Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Maurizio
Iwas meeting with a client who had a pending trial that I couldn’t lose.
I didn’t take loss very well, not even if the odds were stacked against me, but with this one, I would be a laughingstock because nobody should have been able to lose it.
It was full of flaws and loopholes, and I was amazed that the prosecution were still pushing forward with it, but then my client was rich, influential, and I suspected that they wanted to be seen to be serving justice.
To make an example of him in a high-profile way.
The man was an arsehole of the highest order, and I could see the attraction of hanging him out to dry, however, the ones who would come out of this tarnished would be them, not him.
The idiot was now rambling about suing and taking the Crown Prosecution Service to the cleaners. I let him get it off his chest with the occasional nod, but my mind was elsewhere. My mind was at home with Flora.
There was something off with her. Since that night, several weeks before when I had watched her pleasure herself, she had been distant, almost angry in a way.
We spoke still, but it was short, curt, and always related to her work and the children.
She was pissed off with me, of that I was sure, but had no clue why that might be.
Maybe she was home sick or something. I knew for a fact that she was going home at the weekend to see her sister because it was her birthday.
I needed to speak to her and see if there was anything I could do to resolve that because she was amazing with Rosie and Craig and really was the ideal replacement for Bea.
With Flora away and the children having a weekend at the coast with my mother, I was going to be at something of a loss.
Pushing those thoughts from my mind, I focused on Sophie.
We had spoken a few times about her taking Rosie and Craig for an overnight stay.
I had even suggested this weekend and had gone so far as to invite her to stay in my home, her former home, in order to make it easier for them.
She’d declined, although she had seen them a couple of weeks before, one Saturday afternoon we’d met at an adventure playground and called them with a little more regularity.
I didn’t get how she could do this, but then, I didn’t need to.
My job was to be a good father and to give our children stability, a permanent home, continuity of care and most of all, unconditional love.
The last one was the easiest and most natural thing ever.
Returning my attention to my client, I put all thoughts of occupying my weekend, my family and Flora from my mind and focused on work, but decided I was going to cut the day short and spend a little time playing with my children and maybe I’d even get the chance to speak to Flora.
My earlier plan had worked out in part. I had got home and taken the kids to the park and for a long walk through the woods where there were puddles and mud aplenty so lots of jumping around in wellies.
Bea had now dropped a couple of afternoons, so it was only Flora working and I had invited her to join us or to take an early finish.
She took the latter and not only was I fuming and disappointed, but gutted.
She cited the unexpected opportunity to meet up earlier than planned with a nanny friend, not Bea nor Carrie but someone new, Ash, whoever she was.
I had no objection to that, and no right to any either and the thought of her making new friends, her own friends, pleased me because if she was feeling home sick, this might just ease it.
Now, it was late, well, half past nine, and with the children sleeping soundly, I poured a scotch, added some ice and flicked around the TV channels, pausing occasionally on anything that wasn’t reality TV or a soap.
I thought I heard footsteps on the stairs so getting to my feet, I hit mute on the remote control.
Nothing. I was imagining things. Then, I had the sensation that I was being watched.
Turning, I found Flora standing in the doorway wearing a pair of short pyjamas covered in Sylvester and Tweety Pie cartoon characters.
I was more of a Daffy Duck kind of guy, but that cat and bird were growing on me.
Our eyes locked and the sizzle in the air was back. The attraction and promise of something amazing hung between us.
“Sorry,” she said looking sad.
“For what?” I wasn’t aware I was owed an apology.
“For taking the early finish.”
I waved her apology away. As pissed off as I’d been earlier, she had every right to have made the choice she had.
“Would you like a drink?” What the fuck was I doing here?
This was going to be another tell me to stop moment and she would, and I would end up confused and in agony from blue balls that I’d end up taking care of myself.
She sauntered into the room and took the glass from my hand before taking a slug of the amber liquid.
I might just add nights out to her contract because every time she’d been out or more specifically, had a drink, she became confident and unafraid to take what she wanted, whereas when she was stone cold sober, she was nervous and less inclined to speak up.
I watched as she swallowed the liquid. The way her throat moved was seriously fucking sexy and I needed not to think of what I would rather she was swallowing right now.
The moment was broken when she began to choke, coughing and spluttering.
With a short laugh, I leapt to my feet and patted her back, removing the glass from her hand.
Flushed, she pulled a distasteful expression. “It’s whiskey.”
I nodded and fought a grin.
“I don’t like whiskey . . . it burns.”
She threw in a little cough while I laughed out loud.
“Why did you drink it then?”
“Not a clue,” she replied, making me laugh again, and then I stopped.
We were almost toe to toe, she was staring up at me while I gazed down. I found myself becoming lost, drowning in her eyes, and praying that one day I might get the chance to be lost at sea in all of her.
Neither of us spoke, and yet there was noise everywhere, deafening.
I swear I could hear our hearts beating out of our chests and our breathing filled the room.
Reaching down with no thought, I stroked a thumb over her cheek, then lower, down her face and neck until I reached her pulse.
Fuck, it was hammering away, maybe even more rapidly than my own.
I slowly tracked my way back up until my thumb came to rest on her full bottom lip that I traced.
Her eyes filled with something now, a little fear, nerves, but most of all desire. There was no mistaking that.
She allowed her lips to part a little and she breathed out a single word, “Maurizio.”
Fuck! My cock that had been ramrod hard, stiffened further and just her utterance of my name had me all but ready to come right there. I pressed my thumb gently past her lips and found her wet tongue waiting for me.