The British Knight

Violet rolled her eyes. “She needs a time-out from her interfering.” She loosened my tie. “You sure you want to go to dinner? We could stay in?” She smoothed her hand down my chest.

“We can stay in later. But I want to take you out. Talk. Table’s booked for half past seven.” We had things to discuss. Even though I knew she was thinking about pursuing her masters at Columbia, we still hadn’t discussed it in any detail. I wanted to understand what she was planning to do next year. Would she start at Columbia straight away or stay in England a bit longer? I was sure Craig would extend her contract again or she could get a similar job at another chambers. For the first time in a long time I was thinking about something other than work in my future.

“Seven thirty?” She scooted off my knee.

I glanced at my watch. “We should leave in ten minutes, so get those boxes open.”

She pulled out the cocktail dress first. It was cherry red and she’d look phenomenal in it. “Alexander, this is beautiful.” She held it up against her. “It’s short.”

“It’s a good job you have incredible legs.”

I wanted her to open the shoes next. I really hoped they fit, because if it were up to me, she’d be wearing them a lot.

“Holy crap,” she said, pulling out the shiny, black shoe with crisscrossed straps and higher-than-high heel.

“You like them?”

She gazed at them. “They’re the sexiest thing that ever existed.”

“Wrong. You are the sexiest thing that ever existed. I want to see them on.”

“But you want me to be naked, right? Hell, I want to be naked wearing these things.”

I chuckled, my cock twitching at the thought. “Later. I think the restaurant prefers its diners fully dressed.”

“We could skip the restaurant,” she said, stripping off her top and stepping in between my legs. She leaned over, pressed her hand against my hardening dick, and kissed me.

I grabbed her wrists. “Violet. Behave. I know you’re using me for my body, but I want your mind for a couple of hours.” She was hard to resist, but I was a master of self-control. I wondered if her deflection was deliberate. Was she avoiding a conversation about what happened next year? I knew she didn’t like to plan, but if she was thinking about Columbia that meant she was considering her future, and I wanted to know where that left us.

I stood, held her hands behind her back, and crushed my lips to hers, taking the kiss from her as if it were my last one. “That will have to satiate you until we get back,” I said, releasing her. “Now change and let’s go.”

She huffed and unzipped her skirt, letting it pool to the floor and reveal her legs and ass that I enjoyed so much. She knew what her body did to me. She was such a minx and never gave in so easily without a fight—she’d try to tempt me again, so I decided to wait in the hall.

She must have accepted defeat, because she was ready and by my side within just a few moments.

“You look fantastic,” I said, my gaze skimming over the red fabric and her bronzed thighs down to the heels I’d fuck her in when we got back.

“Thank you. I’m styled by Alexander Knightley.”

We put on our coats and I clasped her hand in mine and we began our short walk across Berkley Square to the restaurant.

“So I’ve been thinking,” I said, glancing at Violet, trying to gauge her reaction. She kept her eyes firmly ahead. “I’m going to take every Saturday night off, at least when I’m not in the middle of a trial.”

She nodded, but didn’t say anything as we reached the entrance to the square. The trees had lost most of their leaves weeks ago, but a few clung on futilely. It was still one of the most beautiful squares in London.

“And I’m going to try to take at least half a day off at the weekend. Perhaps even a whole day.”

“A whole day off work, Knightley?” She turned to me as we walked and clutched at her chest. “Won’t the sky turn black and all the babies start crying?”

She was the only person I’d ever encountered who brought me back down to earth with such a tremendous thump. “I think it’s good for my long-term health—mental and physical—and it will force me to work with juniors more often, so I can take on bigger cases.”

She smiled and turned back to the path. “Good for you,” she said.

“And it will mean I have more time for you.”

She nodded. “You’re not changing your working pattern for me, right?”

I’d expected her to be thrilled, but she seemed a little defensive. “Well, I want to spend more time with you,” I said. Was that not what she wanted?

“I would really like that.”

I relaxed my shoulders a little.

“I just don’t want you to feel as if you’re having to give anything up for me. If you have it to give, then that’s great, but I don’t want you to feel you have to do that. I don’t want you to resent me.”

I stopped and circled my arms around her waist. She was describing exactly what had happened between Gabby and me. In the end, I’d resented every moment my wife had taken me away from my work, every moment I spent with her. “I couldn’t. You’ve never asked me for anything.”

She tilted her head. “Not technically true. I beg for your cock a lot.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, you’ll never find me complaining about that.”

“As long as you’re doing what you think is best for you, then I’ll very happily spend more time with you.”

It wasn’t the reaction I’d been hoping for. I’d been wanting to show her that I would have more time for her if she wanted to further extend her stay in the UK, even study here, but perhaps she’d not even considered it. “I don’t understand. You’re encouraging me to be selfish?”

“I don’t want to expect anything and then be disappointed. Let down. You know? And I don’t want to be a burden. I just want to enjoy things between us.”

I dipped and dropped a kiss on her lips. I’d bring it up again at dinner. I wanted to really understand the reasons she thought I might disappoint her. “How could we not enjoy this? We’re in Berkley Square.” I glanced up at the almost-leafless trees. “Can you hear any nightingales?”

“Nightingales?”

“Yes. Singing in Berkley Square. You’ve not heard that song? Frank Sinatra sang it best.”

“Anything he sings is always fantastic.”

“Exactly.” I grabbed her hand and slid my cheek to hers and began to move gently from side to side, humming the familiar tune.

“We’re dancing?” she asked, grinning up at me.

“It’s being here in Berkeley Square, with you. We have to dance cheek to cheek and listen for nightingales.”

“Is that the law?” she asked as I twirled us around.

“Yes.” I dipped her backward and she giggled, a sound more beautiful than any nightingale.

I cupped her face and placed another kiss on her lips before taking her hand and heading to the restaurant. I couldn’t remember ever feeling like this before. I’d felt satisfied, proud. Content even. But I’d never felt this happy.

She shook her head. “How the hell did you get so romantic?”