Page 47 of The Passion

The muscles in her back are switched on, and her shoulders are hunched up under her ears. This is not what a relaxed woman who is finally about to give in to her desires and spend the night with the man she has been pushing away should look like. Just standing and watching her for a few minutes, she isn’t moving, and seeing the speed her chest is rising, her breathing is too fast for someone in a peaceful state. As much as I tried to use the shower to shake my anger, it’s still there bubbling away furiously under the surface.

Not really being able to tell if she is crying silently or sleeping, I make my way around to the other side of the bed so I can see her face.

And just like the rest of her body, there are worry lines across her forehead and no smile in sight. But her eyes are shut, and although she might not be crying now, there are still wet streamlines down her cheeks, the evidence that she has been while I was in the shower. Every essence of my upbringing tells me how wrong it is that an almost forty-year-old woman is crying herself to sleep from something her father has done to her. I can’t imagine how hurt she feels deep in her soul.

Has she ever had a man in her life who truly wants to take the weight of her life for her for even a moment? To just let her breathe and not feel like she has to fight every single battle.Someone to protect her, support her, and walk beside when she needs them, ready to step in front of her when she asks. Because I’m damn sure her father has never been that man for her.

Well, that changes tonight.

She’ll never be alone again.

Dropping the towel to the floor, I gently pull the covers on my side of the bed back and slide in next to her. The movement makes her stir slightly, not enough for her to open her eyes but enough for me to take advantage and move her. I shift her onto my arm and pull her head onto my chest, wrapping both my arms so tight around her so she feels secure. As she resettles herself on me, she lets out a long sigh.

“Sorry…” Her mumble is so soft and sad.

“Nothing to be sorry for, princess.” I kiss the top of her head, just trying to reassure her that she doesn’t ever need to feel that with me.

I can hear her breath starting to even out a little more, and after about ten minutes, her body finally starts to relax and mold into mine.

Having her naked body sleeping on top of mine was not how I imagined this day ending. Her arriving at the wedding was so far out of left field, but part of me is pumping up my ego that I was the one person she chose to run to.

I wasn’t sure that I was going to be able to sleep, and after looking down at her to check she is okay and then staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours, I could finally feel my eyelids falling.

And the dreams that I have been having for months are gone, because the reality of my dream is now wrapped up here in my arms.

“But if it shows that I traveled back to London on the Darby private jet, then my father will know my alias is actually me.” Felisha has a concerned look on her face.

“I think you are overthinking this. He is not some super spy or computer wizard.” I’m worried that she is going to slip into that anxious state again.

Instead, she throws her hands in the air and rolls her eyes at me. “Well, he managed to fool us, didn’t he.” She looks so frustrated. I can tell it bugs her as much as it does me that we didn’t work out it was him.

“Don’t even go there.” I answer a little more aggressively than I should have, but just thinking about it sends reams of anger through me.

“Too late, I already did.” She places one hand on her hip while poking a finger into my chest with the other.

“If you don’t believe me that it’s not a problem, then by all means, take the alternative and fly back in economy the same way you got here.”

“God, no!” Her high-pitched squeal tells me how much fun she thought that trip was. I bet that’s the first time she has ever flown on a commercial airline, let alone in economy. “There are too many people, and they touch you. Do you know how small those seats are and how close to each other! They smell, kids are screaming, the food is shit, and you have to share a bathroom with two hundred people. Germ central! God knows how many people have shagged in that toilet.”

I can’t help it, I just start laughing.

“What? What’s so funny?” she snaps, glaring at me.

“So, a normal long-haul international flight.” I remember my first flight to Australia and how cramped my long legs were and how drunk I was when I finally landed in Sydney. I figured if I couldn’t sleep then I might as well try drinking until I passed out. Unfortunately, that didn’t work, and I just got off the plane feeling seedy and so freaking tired. “You can now tick off your bucket list spending a day in the life of an average person.”

“Ughhh.” She pushes me in the chest hard enough that I take a slight step backward but just as quickly step back close to her. “You’re one of them, aren’t you.”

“One of what?”

“A mile-high man, who is proud of screwing a woman in the filthy toilets. I mean, how the hell do you even fit two people in there?”

“It’s doable.” That’s all I’m answering, because I don’t want to have this discussion with her.

“Knew it.” She shakes her head as she slowly drops her head onto my chest. “What am I getting myself into?”

“Oh, you have no idea. Pity it’s too late to back out now.” I lift her head and kiss her softly on the lips. “It’s time to go, and although your body is going to hate you for this, since you only landed twenty-four hours ago, but we need to get to the plane for takeoff. Luckily this time you can sleep, and if you are lucky, maybe you too can join the mile high club.” Winking at her and taking her hand, I lead her to the door of our bungalow and out to our waiting car.

“I’m actually okay with that. The heat and humidity here are killing me, and look at my hair. It’s becoming frizz central without all my products.”

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