Page 29 of The Surrender
“It sounds like she needs telling to stand down.”
He hums, frowning to himself. “Rhys and I talked about it over dinner. I think he’s actually listening to me. And I didn’t think pigs could fly.”
Now this is another side to Jude. The caring brother. I like it. “What does Rhys do?” I ask, remembering Jude talking about going to Ireland to try to sort out his drama.
“Plays rugby.”
“Ohhhh. Who for?”
“Dublin Harriers.” He raises his brow. “And England.”
“You’re kidding?” I breathe as Jude reaches for my laptop and snaps the lid shut.
The second the car rolls to a stop, he’s out, taking my bags and pulling me along behind him. “Not kidding. But if he carries on with the partying and getting himself in sticky situations, he’ll be thrown out of both teams.”
“Big brother to the rescue,” I say, smiling fondly at Jude’s suit-covered back as he leads the way.
Naturally, I peek into the Library Bar as we pass, seeing it’s busy. But no Katherine. I do see Anouska, though, talking to Clinton over the bar. They both look this way, smiling. It could just be me, but they look pleased to see me.
“The Amelia is going down a storm,” Jude says over his shoulder, an ironic smile on his face. I still can’t believe he’s named a cocktail after me. “Want one?”
“Maybe when I’ve finished working.”
He walks us up to his apartment and leads me into his bedroom, where he sits me on the bed. “Let’s sort that hand out,” he says. “Where are the dressings?”
“Can it wait until I’m finished working?”
“No.”
I drop my head back. “Jude, it’s stopped hurting, and the second I peel off this dressing, it’ll be sore again.” Typing with only one fully functioning hand is tricky enough without the added bonus of pain.
He frowns and takes my hand, checking it over. There’s no more blood than when we left London. It’s stopped bleeding. He must conclude the same because he relents and pulls off my heels, plumps the pillow, and gets me in place, opening my laptop and resting it on my thighs before getting my files and phone, putting them next to me. Then he disappears and returns a few minutes later with a bottle of water. “There,” he says, placing it on the nightstand. “Do you need anything else?”
I shake my head. “Thank you.”
“Oh, wait.” He’s off across the bedroom again, disappearing into the dressing room, and is back moments later carrying something.
“My hoodie?” I ask, setting my laptop aside.
“It was in the bag you left behind the night you ...” Jude’s lips twist. “It was in the bag.”
“And you went through it?”
“It was lying on top.” He sits on the edge of the bed and puts it over my head, feeding my hands through the sleeves carefully. “There.”He smiles down at it and leans forward, pushing his mouth to mine and holding it there for a few moments.Oh no.My body naturally responds and screams for him. “I want a cuddle that leads to sex when you’re done,” he whispers.
“Okay.”
Jude grins and gets up, leaving me in breathless anticipation on the bed. “I’ve got a few things to sort in my office,” he calls. “Work fast.”
He’s a man of his word. I’m left to power through my rewrites with no interruptions. I find an alternative plan to recommend, thank God, and the rest wasn’t half as painful as I feared. I’m wrapping up on my final letter just after eight when Jude appears in the doorway. His eyes jump from me to my open laptop as I look up at him through my lashes.
No.Focus. I’m nearly finished.
I get back to my screen to tweak the closing paragraph of my final letter, my good fingers working fast over the keys, the ones on my injured hand struggling to keep up. And it’s sore now. Achy.
My fingers pause on the keys when I feel the bed dip, and I see Jude kneel on the end in my lowered vision. Peeking up, I watch as he tugs at his tie.Fuck.I drop my eyes again, forgetting where I was, so I reread the last sentence.Based on this, my recom ...
My brain short-circuits, the feel of his hand wrapping around my ankle sending a rush of heat through me.
