Page 89 of Forever Mr Black

“No.”

I can’t help but feel disappointed, and then I immediately feel stupid. I can’t deny he’s had a lot of sex. Something I don’t care to dwell on right now.

“It’s joint first with the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Do I feel better? I’m not sure, but either way, I need to know. “So … who was the other with?”

His brows twitch in confusion. “Is that a serious question?”

“Of course it is.”

“Fucking hell, Sophie. You, of course.” His eyes search my face in disbelief. “That time we’d been to Carluccio’s for Martin’s birthday.” He strokes his fingers across my cheek and smiles at the memory. “You told me you loved me.”

My heart swells with emotion. “The first time we made love.”

“I knew I felt differently about you, but that night, when you told me that, I realised I loved you too. I just didn’t have the balls to say it back at the time. I’d never said it to anyone before. I’d never made love before.”

I heave a contented sigh and wrap myself around him. There’s nothing quite like the feel of his body pinning mine to the bed.

He nuzzles his nose into my neck, and we lie there together, enjoying the quiet, until he says, “Do you believe in soul mates?

“Hmm … I’m not sure. Why?”

He lifts his head and looks deep into my eyes, stroking a finger down my cheek. “I didn’t. Then, I met you. And now, I do. Because you’re mine. We’re meant to be together, you and I. We’re meant to be together for a lifetime. You’re my forever love, Sophie Ward.”

Tears well in my eyes as his words capture my heart. “And you’re mine.”

I close my eyes as he places a light kiss on my right eyelid and then on my left before sliding his lips down to meet mine. He kisses me languidly, his hands in my hair pulling me to him. This … this right here … is true happiness.

We’re lost in one another for some time before his phone beeps on the bedside table.

He groans against my mouth at the interruption but doesn’t stop kissing me.

There’s another beep.

“Should check who it’s from?” I prompt, pulling back.

“It’s my day off.”

“I know, but it could be the hotel.”

He grumbles, knowing that I’m right. He reaches out an arm and picks up his phone, tapping the screen. He scans the text, his frown deepening.

“Is it the hotel?”

He doesn’t reply and puts his phone back down.

“Well?” I push.

“No, it wasn’t the hotel. It was Ash.”

I wasn’t prepared for that reply. Talk about pouring cold water on a situation.

After yesterday, I thought she would have got the message loud and clear.

“Why? What the bloody hell does she want?”

“She asked how Mum is. And she asked if I was still going to give her a lift to the car garage, like we’d arranged.”

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