would have saved me one broken arm, nettle rash, a broken nose, and a bad reaction to hair dye.”
He snorts and then breaks into loud laughter. “Not all at the same time.”
I twist my head and grin up at him, and his eyes seem to catch on my smile. He sits up suddenly and fumbles in the bedside table.
“Are you looking for the lube?” I ask idly. “Because I think it’s still on the floor where you threw it earlier in your rush to fuck me.”
“Not lube.”
I look up, caught by something in his voice. He’s holding a red gift bag with gold letters across it that spell Cartier.
“What’s that?” I ask, sitting up.
He smiles almost nervously. “This is the real reason we’ve come here.”
“In that bag?”
He nods and passes it to me. “I wanted to give you something, Hen. Something just for you.”
“But I haven’t bought you anything.”
“You give me enough,” he says steadily. “I saw this in a magazine, and I loved the idea of it. I knew I wanted you to have one.”
I untie the ribbon on the bag and open it to see a red leather case. “Ivo,” I breathe. “This looks expensive.”
He shrugs. “I didn’t care how much it cost. Just that you had to have one.”
I snap the box open and stare at the object inside. “Ivo,” I whisper.
He comes down next to me and removes two halves of a white gold bracelet from the box.
“It’s a love bracelet,” he says. “There’s a screwdriver in here, and if you want to, I can screw it together on your wrist. I thought it would be subtle when you’re at work, but you’ll be wearing something that always reminds you of me.”
“I don’t need anything to do that,” I say hoarsely. “I think of you anyway.”
He looks up, and I’m caught and held by the golden depths of his eyes. “I know that I said I didn’t want marriage, and you said you were fine with it. But I do want eternity, and that’s what the circle means. It means forever. Do you like it?”
“I love it,” I say hoarsely, holding out my wrist so he can fasten the bracelet together and admiring the gentle gleam of it next to my Rolex. He puts our arms together so our wrists align, causing the two tattooed men to join their ropes. It’s something he does a lot, particularly when we’re lying in bed together. I smile and look up. “And I love you, and you haven’t got anything.”
He shrugs. “I got what I wanted when I got you. In all my life I’ve never really wanted anything. Only you. There’s no need for anything else.”
Oz and Silas
Ten Minutes’ Peace
Silas
The sun-washed hallway of the house is a hive of activity when I walk in. A group of old ladies chatters like magpies as they surround June, the senior tour guide, while Susie on the desk processes payments and hands out guidebooks quicker than an usher at a royal wedding.
I edge past them trying to be inconspicuous, but that plan is foiled as soon as June sees me. “Lord Ashworth,” she calls. “Can we just have a moment of your time?” Her voice is soft, but it seems to cut through the women’s chatter like a knife through butter. All conversation is immediately suspended, and they turn around, as synchronized as a group of meerkats.
I hesitate, toying with the idea of making a run for it, but June’s eyes have a gleam I don’t trust, so I don’t bother. “That’s me,” I say heartily and immediately the ladies surround me, getting out their mobile phones to take selfies with me.
I’m posing with a broad and slightly nervous grin on my face when I hear a familiar chuckle from behind me. Warmth runs through my body like the sunshine is reaching inside, and I turn to face the man I came home early to see.
He leans against the door to the Great Hall, wearing skinny black jeans with a grey shirt, and his hair is shaggier than it’s ever been. What with that and the bright blue polish on his nails, he looks more like a rock star than someone who manages an old house. His muscles bunch as he holds on to a case of orange juice.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, giving me the intimate and slightly wicked smile that he reserves for me.
I blink as a flash goes off in my face. The two old ladies