Page 67 of The Invitation

“No.” He moves closer. “And that’s what I love about being around you.”

“Your lack of control?”

“You’re consuming,” he whispers. “Can you imagine how incredible it’s going to be when I’m finally inside you?” His lips skimming mine has me folding to his power, opening up to him, my head yelling at him to make that happen now.

But the door opens, and Jude pulls away, looking over his shoulder to who’s entered. Anouska sighs.I feel the same, Anouska. He’s exasperating.“You have a call,” she says, holding up a mobile.

“I’m busy,” he counters, continuing with his fun, back to rubbing my hand while I die on the chair with an audience.

Anouska turns her eyes onto me, her intrigue real. I shrug, at a loss. “It’s Rhys,” she says.

That soon wins Jude’s attention. He drops my hand fast and stands, and I rest back in the chair, not for the first time wondering what’s happening. And yet I don’t feel like it’s a question I can ask him. I hardly know him, and yet I’ve never felt this kind of intensity before. I’m not sure how to deal with it, except to succumb to its power.

Oh my God, I’m thinking in circles.

Jude strides toward Anouska and takes his phone as he passes. “Rhys,” he says. “What’s up?”

My curiosity rages as Anouska gets her surprise in check and Callie silently resumes removing my seafoam nail polish. And I don’t stop her. There are so many questions swirling around in my headright now. Who’s Rhys? Is that a man or a woman? Why did Jude react so urgently?

“So nude,” Callie says, smiling up at me.

“Yes, nude,” I reply, sinking farther into the chair.

Just let me do all the thinking.

I wholeheartedly wish I could do that, just surrender to the force of Jude Harrison with no doubts or hesitation. Problem is, I feel like a thousand red flags are being waved in my face.

Chapter 17

After Callie is finished pampering my fingers and toes, I go to the changing rooms.

With my nude nails.

Not that I’m paying much mind to the fact that Jude made his demand and I submitted. My thoughts are still chasing in circles. I lower to a bench, smiling at a lady as she passes in her workout kit, heading for the gym or a class. I need the girls’ thoughts, so I get my phone from my locker, wincing at the missed calls from Mum. All five of them. I check the time. Three hours ago. A message from Abbie confirms my fears.

Your mum’s suspicious. She knew it was you on the phone and she wants to know whose Rolls-Royce you were in and where you were going. I’m avoiding her.

“Shit,” I curse, going back to the seat and tapping my phone on my knee. What can I tell her? I don’t have a chance to think about that, because she calls me again. My face bunches. “Mum,” I say, standing and starting to pace.

Another lady wanders into the changing rooms in her swimsuit, soaked. She stops before me and indicates behind me. “Can I get to my locker?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” I move out of her way.

“Locker?” Mum asks. “Who was that? Where are you?”

“At the gym,” I say quietly, shrinking.

“Oh, and you got there in a Rolls-Royce, did you? What’s going on, Amelia? And hurry up and explain because I have customers waiting.”

I exhale and drop heavily to a bench. I don’t know what I can tell her. That I’m on a date? That’ll lead to all kinds of questions I don’t want to answer, and I know she won’t approve, no matter who I’m on a date with. It’s been only weeks since I walked out on Nick. It would be insensitive to declare I’m dating so soon. It doesn’t matter that this isn’t actually a date. I don’t really know what the fucking hell this is, and if I don’t know, how on earth will I explain it to my mum? And then there’s my father. Hedefinitelycan’t know. Definitely won’t approve.

“Mum,” I say, not wanting to lie to her. “There are some things about my life you shouldn’t know.” What a stupid thing to say.

“Well, now I’m even more worried. Are you in some kind of trouble?”

“God, no. I promise, I’m not in any trouble.” I glance around the luxury changing facilities. That’s not true. I’m in so much trouble. “I’m just taking a bit of time out for myself. Trying to relax.” Silence. That was probably an even stupider thing to say. Since when have I ever been good at relaxing? I’m too busy trying to succeed. On that thought, I roll my shoulders, and I don’t feel one muscle pull. I’m ... loose. “I’m okay, Mum,” I breathe, exasperated by myself.

“Then where are you?”

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