Page 64 of The Surrender
“I’ll have my assistant make a lunch reservation and email you the details. Look forward to it, Amelia.”
She cuts the call, and I sit back in my chair, my smile wide, feeling so much calmer. “Yes,” I hiss, performing a ridiculous fist pump that I woulddiebefore doing in public.
“Fuck!” The distant curse has me looking at the door, and, curious, I get up and pull it open. Leighton’s storming down the corridor, cursing his arse off.
I peek down at my phone when it dings.
Done. For future reference, threatening abstinence is a hard no for me.
I grin and close my door, hearing my computer ping. Rounding my desk, I smile when I see an email from Leo Lombardy.
The stars are aligning.
Chapter 15
As I walk out of my building, a call comes in from Nick, and I cringe as I reject it, wondering—and worrying—about how I’m going to tell him. And when. I can’t file away that responsibility forever. Wish I could. I squint at the screen of my mobile, thoughtful. Maybe ...
I start to type out a message to him. Stop. Delete it. Start again. Stop again. Delete it again. “Shit.” I stuff my phone in my bag. I can’t tell him via text. I owe him more than that.
My feet slow.I owe him.Do I? Do Ireallyowe him? I sigh to myself. I can’t let him find out how he found out last time. God damn my father; I wouldn’t be in this situation if he’d kept his nose out.
I head to the corner and scan the street, looking for Jude or any of his cars. Where is he? A horn sounds, startling me, and his black Ferrari pulls up, the passenger window sliding down. I dip, seeing Jude in the driver’s seat. His eyebrows are on the ceiling of the car. I won’t thank him for actually listening to me. He shouldn’t have accepted that meeting in the first place.
“How was your day?” he asks.
“After dealing with the wayward man in my life, it was a good day.”
He pats the passenger seat next to him. “Come tell me about it.”
I get in and settle beside him in the leather sports seat, but before I can even think to open my mouth and share my work news, Jude’s dragging me across the car.
“Whoa.” I laugh, my legs getting bent at all kinds of uncomfortable angles, my dress hampering my already limited movement.
I land on his lap, my back pressed up against his steering wheel, blowing my hair out of my face. Intent swirls in his eyes as he slips his hand onto my nape and pulls me onto his mouth. I’m all in, straddling his thighs, pushing my chest into his, feeling his hands stroke across my backside. I ignore the various car parts poking me in various places and hum my happiness, running my hands across his rough face, letting my tongue lap gently with his.
It takes everything in me and more not to haul him back onto my lips when he slows our kiss, eventually breaking it. I lick my lips and lean back, spending a few moments absorbing his face.
“What?” he asks, squeezing my arse.
“I think I fancy you more each time I see you.”
“Same.” He gives me a chaste kiss. “How’s your hand?”
I flex it, the bandage starting to annoy me. “A little sore.”
He helps me back across the car to my seat. “Alright?”
“Yeah,” I grunt, my leg at an obscene angle. “This car is really sexy, but it’s not built for sex.” I drop into my seat and blow my hair out of my face again.
I look at Jude. He’s smiling brightly. “So, tell me about your day.”
“Tilda Spector wants to meet me for lunch next Wednesday.” I bite my lip, my eyes surely dancing.
“And she’s the woman who’s retiring and off-loading clients, right?”
He listens. “That’s right.”
“That’s fucking great, baby.”
