This Man

I don’t have time for his games. He’s really met his match in me. ‘Please, excuse me.’ I go to side step him, but he moves with me, effectively blocking my path.

‘I was hoping for a tour.’

‘I’ll get Victoria. She’ll be happy to show you around.’

‘I would prefer you.’

‘You don’t get a fuck with a tour.’ I snap.

He frowns. ‘Will you watch your mouth?’

‘Sorry,’ I mutter indignantly. ‘And put my seat back when you drive my car.’

He grin’s a real boyish grin, and I’m even more furious with myself when my heart speeds up. I mustn’t let him see the affect he has on me.

‘And leave my music alone!’

‘I’m sorry.’ His eyes flicker with mischievousness. It’s so bloody sexy. ‘Are you okay? You look a little shaky.’ He reaches out, softly running his finger down my bare arm. ‘Is something affecting you?’

I jerk away. ‘Not at all,’ I need to get off this line of conversation. ‘Did you want a tour?’

‘I would love a tour.’ He looks pleased with himself.

On a huff, I lead him out of the kitchen and into the massive living space. ‘Lounge,’ I wave my hand about in the general space around us. ‘You’ve seen the kitchen,’ I say over my shoulder as I walk through the open space and onto the terrace. ‘View,’ I maintain my tired tone, hearing him laugh lightly behind me.

I lead him back through the lounge to the workout room, not saying a word as we trek through the penthouse. Jesse shakes hands, greeting various people on our travels, but I don’t pause to allow him time to stop and chat. I march on in a bid to get this over with as soon as possible. Damn this place for being so big.

‘Gym,’ I state, walking in and abruptly leaving again when he enters. I head for the stairs, hearing him laugh behind me. I take the back-lit, onyx staircase, proceeding to open and shut doors, one at a time, while declaring what lies beyond. We reach the pièce de résistance, the master suite, and I wave my hand round at the dressing room and en-suite bathroom. The place really does deserve more passion and time than I’m devoting.

‘You’re an expert tour guide, Ava.’ he teases, regarding one of my favourite pieces of art. ‘Care to enlighten me on the artist?’

‘Guiseppe Cavalli,’ I toss the name at him, folding my arms over my chest.

‘It’s good. Is there any particular reason why you chose this artist?’ He’s blatantly trying to temp me into conversation.

I stare at his broad, suit covered back, his hands resting lightly in his trouser pockets, his lean legs slightly spread. My eyes are very pleased, but my brain is in a jumbled mess. I sigh and decide, wisely or not, to indulge him. Guiseppe Cavalli most definitely deserves my time and enthusiasm. I drop my arms and walk over to join him in front of the piece.

‘He was known as the master of light,’ I say, and he looks at me with genuine interest. ‘He didn’t think that the subject was of any importance. It didn’t matter what he photographed. To him, the subject was always the light. He concentrated on controlling it. See?’ I point to the reflections on the water. ‘These rowing boats, as lovely as they are, are just boats, but see how he manipulates the light? He didn’t care for the boats. He cared for the light surrounding the boats. He makes inanimate objects interesting, makes you look at the photograph in a different…well, a different light, I suppose.’ I tilt my head and observe the picture. I never tire of it. As simple as it seems, the more you look at it, the more you get it.

After a few moments silence, I rip my eyes away from the canvas, finding Jesse staring at me.

Our eyes meet. He’s chewing his bottom lip. I know I won’t be able to say no again if he pushes this. I’m all out of willpower. I’ve never felt so desired than when I’m with him, and I keep trying to fool myself that the feeling is unwanted.

‘Please don’t.’ My voice is barely audible.

‘Don’t what?’

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