Page 41 of An Unholy Affair
Her gaze flicked to his lips. ‘Jack…’
Fuck!She wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss her. He dug his nails into his palms, summoning every last whisper of self-control and praying she wouldn’t have the courage to make the first move.
Stepping back, he hardened his expression. ‘You’ve already been to A&E once today. I don’t want to be the cause of a second visit. Please, let me do this.’
‘Oh, yes, sorry,’ she stammered breathlessly. ‘I’m not trying to be difficult. I’m, er…’
Fuck! Don’t be an arsehole.
‘Eveline, it’s not you. You’re per—it’s not you, okay?’ He ran his hand through his hair. ‘I’m sorry. For smashing your picture and for being a twa—tool. You’re far too nice for your own good and I don’t want to see you hurt.’Most of all by me…
She nodded.
He turned away before he reached for her and crouched to pick up the glass. Jesus stared out at him from the frame, his hand raised as if to bless whoever looked upon him, his gaze filled with compassion.
Jack shook his head.Don’t look at me, mate. I’m beyond saving.
Once he’d pickedup the shards of glass, Eveline handed him a newspaper, and he wrapped the pieces carefully before putting everything in the bin. The kitchen was a mess, piled high with unwashed dishes.
‘I’m so sorry about this,’ she fretted. ‘Quite a few people have popped by over the last couple of days and I haven’t had a chance to clear up properly.’
Jack rolled up his sleeves and went to the sink, running his finger under the tap as he waited for the water to warm up. Had none of these people she’d entertained seen her arm and offered to help?
‘Oh no, that won’t work,’ she said. ‘The boiler’s gone. I’ve been using the kettle if I want hot water.’
He turned off the tap, feeling like his head was about to explode. ‘Since when?’
‘Yesterday?’
‘You haven’t had any hot water since yesterday?’
‘No, but the shower upstairs is electric, so I can still wash.’
‘Heating?’
She shook her head. ‘The Aga runs on oil, so the kitchen is warm enough. At night I have a hot water bottle.’
He gripped the edge of the cracked porcelain sink and hung his head as the birds chattered noisily outside. In his mind, he remembered his Monaco apartment with the white leather sofas and paintings he’d done from his balcony. Everything was beautiful there. And everything worked. He imagined opening the bathroom door. Inside, Eveline was lounging in a hot bubble bath and holding a glass of champagne, her vibrant hair piled up on the top of her head. She lifted a hand and blew him a bubbly kiss.
‘Jack?’
He straightened, turning to face her. She was so beautiful it made his chest hurt.
‘Have you rung a plumber?’ he asked.
‘Yes, but they can’t come until Monday.’
‘Monday? What about twenty-four-hour call out?’
Her gaze fell away. ‘It’s too expensive.’
He pulled out his phone.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Getting you a plumber.’
‘But I can’t afford one.’
