So, it’s the mornings that prove the most flexible. She’s at Good Vibes almost every day; her team at work knows to keep her mornings clear of big external meetings. She’s certainly putting in the hours with her mum—she sits by that bed for as long as she can every day—but I’m reaping the benefits, too.
Even on the days we can’t slip away to my flat, I get to see her. And when she’s done being with her mum, she comes downstairs and we sit and work at Good Vibes’ kitchen table together, laptops in front of us, a mug of tea by our sides, and it’s heaven. The Good Vibes family is tight-knit, our guests’ visitors become regular, much-welcomed parts of that family, and if anyone finds it odd that I’m devoting so much of my time to a certain guest’s famous daughter, no one says a word.
What’s clear is that this thing between us has bloomed beyond just sex (if it was ever just sex, which I doubt) into an intimacy that colours my days golden. However frenetic our lives are, being together seems to bring Honor the same enormous amount of pleasure it brings me. And that’s the thing I keep coming back to. That’s what alleviates my conscience when I torture myself with the sacrifices she’s having to make for me. For us.
She cried on me last week. Jackson was back for a few days between press junkets, and she told me she refused to sleep with her husband. She picked a fight and told Jackson it was because of the escalating news flow around him and that co-star of his. It wasn’t. It was because she said she couldn’t face sleeping with two men at the same time, couldn’t get her head around it; it made her feel violated to even think about it.
My relief that she’s not having sex with that philandering dick is matched by guilt that I’ve put her in that position, that she’s having to endure this conflict in her marriage. Because Jackson’s headlines aren’t the only thing escalating. From what she says, they’ve agreed a number with Burberry and the contracts for that fragrance campaign, or whatever it’s called, are being drawn up.
All I can do is make this worth her while. It’s what I promised her that first night—that I’d make her life better. And for now, all I can offer her is as much of me as she’ll take.
My love.
Because I do.
I love her.
HONOR
I wakein the most delicious way, floating to the surface, to light and warmth. My limbs are liquid; my mind is air. I have an exquisite impression of peace before my conscious mind can quite identify where I am.
And when I open my eyes, it gets better.
Noah.
There he is, smiling at me from inches away, all warm, bronzed skin and molten eyes, looking as happy and relaxed and well-fucked as I feel. The sensation of warmth I have is his arm around my back, his hairy legs entwined with mine.
‘Hi.’ His smile widens.
‘Hi. Wow, I nodded off there.’
‘You were only out for about twenty minutes. Looks like you needed it.’
‘I did.’ I yawn. ‘Those super-strength orgasms of yours knocked me out.’ My fingers trail through the soft, dark down on his chest. It’s one of the most gorgeous things about him. Beautiful man.
‘Good. I loved watching you sleep. You looked like an angel.’ He pauses. ‘You always look like an angel. There is absolutely nowhere else I’d rather be right now, you know?’
‘How are you still single?’ I stretch indulgently in his arms. ‘Seriously. How in God’s name have you not been snapped up and marched down the aisle by some insatiablebride?’
He smiles bashfully. ‘Well. I wouldn’t classify myself as single just now, exactly.’
‘No?’
‘Nope.’
‘Good.’ I reach across and brush my lips to his—a reward for his reassurance. ‘Have you been single for a while? I wish now I’d paid more attention whenever Elaine mentioned you.’
‘I’m sure she had nothing interesting to say. Poor Mum. I’ve been single for far too long, in her mind.’
‘How long?’
‘Years and years.’
‘What do you do for sex?’ My knuckles brush that trail of hair on his abdomen. Up and down.
‘I find beautiful, unsuspecting married women and seduce them by moonlit swimming pools, with the help of soulful French music and lashings of rosé.’
‘You do, do you?’
