CHAPTER 37
Leo
We’re about to settle down to order food after a few hours of work, when my phone buzzes. I ignore it, but it buzzes again. And again.
‘Someone’s popular.’ George smiles at me, but his face pales as his phone buzzes too and he opens the message.
Mine starts to ring. Rosa Riley.
George’s face is void of any feeling, cold, stern. I recognize it immediately and my heart sinks.
‘George? What’s happened?’
He turns his phone to me. It’s an article in Paris Match, but I don’t fully understand.
George Hampden déclare: ?Mettre fin à ma relation a été la meilleure chose pour ma carrière.?
He flicks another tab up. It’s the Daily Mail.
Cold-hearted and cruel. Tennis star and heartthrob George Hampden says dumping fiancée was best thing he’s ever done.
An anonymous source close to the British number one, known to fans as ‘Mr Darcy’, has exclusively shared the behind-the-scenes information he didn’t want to be revealed in his recent interview with Paris Match.
‘He wasn’t denying that ending things with Olivia Althorne has helped him focus solely on his career.
It’s selfish to destroy someone’s future like that, just for some mediocre success.
He stormed out of the interview after realizing how badly he was coming across.
You can’t blame the love of your life for your failures. He needs to grow up.’
Currently in Paris for the French Open, rumours are circulating that Hampden, 30, has a new woman in tow.
A mystery brunette, seen below, accompanied him to Louis Vuitton’s opening party and was also rumoured to be caught stumbling out of Girafe, the pair surprising fellow diners after leaving a family dinner early.
I scroll down to see a picture of me at La Cavalerie, one of the most special evenings of my life reduced to gossip. I look shocked, eyes wide at the bright flashes. I don’t want to read any more. To see the comments. I know how these things work and it’s not helpful. Best to ignore and move on.
I look back to George, to tell him the same, but find his eyes closed. Hands trembling.
‘George?’
He opens them, staring straight ahead, his face blank. But his breaths are coming quickly now. ‘This. Is why. I hate. Interviews.’ He can barely speak.
His phone buzzes and I see a text from Gordon.
Gordon Hampden:
Have you seen it?
My room now. Damage control.
I toss his phone to the side – fuck him – and take George’s hand in mine.
‘George, I need you to listen to me. You’re OK.’
He’s full-on hyperventilating now, his body shaking. ‘I can’t breathe, Leo.’
I stroke his back, saying firmly but kindly, ‘You’re OK, George. Let’s take some slow, deep breaths, OK? You’re OK. You’re here with me. You’re safe.’ He trembles, but his hand grips mine. ‘In and out, slow and deep.’ He tries, his chest still heaving.
I need to ground him, to bring him back from the edge. ‘You’re OK, George. We’re here together in our suite, we’ll get through this. You will be OK. Everything will be all right.’
His breathing starts to slow.
‘Can I touch you, George?’
He nods and I cup his cheek with my palm, turning it gently to face me.
‘Look at me, George. You’re OK. I’m here.’
His eyes focus on mine and I see a spark return, the blankness fading as he comes back into himself. I let out a sigh as his shoulders start to relax and pull him into me gently, his arms coming around me, circling my waist as his head falls to my chest.
‘I’m so sorry, Leo,’ he says quietly against me, his breaths still choppy. ‘I didn’t say those things.’
‘Of course you didn’t, George.’ I kiss the top of his head, continuing to stroke his back, bringing him back to himself. ‘You’re not who they say you are. Please remember that for me.’
‘They twist everything. So personal. Intrusive.’ He’s still shaking slightly. ‘Who’s their anonymous source? Nobody was there.’
He snuggles into me further and we sit in silence again, our breathing even until a harsh knock disturbs the peace.
‘I’ll go.’ I detangle myself from him and head to the main door of the suite.
I crack the door and see Gordon on the other side, tapping away at his phone.
‘George –’ he looks up – ‘oh it’s you.’ He resumes typing, moving forward. I stand my ground at the door.
‘How can I help, Mr Hampden?’ Overly polite, despite the disgust roiling in my stomach at this awful man.
‘You can’t, Miss James. No restaurant bookings tonight.’ He tries to push past, still looking down before realizing I’m not moving. ‘What are you doing?’ He tries to stare me down.
‘George isn’t available right now.’ I’m polite, calm. ‘But I’ll tell him you stopped by.’
‘George isn’t available?’ he sneers. ‘Just let me through, he’s my brother.’
‘Now he’s your brother?’ I can’t help myself, but I lower my voice, not wanting George to know what I heard in the players’ lounge. ‘What about earlier, when you were telling him how pathetic he was? How he needed to grow up?’
‘Don’t talk about things you don’t understand. You silly girl.’ He rolls his eyes, huffing. ‘This is serious and I need to speak with him.’
‘Then he’ll message you when he’s ready.’ I go to shut the door, but he shoves an arm against it.
‘You’ll regret this.’ His eyes are full of anger, disdain. ‘I mean it. You’re nothing.’
He looks like George, but has none of his warmth or charm. None of the love that I see when I look into his eyes. It makes him unattractive, sinister. I think in that moment that I don’t hate many people, but I can’t stand him.
My hand trembles, but I stand my ground. ‘Please remove your hand from the door, Mr Hampden.’ He retreats slightly and I take the chance to shut it firmly, locking it behind him. I listen at the door, until I hear him walk away.
Goodbye and good riddance. I give the closed door the finger, but an uneasy feeling settles in my stomach. I don’t trust him at all; he’s nasty, desperate.
I shudder and return to George, shaking off the feeling, focusing on making him better at all costs.
He’s sitting quietly when I walk back into the room. ‘Who was that?’
‘It was Gordon.’ He nods and I continue, trying to lighten the mood. ‘I hope you don’t mind but I politely told him to do one.’ I bite back a smile, but release it when I hear his soft laugh, followed by a sigh.
‘God, I love you, Leo.’
I freeze. Of course, he doesn’t mean it like that. But he’s looking at me like he might one day, his eyes soft.
He rises up as I walk towards him and takes my hand. ‘Nobody has ever told my brother to leave me alone, has stood up for me in front of my mother. Looked after me or cared to know me beyond anything superficial. They want the money, the name. Not me.’
My mind goes into overdrive, but I breathe slowly, taking in his words, the moment.
‘You don’t have to say anything back. I know it’s a lot.
And really fucking soon, but I think I’m falling for you too, Leo.
’ He kisses my hand, his eyes boring into mine, intense now, searching.
‘In fact, I know I am,’ he says quietly.
‘Thank you, for everything.’ He kisses me softly on the mouth, but it’s full of emotion. It’s too much . . .
‘And stop freaking out.’ He laughs. ‘You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know that this isn’t just some fling for me. I really like you. I like myself with you. You’re honestly incredible.’
He kisses me hard now, short-circuiting my brain, cutting through my thoughts. ‘And you’re hot as fuck.’
My answering laugh is interrupted by a searing kiss and I lose myself in his taste, his smell, his strong arms as they circle my waist, pushing me against him. I feel him hard against my stomach and it sends a lick of pleasure through me, flaming my core.
George Hampden is falling for me. For me.
He breaks away suddenly, leading me towards his bathroom. ‘Come with me, I want to shower this evening off.’ His voice is playful now as he strips off his shirt. I’m suddenly distracted by his rippling abs, his arms flexing as he bends to take off his socks. ‘Will you join me?’
I nod, still mute, and he moves behind me, twisting me gently as he brushes my hair off my shoulder, slowly unzipping my dress until it slides to the floor. I turn, revealing everything to him.
‘Beautiful.’ He looks at me almost reverently. ‘You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Leo.’
He gathers me into his arms, picking me up as if I weigh nothing and carrying me into the bathroom, kissing me as he strides along, his full lips hot, my breasts pressed against his warm, hard chest. I can feel his heart hammering, the rapid pace matching my own, and I kiss him back with everything I have, unable to vocalize how I feel, but wanting him to know that I’m there too.
He moans softly as he feels the change, like he understands what I’m trying to say, how I feel. We’re both pouring it all into our kisses, laying it out in the way we touch each other, the soft sounds we make, the closeness we need.
He leaves my mouth, putting me down as he bends, trailing kisses along my jaw, my neck, my collarbone. His hands move down to my behind, kneading softly, and he groans. I feel a rush of wetness between my thighs knowing I elicit that response.
My body, but also me. He’s falling for me. I shiver.
He continues to kiss downwards, moving to his knees. He’s so tall he can still reach my breasts, and he takes one in his mouth, licking my nipple as I moan loudly at the shot of pleasure that runs through me. They’re so sensitive and he dots small kisses before licking the other one too.
He moves lower, lips against my soft stomach, before gripping my arse tighter, almost painfully as he reaches the apex of my thighs. He licks once and I moan so loudly I blush.
‘Fuck.’ He stops abruptly, his eyes glazed but predatory and I moan again, this time in frustration. He rises up, winking at me as he switches on the shower; it’s huge and reminds me of mine.
I think of him in that space. Us, there together. Sharing it with him. He fits.
His rough voice shakes me from my thoughts.
‘Get in the shower, Leo.’