Chapter 76 Gen
Gen
Traitors.
Why does this feel like another Anton Ambush of epic proportions?
Because it is.
That’s why.
I reluctantly leave my so-called friends and get myself checked in. And as I walk towards the gate, my heart stops.
There he is.
Oh my dear God.
If I thought for a second I could live without him I was plain delusional.
He’s so beautiful my heart physically hurts.
He’s in a lightweight blue shirt and chinos, dark hair raked back in a perfectly messed style, hands in his pockets and those big brown eyes fixed solely on me.
In them I see reflected the pain and heartache I’ve suffered this week.
However badly he’s overstepped, the proof that he feels deeply for me is etched into every line on his gorgeous face.
‘Hi,’ he says softly.
I stop in front of him. ‘Hi.’ My voice sounds almost shy. I feel shy. I feel like a nervous teenager, my stomach a net of butterflies. The sense of betrayal I felt mere moments ago is dissipating, leaving a more complex emotion in its wake.
He gestures at my case. ‘May I take it?’
‘I’ve got it, thanks,’ I say.
He holds out his hand. ‘Can I at least hold your hand, then?’
I look up at him. I want to fling myself at him like a koala bear and never let go.
‘I need a moment, okay?’ I say gruffly, because God knows, if I hold his hand, I’ll melt.
‘Of course,’ he says quickly. I don’t miss the hurt in his eyes.
We cross the tarmac and he hands my suitcase off to one flight attendant as his usual one, the immaculate Carly, greets us at the bottom of the steps.
The cabin is as opulently relaxing as usual.
Miles of cream leather and cream carpet and walnut panelling and the obligatory W monograms. There are platters of antipasti and fresh fruit laid out on the table next to a crystal vase bearing beautiful blue delphiniums, and a bottle of champagne is chilling in an ice bucket, a white folded napkin around its neck and two champagne flutes waiting beside it.
Anton ushers me into a forward-facing seat and takes the one next to me, effectively hemming me in.
‘Why don’t you give us the safety briefing now, Carly?’ he suggests. ‘Then you can retire. I can take care of the drinks—we don’t want to be disturbed for the rest of the flight.’ There’s a faint tremor in his otherwise commanding voice.
My stomach jolts at the thought of being all alone with him for the duration of our journey. I don’t know whether to feel terrified or exhilarated. I’m a bit of both, probably.
‘Of course, sir,’ Carly says with a bright smile. She delivers a speedy and efficient safety briefing and then bids us an enjoyable flight. ‘Wheels up in five minutes,’ she informs us before closing the partition door behind her.
As soon as she’s out of sight, Anton twists his body so we’re facing each other. His eyes sweep over my face.
‘God, it’s such a relief to see you,’ he says on an exhale. ‘I’ve missed you so much.’
I swallow. ‘I know. Me too.’
‘Champagne?’ he says suddenly.
‘Yes, please.’ I’m definitely going to need a drink for this. I feel lightheaded just being this close to him. Being trapped here next to him. Being able to smell him, sense the heat coming off his huge body.
‘Excellent.’ He busies himself with opening the bottle, botching the tearing of the foil. Good Lord. He really is nervous.
He doesn’t speak again until he’s filled both our flutes and handed me mine. He holds his up and looks me intently in the eye. ‘To me earning back the privilege of your trust,’ he says quietly.
I have no words, so I clink my flute against his. I give him a little nod. It’s a strong start, but I need to hear him articulate how he sees our situation. I need to see whether he gets where I’m coming from.
Anton looks down, finding my free hand and clasping it tightly before turning those brown eyes back on me.
I should pull my hand away.
I should.
But I don’t want to, and I’ve missed the simple pleasure of having my hand engulfed in his warm, strong one. God, it’s intense being the sole focus on his attention. And we’re not even having sex.
‘My darling,’ he says, his thumb stroking the back of my hand. ‘I cannot apologise enough for what I did. I went gangbusters into a situation that was solely your jurisdiction, and it was completely unacceptable. From the bottom of my heart, I’m sorry.’
‘Thank you,’ I murmur.
He takes a deep breath and keeps going. ‘Your friends helped me understand it from your point of view, and now that I have that perspective I’m disgusted with myself.
’ He shakes his head. ‘I made a unilateral decision about someone else’s business and I just waltzed right in and threw my weight around.
When I look at it like that, I can see why you were so fucking furious. And rightly so.’
‘Exactly,’ I say. ‘I can’t have you wading into my professional affairs, Anton.
Not only is it literally none of your business, but you made me feel like you didn’t think I was capable of handling it myself, which was probably the most hurtful part of it all.
Especially after all the chat you gave me about finding me impressive.
It made me wonder if it was all bullshit. ’
He screws up his face like he’s in pain.
‘I know. I can see why it would look like that, and I can’t bear it, because obviously I feel exactly the opposite about you.
And I’m not here to try to make excuses, but if you’d let me, I’d like to make this point.
It absolutely wasn’t about control, or about undermining you or not having faith in you.
‘It honestly came from a place of adoration and righteous anger on your behalf. Those guys were such pricks at the Serpentine, and I just saw red. I know how hard you work. I know how much Alchemy means to you, and there was no way I was letting those dickheads destroy what you built, so I went nuclear.’
I raise my eyebrows. ‘No arguments here.’ He looks so crestfallen that I add softly, ‘I do get it. It’s kind of romantic, when you put it like that, but you’ve got to understand I don’t need a white knight. When you do stuff like that, it makes me feel weak rather than strong.’
He exhales, his nostrils flaring. ‘I get it. I don’t like it, because that’s not how I feel, but if that’s the effect it has on you, then that’s absolutely not okay.’
‘No, it’s not,’ I agree.
He looks down at our joined hands and loosens his grip so he can interlace our fingers.
‘I’m at a loss here, because this is what I want you to know.
I think you are an incredible woman in all areas of your life, including the business you run.
Clearly, I’m an Alchemy fan.’ He grins, and it’s so adorable I can’t help but give him a little smile in return.
‘I promise you faithfully that I will never go behind your back again, and I’ll never wade in where my involvement isn’t wanted. ’
I nod. ‘Glad to hear it.’
‘But. I want you to know that if you ever require a henchman, I’m a very effective one.
Very dastardly.’ He winks, then sighs. ‘I’m trying to say you have me in your corner, sweetheart.
Permanently. Not because you’re weak or inadequate or you need me, but because every human deserves to have someone who’ll always be on their team.
I’ll always be Team Gen. And woe betide anyone who tries to hurt you. Consider me your personal pit-bull.’
I smile. ‘But I get to control the leash.’
‘You always get to control the leash. Keep me in a fucking kennel if you want. But maybe just knowing you have me around will give you peace of mind.’ He looks at me pleadingly, and I acquiesce.
‘I can live with that,’ I tell him.
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah.’
‘I have one more thing to say,’ he says hesitantly, ‘and another apology to make, come to think of it.’
I raise my eyebrows. ‘Okay…’
‘You quite rightly accused me, when I told you I loved you, of weaponising those words.’
I shift uncomfortably.
‘And you were right. I was desperate to make you understand where I was coming from, but it doesn’t change the fact that I threw those words at you. It was manipulative, and you deserved far better than that, and I’m sorry.’
‘Wow.’ I exhale. ‘Okay. Good.’
His apologies, and his sincerity, have my head spinning. Contrite Anton is my new favourite version of him. He’s saying all the right words, and I have to trust that he’ll back them up with his actions—or lack of them, as the case may be.
I want to trust.
‘How am I doing?’ he asks, tilting his head to one side. Our faces are so close, and he has my head spinning with his words, and his gorgeous looks, and his fucking scent. Jesus, this guy messes with my brain chemistry.
I’m still clutching my flute. I set it down on the table and allow myself to touch his face. To run a fingertip down the laughter lines bracketing his mouth. The lines I love so much.
‘You’re doing adequately,’ I tell him, and he grins, his dimple flashing under my fingertip.
‘Yeah?’
‘Yes,’ I whisper, and I close the distance and kiss him on his beautiful, plush lips. He makes a strangled sound at the back of his throat before his other hand comes around my neck, his fingers raking through my hair. Then his lips are parting and his tongue is seeking access.
I open, and it thrusts inside my mouth like he can’t bear to wait another second.
He holds the base of my skull in a clamp as he kisses me, releasing my hand so his other hand can roam over my shoulder.
Down my bare arm and around my back so he can tug me even more tightly against him. Relief hits me in a cascade.
His tongue invades my mouth. It’s so thick and taut and muscular.
Being thoroughly kissed by him is so intensely sexual.
It’s like nothing else. Already he’s consuming me.
He’s short-circuiting my brain, and my entire body is keening for him.
God, he’s so hungry and insistent and delicious.
This is the kind of control I’ll give him all day long.
So I do. I put myself in his hands. We’re so good together like this. We know our roles. We know instinctively what the other wants. If we can find this clarity, this amazing synergy, beyond the physical side of our relationship, then there’s no limit to how incredible we can be together.
He pulls away a little. ‘Do you trust me again?’ he asks against my mouth, his voice husky with emotion. Desire.
‘Mmm-hmm. Yep,’ I manage.
‘Say it.’
I claw my fingers through his hair, understanding that it’s as important to him that I absolve him as it was to me that he apologised. ‘I trust you. I mean, I trust you to try, and I trust you to listen and respect my wishes if you step out of line again.’
‘Good.’ He kisses my lips, and it’s dreamy and gorgeous and otherworldly. ‘Because I have something else to say.’