‘I know but that’s more than enough time. I’ve planned a lot of events, Scarlett. I will make this the best day of your life.’
It will be but because I’m marrying the man I am 100 per cent besotted with, not because Lara is planning what looks like the wedding of the century. She turns the pages through an extravagant champagne reception in her house, a huge marquee on her lawn. Bridesmaid dresses, sketches for bridal gowns.Do I get a say in anything?She talks through the layers of a five-tier cake and the stature of the three hundred and fifty guests, as I work my way through the plate of cakes, washing down the sugar with tea, trying to hold the dams in my eyes just a little longer.
I don’t want this.I don’t want a big wedding with hundreds of people I don’t know. People who don’t care aboutus.
I’ve just cleared out my dad’s house, the person who should be giving away his only daughter to the man she loves. My dad should be giving me away knowing that Gregory will take over protecting me, that he’ll love me back in every way he can. My father is dead. He won’t get to tell me I look beautiful in my ivory dress, whether it’s true or not. He won’t be able to walk me down the aisle. He died alone, without me, not knowing how much I truly love him. He was murdered because of me.
I need Gregory.I need him to hold me, to tell me everything’s going to be okay. To tell me he’ll fix this. I need him to reset me and help me find my equilibrium.
I drive through the darkness too fast, craving his touch and his soothing whispers in my ear. I need to forget and he’ll know that.
I’m breathless, panicked and lost by the time I get back to the apartment. I open the door and call his name. He isn’t here. He isn’t here and I need him.
I close the door and push my back against it before my body slides to the ground and my dams break. I clutch my knees to my chest and sob, audible, heart-wrenching tears that I might never be able to stop.
‘Baby, Christ, I’m here. I’m here.’
He hooks an arm under my legs and I throw my arms around his neck, fisting the back of his black T-shirt, clinging desperately to the only thing in the world that can earth me. He carries me to the sofa and sits with me in his lap. He lets me cry, stroking my hair, kissing my temple, accepting me falling apart.
‘I can’t do a big wedding, Gregory. I don’t want it. My dad won’t be there.’
‘Shh, I’ve got you. You’re fine, baby. I’m here.’
When my tears subside and my chest no longer chugs with every breath, I look at his stunning face, not self-conscious about the fact I must look a mess. He strokes my hair with both hands and two big, wide, sympathetic browns read me.
‘Gregory.’
He kisses me without me having to tell him what I need, that I just want to get lost in him, have him take me out of my head.
His mouth is gentle at first, then he kisses me urgently, with a fierceness he knows I need, a kiss that has us both breathless. He stands and places me down to sit on the edge of the sofa. He kneels between my legs and when I raise up my arms, he pulls my jumper over my head.
His lips are back on mine, fast and furious, sucking, biting as he unhooks my bra. Our contact is lost momentarily whilst he pulls my bra down my arms.
He pushes my chest so I fall back against the sofa. Then he tugs my legs at the knees, sliding my hips forward. His eyes are heavy, showing his own desire as he unfastens my jeans and pulls them down in one move, casting the denim and my French lace knickers to the floor.
He eyes me now, asking permission.
‘Yes. Please.’
He peels his black T-shirt over his head then pushes my legs apart, bending forward to kiss me chastely before moving his head between my legs.
‘Gregory. Yes. Oh God, yes.’
He holds his hands against the inside of my thighs, applying pressure as he dips his tongue lavishly in and out of me, then across my swollen bud.
‘Is this what you need, baby?’ His breath is hot on my sensitive skin.
I can hardly speak. ‘Yes.’
‘Say it. Tell me what you need.’
‘You. I need you.’
He sucks hard on my clit, his groan vibrating against me.
‘Please.’ I don’t even know why the word leaves my mouth but it does.
He pushes his fingers into me and I roll my head against the back of the sofa as my body lifts to a crescendo. His fingers move in circles, my body tensing each time he strokes my wall. My head clouds from my erratic breaths until I think I might pass out. His spare hand moves to my breast, squeezing hard as he sucks my clit again and I come undone.
