder, and I squealed with laughter as he slapped my rear. Reaching down, I decided to make the most of having his arse at my fingertips. Years of rigorous training and exercise had left it rock solid. Impossibly toned, tanned muscle tapered enticingly into the back of his jeans. Lifting the edge of his T-shirt, I allowed myself to thoroughly explore until he shivered.
“Having fun down there?” he asked, his voice coloured with amusement.
City Under Siege Page 19
