Page 163 of Fighting Mr. Knight

Fuck, how am I’m going to say this?

I have to do this. I’ll look back with regret if I don’t. If it’s meant to be between Jack and me, then it’s meant to be.

“My first assignment is in Astana,” I blurt out.

His frown is back. “Astana,” he repeats. “Astana,Kazakhstan?”

“Yup.” I smile weakly.

He nods slowly. “For how long?”

“Six months.”

“The fuck?”He jerks his head up, nearly headbutting me. He pulls back to stare at me.

“Kazakhstan is leading the way in cutting-edge architecture,” I ramble nervously. “The perfect storm of soviet, medieval and modernism. And, uh . . .” I fade off, wilting under his gaze. He doesn’t want to discuss Astana’s architecture.

“It’s only a ten-hour flight and one stopover,” I squeak.

“Fuck.” His head flops back onto the pillow in defeat. With his eyes closed, he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Jack?” I whisper, not blinking. I prod his chin willing him to look at me.

Silence.

When he opens his eyes again, he’s shaking his head with a small smile. “I guess I’ll be doing a lot of trekking in the next few months. We’ll get you some good hiking boots.”

I breathe out tentatively. “So, we’ll be okay? You can do the distance for a while?”

This time his smile reaches his eyes. Under the covers, his arms tighten around my waist. “We’ll bemorethan okay, Bonnie. It’s six months. We’ll make it work.”

Relief floods me.

“I’ll put a picture of you up in my office,” he says with a hint of a scowl. “Since I won’t get to see you. Maybe you can do a mosaic for me. Preferably made up of naked pictures of you.”

I laugh.

“And I’ve got a private plane, so I’ll get the journey down to seven hours.”

The perks of being a billionaire.

I smile brightly down at him, my hand mindlessly circling his nipple ring. “Maybe I’m pushing my luck here but there’s one more thing.”

He groans. “Jesus Christ, don’t say the next assignment is in Australia or somewhere.”

“No.” I laugh. “It’ll be back to London. I’m going on my honeymoon.”

He shakes his head, not understanding.

“Max and I were supposed to go to Svalbard,” I explain. “You know the island in the Antarctic, part of Norway? Max went with Olivia.” I pause. “So, I’m taking myself. When it’s hot enough to go again.”

“I’lltake you,” he says grumpily. “You don’t even have to ask.”

“I know,” I say delicately. “But I feel like I need to do this alone.”

His eyes are stormy as he processes that.

I get it. A large part of me is screaming not to do this. To stay in London and be with Jack every night.

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