by Lilly James
“I will pick you up at eight. No short dresses.”
I gaped at him. “You can’t tell me how to dress.”
He gave me an amused smirk. “I do not wish to, but I can’t change the dress code for where I am taking you.”
“Oh. Okay.” That’s all right, then, I thought.
He walked back around the desk and lowered his delicious body down into the seat, opened up his laptop, and raised his brow at me. “You better get to work before Clarke kicks your butt.”
“My butt?” I laughed because of the word, and because of the way he said it.
“Arse, then.” He shrugged, doing another English accent. I shivered in delight every time he did it.
“You know, you’re quite good at that.”
“What?” He frowned, looking clueless, which was quite adorable.
“An English accent.”
“Of course I am.” He shrugged, completely serious.
“Such an arrogant arse,” I murmured on my way out.
Clarke huffed when I re-entered the room and shot me a folder. “Evey, you’re impossible. Scan this array of photographs for me, please. Oh, and I wouldn’t take too much notice of them if you’re squeamish.”
Of course I looked. Then looked away immediately. I knew a murder investigation when I saw one.
I got home around six p.m. after accepting a lift from Cleaver. Parks was busy, so I rode alone. When I got in, I ran myself a bath, then opened up my wardrobe and sighed as I looked at what to wear. I knew it couldn’t be short, and I wasn’t sure whether I believed that was because of the restaurant’s requirements or Parks’s.
I settled on a tight-fitting, mid-length, nude dress. It could be worn bandeau, but I kept the straps on to support my ample breasts. The colour looked good against my light olive skin and dark brown hair, so it was a definite yes. I spritzed Black Opium on my wrist, my neck, and behind my ears, then quickly looked in the mirror again before leaving my room. I never saw beauty. I always saw those words my mother used to stab into me when I looked at my reflection, so I never really stared for long.
I was actually on time when I looked at the clock as I entered the living room, which had to be a first. I found Steph and Mathew watching TV, looking bored to death, but their eyes popped out when they saw me. Steph made a point of closing Mathew’s mouth.
“A date with Alex?” Steph beamed, sitting up and clapping her hands.
“No. A friend, actually,” I replied, a little distracted as I applied my pink lip gloss.
“A friend?” She looked at me in shock. “I’m your only friend.”
I chuckled at the fact, but now I had a new friend. “It’s a work colleague, chill out.” I popped my lip gloss back into the tube and dropped it into my purse.
Steph frowned, getting more curious by the minute and glanced at Mathew for advice. He shrugged like he didn’t care. She continued like Sherlock Holmes. “I know you didn’t get dressed up like that for a woman.”
“What, I’m not allowed to look nice?”
She was taken aback a little, and I wasn’t sure if it was because of my announcement or because of how distracted I came across.
“Am I invited?” Yes, she was grumpy, grumpy because I hadn’t invited her and she had no idea who I was going out with. And maybe a little because she had to stay in with Mathew.
“Steph, you’re having a night in with Mathew.”
“He won’t mind. Will you?” She shot him a hopeful look. She didn’t care if he cared.
“No, don’t mind me.” He slumped down into the sofa and tried to make out he wasn’t bothered, but he clearly was bothered.
“No. I’m leaving. Good-bye.”
“Have fun,” she murmured petulantly, sinking back into the sofa with her arms crossed.
As precise as clockwork, the Jaguar was waiting when I walked outside. When Parks elegantly climbed out, my heart stopped for a second. He wore a crisp white shirt that was open slightly at the collar. It showed a small fraction of trimmed chest hair that made me swallow hard. The white dress shirt was paired with navy blue, fitted suit trousers that hung from his hips delectably, and his black wing-tipped shoes finished off his classy look. He completed it with a gold watch, and his dark hair was styled more precise than usual. I sort of had a thing for his hair. When he didn’t style it finely it looked like just-fucked hair, hair that oozed sex appeal and dishevelled perfection and that “I don’t care if it’s tousled, I still look good” attitude. Not many men could pull that off.
Whipping myself out of my Parks trance, I caught his gaze rolling slowly down the length of my body.
“Evelyn, you look…sensational.”
“I do not.” I brushed off the compliment and looked over Parks’s breathtaking posture once more. “But you…” I didn’t finished my sentence as the amused twitch his lips gave stopped me from talking.
“Was that almost a compliment?”
I yawned, purposely. “Shut up, Parks. Don’t get used to it.”
“It’s Wade,” he corrected, and I sensed his smirk as I passed him to climb into the car, then said hello to Cleaver.
“Does he ever go home?” I whispered.
Parks whispered back, copying my actions. “No, he lives in this car.”
I laughed, shoving him in his chest, so he brought me into him by wrapping his arm around my shoulder.
“Hmm, you smell ravishing. If there’s one thing I love about a woman, apart from curves and beauty, it’s the way she smells. Your scent to me, Evelyn, is completely divine.”
My body betrayed me and shivered as his breathy whispers tickled at my ears.
“Thanks,” I murmured.
“Here, I have a gift for you.”
I recoiled, surprised and confused as he handed me a small white Chanel gift bag. I held my hands up and away from it as he tried to present it to me. “Why are you getting me gifts? I don’t…”
“Don’t argue with me, Evelyn. Just take it. Think of it as a gesture of goodwill.”
A gesture of goodwill? I didn’t like that he’d bought me something, and I already knew it was expensive because it was from Chanel for fuck’s sake.
I took the bag from him a little diffident, then reached inside gingerly and found a medium-sized box. My forehead creased in confusion, and I could sense his grin as I opened it. Inside, I found a gorgeous white-banded, sapphire crystal, Chanel watch.
“A watch?” I gasped at how beautiful it was but then stiffened. “Wait, this is too much.” I tried to push it back into his hands. I couldn’t accept it. “I don’t understand…”
He took the watch from the box and secured it slowly around my wrist. “You’re always late, Evelyn. Now you have no excuse.”
I glanced up at him in amazement. “You got me this because of my punctuality?” This guy surely wasn’t for real. What did it matter to him if I was late or not, anyhow? The watch was beautiful, yes, but there was absolutely no need for it.
His smiled glowed whilst he proudly straightened out the watch on my wrist. “Yes. Now I expect you to be on time, always.”
“Unbelievable.” I shook my head, but I couldn’t help giving him a small smile. “Thank you.”
After calming down and accepting the gift, I glanced at my wrist. People never bought things for me; not my parents, past sex partners, no one. If I wanted something, I got it myself, so this was a little surreal to me. I hardly knew him and he had bought me something to help me. That surely meant he was thinking about me? I sighed, pushing the thought to the back of my mind. I couldn’t think that way.
“Where are you taking me?” I was trying to take light off the watch.
His tickled his fingers up and down my nape. “The Ivy.”
“Where all the celebs go?” I was fully aware I sounded pathetically excited and couldn’t hide it.
“Do they?” He shrugged, appearing not to be fazed as he watched his fingers. He knew damn well they did, but he didn’t seem to want to parti
cularly talk about where we were heading. His green irises stared right into my soul as he stroked my neck, and his lips were parted as he breathed out softly. Those actions alone gave me the impression he had other things on his mind. His striking features got me every time. It was hard not to get sucked in by that face. That square jaw, his perfect nose, and lips so deliciously full they formed a gorgeous M shape.
“This is a beautiful dress,” he whispered, still eye-stalking my body.
I shrugged. “It’s not a Victoria Beckham dress, but it’ll do.”
He didn’t take much notice of my answer. “I love your hair down, Evelyn, but I do particularly like that ponytail of yours.” He leaned over to whisper the next part, keeping his voice low and seductive. “It served its purpose well when I fucked you for punishment the other day. I can’t get it out of my mind.”
I inhaled sharply at the conversation change and the way everything between my thighs burnt as I imagined him kneeling on all fours as he thrust inside me from behind with his wrist wrapped around my hair, pulling it tortuously sweet. The way he felt was something I’d refused to think about, because when I did, I immediately wanted it again. My skin heated up and I felt feverish all of a sudden as he traced his fingertips over the tops of my breasts where the dress pushed them up. At the same time, he tickled my ear with his hot, seductive whispers.
“I also haven’t stopped thinking about how your breasts will bounce when I fuck you again. Your tits are by far the best I’ve ever come across.”
I closed my thighs to keep my clit from pounding. “Don’t,” I warned, shifting so his arm fell from my nape and breasts. “I came tonight under the impression we were going to dinner as friends.”
He exhaled his frustration and scratched his forehead. “I’m just trying to figure out what kind of friends you think we are meant to be. Friends as in acquaintances, or friends with benefits, because I seem to remember fucking you in your bedroom the other night, and the way you gasped when I mentioned it earlier, the way you tightened your thighs, tells me you haven’t forgotten that, either.”
“Friends with benefits?” I almost laughed, because something so slangy coming out of his mouth both didn’t fit and fit perfectly at the same time. “You fucking me that night was the first and last time.”
He placed his hand over my knee and stroked the skin my dress exposed from rising up as I sat. My body tensed as he slowly slipped his palm up my thigh, pulling my dress up with it.
“You see, that’s where I’m getting confused. You tell me to leave you alone, but here we are. You tell me you don’t want me, but your body craves mine, Evelyn, just as I crave yours. Want to hear my theory?”
I placed my hand over his to stop it sliding between my thighs. “No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
His brows lifted humorously as he looked at my hand covering his, so I pulled it away. He grabbed my chin with his fingers and pulled my face to meet his. My breasts were rising and falling beneath the tight-fitting material as my breathing became deeper.
“My theory is that you can’t stay away from me, but you’re too stubborn—no, let me rephrase that—you’re too emotionless to admit it. Or you don’t want to admit it. Give or take.” He grazed my lips with his perfect pair as he spoke. I sat there unable to move and breathed against them.
“I can stay away. It’s you that can’t stay away.”
He slid his fingers from my chin and up to caress my cheek. “You’re right, I can’t stay away. And I will damn well admit it. Tell me something,” he breathed. “Why do you think choosing Alex is better than choosing a man like me? It makes no sense.”
“Well, you have more money than sense, as this proves,” I held my wrist up, indicating the watch. “And I have more sense than money. So to me, it makes sense.”
He chuckled sexily and straightened the cuffs around his wrists. “You’re wrong. I have more sense than money. And I have a lot of money, so that equals a lot of sense.”
I rolled my eyes and gave him an exhausted glare. “We’re going to argue over who has more sense?”
He grinned mischievously, which did my body no good. “Do you want to argue?”
“No.” I sighed.
Then he was back to being cocky. “Didn’t think so. Because I always win.”
“Of course you do,” I made my voice sound bored. “Because you’re so perfect,” I scoffed.
Tilting his head to the side slightly, he gave me an intentionally egotistic smile. “I wouldn’t say I was perfect. No, scratch that, I would.”
My laugh was meant to offend him. “Perfect? You’re an arrogant arsehole.”
“And that,” he agreed with a twitch of his lips, but I wasn’t finished. Putting each finger up in turn, I counted off what I thought of him. “And controlling, and domineering, and possessive.”
“I’m not controlling Evelyn, I’m in control. It’s different. And I am dominating, yes. I’m possessive, yes. But not crazily so. I have the right amount of everything. My traits are equal.”
Jesus. He was hard work. “If I was your girlfriend, I couldn’t put up with your shit.”
He shifted his elegant, powerful body to the side, draped his arm across the back of my shoulders, and raised his leg so his knee was resting on the seat between us. “Have you thought about being my girlfriend?”
The car stopped, and I noticed we were outside The Ivy. I unbuckled my seat belt furiously and let myself out. “I can’t do this.”
“Evelyn, don’t you walk away from me,” he called before I slammed the car door. He wasn’t far behind me as I stormed down the street, having no clue where I was going, but it was better than staying in a situation I couldn’t put myself in, yet one I kept putting myself in.
“Evelyn. Stop.” I whipped my head around to face him at his barked demand. “If I have offended you in anyway, then please accept my apology. The last thing I want to do is upset you.” He sighed, sounding resigned. “Come back to my place. We’ll talk.” He was pleading with me, knowing there wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to the restaurant with him at that point.
“There is nothing to talk about.” He wasn’t getting it. I had agreed to go out with Parks under the impression we would not talk about me or us, but he couldn’t help himself.
“There is so much to talk about.” He sighed again, this time as if he was losing a battle, a battle he wanted to keep fighting.
I marched towards him aggressively and shoved his shoulder. “Do you want to know why I’d choose Alex instead of you?”
He stepped back a touch. “Evelyn, not here,” he said calmly, as if not wanting to make a scene. “You will get back into the car and deal with this the right way.”
He took my hand sternly, but I ripped it from his tight grip. “It’s because I know he won’t break my heart,” I yelled.
He stopped abruptly with his back to me, his body ridged, stunned. He was speechless. I couldn’t believe I said such a personal thing that I felt almost threatened by, but I had, and there was no going back.
He turned towards me slowly with narrowed, pained eyes, and they grew heavy with unwanted sympathy. “You think…I would…”
“I don’t think. I know,” I told him quickly, wrapping my arms around myself to ward off the cold London air.
He shook his head slowly, clearly insulted by what I was accusing him of. “Then you know nothing.”
I looked into his green, tender eyes as mine softened. How could he say he wouldn’t hurt me when it was inevitable?
“Come back to my hotel with me. Please.”
My tone was bitter when I answered, “Why? So you can fuck me again?”
He frowned. “No. Just to be with me. Besides, I still need to feed you. Allowing my ‘friend’ to go hungry isn’t very friendly, is it?”
I sagged a little and couldn’t help but smile at his ridiculous but funny remark. “Only because I’m hungry,” I hit back and skirted him as I headed back to the car. He march
ed ahead just in time to hold the door open for me. I kept my head down as I climbed in so I wouldn’t keep getting spellbound by his charming looks, smirk, or vivid greens. He climbed in beside me and frowned as I rubbed my arms from the cold.
“Next time I suggest you wear a coat.” He didn’t have one of his own, so he put his arms around me to keep me warm, and after a cautious pause I melted into them. He told Cleaver to switch on the car heaters before we pulled out and headed to his hotel.
Chapter Thirteen
I walked into his hotel suite and was hit again by how luxurious it was—just as I remembered it—and followed Parks into the vast kitchen area, where I watched him open up the fridge.
“What would you like to drink, Evelyn?”
I could have said wine or vodka, but for some reason being in Parks’s company made me feel like not drinking. It was only when I left him and my thoughts scattered like loose marbles that I needed it.
Before I told him my preference, he unknowingly put my mind at ease. “I don’t drink alcohol, therefore I don’t have any to offer. But I don’t want you to think my hospitality is lacking. If you would like wine, champagne, I can go and get you anything you like.”
I shook my head quickly. “No, water will be fine.”
“As you wish.” He smiled contentedly before pouring me a glass of water from a filter jug in the fridge and then fixed up a glass of watermelon juice for himself. As he handed me my glass, I questioned his drink preference.
“Why watermelon?”
He stiffened a little, which was an odd thing to do. After all, I only asked why he liked that kind of juice—no big deal. “Why not?” He smoothed the question over with a shrug of his broad shoulders, but I knew there was another reason. Still, I didn’t question him further.
“Come sit with me.” I followed Parks over to the sofas. He allowed me to sit down before seating himself, and I couldn’t help but watch the way he moved and listen to the way he talked in such a graceful, proficient manner.
What the hell did I think I was doing? A successful businessman like Parks, who had a respected reputation and high profile, would not want to be around someone like me when he found out about my past. The question wasn’t if he did but when he did. It was lucky there was absolutely no way in my mind I could have a relationship with him and that I didn’t care what he thought about me, because if I did, there wasn’t a chance in hell he would want me.
