This Woman Forever

Chapter 26

I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow—I’m putting that down to mental exhaustion—and I don’t come round until morning. But I don’t open my eyes, too content with the feel of my hand on Ava’s tummy and the feel of her light fingertips tracing every inch of my body. Inevitably, she works her way down to my scar and lingers. Thinking, I suppose. Reflecting on what she’s learned.

“Have you finished feeling me up?” I ask, the old wound tingling.

“No,” she whispers. “Just be still and silent.”

“Anything you say, lady.” I sigh and sink deeper into the sheets, happy to oblige and feed her monster.

Her breath tickles my lips. “Good boy.”

“What if I want to be a bad boy?”

“You’re talking,” she says, making my lips tug, my eyes no longer willing to be deprived of her morning beauty. The vision of her wakes everything up, and I take her all in, scan every gorgeous inch of her smiling face, my sleepy eyes blinded by her perfection. “Morning,” she whispers, her dark, lusty eyes locked with mine.

Oh, I can see what’s coming a mile off. I move her onto her back, smiling at her breathy gasp of shock, and pin her to the bed, my body resting gently on hers. Now how am I going to handle this? I’m not an egomaniac, but I am a realist.

My dick is massive.

And I’m not sure how I feel putting it so close to my growing babies. Poor little things would be terrified if they saw that hurtling toward them. I’m also not sure how I feel about abstaining. Well, I do. Horrified. So, as I have in recent weeks, I’ll be careful. Gentle. Slow. And Miss Insatiable will accept that. “Someone has sleepy sex on their mind,” I whisper, having a brief nibble of her nose.

“No,” she breathes happily. “I have Jesse Ward on my mind, which means I also have various degrees of fuckings on my mind.”

It’s as I thought. Fucking. “You’re insatiable, my beautiful girl.” I kiss her with conviction, hoping hard in that department quenches her greed. I’m a fool. “Watch your mouth.”

She’s quick to respond, her tongue invading, setting the pace. Or her pace. Oh no. I need to set the bar, take control, make sure she understands the limits. Hard fucking is off the table, and that’s non-negotiable.

Pulling away, I ignore her slighted state. “I’ve been thinking.”

“What about?” she asks, slight making way for worry.

“About how dramatic our married life has been.” Dramatic? That feels like a bit of an understatement.

“Okay,” she replies slowly, obviously bracing herself for where this is leading. Surely, after literally being run off the road yesterday, she’s expecting this. We haven’t even talked about what happened. I need to find things out, and I’m not comfortable with Ava being in the city with all these question marks hanging over us. I can’t have Ava in danger again. And I don’t want her to worry. Stress. It might be a tall order, but I’ll do my best.

“Let me take you away,” I say in a rush, making my eyes big, round, adorable and, hopefully, irresistible. “Just us two on our own.” The police will have to wait to interview her, but it doesn’t mean I can’t give Steve all the information they need to start investigating this.

Ava smiles, and it’s not what I expected at all. “We’ll never be alone ever again,” she says quietly, prompting me to glance down at her tummy. Never alone again. How wonderful does that sound?

I shift and quickly kiss her belly, then get back to convincing Ava we need a break. Her eyes when I return mine to them are sparkling with happiness. Acceptance. “Let me love you,” I whisper. “Let me have you to myself for a few days.”

“What about my job?” she asks, immediately throwing an obstruction in our way.

“Ava,” I say softly, forcing myself not to stamp down my authority. “You were in a car accident yesterday.” Please don’t make a battle of this. I need to keep my family safe.

“I know.” Her body softens beneath me, the fight leaving her. “But I have appointments and Patrick is?—”

“I’ll sort Patrick.” Problem solved. “He’ll deal with your appointments.”

“Sort Patrick or trample Patrick?” she asks, full of suspicion.

“I’ll speak to Patrick.” Pay him well, and the old money grabber will accept keenly.

“Delicately.” Her hands push into my shoulders, her face expectant.

“...ish,” I say around a smile.

“No, Ward.” Shaking her head, she becomes as stern as I’ve ever seen her. “No...ish about it. Delicately. End of.”

Maybe. Depends if he takes the money quietly. “Is that a yes?” Without a sense fuck? I’m staggered. Not that she’d get a sense fuck in her condition. Which means I need to start getting better at talking sense into her. Like now.

“Yes,” she breathes, as if exasperated by me. Who is she trying to kid? She wants some alone time as much as I do. It’s a big win. Her job isn’t a priority right now, and that feels good. “Where are we going?”

Good question. Subconsciously, I didn’t think she’d agree, therefore I didn’t plan that far ahead. I get up off the bed. There’s no time to waste. She might realize she’s being reasonable and retract. “Anywhere, I don’t care.” Where the fuck am I going to take her?

“I do,” she blurts. “I’m not skiing.”

I watch as she shoots up from the bed, looking alarmed at the prospect. Is she fucking high? Skiing? While she’s pregnant? “Don’t be stupid, woman,” I mutter, fetching a suitcase from the dressing room. “You’re carrying my babies in there. You’re lucky I’m not chaining you to the bed for the rest of this pregnancy.” I lay the suitcase on the floor, watching a slow formation of a crafty smile spread across her face.

She lifts her hands to the headboard. “You can if you like. I won’t complain.”

It takes everything in me to disregard her blatant tactics. “You’re a temptress, Mrs. Ward. Come pack.” I force my eyes away and take myself back into the dressing room, hearing her mutter indignantly.

I grab a few T-shirts, various shorts, some boxers, dropping them in a pile. And my book. I quickly retrieve it from the drawer I slipped it in last night before I climbed back into bed with Ava.

“Where are we going?” she asks, reminding me that I’ve still got some thinking to do.

“I don’t know.” Scotland? Too cold. The Peak District? “I’ll make a few calls.” I start putting my clothes into the case. “Aren’t you going to pack?” I ask, keeping my eyes on her face and not the rest of her nakedness.

“Well”—she shrugs—“I don’t know where I’m going. Hot, cold? Car, plane?”

“Car. You can’t fly.”

“What do you mean, I can’t fly?”

“I don’t know.” I’ve read something somewhere, amid all the things I read, about flying while pregnant. Problem is, I can’t remember exactly what it said. Do? Don’t? So I won’t take any chances. “Cabin pressure. It might squish the babies.”

She lets out an over-the-top bark of laughter. “Tell me you’re joking.”

Joking? Her face when I look at her is somewhere between amusement and concern. “I don’t joke when it comes to you, Ava. You should know that.”

Reality hits her with a bang. It doesn’t bode well. I can see the end of her equanimity looming. It was good while it lasted. “Cabin pressure won’t squish our babies, Jesse,” she says, a little high-pitched. “If you’re taking me away, you’re taking me on a plane.”

For fuck’s sake, if I’d have told her she couldn’t go on a boat, she’d demand to go on a fucking cruise to prove her point, whatever the fuck that is. Fuck it. I should have said she can’t go on a boat. I should never have sold the yacht. But would the babies get seasick? “It’s not safe for pregnant women to fly.” She won’t listen to me, so perhaps she’ll listen to the book. “I’ve read about it.”

She looks shocked. “Where have you read about it?”

“In here,” I say quietly, holding up the book, scuffing my bare feet on the carpet awkwardly. “You should also be taking folic acid.” The silence is unbearable. I can feel her disbelief. What I don’t know is if that’s disbelief that I’m reading a book about pregnancy, or disbelief about the information I’m giving her. She can see the book, so I’ll go with the information. God damn it, she’s going to make me prove it? I randomly start fingering through the pages, searching for the passages I’ve marked. “Here, look,” I say, showing her. “The Department of Health recommends that women should take a daily supplement of four hundred micrograms of folic acid while they are trying to conceive, and should continue taking this dose for the first twelve weeks of pregnancy when the baby”s spine is developing.” But what it doesn’t state is if that dose changes should the woman be pregnant with multiple babies, like my wife. “But we have two babies,” I muse. “So maybe you should take eight hundred micrograms.” I make a mental note to check that as I flick farther through the book to find the bit I read about flying.

“I love you,” Ava says.

“I know. The flying bit is here somewhere.” Was it no flying at all, or flying to a certain point in the pregnancy? “Just—” I flinch when her hand smacks the book and it drops to the carpet with a slap. What the fuck? I toss Ava a scowl. She’s grinning. What’s so fucking funny?

Then, eyes on me, she throws a foot out and kicks my book a few feet away. Still fucking grinning. Totally uncalled for. “Pick the book up.” She can defy me. But the book?

“Stupid book.” She kicks it again.

“Pick the book up, Ava,” I warn.

“No.”

I realize what she’s doing. Everything before me is screaming for attention. And who am I to disappoint? Like I said, I’m here to serve... “Three,” I say calmly, holding up three fingers. Her grin confirms my suspicions. Greedy.

“Two,” she retorts, surprising me.

“One,” I say around a smile.

“Zero, baby,” she breathes, her body preparing for my attack. I swoop in and lift her onto my shoulder, rolling my eyes when she squeals like she wasn’t expecting it. Her laugh goes straight to my dick as I carry her to the bed and lower her most of the way before dropping her the last few feet. Compromise.

I lay myself on top of her and get my face close to hers. “Lady, when will you learn?”

“Never.”

“I hope you don’t,” I admit, my eyes on her lips. “Kiss me.”

“What if I don’t?”

My God, she’s a case. Yes, no, start, stop, do, don’t. I hold her hip and apply just enough pressure to have her stilling on a sharp inhale. “We both know you’re going to kiss me, Ava. Let’s not waste valuable time when I could be losing myself in you.” I drag my eyes across her face to her wet lips. “Kiss me now.”

I dip, and she lifts, and we come together on a collective moan and equal power. She instantly writhes beneath me, rubbing me in all the right places. “It didn’t really say I can’t fly, did it?” she asks around our kiss.

“It’s logical.”

“No, it’s neurotic. Pregnant women fly all of the time, so you are taking me on a plane to somewhere hot, and you’re going to let my feast on you the whole time.” She bites at my lip, before kissing me some more. “Constant contact.” Another nibble. “I want constant contact.”

Oh, how she pleases me. Is she finally understanding what makes me tick, or is she simply accepting it? Pregnancy is bringing out the best in my wife. I might have to make sure she’s permanently pregnant.

“I can’t fucking wait,” I admit, getting up. “Come on, then. We’re wasting valuable feasting time.” I return to the dressing room and throw the rest of my things into the case, making sure Ava’s is laid out ready for her to pack. Then I head downstairs with my bag and check the calendar on my phone, just to make sure my dates are correct. Amalie’s wedding is this weekend in Seville, which means my parents are out of town. It’s safe. I scroll through the contacts to a number I haven’t called for a long, long time.

Ava wins.

The international ringing tone makes me close my eyes and inhale quietly.

“Mr. Ward?” Jose says, his Spanish accent as thick as I remember.

“Yes, Jose, how are you?”

“Very good, sir, very good. It’s good to hear from you. How can I help you?”

I walk circles around the kitchen island. “How quickly can you have Paradise ready for me?” I wince, trying to mentally calculate how long it’s been since I’ve been there. Years. For the first time, I wonder why Carmichael bought a villa in the place his brother moved to. Dad had nothing but contempt for Carmichael, and eventually me too. Was it a not-so subtle way of making sure Dad could never forget he had a brother, or how successful he was? Did Carmichael buy Paradise out of spite?

“It will need a bit of airing,” Jose says. “It’s not been rented since the renovations completed a year ago, but I stop in every few weeks to make sure everything is in order.”

“Of course,” I murmur. “So how long?”

“I will see if I can get the cleaning team there in the morning.”

“Thank you, Jose. Add it to the management bill.”

“Will you require staff?”

I look over my shoulder, smiling to myself. “No staff, but a delivery of groceries would be helpful. Some ingredients for meals, breakfast, some fruit and vegetables.”

“No problem, Mr. Ward.”

“Thank you. I’ll be in touch tomorrow.” I hang up and call to arrange a flight for tomorrow, then rummage through the boxes that Ava is yet to unpack, remembering seeing her passport in one of them. I email both of our details over to the charter company, then call Peterson.

“Hello, Rococo Union, this is Sally speaking, how can I help you?” the girl in the office answers, and she sounds about ready to call it quits on life. Jesus.

“Peterson, please.”

“Who’s calling?”

“Jesse Ward.”

“He’s out at meetings.”

“Can I get his mobile number?”

“I’m afraid I’m not permitted to disclose Mr. Peterson’s mobile number,” she drones, monotone.

I take a breath of patience. “Can you kindly get him to call me? It’s about Ava.”

“What about Ava?”

“She was involved in a car accident yesterday.”

“Oh my God!” That ignited a bit of passion in her voice.

“Indeed. She won’t be in work today.” Or tomorrow. Or the next day. Or... ever?

“I’ll have him call you, Mr. Ward.”

“Thanks.” I hang up and find Elizabeth’s number. It’s time to face the in-laws. Break the news. I grin.

“Jesse?” she answers, sounding anxious. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, perfect. I’m taking Ava away tomorrow.”

“Ooh, lovely. Where?”

“Paradise,” I say quietly, smiling fondly.

“And where is Paradise?”

“Costa del Sol. But it’s a surprise. Anyway, we fly tomorrow from Bristol. I was thinking of bringing her down to see you before we go.”

“That would be wonderful!”

“Great. We’re leaving soon, so should be with you late afternoon.” I look down at my Rolex.

“We’ll go out for dinner! Joseph, Ava and Jesse are visiting!”

I can’t bloody wait to tell them we’re expecting. “I’ll let you know if we hit any traffic,” I say, my phone beeping to tell me another call is coming in. “Gotta go.” I switch the call. “Peterson.”

“Mr. Ward. Sally mentioned a car accident. Is Ava okay?”

“A little shaken up.”

“Any injuries?”

I squint, thinking. “A few cuts and bruises. She won’t be in work today. In fact, she needs some time off.”

“How much time?”

I don’t like this. Bargaining for my pregnant wife’s recovery time and well-being. “I’m taking her out of town.” Out of the country, actually. “To get away from the chaos of London to recover.”

“Oh, well. Okay. She’ll be back on Monday?”

“Tuesday.” I quickly hang up, calling Peterson a few choice names. I’m done with him. With his company. I need to somehow convince Ava she does not need the pressure of a boss. Not when she has a husband. She can’t be trailing round houses and developments while she’s expecting, especially not with twins. She’ll grow faster. Be more uncomfortable. Every side effect of pregnancy will be doubled. Yet I can’t tell her to quit. That would be a mistake. But I’ve bought myself some time with this mini break, and I’m praying we can find a compromise to this problem called a career. I quickly drop a text to Cathy letting her know we’re out of town for a few days, and then message Kate, just in case Sam’s forgotten to mention it. The phone on the wall rings, and I answer to Casey.

“I have delivery for you, Mr. Ward. Looks like wallpaper.”

“Store it. I have decorators coming tomorrow. Cathy will be here to let them in.”

“Yes, sir.”

I hang up and text Cathy again, letting her know about the decorators coming, then stand and wonder... who else do I need to tell we’re going away?

A distant, consistent thud comes from upstairs and, curious, I make my way to the stairs, finding Ava wrestling her suitcase down them. What the hell?

“Hey.” Is she out of her fucking mind? She startles, and my heart nearly falls out of my chest when she wobbles. Shit, no. I fly up the stairs like a rocket. “What the fuck are you doing, woman?” I bark, incensed, steadying her.

“For fuck’s sake, Jesse,” she yells, and I flinch. “Fucking hell.” Double flinch. “That was your fucking fault,” she snaps.

I start twitching like I’ve been hit with high voltage. “Will you watch your fucking mouth?” I shout, ensuring her stability before I wrench the suitcase up. “Wait there.” I stomp down the stairs, infuriated. “Absolutely zero sense,” I mumble. “Fucking ridiculous. And she thinks working is an option? No. She can’t be trusted to be sensible.” I dump the case and make my way back up, picking her up. “You’ll break your fucking neck, you stupid woman.”

“I was carrying a case.” She scowls at me. “It was you who made me jump.”

“You shouldn’t be carrying anything, except my babies.”

“Our babies.”

“That’s what I fucking said.” I get to the bottom and lower her, checking the footwear situation. Flats. That’s one wise choice she’s made. “No doing stupid shit, lady.”

“How is carrying a case stupid?” she asks, fixing her clothes.

How? Did she miss the breaking news? “Because you’re pregnant.” Lord, send me strength and patience before I explode.

“You’d better rein it in, Ward,” she hisses, wagging an accusing finger. Rein what in? Do I have to read her the list on what pregnant women need from their husbands? Love. Patience. I huff. Why can’t she be—“Cornwall!” she barks.

I chuckle, and Ava frowns. “How many times are you going to threaten me with fucking Cornwall?” There’s not much in this world I’m certain of, except my love for this woman and the hard fact that she would never voluntarily move back in with her mother.

“I’ll go now,” she yells, the volume of her voice making her shake. And perhaps the level of her frustration. She has no idea. It seems I got ahead of myself when I concluded she’s finally accepted my level of commitment to her safety. And now my babies’ safety too.

“Come on then,” I say, serious, collecting her case. “I’ll take you.” I head for the door, smiling to myself. I can’t hear her following. “Are you coming?” I look back, finding her stock-still, eyes a little wide before she corrects it.

“Have you called Patrick?”

“Yes. You need to be back in work by Tuesday.” But I plan on convincing you while we’re away to never return.

She watches me punch in the code for the elevator, and I dial John as the doors close. “I can’t believe you used the countdown as the new code,” she mumbles.

I ignore her. She absolutely can believe it. “Anything?” I ask when he answers.

“Not really. I finally got into the system and checked all the footage. Except the ones that still don’t work near the garages. Fucking security company. Whoever got in came over one of the boundary walls.”

I guide Ava out of the elevator when the doors open. “Let’s get Steve Cook on it.” My eyes narrow when I see the new concierge smile from ear to ear. And it’s not because he’s happy to see me.

“Hi, Ava,” he chirps.

“Mrs. Ward,” I correct him.

“Did you call the police?” John asks.

“Yeah,” I say quietly as Ava starts getting into conversation with the concierge. “They want to take statements.”

“But you want Cook involved?”

“He’ll work faster. Plus, I can talk to him while we’re away.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m taking Ava to Cornwall to see her parents.” I tug her on, and she cranes her neck back, not letting me stop her having a nice morning chitchat with the concierge. “We’re flying to Malaga after we’ve been to tell her parents we’re pregnant.” Silence. To be expected, I suppose. I come to a stop outside the doors of Lusso, smiling at the gleaming Aston waiting for me. “I’m taking her to Paradise,” I add, in case he thought he misheard me.

“I think that’s a nice idea,” he says softly. Approvingly.

“Where are you?” It sounds like he’s in his car.

“She’s not answering my calls,” he says flatly. “Just checking on her.”

“For fuck’s sake,” I breathe, biting down on my back teeth, as if I can stop myself saying the forbidden. Like... offer Sarah her job back. “Let me know.”

“I will. Enjoy it, okay?”

“Yeah, thanks, big guy.” I swallow and open the boot, putting the cases in.

“What’s this?” Ava asks.

“I think it might be a car.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, god,” she huffs. “I mean, where has it come from?”

“It came from a garage to replace mine until it’s located.” I lead her to the passenger side and put her in the seat.

“They’ve still not found your car?”

“No.”

“What’s Steve doing?”

“Nothing,” I say quickly, not liking her expectant eyes on me as I fasten her seatbelt. “He’s looking into a few things for me.” I adjust the part across her tummy, making sure she has room.

“Will you just stop?” She brushes me off and pushes me away, shutting the door quickly. I was definitely getting ahead of myself. This woman doesn’t know how to be reasonable. I didn’t give her the information she wanted, so she’s not going to give me compliance. Very mature. I walk slowly around the front of the car, eyes burning a hole through the windscreen as she follows my path.

I get in, my body bunched behind the wheel. “For fuck’s sake,” I grumble, adjusting the seat and steering wheel.

“Why didn’t we just take my car?” Ava asks, making me falter as I recline the back rest.

“You can’t drive too far.”

“No, but you could.”

What’s her point? “Yes, I could, but I have this now.” I slide my hands onto the wheel, smiling as the engine purrs. I press my foot on the gas and get the usual thrill when the engine yells its eagerness to get going. “Listen to that.” Glorious.

“Where are you taking me, then?”

“I told you, your mother’s.”

“Okay,” she says, exasperated, fiddling with her mobile.

“Give me your phone.” There will be no one else on our break with us, including people on phones.

“I need to call Kate.”

“I’ve called everyone who needs to know we’re going away,” I say, plucking it from her grasp. “Including Kate. Unravel your knickers, lady.” I’m more than surprised that she doesn’t argue. I pull out of the gates, shifting in my seat, readjusting the back rest again.

“I’m excited,” she muses.

I huff a sardonic puff of laughter. “To stay with your mother?”

“Stop it. I know you’d never accept separation while I’m pregnant.”

Or separation ever. “Then why threaten it?”

“Because you drive me crazy.”

I reach across and take her hand, squeezing. “How do you feel?”

“Tired.”

“Then go to sleep.”

“Maybe,” she says, and I smile.

She’s a goner before we make it out of the city.