Page 76 of Wreck Me

‘Whatever is the matter?’ Vivienne’s head tilts as she glances up at James.

‘Scarlett and I are leaving.’ He extends his hand and motions for me to take it. ‘You’ve been monopolising her attention all night and I’d like some alone time with her before I head to New York on Monday.’

New York? It’s the first I’ve heard of it. But then again, I’m not his girlfriend. Not really. He’s not my boyfriend. He’s just pretending to be, whilst simultaneously wrecking my innocence, one life-affirming lesson at a time.

‘Ah, isn't that sweet?’ Vivienne coos.

‘It’s not sweet. It’s sexual,’ Caelon scoffs. Isabella slaps his forearm and tuts.

‘It’s both,’ James smirks. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse us.’

I turn to Vivienne, who stands and yanks me in for another over familiar embrace. ‘I’ll text you about the tapas restaurant. And the spa. And we’ll see you for Alex’s big birthday party, won’t we?’ Vivienne’s huge eyes dart between me and James.

‘You will,’ James promises his mother.

I can honestly say, this is the happiest birthday I’ve had in a long time. And it’s not over yet.

When we slip into the back of the waiting car, James stares at me with a promising gleam in his pupils. ‘You look fantastic tonight, Scarlett. Every man in the place wanted you tonight. But I’m the lucky fucker who gets to take you home.’

My stomach flips.

‘You never said anything about going to New York. ’ My voice cracks with disappointment.

‘I have to show my face in the New York office at least once every quarter. It’s a shame you have college, or I’d have asked you to come with me.’

‘If only,’ I groan. ‘I can’t wait to see a bit of the world after graduation. Dublin feels so small sometimes.’

‘There are so many beautiful places out there, but it takes seeing them all to appreciate that Dublin is one of them.’

It hasn’t been beautiful for me. It’s been a city of sorrow. Which is why I can’t wait to leave it behind. ‘I’ll take your word for it.’

Our eyes meet and something unspoken passes between us. It’s as if he wants to say something but he’s holding back.

As we pull up to the gates of his mansion, I gaze at the dome-shaped room at the top of the tower. When he gave methe tour the first night, we didn't make it that far. ‘What’s up there?’

James cranes forward to see where I’m pointing. ‘A sun room.’ His eyes slide sideways. The moonlight casts shadows across his face. ‘Though, I suppose it could double up as an observatory,’ he muses.

The house is silent when we enter. My rose gold Gucci heels click across the marble floor as James leads me to the stairs. ‘Should I get changed?’ I smooth a hand over the chiffon.

‘Absolutely not.’ His eyes roam over my exposed collarbone. ‘Give me one second.’ He raises his index finger, signalling me to stay put while he darts along the corridor. When he returns, it’s with a bottle of champagne tucked under his right arm and two crystal flutes in his hand.

I follow him up three flights of thick carpeted stairs and then up another set of narrower spiral steps that lead to the dome.

Moonlight floods through the floor to ceiling glass, casting a luminous glow across an L-shaped couch comprised of cream crushed suede. An inviting mountain of plump, fluffy cushions line the sofa. A deep-pile shaggy rug sits in the middle of the floor. It’s one of the most opulent rooms in the house, yet somehow the cosiest.

James’s chiselled features pinch together. ‘You like it?’

‘It’s incredible.’ I gaze up at the myriad of stars twinkling outside. They look almost close enough to touch. They’re definitely close enough to wish upon.

‘Come up here anytime. I like to read in here, when I have the time.’ He places the champagne flutes on a glass-topped table next to the couch.

‘What do you read?’ I smirk. ‘Other than Fifty Shades, that is.’

His lips curve as he twists and tugs the champagne corkuntil it pops with a delicious promise. I swallow thickly. Will that be the only thing he pops tonight? Or will tonight be the night I finally ditch the dreaded V-card?

For a man who was so keen to ‘touch me, taste me, and fuck me,’ he’s certainly been mastering a magnitude of restraint.

Why though?

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