Page 28 of Tears of Gold

“I’m running so late, forgive me.” His voice literally melts my insides.

“Nothing to forgive. How was court?”

There’s a beat of silence. “Hard. It’s a mudslinging match, with the prime objective being who can make the most mud stick.”

“Was Philip there?” I hate the thought of Lewis’ mild-mannered dad listening to his wife’s name being dragged through the mud, because it will be.

I already know that’s what will happen to me if Aiden ever gets taken to trial. His lawyer will find out everything there is about me. Every single thing I’ve done wrong will be aired for all to hear. For a moment I blindly stare out of the windscreen of the car. I have nothing to hide. I have to remember that.

“He was, and Lewis.”

There’s a faint sound of a key locking a door from Eli’s end of the phone.

“That must have been hard.”

He sighs. “It was. It’s one thing knowing the family are listening, hearing everything as it comes out in the opening statements. But it’s something else when it’s someone you know, and care about.”

“And you wanted to be my lawyer?” I snort. “You’d be crazy.”

“Maybe.” His voice pitches with that low depth he gets that makes me get all warm and uncomfortable in places I don’t want to be when I’m sat in his vintage car. “Where are you? I’ll be home soon. I’m just leaving. I’ll grab a cab.”

He walks out through the gates and waves at the guard on duty. His eyes fall on the gleaming sports car and he smiles wide. I watch as the worries and cares that were lining his face as he talked and walked erase with his joy at seeing me.

He loves me.

And I’m only just beginning to realise what that means.

He pulls on the passenger door. “Now this is a cabbie I like the look of.”

I smirk, although on the inside I’m all hot and tingly. Elijah in a suit is mighty fine. Elijah in a suit when he’s tired and his hair is ruffled, and his tie is half undone… well that’s panty melting.

“Where to, sir?” I pretend to doff an imaginary cap.

“Home.” His eyes burn through me. His intent clear.

I nod slowly. Do I tell him home has moved now, or when we get there?

Eight

I’m a chicken. I negotiate the late-night traffic not saying a damn word. Eli’s palm burns through the denim of my jeans. Every so often he slides his hand further up my thigh and it’s all I can do not to crash the damn car.

When we stop outside Chesham Place his focus is so intent on me and the kisses he is teasing up my throat to my earlobe that he doesn’t even realise for a moment where we are.

“What are we doing here?” He gazes up at the pillared glory of our new home.

There is no way to make it better. It’s going to have to be the Band-Aid approach. Quick and brutal.

“We live here.”

His eyes narrow as he turns back to face me. “No. I’m almost entirely sure that this morning I watched you drink your coffee at the black island I had installed in my own kitchen and I was thinking how very much I wanted to fuck you on the marble.

Well now my panties are on fire.

Hold it together, Faith. “Well I checked the kitchen and there is a more than suitable kitchen table, made from oak I believe, not so cold under my butt cheeks.”

He sweeps forward and catches my lips with his own. His tongue teases an entrance and his breath is hot as his hands slide around my chin, capturing me in his kiss.

“You didn’t call.”