Page 85 of Duke It Out
And yet even when I was nothing but a bartender in her eyes, she gave herself to me without reservation.
I think of her face when Fenella’s barbed comment landed. The flash of hurt was masked so quickly but not fast enough. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own fears that I missed the obvious, Edie has as much reason to be wary as I do. More, perhaps.
She’s had to fight for every scrap of recognition in a world that’s handed everything to me on a silver platter, regardless of whether I deserved it or not.
My father’s poison, dripped in my ear, the doubt that’s shadowed everything I’ve done since. Every achievement tainted with a whisper as I try to rebuild a legacy that might not even be mine.
And yet despite all my defences I let Edie in. Let her dig through the family archives, read my father’s diaries with their damning secrets and petty cruelties. Worst of all, I let myself need her, this beautiful, brilliant woman who somehow sees the best in this crumbling piece of history.
It should terrify me how close she’s come to breaking through the walls I’ve built. And yet instead I feel something that feels almost like… relief.
Tomorrow will bring complications. The diaries and all their ugly truths will still be there. The responsibility will still weigh on my shoulders. But for now, I allow myself this – the weight of her arm on my chest, the momentary peace of pretending this could be more than it is.
33
EDIE
I open my eyes,and it takes a second before I realise where I am. It’s familiar – the luxury, the discreetly striped wallpaper, the same heavy curtains which we didn’t draw last night so I can see the same view out across the loch I’m used to. But there’s an arm draped over my waist, and as I twist around it’s into Rory’s broad chest.
He’s fast asleep and I realise how long his eyelashes are as I study his face. There’s a smattering of freckles on his nose and forehead and the dark stubble enhances his strong jawline. But he looks younger somehow – unguarded, without the stresses of everyday – and something about it makes my chest twist inside in a way I’m not quite ready to examine.
I slip out of bed. Not to sneak off – although I can’t help thinking of the night we spent in New York, when I woke up and he was gone – but to go to the bathroom. I feel like I’m humming with something almost electric, and I ache all over.
His bathroom is huge and exactly as you’d imagine – masculine, minimal. There’s a separate loo and a huge rolltop bath, the same enormous walk-in shower that’s in all the bedrooms I’ve seen. Nothing out of place. I take a folded towel and switch on the shower, smirking to myself at the memory of my first encounter with the shower head in my bathroom. Now I’ve had the real thing again there’s no going back. I climb inside and close my eyes, letting the hot water soak into my hair.
A moment later I feel a hand on my waist, and I jump in surprise, turning to see a naked and rampant Rory laughing as he pulls me close.
“Who did you think it was?” His mouth is almost on mine.
I shake my head, laughing. “You gave me a fright.”
“I woke up,” he says, his hand slipping between my legs, “and you’d gone.”
“Now you know how I felt in Manhattan.” I quirk a brow at him, cheekily.
I gasp as his fingers part my lips. He holds his hand still, as if he’s contemplating his next move. I shift against him, pushing myself against the ball of his hand, unashamed in my need. He drops his head, and I feel his teeth grazing the skin at the base of my neck.
“Rory,” I gasp. Water is pouring down my face. He looks up at me, his long lashes wet.
“Edie?” He pushes me back against the tiled wall and I gasp at the feeling of the cool tiles against my hot skin. His finger grazes my entrance, and I groan again as his thumb brushes slowly and steadily.
I watch as if I’m in a dream as he bends his head to my nipple and takes it into his mouth, sucking then nipping it gently with his teeth. I widen my stance, pushing myself towards him, and his fingers move inside me, one then twothen three and still his thumb is moving on my clit. His cock is rock hard, and I reach out and take him in my hand. He groans against my breast and the sound of his need does something to me.
“Oh god,” I gasp, and I’m lost.
Half an hourlater I’m sitting on his bed, wrapped in one of the huge white towels.
My whole body still feels like it’s vibrating but my brain is starting to catch up, and I feel almost seasick as the nerves overtake me. My heart seems to be skipping it’s beating so fast, and my palms are prickling. I look at the door, half-wondering if I could just make a run for it and not face the truth.
I shift, my heart knocking hard against my ribs.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” I say, before I can convince myself not to. “About Anna.”
He stills for a second.
“She read some of—she got a hold of my laptop.”
Silence.
