Chapter 9
‘You look so peaceful when you sleep.’
I smell him before I see him, his fresh, minty scent. My eyes open to him gazing down on me, his forearms either side of my head, holding his weight.
He smiles and rests his body down between my legs, the weight of him on my stomach telling me he really is home. I lean into his touch as he brings his palm to my cheek.
‘How was your trip?’ I ask, my words sleepy.
‘Shh, we’ll talk in the morning. Now, I just need to feel you.’
His tongue slides across my top lip and into my mouth, meeting mine. I’ve missed this taste so much. He nudges the tip of my nose with his then moves to my neck, trailing kisses down to my collarbone.
‘My mark is fading,’ he says between delicious presses of his lips against my skin.
‘I don’t need your mark any more; I have you.’ I let my head fall back, giving him full access.
His breath is hot. ‘You do.’
He kisses me in the way that tells me he’s going to make love to me, slow and gentle.
‘Three days felt like forever,’ he mumbles against my skin.
Give him time to work it out. Tonight, in this moment, I think and hope that Jackson could be right. That faith alone is my reason to stay.
‘Up you get.’ Gregory’s holding a cup of hot coffee, staring down at me.
‘Tired,’ I grumble.
‘Ja, well if you will let men into your bed at all hours…’ He hands me the coffee with a wink that would floor me completely if I weren’t already lying down.
‘Don’t you ever sleep? What time is it?’
‘Early. We’ve got a long drive. Chip-chop.’
‘Chip-chop?’ I ask on a raised brow as I swing my legs over the side of the bed.
‘Exactly.’
I chuckle as my South African leaves the room.
I wish playful Gregory could be here always.
Although that would probably mean I’d lose the angry, earth-shattering-style fuckings.
As much as I love sweet Gregory, I think I’d miss those now I’ve had a taste.
Maybe a medley of Gregory’s multiple personalities isn’t too bad.
I hop into the black leather of the Range Rover in my newly purchased country get-up. ‘Just another unnecessary car then?’
‘It’s very necessary. I have a lot of stuff and this has the boot space for a lot of stuff.’
Shaking my head, I strap myself into the seat, feeling like I’m sitting on top of a mountain as Gregory pulls out of the basement car park.
He pushes a button on the cockpit-esque dash and Thirty Seconds to Mars’ ‘Kings and Queens’ blasts through the speakers.
I lean back in my seat and watch him as he settles into a needlessly fast but smooth drive out of the city.
‘It was a week ago today,’ I find myself saying. ‘Should we even be doing this: going away for the weekend, being… normal?’
His knuckles tighten on the wheel. ‘Scarlett, normal is the absolute minimum you ought to have.’
‘We met because I agreed to help you with a hostile takeover. Three weeks ago, my dad was murdered because of that. Seven days ago, I shot a man in the head. And any day now, my boyfriend might be charged for my crime. Which part of that is normal?’
He focusses straight ahead but his expression shifts to one that’s pained.
I rest my elbow on the window ledge, propping up my temple. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I just wish you’d stop telling me what I should have when what you really mean is you think I shouldn’t be with you. I don’t think that, Gregory.’
He shakes his head without moving his attention from the road. ‘You should have better, Scarlett. I just don’t seem to be capable of walking away.’
‘You know what, Gregory? Screw your sense of obligation.’
The car screeches and I grip the edge of my seat as we swing off the motorway onto the hard shoulder. This is becoming a dangerous habit.
‘That’s what you think, Scarlett: that this is all because I feel trapped by circumstance?’
I shrug, looking out of the window at the grass verge, anywhere to stop him from seeing my clouded eyes.
‘That’s not why.’
I turn to him now. ‘Then why?’
He drags a hand over his face. ‘I’m not like other people. There’re things you don’t know about me.’
‘So tell me. Take a chance on me. Let me in.’
He silently opens and closes his mouth, then rests his head back against his seat. ‘I wish you could see what’s good for you. You’re smart, funny and beautiful; can’t that be enough of a reason?’
‘I guess it’ll have to be, for now.’
After two hours, two service station coffees and me feeding Gregory bite-size chunks of apparently the worst smoked salmon and cream cheese bagel he’s ever had in his life – a tad dramatic – concrete has been replaced by increasingly lush green.
He pulls us off the motorway and we wind through roads flanked by hillside and evergreen trees.
‘Where are we?’ I ask, tearing myself from the unfamiliar sight of undisturbed nature.
‘Derbyshire.’
‘It’s so green. Beautiful.’
‘It is.’
‘Then why do you have that look on your face? What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing. I was thinking.’
‘Thinking about what?’
He turns to face me briefly then focusses forward again, taking us through a sharp bend. ‘If I told you, I’d be saying it rather than just thinking it. Defeats the objective, wouldn’t you say?’
A huffy sigh reveals my frustration. I really hope this weekend isn’t going to be antagonistic Gregory the entire time.
After a ten-minute silence of continuous weaving through the countryside, he speaks. ‘This whole thing is quite pretentious, Scarlett.’
‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’ I say on a petulant scoff.
He ignores my childishness, despite the increased tension in his jawline and the tight sinews in his neck that look too damn sexy. ‘There are rules and customs. The only members of the hunt are male.’
‘Are you trying to tell me this will be a chauvinistic affair?’
‘Actually, yes. It can be. I’m going to be with you but just keep your wits about you. The women can be—’
‘Cliquey? Bitchy?’
‘Both.’ He’s deadpan. ‘They like money, they don’t like new faces and they’ll absolutely hate a beautiful young woman.’
I smile inwardly but it’s my concerned look that Gregory finds. ‘You’ve brought me to the lions’ den.’
‘Yes. I always come alone so you’ll be a bit of a surprise to them too. I’m just saying… I don’t know what I’m saying. If they get too much, you can leave them. I’ll be back as soon as the hunt is done and we’ll have a nice dinner tonight.’
His back straightens and his eyes widen as if he’s had an epiphany of some sort. He hits two buttons on the dash and the music makes way for a ringtone.
‘Old boy, where are you?’ It’s Williams.
‘Almost there. Is your sister with you?’
‘She is.’
A sweet voice chimes through the speakers. ‘Hi, handsome.’
‘How are you, Charlotte?’
‘All the better for hearing your voice, Ryans.’
He laughs, a manly and attractive sound. ‘Your purposeful attempt to make me uncomfortable is failing, Charlie.’
A very girly giggle fills the car.
‘I’m bringing someone to meet you today.’
‘Yes, I’ve heard all about your girlfriend.’
Gregory shuffles in his seat. She’s succeeded in her goal. A laugh escapes from my stomach.
‘Hi, Charlie,’ I say.
‘Oh, shit, sorry! I didn’t realise I was on speaker.’
‘Mouth, Charlie!’ Gregory snaps.
‘Fuck, sorry!’
I laugh harder now, my head thrown back against the seat. The feeling is a relief from days of angst.
‘Charlotte, that’s enough,’ Williams says, though his smile obvious in his voice.
‘Charlie, can you just show Scarlett the ropes today?’
‘Yes, of course. I’ll keep her away from the pack hounds; that’s what you’re actually asking, isn’t it?’
He relaxes. ‘She can look after herself but you know what it’s like when a new hound infiltrates the group.’
My jaw hits the floor in shock. ‘Am I a hound in this scenario?’
‘I think we’ll go. See you both soon.’ Charlotte’s amusement is clear in her tone.
‘That didn’t come out right.’
‘I should hope not, Mr Ryans.’
He shoots me a sideways glance and a smirk. ‘You’re hot when you’re angry.’
I fire him my fiercest playful pout. This is better than fighting.
We round another tight bend and the top of a most extravagant stately home comes into view.
‘Wow.’
The stone building is as big as a palace.
Maybe even bigger. The top of each pillar is decorated with a small, gold dome and each of the multitude of windows is framed in gold too.
The courtyard veers off to rows of stables and a huge fountain trickles in the middle of the open space.
I look right as water shoots high into the air and sprays down into a lake beside the house.
Gregory drives up to large, iron gates. ‘Ryans,’ he says into the intercom. We drive a gravel path, passing stone gargoyles and lions, climbing towards the magnificent building. ‘Welcome to your home for the night.’
‘We’re staying here?’ I gasp, my head still turning around the huge expanse of grounds and the enormous structure towering over us.
Gregory pulls the Range Rover into a spot on the gravel then stretches his arms back over his headrest. The exposure of his toned chest draws my eyes away from our surroundings.
‘Like what you see?’ he asks on a grin.
I nod and my dry lips part. He grabs my chin between his index finger and thumb and brushes his lips over mine on an inhale. His familiar scent and the feel of his soft, smooth flesh drive my senses wild.
‘I don’t want to fight with you, baby. I just want to spend time with you, away from London, the apartment, all of it.’ He nuzzles his brow against mine, our noses melting.
‘Okay.’