He swallowed, waiting for the waiter to drop the coffees off that we’d ordered before speaking. “Yes.”
I rubbed my foot up his leg. “I didn’t think you would be jealous, Mister Cool and Doesn’t Date.”
He grumbled something that I couldn’t translate.
“What was that?”
“I’d rather other men didn’t get to see what I did.”
“Even if they didn’t get to touch?” I angled my body to face his, amused with his response. I’d seen his reaction to me when I’d been talking to other men. He’d never been obviously possessive, but he’d noticed, sometimes interrupted, asked a question who they were when he thought I wouldn’t notice what his game was.
“They don’t get to touch.” There was no give in his voice.
I could’ve asked him more, reminded him that this was a fling, poked the bear to see if I could rile this brief glimpse of jealousy any more, but the view was too lovely, the day too perfect.
“Are you touching any other women?” I did want to know this though. Island gossip had told me about Marielle, but I didn’t think he’d continued to see her, although I hadn’t asked. I’d been too afraid of what the answer might be.
Tommy untangled his fingers from mine and put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me in close. “I haven’t had the time or the inclination. You keep my busy enough.” A shadow crossed his face.
“What’s that look for?”
He shook his head. “My dad was a player. Had affairs that my mum was aware of, but then she was no saint either. It caused so many arguments. It was fucking tiring to watch, let alone be a part of.”
“So that’s put you off polygamy?” I smiled, drawing a finger up his thigh. “I hear it’s overrated.”
His laugh was short and full of distaste. “If you’re going to be with someone, be with them. I never cheated on Leila. If I wanted to, then something was up with the relationship, and we weren’t meant to be. Both of us got that.”
I didn’t know how to respond. He talked rarely about Leila, maybe only once before, so instead I was quiet.
“I’m not sleeping with anyone but you, Jameson. I’m not having breakfast or lunch or dinner with anyone else either. And it isn’t just that I don’t have time.”
I smiled, resting my head into his shoulder, watching as Lucas brought the usual array of patisseries and juices, amusement on his face when he saw us.
“I get it.”
He nodded, not saying anything else. He didn’t need to.
It was enough.
Chapter Eighteen
Tommy
“We’re not talking horses heads in his bed though, are we?” Colm stared out of his window while he spoke on the phone, the fingers on his other hand repeatedly squashing a piece of paper. “That’s okay then. Just keep Ash out of the way. Tommy’s sorting it. Yeah, yeah.”
I stopped listening. I should’ve stopped listening ten years ago. It was midday and I hadn’t eaten. Jameson had left my bed later than normal; she hadn’t felt too good during the night, a headache and feeling nauseous, which meant I hadn’t slept well either, watching to make sure she didn’t need a doctor or get any worse.
“He’s here now. We’ll get on it. I know pressure’s being applied to the Lawrence boy. Yep. Yeah. Speak to you later.” Colm hung up and looked straight at me. “The family has the money.”
“Lawrence or Livi?”
“Both. But Lawrence can pay it and if he doesn’t, Livi will be able to. We just need to exert that pressure. You’ve gotten into the family; you know what leverage there is. We need Marcus to clear his debt and Lebedev will back off from Ash.” He sat down, looking at me with forced patience.
“How is Ash?”
Colm shrugged. “Pissed off. He wants to be back over here. Boy needs to chill the fuck out.”
“What was that about threats?”
