Guilt gnaws at my stomach, making it churn and tumble. I’ve showered and dressed, but I knew I couldn’t stay home. Kingston would only find me there, so here I am, sat in a coffee shop in the center of London, head buried in a book I can barely focus on, and on my third cup of coffee in the last hour and a half.
It’s a rare sunny day, but it’s cold, the sun in the sky useless compared to the bitter claws winter firmly had in.
I wondered if he was at my apartment right now. I knew he would be awake but where he was, was anyone’s guess. It made me nervous.
I was doing what was right, even if it made me sick.
It would end badly.
I was protecting myself.
I had made it a habit to lie over these last few weeks, what’s a couple more even if they’re to myself.
Surely, he would give up, and I could just move on. Surely, I was boring compared to what he could have, and eventually he’ll get over it. It hurt, even thinking about it but better now than later on, when it’ll hurt more.
I order another coffee and just as I’m sitting down, ready to reread the chapter in my book I had neglected to concentrate on, my phone buzzes, an incoming call.
I check it, expecting Kingston’s name, but it’s Tobias.
Not much better.
I can’t ignore his call, so after hesitating for another moment, I hit the green button, and put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
It wasn’t normal for him to call me on a weekend, but it had happened before.
“Eleanor, I’m sorry to interrupt your weekend, I need you in the office.”
“Now?” I hiss.
“Yes, now,” he’s breathless, “I have a meeting coming in, in ten minutes, and I’m forty-five minutes away, I need you to keep him company until I can get there.”
I sigh, “Fine.”
“Thank you!” He gushes, “I’ll be as quick as I can.”
“Who is it anyway?” I ask but he’s already hung up.
Rolling my eyes, I get up and head to the counter, getting my coffee transferred to a takeaway cup and shoving my book into my purse. I was only around the corner from the office, so I take a leisurely stroll down the street, weaving through the Saturday morning crowds.
The office wouldn’t be empty, it never is. Far too many people worked overtime over the weekend, and it would be at least half full.
I slip in through the door, greet the weekend security guard who stands close to the doors and head up to my floor. I don’t say anything to any of the staff that have their heads buried in the computers, tapping incessantly on the keyboards, or talking on the phone.
I crouch on the other side of my desk, going into the bottom drawer to fish out the keys for the meeting rooms when I hear footsteps, and then them stopping on the other side of the desk.
“Just a minute,” I shout over to them.
“Take your time,” they say, and my spine stiffens, “I quite like it when you’re on your knees.”
I jerk up, so suddenly I smack my head on the desk. I hiss out a breath, rubbing the tender spot as I see exactly who it is on the other side.
Kingston stands there, dressed impeccably in a suit, hands buried into the pockets of his trousers. He’s groomed and neat and even with the tattoos still showing he looks like a different man. He looks like Harrison, and I hate it. I want Kingston, in his rough denim jeans and t-shirt that seem to mold to his shape, I want all his tattoos on show to me, the cocky smile and skilled fingers.
“Kingston,” I breathe.
He cocks a brow, “Who?”
I correct myself, “Harrison.” The name is sour on the tongue.
“Very good, love.”
“What… why are you here?”
“Well, I have a meeting of course, of some urgency and Tobias was more than happy to oblige when a half a million pounds was on the line.”
“You went to my apartment.” I accuse.
“No. I knew you’d be smart enough to get out, after all I’d find you far too easily there and we both know how much I enjoy the chase. All it took was a couple of carefully constructed lies and your boss would bend over backwards for the money, and he’d drag you into it. Chasing isn’t always running after someone, Eleanor, you’d be wise to remember that.”
“And what if I didn’t want you to chase?” I snap. I was losing all of my control.
“You want me to chase, Eleanor, a part of you thrives in the fear, but mostly you want to be caught.”
I swallow.
“You’re thinking about it now, what being caught means. What happens to you now that I have you.”
“Nothing,” I clench my hands, he isn’t wrong, “Nothing can happen because we’re here.”
He just smiles, “So, will you take me through to that meeting room now?”
There were more than a few pairs of eyes on us, watching the exchange, though I doubted they heard anything, “Of course, sir,” I spit, “follow me.”
“Always,” he replies.