Chapter 33
Chapter thirty-three
Amy
“Remember, you’re turning left at the top of the stairs,” Ivan says as we climb up toward the huge red and white airplane. I chuckle. He’s told me this five times already. “There’ll be a dark curtain pulled across, you have to tell…”
I stop on the metal stairs and turn to face him.
“What are you doing?” he says. People have ground to a halt behind him. I take his face between my hands, my lips locking on his.
“Ivan, I know I have to tell the air steward that I’m in first class. I know I have to turn left at the top of these stairs. And,” I pause, “I know they will hold a curtain open for me to walk through into the wonderful land of Oz.”
He scowls.
“You’re right behind me. I have no concerns about getting lost.”
“What’s the hold up?” a man at the bottom of the stairs shouts.
“Just telling my boyfriend how I can’t wait to suck his dick in our first-class seats,” I call back.
Ivan’s eyes pop open, and there is a gasp from the travelers waiting behind us. Without another word, I climb the remaining steps.
Previously, the thought of spending eleven and a half hours on a plane would be torture, but flying first class changes everything. After turning left and walking through the magic curtain, I’m brought to an abrupt standstill.
The cabin glows with quiet, obscene luxury. It’s breathtaking and overwhelming.
Ivan’s hand settles on the small of my back as he directs us to our respective seats. We each have our own private pod complete with a leather armchair, window, minibar, and privacy screen. I settle myself down, pop on my headphones, and enjoy the flight with all the delights on offer.
By the time we touch down in Thailand, I’m fully refreshed and buzzing with anticipation.
A gentleman in a suit is waiting for us in the arrivals lounge.
“Mr. Harley,” he says, extending his hand in greeting. “It’s a pleasure to have you with us, sir.” Ivan takes his hand and nods. “Unfortunately, we’ve had an incident at the villa. I’m certain you won’t be able to stay there. We will need to find you some alternative accommodation.”
Ivan’s eyes narrow. “When did this incident happen?” he asks curtly.
“While you were in the air, sir,” the man replies. “A housekeeper left a canister of cleaning product too close to a naked flame. It exploded and caused damage in the kitchen due to the fire spreading fast.”
“Was anyone hurt?” Ivan says, and something softens in my chest. For such an intense and direct person, sometimes he takes my breath away with his kindness.
I used to think he was a selfish and egotistical arsehole. He can still be both of those things, but deep down, under the armor, I know he has a heart of gold.
“No, sir.”
“Good. Well, let us get to the villa and we can sort alternative arrangements.” The gentleman nods and gestures for us to follow him.
Ivan takes my hand as we follow. His thumb strokes over my knuckle, natural and unconscious, borderline intimate.
A long black limo waits for us outside. Our escort opens the rear door and we climb in, before he gets in the driver’s seat himself. We sit in the back of the luxurious vehicle, our hands still intertwined.
The scenery flies by as we head toward an unknown destination.
To my right, there’s an aquamarine ocean extending from the white sands, the sunshine glistening off its surface.
Small wooden boats bob in the water near the tidal edge.
On my left are rugged dark rocks interspersed with tall green trees.
The contrast startling. It’s like something out of a travel brochure.
After thirty minutes, we pull up to a property surrounded by a high metal fence. Along the top, there’s barbed wire to fend off intruders.
Huge steel gates open as we approach, and we weave our way down a winding track edged with gigantic trees. At the bottom of the road stands a vast white villa, but the end of the house facing us is tinged black.
“It’s worse than I thought,” our driver says, almost to himself. Ivan and I sit silently in the back of the car, him still stroking the back of my knuckles.
The car stops with a soft rumble, right before the red-tiled steps that lead to the door.
“This is the kitchen,” the man says. “The windows are blown out, scorch marks everywhere. I’ll go investigate, sir.”
Ivan grunts, jaw tight. The tension within him is palpable, and I can feel its subtle shift.
Our driver makes his way to the property, and a small Thai man dressed in blue silk meets him at the door. They have a short conversation, then our escort returns.
Ivan opens his door and steps out onto the driveway to speak to him. I wait in the car for instructions, unsure what to do. A few minutes later, Ivan opens my door.
“Amy,” he says, “they have guest accommodations we can use this evening until I get something sorted. It’s down on the beach. Do you want to come and see if you’d be happy there?”
“Of course,” I say as I undo my seatbelt. “I’m sure it will be perfect.”
As I step out, Ivan retakes my hand. He’s touched me constantly since we left the plane. Either his hand on my back or fingers wrapped in mine, it’s heartwarming and terrifying.
This was supposed to be a no strings attached relationship, but his actions say otherwise. There’s an intimacy there, one which reminds me of my ex-husband and the way he cared for me. It makes me nervous.
I’ve had my heart smashed to pieces before by a man who treated me beautifully. It could happen again.
The thought of a sexual relationship with limited feelings had been a welcome one. The fact I hated this man should have made it easier to have my needs met, but not require giving him control of my heart. But things are changing between us; I can feel it.
We follow the short man in blue silk through a stunningly manicured garden, amongst the perfectly pruned trees and along a shrub-lined twisting stone path. Every so often, flowers provide an explosion of pink or orange. At the very bottom, we step onto white sand.
“It’s just over here,” the man says, gesturing to a cluster of trees that block the view. I slip off my sandals; the sand wraps around my toes, burning a little. The sound of the waves lapping the beach is the only music.
“This doesn’t look very promising,” Ivan mutters. “It’ll be a bloody beach shack.”
“Oh, don’t be such a snob,” I whisper, punching his arm. “We can still have sex in a shed.”
“I thought you had higher standards, Ms. Corrigan.” He smirks and raises his eyebrows. “If I knew I could take you to Brighton and still get laid, I’d have saved myself a fucking fortune.”
“I wasn’t fucking you when you bought this trip,” I remind him. “I hadn’t decided if I was going to yet.”
He stops and kisses me softly; my lips part automatically, letting his tongue touch mine.
“Amy, both you and I know this is more than fucking.”
My brain misfires. I’m feeling it too, but never did I think he would admit it.
“I’m here with you because I want to create a life with you. Being without you isn’t even worth thinking about.” Tears fill my eyes. “I don’t do or go anywhere I don’t want to be.”
“Ivan, I—” He stops my words with a finger on my lips.
“Let’s go see our shed. You know how I feel. You can tell me how you feel once you’re ready.”
Our guide waits for us quietly by the trees. His eyes fixed on his toe tracing circles in the sand. “Come on,” Ivan says, wrapping an arm around my waist.
As we step around the leafy barrier, a rocky cliff appears. Cut into the sheer surface, there are two small windows and a narrow door. Ivan glances over, and I shrug my shoulders. Candles flicker in the windows, giving it a welcoming appearance.
“Is this the guest accommodation?” Ivan asks. Our guide nods. “A shed would have been better,” he mumbles.
“Don’t be such a spoilsport,” I whisper as we walk toward the small door in the gray rock.
Ivan pushes it open; he needs to duck not to hit his head. There’s a small step down into the cave house, and we both miss it. We stumble forward together, clutching at each other and laughing.
Inside is the quaintest space I’ve ever seen.
The walls are bare rock coated in a clear lacquer, multicolored rugs sporadically hanging as decoration.
A massive corner sofa drowns in eclectic cushions, filling the room, sitting on a deep pile blue rug.
On my left, there's a small, clean, and modern-looking kitchen.
“Where’s the bedroom?” Ivan asks, and the man gestures to a gap in the rock.
Deep inside the cliff, with no windows or doors, is the bedroom. It’s surprisingly large, the hard surface cut away to give height to the space. A double bed sits as the central focal point, covered in brightly colored throws and cushions.
Behind it, a headboard extends up the wall to the ceiling, and intricate carvings of fruit and plants decorate the wood. Soft uplighters are built into the edges of the room, giving the space a warm glow.
The only other pieces of furniture are a heavy wardrobe placed beside the doorway leading to a modern bathroom and a small dressing table.
“It’s beautiful,” I say, stunned.
“It’s not exactly the Ritz,” Ivan mutters, and I giggle.
“No, but it’s unique.” He stares at the odd scene, his mouth hanging open in astonishment.
“This isn’t what I had in mind,” he says. “I’ll sort out a hotel in the morning.”
“No, I want to stay here. We can walk out onto the beach in the morning and listen to the birds in the trees.”
“We can do that in a hotel.”
“Yes, but here…” I pause, then rise on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Here, we have complete privacy. No one for miles.”
“One night, Amy, and if I don’t like it, we’ll move to a hotel. You say we have privacy; I say we are the perfect victims of a python looking for its dinner.”
I laugh out loud.
“I don’t think you get tigers at the beach.”
“Never say never,” he says petulantly.
The guide clears his throat. “Excuse me, sir. Would you like me to bring your cases down?”
“Yes, please,” Ivan responds. He focuses on me and rolls his eyes. “It looks as if we’re staying. What’s your name? Apologies for not asking earlier. It’s been a long day.”
“My name is Adisorn, sir.” He bows his head in Ivan’s direction.
“Thank you, Adisorn. Please bring our cases down.” Ivan reaches into his pocket and pulls out a few coins, then hands them to Adisorn.
“Eternal gratitude, sir,” he says before he scurries off on his duties.
When we’re alone, Ivan turns to me. “You’re sure you want to stay here?”
I step closer, resting my hands on his shoulders. My heart pounds. He’s a beautiful man, probably the most gorgeous man I’ve ever been with. No wonder there is a line of broken-hearted women before me.
“What is it?” he asks.
“I’m just taking this all in,” I say.
“All what?”
“This.” I wave my hand around my head. “You, me, this holiday, what we have together. It’s all so unreal.”
“But it is real,” he replies, “and I’m loving every minute of this. Are we using the word this instead of relationship?” I chuckle. “Because that’s what I want, Amy. A relationship with you. A real one.”
Heat floods my cheeks. The fear I’ve been pushing away surfacing sharp enough to sting.
“What are you afraid of?” he murmurs.
“I…”
What do I say? Do I tell him the truth? He deserves that at least. He’s being honest with me.
“Terry left me when he was meant to be my soulmate. We’d been together a long time. He was the last person I ever thought would hurt me.” My voice wavers. “And you have a queue of women lining up to be your partner. Most of them more beautiful and more successful than me.”
“But it’s not them I wanted to bring to Thailand,” he whispers, taking my hands. “Look at me, please.”
I lift my eyes.
“It’s you I want. I need to know something though. Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course,” I mumble, not sure whether I want to hear it.
“Do you still love him?”
The air disappears from my lungs as if punched. I shouldn’t be surprised; this man is a bulldozer. He never shies away from awkward situations.
“It’s all right if you do,” he adds. “But I need to know where I stand in all of this. There are feelings swirling around my body that I’ve never felt before. You’ve got me, Amy Corrigan.”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I’ve never stopped long enough to think about it. Part of me always assumed I would. But the pain he caused me in leaving is unforgivable. I’ve never felt so worthless.”
“Do you know why he left?” he asks.
I freeze. We haven’t discussed this.
“Because I can’t have children,” I say quietly. “He left me to start a family.”
Ivan’s face falls, and I snap my eyes away, embarrassed.
“Is that a deal breaker for you too?” All of a sudden, I feel defensive. The words spill hot and fast. “Does the idea that I’m not able to do the simplest process a woman should do repulse you? Does it make me lacking in your eyes too?”
Tears fill my eyes as the familiar shame washes over me. I hate myself for failing in so many areas of my life, but this one hurts most.
Ivan steps forward, wrapping his arms around me. His embrace is firm, certain, a shelter I so desperately want.
“Amy,” he whispers into my hair. “Why would your ability to have children have anything to do with the future I want with you? I want to be with you. Children aren’t a deal maker or breaker. All I want is for you to want me. Everything else, we can figure out.”
I look up at him.
“I’ve fallen hard for you, Amy. This is new territory for me. Please don’t break my heart.”