Page 35 of The Wrong Promise

“I decided not to have Hayley email the details. Instead, we could have a conversation about it.”

She glances up with a frown firmly set on her pretty face. “Since we’re adults, I’m sure we can discuss it without it being in writing,” she says sarcastically.

“Business partnerships are made by signatures at the bottom of the page,” I remind her.

She rolls her eyes. “I guess you’re going to have to trust me.”

There is my problem.

“I trust your honesty,” I say, pausing because vulnerability isn’t a comfort zone of mine, but after the way I made her feel last night, this needs to be said. “It mustn’t beeasy to share the fact that you don’t want children. I understand that many people hold the deluded belief that you are less of a woman without children. I don’t think that at all. In fact, one of the things that attracted me to you was we both agreed we didn’t want babies.” I take another bite.

Zara ogles me. “You find that attractive?”

“I found it refreshing we had something in common. Penny’s baby weekend was a nightmare for you. At dinner, you hadkill me nowwritten all over your face.”

“It w-wasn’tthatbad,” she stammers.

“Zara. It has nothing to do with you being a good friend and everything to do with you wanting to find happiness elsewhere.” She nods slowly as though this is something she struggles with. “If you believe babies should be a topic of conversation, then maybe we should plan what we’ll reveal about our future at the next dinner.”

“Which is when?”

“Friday night.” She chokes on her food, and I raise a brow. “Is there a problem?”

Her expression turns desperate. “I thought you were here for one week a month?”

“On average.” Where is this going?

“I’m heading to a beach house on Friday with my friends.”

“Zara. If I need you, then it’s a priority. It’s not a big ask. You canpartywith your friends anytime.”

“Don’t make it sound like I party all the time. It’s Sandbanks, and they don’t do this every weekend. It’s about fitting in with my new friends.”

How do I make Zara understand she doesn’t need other people to fit in? She has a magnetism about her that pulls people toward her. I’m beginning to understand these friendships are important to Zara to feel better about herself. I don’t understand it, but moving forward, I’llsupport her. “So we go to dinner then I’ll drive you to meet your friends early Saturday morning.”

“You’ll drive all that way?”

I grin at her. “It’s what boyfriends do.” Our eyes meet and lock and fuck, with one look, I’m being drawn closer to her and into her world.

“I feel bad asking you to do that.”

“We’re both making sacrifices.” I also want to check out her friends but not for Sir James’ benefit.

Pouring a whiskey, I move to the couch, making room for Zara as she grabs some chocolate from the shelf before sitting beside me. “London has the best chocolate in the world,” she says with a mouthful. “I keep it on my tongue and let it melt.”

Christ. If these conversations continue, I’m going to need fucking earplugs because now I’m thinking of where I could put that melted chocolate for her to lick. “Let’s move on to the details of our relationship. Timelines. Anniversaries. Future plans. What we both like and dislike.”

She springs up from the couch as though I’ve upset her. “I’m going to need a fuck ton of chocolate for this conversation.”

Forget the earplugs. Give me a damn eye mask so I don’t have to look at her mouth sucking the chocolate.

Friday night,we walk into the penthouse after dinner, and I head straight to the bar to pour myself a whiskey. Zara heads to the room to slip out of her gown.

Sir James has taken a liking to Zara, and his wife, Natalie, chatted to Zara like they had known each other for years. With it only being the four of us, the night went better than I anticipated.

Standing in front of the glass doors leading to the terrace, I stare out to the Parliament houses. We have a gala ball in early December, two months from now, and it’s probably the last formality for Zara to attend. It should be a relief, but I’m finding excuses for us to stay together for longer.

I stare into my glass and swirl the golden liquid. London has become a sexual nightmare. At dinner, Zara tested my limits. Her acting, every touch of my thigh, and fuck-me-now look in her eyes crossed boundaries. My head is foggy. My dick’s fault.Mystupid idea, so I am the one to blame. It doesn’t help that the only taste my dick wants is the one fuck I cannot touch.

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