Blake had only given me fragments—something about James having betrayed him and that Dylan Fox wished to destroy him. Just enough to worry me.
He looked at me. “No. Don’t involve her.”
“Something happened earlier,” I said in a thin voice. “When I visited my mother, Jimmy, one of the local guys…”
“One of the dealers that loiters about, you mean?”
I bristled at his biting tone. “He’s not a bad person. Desperation does that to people, you know?”
He attempted a weak smile. “That’s the second time I’ve heard that today.” Blake took my hand. “I interrupted. You were saying?”
“Jimmy told me that the Russian had come looking for Lilly. Brent confronted him and it broke out into a punch-up. The Russian came off second best.”
“Who’s Brent?”
“That’s Lilly’s brother. He’s very protective, especially since she’s been staying with James. Maybe now for a good reason.”
“I hope you’re looking for a new place for your mother. I’ve got an open checkbook, Penelope. I don’t want you going back there.”
“You’ve given me so much, and I’m really grateful. At times, I still find it difficult to process. But you can’t tell me what to do, and I’m about to fail my degree.” Tears blinded me. For the first time ever, I’d received a fail mark on one of my assignments due to missing extended deadlines.
“Oh?” His brow crinkled. “But you’re a brilliant artist, Penelope. You’re unique. You stand out from the crowd.”
My face was saturated as I sniffled and blew my nose in the most unladylike fashion. I’d reverted to Penny from the estate, and not that cool art student with the rich boyfriend.
“I’ve scored high on my practical, but my written work sucks. It always has. But I managed to bumble through it with the help of Sheldon and, believe it or not, my mother.”
“Your mother?” Blake’s frown was understandable. I’d also been shocked at my mother’s innate intelligence when she put her mind to helping me.
“She’s really good at English. Even junked out, she would help me express my ideas on paper.”
This retelling of one of our rare but finer moments together made me bawl like a baby.
Blake took me into his arms, which was the first time we’d held each other since he’d arrived with a dark shadow in tow.
My eyes seemed to have a burst a pipe as tears poured out. It had been an edgy day, starting in the morning, when Blake crushed me while we slept, and then ending with me learning that my degree hung on a thread. The thought of repeating another semester froze my veins.
“Take me to her,” said Blake.
I frowned. “What?”
“I want to meet your mother.”
“You do?” My tears dried, and my heart banged against my ribcage. Am I ready for that?
“Please. It will help me.”
“How?” I froze on the spot.
“I just want to meet her.”
“Look, Blake, don’t worry about it. I’ll spend the next few days focusing, and I’ll finish that essay.”
“What’s the subject?” Although his change of subject was jarring, I welcomed it.
“How the Pre-Raphaelites informed the neo-classical movement.”
“I’ve got an idea,” he said, brightening.
“About the Pre-Raphaelites?”
He laughed, which was rare for him but beautiful. “No, although I do love the collection at the Tate. You enjoyed our little trip to Bath.”
“I did. I’ve even started sketching my new bridge series.” I smiled as he took my hand.
“Why don’t we go there for a couple of days? While you’re working on your paper, I can arrange renovations for my new spa.”
My spirit came alive. “I’d love that.”
“I actually got a distinction for English, so if I can help in anyway…” Blake’s gentle smile gave him that rare boyish look that I loved.
“Oh, that would be super.” I fell into his arms, and our lips met for a soft, tender kiss that quickly developed into one of need and hunger. I pulled away and smirked. “So, you’re not just a pretty face?”
Blake wore a half grin that dimpled his cheek and made me want to eat him.
He squeezed my ass and then fondled my breasts. A sliver of electricity gusted through me. The more intense Blake’s life was the harder his cock became.
His fingers moved inside my panties and tickled my clit.
“And you’re very creamy,” he rasped, waltzing me to the sofa. My body relaxed entirely, not only because his ravishing tongue promised to send me over the edge but also because my mother hadn’t been mentioned again.