I assumed he thought it was an easier way of getting all our things back to Knightsbridge. For some reason I’d grown to like his little apartment far more than the chic expansive abode owned by the company. It was truly his, where as the place we were headed back to may as well have been a hotel.
“Come on,” he said, gesturing for me to follow him back out onto the street.
It was nice not to get into the back of a cab for a change and Maxim seemed to be intending on walking too, which I was glad about.
I slotted in easily against his side and his arm fit around my shoulder like it was built to go there. His entire body matched mine seamlessly. He could have been created entirely for me, built to meet my every desire, every fantasy of what a man was supposed to be. I loved that I didn’t have to hold myself back. Any time I wanted to touch him, I could.
He was mine. And after the last few days, I was even more sure of that.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
The pavements were radiating heat from the day, even though the sun was starting to dip, but the streetlights weren’t warming up yet. Just too early. Proper twilight was a little way off, but it was going to be a beautiful one.
Between the tower blocks, the sky was streaked with mottled, fish-scale clouds. Who knew what that meant about the weather. I only knew it was going to make one hell of a sunset.
Maxim turned us towards the North Greenwich peninsula, and I assumed he must be taking us to the O2 to get something to eat from one of the outlets around the multiplex cinema. I wouldn’t have minded half a chicken and chips from Nando’s.
But we didn’t go inside.
“This way, love.”
Maxim led me towards the entrance for the Emirates Airline – the gondola cable car crossing the river, and I gave him an odd look. I couldn’t understand why we were doing tourist attractions instead of going home.
He grinned at me. “Come on, they’re waiting just for us.”
I rolled my eyes, thinking he was joking, but then he pulled one of the guards to one side and talked to him quietly for a moment. When he stepped back, the man nodded and said something into the two-way radio clamped to his jacket, which burbled back in return.
“Right this way, Sir. Madam.”
He unclipped a crowd control belt and swept us towards another entrance to the platform where glass doors lined up for each gondola cabin, taking us around the small queue of people waiting to get tickets, through to a different side. He gestured for his colleague, dressed like a cabin crew, to hand us each a glass of champagne.
I grinned as I took the glass and looked back rolling my eyes at Maxim. “What is this?”
He leaned in closer and I felt a shiver go through me as I felt his breath hot against the back of my neck. The low tenor of his voice rumbled through me, pure vibration. We’d spent the afternoon fucking each other like rabbits, but I didn’t think I was ever going to get enough of him. “We’re celebrating. I like to celebrate when we’ve had such a run of good luck. And because you’ve been truly spectacular, every step of the way.”
“I have been, haven’t I?” I was still on a high from it, but nothing quite topped knowing that Maxim loved seeing me break all the rules as well as he could.
We were shown into a gondola of our very own. I realised there was no one else joining us as the doors hissed closed. With a jerk, the platform flew away from us, we were off on our way, ascending sharply to the full height of the cable car run above the river.
Beside us, the white dome of the O2 was bathed in sunset tones, and I could just see the close packed towers of Canary Wharf on the Isle of Dogs coming into view down the river, standing out like some kind of Gotham from the lower rise of the docks that surrounded it.
I leaned on the bar around the edge of the capsule.
“How did you time this so perfectly?” The sun was just going down over the city, staining the sky pink and orange, the clouds looking almost purple as they streaked across it. It was the most beautiful view of London I’d ever had.
“What’s the use of having contacts when you never use them?”
I smiled at him.
“Fair point.”
Maxim pulled an envelope out of the inner pocket of his jacket and handed it to me.
“What’s this?”
“Take a look.”
Feeling remarkably suspicious, I handed him my glass of champagne after taking one last sip so I had both hands free to open it. The small, bubble wrapped envelope had been delivered to Maxim by courier and he’d opened it already.