“I can’t have your number?”
I shake my head and give the naïve smile that’s been my saviour too many times. “Security protocol I’m afraid.”
“Very well. I’ll wish you a good flight and leave you to it.”
We end the evening, Ben closing the door behind him and turning the lock. Then his hand is on the small of my back and he’s guiding me in the second bedroom that hasn’t been used but is well away from the door.
The door shuts and we’re alone, enclosed.
“He’s dangerous.”
“I know.”
“Lennox…”
“Is a dick. I’ll tell him what happened. You shouldn’t have called him out about the holiday.”
Ben shrugs. “Worse that can happen is they fire me, but they won’t do that.”
He’s too close to me. And he’s right.
Because I wouldn’t let them.
The room is suddenly too small, the walls closing in.
“Ben.” His name escapes my lips. “Why did you never contact me when you joined the army?”
“Because that would’ve made it too hard. Where would me writing to you or calling have gotten us?” He turns his head to look out of the window and I catch sight of a white line across the side of his neck. He’s scarred.
The two metres between us is nothing compared with the miles that were there before and I move next to him, my finger tracing the scarred skin, almost imperceptible.
“How did you get this?”
“I pissed somebody off.” He catches my hand. Moves it from his neck but he doesn’t let it go.
He doesn’t kiss it like William Goldsmith did, he doesn’t hold it tenderly as if it was made from the most fragile porcelain. He grips it, warning me not to touch; needing me to touch.
My lips are on his at the same time an explosion goes off in my chest, taking, taking, taking because he doesn’t give anything back but now his hands are on my ass and I’m melting from the inside out. He’s hard under my hands, sheet muscle with enough power to floor me and enough again to break me. For him, I am a fairy tale, just the princess he couldn’t save.
I’m terrified.
I break away, step back from him, move out of his hold. He hasn’t kissed me back, remaining frozen. An ice man, just like when he was an ice boy and his resolve was frozen.
But his hands told me otherwise.
I don’t let his gaze leave me, holding his blue eyes with mine. “Should I apologise?”
“Never apologise. We really do have a plane to catch.”
My eyes drops to his trousers and I see what I didn’t feel. He’s hard. Just from a kiss and cupping my ass.
I lick my lips and he doesn’t smile.
I won’t make him smile. I’ll bring him to his knees.
Chapter Seven
The loch is still, stiller than it’s ever been and I’m on a boat, wearing white, my dress full of lace and silk. The sky is grey and the mountains are murky, dark grey blocks against everything else.
