Chapter 24

Alistair's bed is the comfiest I've ever slept in.

Like the kind you only find in the best hotels in the world.

It's like sleeping on a cloud.

This man has no boundaries when it comes to making me feel. We did it twice in the living room, had dinner, then he brought me to bed and ate my pussy out until I came again and again. He didn't even care that his cum was still inside me. He's a dirty, dirty man and I can't get enough of it. I didn't even get to give him his present, or show him any of the things that I bought. But there's always tomorrow.

I snuggle into his chest as I revel in the soft lulls of him breathing. Yes. Tomorrow is another day. And after all the affection he's shown me tonight, I can't wait for what might be in store.

From him being mad, to not being mad, I don't know if I'm coming or going.

But I do know that Alistair cares for me. I can see it in his eyes when he looks at me.

I don't know what any of it means, or if this will last, but right now I'm just going to enjoy it.

I snuggle further against his warm body, feeling protected and safe for the first time in my life.

I don't know how I'm going to give him up, but I think I've earned myself a couple of hours rest, at least.

Two days later I stare at the white Aston Martin DBS Superleggera in shock with my hands over my mouth. When Alistair asked me again over breakfast about my favourite car, I joked and said an Aston Martin.

"I've organised a parking garage for you, and a fob to get in and out."

I'm still staring at the car. "Alistair, I can't drive this home."

He frowns. "Why not?"

I turn to him. "Are you kidding? It wouldn't be there by the morning."

"Good point. So it'll live here. Speaking of which…"

Oh, no, I hate it when he does that as usually it's some huge revelation he's about to shock me with.

"You need a new apartment."

I bat my eyelashes. "Is that what all sugar babies get when they're good?"

He smiles and it warms my heart.

I spent last night with him again, and it was wonderful. No island bench sex or the couch, but we did spend all night in his bed. And Alistair Devereaux can go all night.

"Yes. But you also need to be safe and looked after. And that's my job now."

I shouldn't let his words affect me. This is a transaction! Need I keep reminding myself that at every turn? It seems I might need to hear it one more time.

"So you're going to just buy me an apartment?"

"I have a few in the city but they're tenanted at the moment, so yes, it seems I'm going to do just that. I've set up some appointments tomorrow. I'll try to cancel my afternoon and come with you. Now, let's take your new car for a spin."

I gape at him. "You're serious?"

He frowns. "Of course I'm serious. Charlize, must we have this discussion every single time I choose to spend money on you?"

Not just that; he already deposited twenty grand into my bank account for this week already. I read the contract and it was cut and dry. There was no mention of sex anywhere, though. Just that I'd be his personal secretary and assistant. I wonder if his accountant would be questioning why I get paid so much — but I'm sure he could take a wild stab at it.

We climb in the car and I smooth my hands over the steering wheel, loving the new car smell. I've not driven in England since I arrived all those months ago, so I agree just around the block until I get used to it. Thank God he bought an automatic.

"Wow, it's so quiet," I say as we pull out of the garage. "But I feel really low down."

He chuckles. "That's the idea of a sports car."

I drive like Miss Daisy and he laughs at me the whole way up the street. "I think a puddle duck just passed us back there."

"Shut up! I'm trying to concentrate." Okay, maybe this wasn't a great idea, but man, it's a beautiful car. He doesn't once offer to jump out and speed off up the road. I marvel at how patient he is when he tries.

When we wind up back at the house, he leans over to kiss me. "You look adorable driving like that."

"I'll get better at it."

When we're back inside, I put the kettle on and make Alistair a coffee.

"What are you thinking about?" He breaks my reverie as my eyes meet him over the kitchen island.

"What your accountant thinks, not to mention your attorney."

"I don't care what they think. They get paid to do a job, not question my lifestyle."

I think about what happens when this all comes to an end. What then? But surely it won't be anytime soon if he's planning on getting me an apartment?

I try not to get too lost in the semantics of it all, but it's a little hard not to.

"I really don't need an apartment, Alistair. We barely know each other."

He looks up mid-sip from his coffee cup. "That doesn't matter."

I frown. "Are you doing all of this because you still feel guilty?"

"You can't honestly sit there and say that you didn't want to thump me at least once when reflecting back on our history together."

"You're right. I was angry for a long time, but I've come to realise a lot of things were out of your control. I wanted someone to blame and you were the only one alive left, so I turned it on you. I know now that you weren't to blame."

"Not even a little bit? For letting that witch take you away?"

I rest a hand on his arm. I never imagined I'd be the one making it okay, or that I'd even forgive him, but other than going to jail for kidnapping me, what else could he have done?

"She had full custody. And like you said, it wouldn't have proven anything but futile to fight it in court. You weren't to know."

"Don't be so sure, Charlize. Your mother told me plenty of times what a terrible woman she was — an awful Mother. And when she took you away, it ate at me for years."

"I never knew."

"Remember I wrote to you, but we both know how all of that ended."

A wash of emotion floods through me at the thought. "I wish I'd received the letters. That makes me sad."

He snorts. "Your grandmother was too caught up in how much she hated me, as well as losing her daughter. I suppose she wanted to latch onto the only thing she had left. What gets me is why she didn't be the best grandmother she could, instead of being a cunt."

My eyes go wide, then I burst out laughing. I mean, she was a horrible woman and he doesn"t know the heart of it. But I imagine how she'd turn in her grave hearing him say those words.

"You always did have a way with words."

He glares at me. "I despise that woman and everything about her. I always will."

I nod. I understand. "Yes, but then that eats away at you. Like a slowly spreading poison. Then one day, you have nothing left but a hollow self, because you spent all of this time putting your energy into something you couldn't change then and you certainly can't now."

His lips part as he takes me in. "That's a very intelligent thing to say. I never looked at it like that before. I spend too much time in my own head, thinking. Rinse and repeat."

"Well don't. I got through it. When I got away from her, things were better."

He stares at me. "I want you to be honest with me."

Uh, oh. I look down into my lap, subconsciously knowing this conversation was coming.

"Alistair…"

"Did she ever hit you?"

I clam up. My walls come down as I tuck my hair behind my ears. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"You can tell me anything," he says, and I can't meet his eyes. I don't want his sympathy. I don't want anything. "When you're ready."

I haven't even told my friends the worst of it, just that she was a bad woman. When I had the chance to stay on in the US and eventually get permanent residency, I never went back to Australia. Only for her funeral, and I wonder why I even bothered to do that.

He tilts my chin back up to face him."Don't ever hide from me."

"I'm not meaning to, but these conversations are hard."

"Yes, they are. But like you said. Bottling these things up and letting them fester is like poison. You can't let it rule your life forever. Sometimes I get the impression you're happy-go-lucky because that's what people expect of you. Am I right, Charlize?"

She shakes her head. "No. I just — I don't like being negative, it isn't good for me. Being the funniest or smartest person in the room is easier?—"

"Easier than what? Not letting anyone see how vulnerable you are?"

I bite my lip. "I guess. I've just learned to be a happy person. My troubles aren't as bad as the next person, a lot of people have it worse off than I do."

"That doesn't mean your problems don't matter, or what happened to you should get swept under the carpet. It matters, Charlize."

My heart thuds in my chest. I've never thought about it like that. Never.

The concern in his eyes — does he really care about me? He's so sincere that my heart breaks just a tiny bit. I never want to appear weak in his eyes, but I also don't want to lie either. I've never had a boyfriend or partner that truly got to a deep level of understanding with me. I've told Alistair way more about myself than I have anyone else in my life. Mainly because he was there, he lived it, too.

"I know."

"Do you really?"

"Yes." I squeeze his hand. "I do. I just need time. This is really hard for me. I have no family left." I have my two besties of course, and they're like sisters. But the thought makes me sad.

"You have me."

I stare into his grey eyes. When I first met him, they always looked sad, filled with pain and regret. Now they just look determined. I never saw the caring, nurturing side to him that I see now. Nothing about it is sexual.

"I know."

He clears his throat. "I know it's not the same, Charlize. That you wanted to be close to your mother, and I'm sure if she was equipped at raising you like she should have, she would've wanted that too."

I love how he's trying to make it better for me, but he really doesn't have to. I'm thirty years old. I buried my demons a long time ago. My mum did her best given the circumstances, and I've dealt with that. My grandmother; not so much. No amount of therapy could ever erase her from my thoughts, or make me think she did what she did because she wanted what's best for me.

"I know. She only knew what she knew. Part of her selfishness comes from her mother, I'm sure. But you don't have to sugar coat it, Alistair. I'm a big girl now."

He cups one side of my face. "I want to take you to the Cotswold this weekend."

My eyes go wide. "Really?"

"Yes, have you been there?"

I shake my head. Never. But I've always loved the idea of it.

"I have a manor. It's idyllic. Quiet. Cut off from the world but with modern technologies." He smiles softly. This house means a lot to him. "It's in a small village in Elstone, Gloucestershire. We can spend the weekend there, if you'd like."

Why is he doing this?

"I'd really like that," I say without hesitation. "Thank you."

He glances down at me. "But you're going to need some warmer clothes, and some wellies."

My eyebrows raise. "Wellies?"

"Yes. It's the country. And I think it's going to rain this weekend. You need a warm coat. Hats. Gloves. Scarf."

I have a few things in Alistair's wardrobe, but I will have to go and pack the rest of my things if I really am going to be moving.

This is all a whirlwind. A new car. Apartment. Now a weekend in the Cotswolds. This man really is spoiling me for all other men.

"I'll get my stylist, Emma, to meet you. She's fantastic. You'll like her."

I smile. "As long as I get to pick you out a new tie."

He leans over and we kiss.

God. This feels so normal. Like we're a couple or something.

"I loved the last present." He rolls his sleeve to show me the cufflinks with a lion"s head on each one, a little diamond sparkling from the tail.

"Well I'll be sure to visit Hermes again soon."

"You'll need luggage, get that too." He gives me a smirk. "So I'd better see a bigger dent in my card, or else you know what will happen."

Oh. Dear. God.

I grin. "I'll be sure to do my best then."