peering down at his phone. He looked up. Those eyes looked so blue and lost that I wanted to jump on his lap and console him.
“Hey.” He rose and took my hand. “Are you okay?”
I nodded.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
59
* * *
BLAKE
I STOPPED WALKING AND took Penelope’s hand. Public displays of anything, let alone affection, fitted me as awkwardly as a pair of high heels. So I surprised myself when I took her into my arms and held her.
Our relationship, despite my greedy addiction for her body, had become much more than just sexual. I loved having her around reading a book, doodling or watching telly.
Her poise brought me indescribable pleasure. Having her close comforted and calmed my spirit. I’d been living in a cage before. It was strange— I had thought that a relationship would imprison me, but in fact, it had freed me.
Penelope removed herself from my arms and looked up at me. She seemed so tiny without heels.
“Did they ask some challenging questions?” I asked.
“Not really. Just the standard ‘where were you’ question.”
I studied her for signs of stress. “I hope you can forgive me for dragging you into yet another ugly scene. I imagine there aren’t any more to come.” I smiled.
I’d been probed and interrogated for two hours. In the end, I had nothing to give them other than the truth. I reminded the detective that Fox had made a lot of enemies, powerful people who had much more to lose than me. The fact that I wasn’t embroiled in the pedophile-island scandal had helped.
After twenty-three years of having that bastard in my shadow, a protracted ordeal by anyone’s standards, I felt lighter as we moved along the path.
Penelope stopped walking. “Just answer me honestly. Were you responsible?”
Even though I understood her need to ask, the fact that she thought me capable of murder stung. “I was with you all night.”
“You could have hired someone,” she argued. The coolness in her tone was like vinegar to a wound.
“Look at me, Penelope,” I said. She turned and gazed up at me. “Why would I wait until now?” I opened out my hands. “If anything, I had more reason to strike after that abduction attempt on you.” I paused to read her reaction. “I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize what we have.”
I wiped away the tear that touched her cheek and kissed her tenderly in broad daylight, surrounded by a rush of people oblivious to our struggle, which instead of breaking us, had brought us closer together.
“I believe you.” A sigh of resignation followed. “To be honest, I would have forgiven you anyway, as bad as that sounds. He was evil.” She smiled sadly. “I do worry about Lilly, though.”
“Why? Because of James?” I asked, relieved to have the conversation veer away from me.
“They’re no longer together. She’s staying with me. I hope you don’t mind.”
“It’s your house, darling. You can let anyone stay, as long as it’s not another man, of course.”
She wore an impish grin. “I’m too sore, so even if I wanted to, which of course I don’t, I couldn’t let another man fuck me.”
That worried me. “Am I that rough?”
“This morning in the shower…” She tilted her head.
“I thought you liked it.”
“Yeah. It was nice.” Her soft voice made my dick lengthen.
“I’m wearing jeans.” There was a lot to be said for loose-fitting pants.
“I like you in jeans.” Her hand landed in my pocket and squeezed my ass. “So you see, Mr. Insatiable, I don’t have anything left for another man.” Her smile faded. “I don’t want another man. It’s the last thing I’d ever do.”
“I trust you. It’s just the way men look at you—like that dick that just passed. His eyes were all over your tits.”
“I can’t help that, Blake.”
“No, you can’t, you sexy temptress.” I drew her close.
That made her giggle, and we headed off for coffee and cake in an attempt to remove that dank, dark police station from our minds.
* * *
THE FOLLOWING DAY, I arrived at Penelope’s and, recalling Lilly now lived there, knocked on the door.
Lilly answered and stepped out, allowing me pass.
“I hope you don’t mind me staying. I’ll try not get in the way.”
Following her down the long hallway, I replied, “It’s all good. It’s a big house.”
“Penny’s painting.” She appeared so sad that I felt a pang of sympathy and, at the same time, anger at James for not doing the right thing by her.
“How are you?” I asked.
“Yeah. I’m good.