My training took over. Six years, and some responses came by instinct. “I would love that,” I managed.
He nodded. His eyes stayed on the cutting board as he worked. The knife sliced in swift, sure strokes. “I’ll need your passport for a Vietnamese visa.”
“Is everything okay, Alexander?” I asked again. “Did I do something wrong? You seem out-of-sorts.”
He met my gaze. “No, cherie,” he said quietly. “Of course you didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”
***
Alexander:
What could I tell her? I was having difficulty breathing around her, my guilt was so deep I wanted to feel her nearness next to me, but I couldn’t allow myself that pleasure. I was not entitled. Her life had been ruined because of Dylan McAllister and try though I did, I couldn’t shake off my sense of all-consuming responsibility.
She came up to me the way she had the other night and wrapped her arms around my back. I felt her cheek rest against me and I inhaled sharply. I couldn’t do this. I had morals. Knowing who she was and knowing what Dylan had done to her, I couldn’t allow anything to happen between us. Not now. Not ever.
“Let’s just eat.” My voice came out harsher than I’d intended and I felt her body stiffen before she disengaged. “Sorry, Jenny. I’ve had quite a stressful work day. Perhaps we can just watch a movie tonight?”
“Sure.” Her voice was toneless. “If you’d prefer, I can go away and read something?”
Bright star, you have no idea how much I want you. How much I wish things were different.
I shrugged, a gesture of indifference that sent a sharp ache in my heart. “Whatever you’d like,” I said.
She averted her eyes, but I could see the look of hurt before she turned away. She had every right to feel the way she did. Yet soon, when the truth came out, she would look at me with loathing. I sighed. As always, Dylan ruined every life he touched.
Chapter 18
Ellie / Jenny:
All that night, lying alone in a bed I hadn’t slept in for more than a week, I tossed and turned.
I would have liked to pretend it was Dylan I was thinking about. I should have been going over the mission plan, examining it from every angle and getting my head in the right space for Hanoi.
But I wasn’t. My body missed Alexander’s. I missed the strength of his arms, wrapped around me. I missed the way his chest rose and fell as he slumbered, the comforting steadiness of his heartbeat. I missed watching the vulnerability on his face when he was fast asleep.
After dinner, we’d watched a movie before he’d risen to his feet. “I think I might be coming down with a cold,” he’d lied. “We should sleep in separate beds tonight.”
I’d agreed then, but now I rose to my feet. I didn’t know what was going through Alexander’s head, but I only had a week left with him. I needed him. If it meant risking rejection again, it was a chance I was prepared to take.
I padded on light feet towards his bedroom and pushed his door open. The room was dark and I stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the light in the passageway. I couldn’t see his face. I didn’t even know if he was awake.
“I’ve never done this before,” I whispered. “Alexander, I need you tonight.” I gulped. It was a huge, transgressive thing that I did, saying these words to him, giving him so much power over me. “Please don’t send me away.”
I heard his body move and the small light by his bedside was switched on. I watched the shadows play across his face. I saw the bleakness in his eyes before he clenched them shut. When he opened them, he held out his hand to me. “I could never send you away, cherie,” he said quietly. “And I’m a fool for that.”
I took a step towards him, then another. When I reached the shelter of his arms, I felt like I was coming home. This was a problem.
“Make love to me, Alexander,” I begged.
I hadn’t called him Sir. His mood was strangely disturbed and I wanted reassurance from him. I needed tenderness.
“Ah, cherie.” There was a fractured note in his voice, a tone I’d never heard before. His hand ran along my thighs, bunching up the fabric of my nightgown, pulling it off my body with urgent heat. In seconds, I was naked.
Then his mouth was on my breasts. His knee wedged between my thighs which fell open to him. His fingers found my clitoris with sure certainty. The silence was broken by my whispered pleas and his harsh breathing. Our sex was hot and frantic.
Afterwards, being held in his arms was painfully sweet. I spooned against him, holding his hands in mine. I heard his pulse beat in his wrist and each steady thud felt like the ticking of a clock, counting down the minutes to Hanoi.
***