“Yes. Sure.”
“Thank you.” I pushed past him and let myself out, but I didn’t breathe again until I was in my bathroom with the door locked and my hands over my face.
The sheet fell to the floor but I ignored it, and tried to ignore the scent of him on my fingers, but it suddenly felt as if he was all over me, inside and out, permeating every cell in my body and somehow transforming me from what I knew and relied on, into some version of Louella Knight that I didn’t recognize.
But that wasn’t right. It wasn’t real. There were things I had to do that only the old Louella could accomplish. I needed to find my way back there, and the best way I knew how was to connect with one of the three touchstones of my existence.
Angela was out of bounds with Jack, and Fritha wanted Nicholas for herself, so she was the last person I could confide in. That left Jill.
I washed my hands and dried them, trying to calm my breathing, then I picked the bathroom phone off the wall and dialed the number from memory. Five rings later it answered.
“Missy Lou. How are you?” It was her standard hello, but this time it didn’t annoy me. Its familiarity was a relief.
“Good. Where are you?”
“About to get on a flight to Sydney. We should be home tomorrow. Thank fuck!”
“Can you talk?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
I couldn’t say, I’ve just had sex with my bodyguard and I don’t know what to do about it. No. That wasn’t the old Louella. Instead, I said, “Lizzie was only here for a few hours before she went home to her wife.”
“What? Sieu came back?” There was a muffled sound as if she was moving. “Stupid cow, can’t make up her mind—”
“Isn’t it good that their family is back together?”
“Yes,” Jill said instantly. “But I’m shitty with her. She should never have run off on Lizzie to start with.”
“Pot kettle,” I replied, remembering the many times Jill had run out on Finn.
“They’re married. It’s different. Marriage means something. I’d never do that to Finn now.”
Marriage means something. Why did I not feel that way? Nicholas had back-handedly accused me of immorality by having sex with him when I was still married to Marcus, but the moment Marcus had moved out, our marriage had been over in my mind. The twelve-month separation period was simply a requirement for paperwork. Our assets were already separate and we’d signed a pre-nuptial agreement so there was no need for a financial settlement.
For all intents and purposes, I was single, but even Jill—who was notoriously immoral when the situation called for it—was making me wonder if I was wrong.
“Louella? You still there?”
“Sorry.” I pressed the phone more tightly against my ear. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”
There was a long pause, then, “You slept with Nicholas. I can hear it in your voice. You’re…shaky.”
I closed my eyes to try and still the sudden pounding of my heart. This was what I wanted, an honest discussion. It was the reason I’d rung Jill, but it suddenly felt confrontational, and… hard. I sucked in a slow breath and said, “Yes, I did. How could you possibly know that?”
I could have been shaky for a hundred different reasons. Was she a mind reader now?
“I’ve seen the way he looks at you, L. And the way you don’t look at him. I knew he wanted you. I just didn’t know if you…” I didn’t need to see her to know that she’d shrugged.
“I do, and we did.”
“Was it good?”
Good was such a small word, but I wasn’t about to discuss those sort of details. “I’ve never had better,” I said simply, and Jill didn’t mock me. She’d know I was close to the edge of my conversational comfort zone. In fact, she’d be wondering right now why I hadn’t simply lied about Nicholas.
“…but I’m still married, technically,” I said, laying out the heart of the matter. “And I remember vividly how I judged you for Husband Sitting when I knew nothing about your situation. So if you were to think—”
“Stop,” she commanded. “All I’m thinking is that I want you to be okay. I’m here for you, no matter what.” My pounding heart slowed. This was unconditional love. I could rely on this. I could trust this.
“I’m never getting back with Marcus. You know why.”
“Of course. But that’s why I’m thrilled that you had sex with such a hunk, and that you enjoyed it. That’s fabulous. But going forward—”
“There is no forward. I’m still married.” Let her think it was my decision. Either way, further sex with Nicholas wasn’t happening for months, if ever.
“You know Finn and I had sex while he was still married to the Kat monster?”
“Yes, but his wife wanted that. In fact, she paid you—”
“You don’t think Marcus would want you to be happy? To be satisfied? I’ll bet he is by now!”
I wanted her to lower her voice so Finn couldn’t hear her if he was nearby, but that was just crankiness because I was embarrassed. She was right. Marcus hadn’t given our marriage vows a second’s thought as he’d rushed out to explore his sexuality. And the Marcus I remembered would want me to be happy. I wasn’t jealous of his lover and I doubted he’d be jealous of mine.
Whatever emotions had bound us in marriage, they didn’t revolve around sex. So I said, “I know that. But Nicholas is my employee—”
“Oh please! He could be the gardener and it wouldn’t matter. You need a good fuck-over to muss up that steely perfection, L. He’s right in front of you. Take advantage of that, even if it goes nowhere.”
A beat of silence passed as I digested her advice. Nicholas wasn’t available to me, given his morals, but other men might be. So I said, “And if it ends badly?”
“I’ll be here for you.”
Calm flowed through me then, and I said, “Thank you.”
I didn’t want to talk anymore. She hadn’t solved anything for me, but I felt good that I’d shared something momentous with one of my girls, and I’d reassured myself that our connection was still there, still strong. That bolstered my confidence, and we ended the call by sharing inconsequential details about her flight back and the fact that she wanted to see me while she was in Sydney.
By the time I’d hung up, I felt emotionally restored, but I was still physically the same woman who’d stepped out of Nicholas’s bed, so I had a shower and washed everything. Then I took particular care with my hair and makeup so when I emerged from my room I was poised in a dusky pink pencil skirt with a wide bow on the waist and a fitted white shirt. I wore ‘going out’ heels in a shade darker pink, because I wanted to look professional when the police arrived, as I had no doubt they would.
So by 8am I was in the library looking calm and working through emails, mostly party invitations for the upcoming racing carnival season. There was a knock at the door before my housekeeper came into the room.
“Mrs. Knight?”
I looked up and smiled, relieved that it wasn’t Nicholas. He’d obviously let her in at six—a protocol he’d instigated for my safety some weeks ago— and then made himself scarce.
“Betty. How are you?” The middle-aged woman looked tired rather than her usual tidy, and her brown shoulder-length bob was not as shiny as I remembered it being.
“I’m good, ma’am,” she replied, then there was a pause as she stared at me.
I wasn’t sure what to make of it, so I said, “Is there something that requires my attention?”
“Mr. Aston,” she said, her tone higher than usual. “A lady turned up this morning and picked up a kitten he had here.” It was quite clear that she thought this bizarre.
“Oh.” I tried to look as if I was searching my memory. “He did mention something about that. Yes, that’s fine, Betty. Thanks for telling me.”
Her hands were pressed together at her waist, as if she was holding something in, so I waited her out and at last she said, “He told me he’s set
up in the room next to yours. For safety.”
I nodded automatically, but it was only force of will that stopped me blushing. “The police will be calling by this morning as well,” I told her. “We may need tea and cake.”
She nodded, coming to grips with the fact that I wasn’t telling her why these things were happening. At last she said, “Mr. Knight…is well?”
My composure faltered, and the last few hours of angst over Nicholas faded as I remembered Marcus and his situation. Betty was frowning, clearly worried, and I suddenly realized I didn’t want to pretend with her. She’d cared for my home for almost a decade, and Marcus had treated her like a doting aunt, so I pushed myself past my usual reserve to say, “I honestly don’t know, Betty. I’m worried. He’s mixing with a bad crowd.”
She nodded, her lips pressed tightly together and her eyes blinking. “You tell me if there’s anything I can do, Mrs. Knight.”
I’d known she was fiercely loyal to Marcus, and had been prickly around Nicholas until he’d proven his professionalism to her. So this shouldn’t have been a surprise, but while I’d been nursing my own concerns for my ex-husband, I hadn’t given a thought to others who might care.
Which led me immediately to Adele. I should have rung her last night!
When I didn’t reply, Betty said, “I’ll bake us a nice teacake. And Mr. Aston said to leave his room alone because of the equipment he has in there. Is that right with you, ma’am?”
I wanted to sigh in relief at his forethought. The last thing I wanted was Betty smelling my perfume in there and disapproving of me. I was having enough trouble coping with my own disapproval and Nicholas’s regret. I didn’t need reminders of what was starting to feel like a big mistake.
So I said, “I believe his occupancy there should only be for a short time, so whatever he requires, I think we should accommodate him, Betty. He’s the security expert.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She sounded more like herself, and her back was straighter as she let herself out.
Then I picked up the phone to call Adele, only to realize it would be midnight in Paris. I should wait a few hours and call her when she was awake. The police might have given me more information by then.
I was thinking about that, unconsciously fingering the cool metal pendant at my chest, when another knock sounded on the library door. It was decisive, almost too loud, and I knew instinctively that it would be Nicholas.
“Come!”
I let go the pendant, straightened in my chair and closed my laptop, pushing it forward so I could rest my hands on the smooth solid oak of my antique desk. Then I concentrated on poise as I watched him enter. I wanted everything to be the same as it had been yesterday, or better yet, the day before, but even though he wore the same clothes and had his bodyguard ‘face’ on, everything was different.
I could feel heat rising to my cheeks, and something giddy swirled in my upper chest. Overlaying all that, however, was a deep, hypnotic throbbing that filled the air between us like a sensual thunderstorm building.
His hands hung easily at his sides, but I knew those hands now—I’d felt them on my body, and I couldn’t look at them without remembering that they’d touched me intimately, and had given me more pleasure than I’d ever imagined I could experience.
My throat went dry as my gaze travelled up over the black leather vest that covered that magnificent golden chest, and those biceps…I couldn’t breathe for remembering them around me, keeping me safe when I’d lost control of myself.
This wasn’t just about sex. Nicholas had seen me at my most ragged, and he’d protected me, from myself, as much as from any external threat. In that moment, I couldn’t remember how much I was paying him, but it wasn’t enough. What he’d done went beyond employment and I suddenly knew I couldn’t keep on with that farce. I couldn’t exchange money for…what he offered.
“Mrs. Knight,” he said crisply, but I held up a hand.
“I can’t do this.” I shook my head. “This employer role.” I sucked in a shallow breath, feeling dizzied by my own reaction to him. “It’s not…right anymore.”
“I know.” He was very still.
“I think…” I wasn’t sure what I thought, but I had to say something. “Maybe after we’ve heard from the police, we should…” I shook my head, not quite able to say Not see each other anymore. But what else was there? When he stopped being my bodyguard, he would leave. He wasn’t going to be my lover. He’d made that clear. There was no other context in which we could remain close.
His chin came up marginally. “Are you sacking me?”
“You’ve done nothing wrong,” I said immediately, wanting that to be clear. “I simply can’t continue as your employer.”
He stared at me solemnly. “And I don’t trust anyone else to guard you.” He nodded, several times. “So that’s a problem.”
Neither of us said anything for possibly a minute, but I was thinking many things—about the taste of his skin, the feel of his mouth on mine, the unbelievable rightness of having him inside me. I wanted all that again. With him. And suddenly my idle plan to find another lover evaporated like soap-bubbles under the laser-beam heat of his gaze.
At last he sucked in a deep breath, expanding his chest before he said, “Then here’s the thing…platonic.”
Chapter Eight
I wasn’t sure I’d heard that correctly, so I parroted back at him. “Platonic? As in, a platonic relationship?”
“I know it’s the last thing you need, coming out of the marriage you’ve had,” he said quietly. “But I think we can be friends.”
Friends?
Before I could stop myself, I stood up from the desk, pushed back my chair and crossed my arms.
“So…” he said, raising one eyebrow. “Not the reaction I was hoping for.”
Poise! I demanded of myself, but it wasn’t happening. My breathing had grown choppy, and being in the same room as him was almost impossible. “How can you even…”
“I know. I didn’t say it would be easy, especially if you choose to explore your sexuality sooner, rather than later.” His eyes challenged me to argue with him. “But the alternative…” Then he frowned. “The alternative is me walking away and not knowing how you are. That will drive me slowly insane. So I want to be with you, near you, keeping you safe.”
Silence followed his little speech, and I was forced to acknowledge that I’d never heard more honesty out of a man in my entire life. It was humbling, and it also demanded nothing less from me. So I dropped my arms.
“I’m frightened of you,” I said, “and what you can make me feel. It overwhelms me, and I’m not sure if that’s because of what’s going on around me, or if you have some particular ability to get under my skin.”
He smiled. “I like that idea.”
“I find it distinctly uncomfortable.”
“Maybe because it’s new.”
I stared at him. Was that the reason? Maybe over time I’d become accustomed to the breathless way I felt in his presence. Or maybe the heat between us would fade after weeks of being in close proximity and I’d wonder what all the fuss was about.
He tilted his head to one side. “You’re thinking about it.”
I nodded. It was a totally crazy idea, and I wasn’t sure what anyone would think of me having a male ‘friend’ live in my house, but what other people thought had always been secondary to my own needs, my own desires. And if I was honest with myself, I needed Nicholas right now.
I might not always need him, but in the middle of my anguish about Marcus, and especially when my girlfriends were busy with their own problems—except for Fritha who was lovable but less than reliable—Nicholas was someone I could count on. I knew he would be available for me if I asked him to be.
In fact, the weeks we’d already spent together while he’d been one hundred percent focused on my safety had taught me I could rely on him. Was it unrealistic to let that continued, unpaid.
“Let’s discuss t
his,” I said, and waved toward the wingback chairs that faced each other near the window.
He appeared to be hiding a smirk. “By all means.” Once his large frame was settled in the powder blue velvet chair, facing me, he added, “I’m so glad we’re not going to be emotional about this.”
Was he being sarcastic?
“I think I’ve experienced enough emotion for one week-slash-year. Thank you.”
That put him in his place, and his smirk faded. “Point taken. But this isn’t a business negotiation. This is about a relationship.”
“A friendship,” I corrected.
“Isn’t that a relationship?”
I shook my head. “I’ve never had a friendship with a man, well, except for Doug,” I said. Jill’s ex had been kind enough to visit Sydney to see Marcus in hospital, and I’d greatly appreciated that. I’d even wondered if there was something between the two men at one time, because Marcus had been so intent on maintaining Doug’s friendship after his split with Jill. But it appeared that Doug was completely heterosexual, and available, but like Angela and Jill, I considered him more goofy than gorgeous, and certainly not a man I’d ever consider having sex with.
Nicholas, however, leant forward in his chair, frowning. “And who is this Doug?” His voice prickled with what appeared to be jealousy. “Is he an old boyfriend?”
I had to admit to myself that some deep feminine core reveled in Nicholas’s possessiveness, but I had to say, “Is this how friendship works with a man? You question my other relationships?”
He stared at me, clearly holding something in, but at last he said, “Okay. I can keep my jealousy to myself.” He nodded. “But if you’re going to have sex with someone, can you at least tell me, because not-knowing will drive me crazy.”
“And knowing won’t?”
The staring, the silence, went on a bit longer before, “It’s a matter of degree. Knowing is better.”
“And is it bearable?”
The long slow breaths were back, and I could see he was trying to calm himself down. He wasn’t hiding himself from me, and I was humbled by that.
Husband Heel (Husband #3) Page 10
