Page 56 of The One That I Want

Clearly intrigued, he comes in and sits on the bed. ‘And Tyler is…?’

Evie confided in me, but Tristan is my husband, and everyone knows that spouses and partners are included in the inner sanctum when it comes to secrets.

‘Evie’s soon-to-be ex-boyfriend – well,hopefully, she gives Tyler the Prick the flick. From what she’s told me, he’s been cheating on her.’

‘Ouch,’ he says, recoiling.

‘Yes.’

‘So why engage Marie?’ he asks.

‘I want irrefutable proof – in case Evie wavers from her decision to break it off.’

‘Is she likely to do that, do you think?’

‘I’m not sure. Olivia says she hasn’t done it yet, but that’s understandable. I know how difficult it can be to leave a bad relationship, even when you know it’s hurting you to stay,’ I say, sorrow creeping into my voice.

Tristan reaches his arms out, and I stand and cross to him. He pulls me into his lap and hugs me as I rest my head against his. He knows all about Malcolm, a man I dated for more than two years, a man I thought I loved, but who was actually married the entire time.

‘I’ve invited them over next Saturday night – Evie and Olivia. Jass is coming too, but Shaz and Lauren have plans.’

‘Girls’ night in?’ he asks.

‘Yep. Either to celebrate Evie’s emancipation or continue coaxing her towards it. She deserves so much better, Tris.’

‘Agreed. And I’m guessing I’m not invited to this girls’ night in?’ he asks, lightening the mood.

I lean back and regard him with a smile. ‘You have guessed correctly,MrFellows,’ I say, emphasising ‘Mr’. ‘You and Ravi should do something, since Jass will be here.’

‘I’ll give him a call.’

We watch each other for a moment, then I lean down and kiss him. It’s a soft kiss to begin with, sweet and gentle, but being in Tristan’s arms always ignites me and soon it becomes something else entirely.

Tristan’s tongue parts my lips and touches mine as he pulls me closer, one hand reaching up to cradle the nape of my neck. He falls back onto the bed, taking me with him and our hands start roaming each other’s bodies. He’s tugging my top over my head when we’re interrupted by my ringtone.

We stop and breathless, I look over my shoulder.

‘You should answer that,’ says Tristan, who knows I need to be on call for my clients.

I push off him and put my top back on as I cross to my antique secretary and pick up my phone. It’s Greta. I take a deep breath to help slow my heart rate.

‘Hi, Greta,’ I say cheerily.

‘Hi, Poppy,sosorry to bother you on a Sunday but do you have a few minutes?’

I glance at Tristan, who’s now resting on his elbows, and mouth, ‘I have to take this.’

He winks at me and leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

‘All good,’ I say. ‘What can I do for you?’

The next morning, I call George over to my desk, telling him to bring his laptop. He rolls his chair over and sits, propping his laptop on his knees and looking at me expectantly.

‘What is it? It’s bad, isn’t it?’ he asks. ‘Your face is all… pinched.’

‘Greta’s getting cold feet,’ I reply, ignoring the comment about my face.

‘How do you mean?’

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