‘Well, hello!’ she sings down the phone in greeting.

What is she so happy about? Oh God. She’s not been to The Manor again, has she? I won’t ask. I really don’t want to know. ‘Hey, you okay?’

‘It’s all good in the hood! How’s my favourite boyfriend to a friend?’ She laughs.

‘He’s fine.’ I answer dryly. She only loves him so much because he bought her Margo Junior.

‘Listen, I’m on my way to Brighton to drop a cake off in Margo Junior. Do you want to do lunch on Thursday? I’m a bit hectic tomorrow. I’ve got stacks to catch up on.’

‘Being distracted, are we?’

‘Fun!’ she snaps. ‘Do you want to do lunch or not?’

‘All right!’ I blurt. Her oversensitivity on this matter is making me super suspicious. ‘Thursday, one o’clock at Baroque.’ I confirm.

‘Perfect!’ She hangs up.

Blimey, I think I just hit a nerve. Fun my arse! She’s skirting around this and brushing it off far too hastily. I want to know what’s going on, but I’m making it a point not to ask in future. What’s she up to?

I hear the door of the office open and look up to see Tom arriving. ‘Tom, we need to have a word about your attire!’

He looks down at his emerald green dress shirt with bright pink tie. Colour clash in Tom’s world is highly offensive. ‘Fabulous, isn’t it?’ He strokes his tie.

No, it’s not. It’s highly unpleasant, in fact. I know that if I was looking for an interior designer and Tom turned up on my doorstep, I would shut the door in his face. ‘Where’s Victoria?’ I ask.

‘Appointment in Kensington.’ He throws his man-bag on his desk and takes his glasses off to clean them on the tail of his shirt.

‘Did you find out what happened?’  I press.

‘No!’ He slumps into his chair. ‘She moped and sulked all day.’ He leans forward and scans the office. ‘Hey, what do you make of our Sal?’

Oh, he’s noticed. It’s hard not to. ‘She had a date.’ I whisper loudly.

He puts his glasses back on in a dramatic gesture that suggests he needs to see my face given the news. It’s ridiculous. They’re a fashion statement and Tom’s attempt to appear professional. Professional? He should lose the shirt and tie combo. It’s making me squint.

‘No!’ he gasps.

‘Yes! And a second date tonight.’ I nod.

His eyes bulge again. ‘Can you imagine how boring he is?’

I recoil, suddenly feeling extremely guilty for engaging him in such a conversation. ‘Don’t be a bitch, Tom.’ I scorn.

Sally walks through the office, stopping our gossip dead in its tracks. Tom raises his eyebrows and grins as he follows her path to the photocopier. If I was close enough, I would kick him.

He turns back to me, catching my disapproving expression and holds his hands up. ‘What?’ he mouths.

I shake my head and return to my computer, but my peace is short lived.

‘So,’ Tom calls from his desk. ‘Victoria tells me you’ve moved in with Mr Ward.’

I look up from my screen in shock and see him casually flicking through a catalogue. How does she know? Of course…Drew. He and Victoria were together on Friday night, but what has happened since then to put her in such a foul mood? I don’t want to engage in this conversation. Tom thrives on drama, and my life is really quite a drama at the moment.

‘I’ve not moved in with him, and I need you to be quiet, Tom.’ I carry on deleting junk emails. He doesn’t take the hint.

‘Fancy that, living in the ten million quid penthouse that you designed.’ he muses thoughtfully, still flicking pages.

‘Shut up, Tom.’ I glare at him when he lifts his eyes from the catalogue he’s not even reading. He takes the hint this time, carrying on about his business.

I don’t know how I’m going to get around this with Patrick. It doesn’t look very good, me dating a client, and all I need is Tom blabbering off in the office for all to hear.

I return my focus to my computer and finish emptying my inbox of junk emails before preparing a payment schedule for Miss Quinn along with some brief ideas.

As five o’clock hits, I sit tapping my pen on my desk, deep in thought, and I have a bloody fantastic thought.

Oh my God I’m amazing! I jump up from my desk and quickly clear it of drawings and files. I grab my bag and flowers and head for the office door. ‘I’m done, see you tomorrow, guys.’ I call, as I all but sprint out of the office. I have half an hour. I can make it.

I head for the tube and to my intended destination.

I run from the tube to Lusso. I need to be showered and ready before Jesse gets home. I bypass any conversation with Clive and jump in the elevator, puffing and panting from my exertion. My poor body has really taken a hammering today.

I fly into the bedroom and throw my flowers and bag on the chest before unpacking all of my purchases, shoving them in the wooden trunk and quickly jumping in the shower, eager to ready myself for the evening ahead. I’m careful not to wet my hair as I frantically wash the day away and not so frantically shave, before removing myself from the enclosure and reaching up to grab a towel.

I turn, slamming straight into a familiar, solid and very naked chest.

Oh shit!

‘Surprised to see me?’ His voice is low and threatening.

I slowly lift my gaze to his and find hooded, dark green eyes and a deadly serious expression. Dominant Jesse has arrived, and he has completely screwed my plans up.

‘A little.’ I admit.

‘Thought so. We have a small issue to resolve and we’re going to do it now.’

I stand frozen in place, dripping wet and clutching the towel. I’m completely and utterly gutted that he has caught me like this, but my disappointment doesn't prevent the stab of pleasure that’s just shot from deep in my stomach, straight into my groin. His menacing, lean frame towering all over me, accompanied by his heavy breathing, tells me I’m in no position to protest. But I just can’t help myself.

‘What if I say no?’ I whisper. There is not a chance in Hell I could ever say no to him. I’m totally calling his bluff, and he probably knows it.

‘You won’t.’ His self-assured tone pumps the blood faster through my veins.

‘I might.’ I so won’t and my small voice confirms this.

He pushes himself into me, the warm, slippery head of his erection probing at my lower stomach, prompting a small gasp of air to escape my mouth. His eyes burn with dark promise as I wait for him to make his move, anticipation having the muscles at my core convulsing.

‘Let’s not play games, Ava. We both know you’ll never say no to me.’ His fingertip trails the length of my wet arm, across my shoulder and up my neck until it reaches the hollow void under my ear.

I close my eyes. He’s got me again.

‘Do you believe in fate, Ava?’ His voice is silky smooth, but sure and serious.

I open my eyes on a frown. What is he on about? I’ve never thought about things happening for a reason. What’s his point? ‘No.’ I answer honestly.

‘I do.’ He reaches down and cups me, his hot touch making me tense further. ‘I believe that you’re supposed to be here with me, so you advising the concierge that you don’t live here just fucks…me…off.’ He accentuates the last three words clearly and sharply.

Oh, he really had me thinking we were friends by sending me the flowers. He’s still pissed about this morning?

He reaches up with his other hand and grasps my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He starts rolling, elongating my already stiff peak, and I close my eyes as I’m sliced in two by waves of pleasure. He slowly inserts two fingers inside me.

‘Oh, God.’ I moan, my head falling back, the towel dropped in favour of Jesse’s shoulders.

He takes advantage of the access to my neck and bends, pressing his lips to the centre of my throat, licking a firm, wet stroke all of the way up to my chin, his fingers sweeping big punishing circles inside me, stretching me. He’s preparing me for him.