Unbound (26 page)

“Why don’t we keep going?” I ask, confused.

Jonathan leans back against the upholstery.

“Because I don’t have any condoms in the bloody car,” he says. “And besides, it’s probably not a very good idea to get out of the car completely dishevelled, when I’m afraid there are going to be a few paparazzi waiting for us.”

Naturally, I think, taken aback, and blinking, I’m brought back to reality at once.

Jonathan presses the button of the intercom that connects him with the driver’s cab.

“Take us home, Steven,” he says shortly, and releases the button again.

“Home?” My heart is still racing, but reality has intruded on my dream world and brought me abruptly back down to earth.

Jonathan nods. “It’ll be better if you come to my place for now, till we know what impact the article is having. Then we’ll take it from there.”

He seems calm and collected, not at all the way he was in the hospital room earlier, when he was arguing with his father—or just now, when he was kissing me so passionately. A chill creeps over me and I scoot a little further away from him.

“What can we do?”

Jonathan shrugs his shoulders. “Not a lot. Wait till it’s over.”

I swallow hard. Till it’s over. Exactly. Because at some point it will be over. Perhaps soon.

Everything I’ve been managing to repress suddenly overwhelms me again, and fear rises inside me when I realize that my relationship with Jonathan doesn’t have a future.

Nothing’s changed—even though I’d like to think so. I’m nothing more than an interlude, which will be just as quickly over for him as the encounters with those models he meets at receptions and parties. Just one encounter among many, with no consequences for him—but definitely some for me.

Because it’s the women who are damaged by the rumors, not him. He can afford to have one or two stories about him in the press; it’s all just water off a duck’s back. He’s rich and independent and not looking for a relationship, so for him it’s all a bit annoying at most. But I, on the other hand, am in danger of losing everything—not just my heart. Suddenly, I realize the full implications of the news story: my internship is in jeopardy, and so is my reputation in the industry. What if my professors back home find out about the affair? Will they still take me seriously? Would anyone still take me seriously—or will I be dismissed as a bimbo?

And I can’t even blame Jonathan, because he made no secret of what I was getting myself into with him. But the price I would now pay suddenly seems too high, after all.

I shake my head with new determination. I need time to think. And what we did just now proves pretty unambiguously that I am unable to do that when Jonathan is nearby. “No,” I say in a firm voice. “I want to go back to the apartment today.”

Jonathan looks at me in astonishment. “Don’t be silly, Grace. That’s not a good idea. The photographers are probably already waiting for you there. I’ll deal with it, and for the time being you’ll stay with me.”

I see, I think. Not we’ll deal with it, but I’ll deal with it. Probably in a way that makes him look good. Who cares what happens to the intern?

“And are you going to deal with it in a way that helps me?” I can feel my anger building up. “Or am I going to have to take the fall for this?”

His gaze turns steely and he examines me silently for a moment. He’s obviously not at all happy that I answered him back. “I don’t understand you, Grace. What do you expect from me?” Nothing, I think sadly. I don’t have the right to expect anything. The Prince Charming solution has been ruled out, after all.

“The situation is difficult for me, too,” he says, when I don’t respond.

“But not as difficult as it is for me.” Tears rush to my eyes and I have trouble holding them back.

Can’t he understand, or does he not want to understand? I suddenly feel so stupid and naive. But he always manages to make me feel like that.

“I wish you’d never asked me to work for you,” I say, pressing the intercom button. “Steven, could you stop for a moment please?”

The limousine immediately slows down and stops at the curb a moment later.

“What are you doing?” Jonathan asks sharply, when I open the door.

“I’m getting out here,” I explain.

“Grace, be reasonable. You can’t run away from this.”

“I don’t intend to. But I think it would be better if weren’t seen together, for now.” I take a deep breath. “So I would prefer to work in the investment department again, from tomorrow.”

“That won’t change anything about the story, Grace,” Jonathan warns me. “It’s too late for that.”

We look at each other in silence. He’s right, I think. It’s much too late. I should have pulled the plug on this long ago. Before he can stop me, I get out. When I look back into the car I can see from Jonathan’s facial expression and his pursed lips that he’s not happy with my reaction. Not at all.

“If you leave now, you might be in for a highly unpleasant experience,” he says in that dangerously calm voice that only makes me even angrier.

“I’m already having one,” I spit back at him, and slam the door shut.

A moment later, the black limousine drives off again and I’m left behind, trembling, distraught, and much sadder than I dare admit.

After the comfortable security of the limousine, which I’ve already got so used to, the city around me seems alien and unpleasantly stuffy. But perhaps that’s just because I’m so upset. I have no idea where I am, and it takes me a while to get my bearings. Luckily, Londoners are extremely used to being approached by lost tourists, and they help me find my way. It turns out that I’m very close to Victoria Embankment and Blackfriars Bridge, not that far from London Wall, where the Huntington Building is. But first I head for a cafe I spotted, a branch of Starbucks, which is pleasantly familiar to me, and buy myself a large iced cappuccino. The glass is nice and cold and I press it gratefully against my hot cheeks while I consider what to do next.

I look at the time. It’s actually only just a little after two, even though the day felt much longer to me, because so much happened. Theoretically, I should go back to the company now and, as Jonathan won’t be there—I assume he’s going back to the hospital to see his sister—I could go and report straight to the investment department, as I announced I would. But somehow I’m still too exhausted to do that, I have to pull myself together first. So I decide to go back home.

When I get to the subway, I have to get my bearings first, to find the right line — but luckily it’s not so far. A good half hour later, I’m opening the front door in Islington after searching for my key in my purse for what seemed like an eternity. But, luckily, it’s there.

I look around a little nervously before I go in, but the street is totally quiet, there are no photographers lying in wait behind the corners of buildings or besieging the entrance. So much for being interesting, I think with a wry smile—but I’m relieved, nevertheless.

It’s quiet upstairs in the apartment, and I’m alone. Ian is at his tattoo studio and Annie is at the office, of course, but Marcus might have been here. He’s obviously out too, which is a great relief. I could really do with a bit of peace and quiet right now.

The first thing I do is withdraw to the bathroom. I’d like to shower, but unfortunately the showerhead on the old bathtub doesn’t really work, the water dribbles out and it’s difficult to set the right temperature. So I run a bath and add a generous amount of Annie’s bubble bath, hoping she’ll forgive me. After all, this is an emergency.

The water is glorious and it really does me good to immerse myself in the fragrant foam. I can feel my muscles relaxing and for a moment I close my eyes and let go, enjoying the peace and quiet. But this state doesn’t last long, unfortunately, because when I accidentally touch one of my nipples with my hand, I notice how sensitive they are after Jonathan’s caresses in the car just now. And I immediately visualize the things we did, what he did to me—his image forces its way into my head, and I can’t get rid of it again.

My thoughts are going around in circles again. I can’t find a way out of the situation; it seems intractable. Or does it? There is a solution, but I don’t like it at all. Because if I want to get through this press thing safe and sound with my career prospects intact, I’ll have to keep my distance from Jonathan — something I really don’t want to do. Because he’s the most fascinating man I’ve ever met, and I could get truly addicted to being near him. Perhaps I already am, if you consider how little he has to do to get me to have sex with him in the most unlikely places—and that the memory of what he does to me is enough to turn me on.

But for me, it’s more than just sex, and if he really can’t see any future for us, if he can’t fall in love at all or simply doesn’t love me—then perhaps it’s better if I leave now, before he really hurts me.

Now I’m too restless to be able to enjoy my bath, so I wash my hair quickly and get out of the tub again. I sling a towel around my wet hair and dry myself off. Since I’m alone, I’m about to slip quickly back into my room, naked, to get dressed in there—but, with my hand already on the doorknob, I hear the apartment door opening and someone coming in. It must be Marcus.

With a sigh, I sling a big bath towel around my body, tucking it in above my breasts, and redo my hair turban. But when I go out into the hallway the person standing in front of me isn’t Marcus—it’s Annie. She looks as astonished as I am, when she sees me.

“What are you doing here?” I’m happy to see her, but I don’t understand what she’s doing back so early.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she says, smiling weakly. Suddenly I spot the copy of
Hello!
rolled up in her hand, and swallow. Annie notices my glance and looks at me with her “We’ll-talk-about-that-later” look in her eyes, before going into the kitchen. I follow her uncertainly.

“I wasn’t feeling well so I came home,” he explains, as she fills the kettle with water and puts it on the stove. “I think I’m coming down with something.”

Now I remember that she complained of a headache this morning at breakfast.

She looks over her shoulder at me. “Would you like a cup of tea too?”

I nod and get two mugs out of the cupboard.

“I’ll do it,” I say and Annie gratefully leaves it up to me to make the tea. She dissolves a painkiller in a glass of water and puts it on the table. When I come back over to her with the two steaming mugs, she takes the magazine, which is lying on the bench next to her, and pushes it into the middle of the table. She points one finger accusingly at the picture of Jonathan and me.

“Grace, I think you’ve been keeping something from me, haven’t you?”

Although I knew this was coming, I turn red and look at her unhappily.

“I wanted to tell you, honestly. But I just didn’t know how. It’s all so—complicated. And you always warned me about him.”

“But it didn’t help, did it?” Annie raises her eyebrows. “You fell in love with him anyway.”

I nod unhappily because there’s simply no point in denying it. And Annie doesn’t yell at me, quite the opposite. She looks at me compassionately, almost as if this didn’t come as a surprise to her.

“OK, so I want to know what happened—start at the beginning,” she says, and I willingly tell her everything, from the first moment at the airport to our fight in the limousine just now. Once I get started, I can’t stop, although I choose to leave out some of the details. And the more I talk, the more I realize that Annie was right to warn me all along. Jonathan is a danger to my peace of mind. I might be the first employee he’s actually had sex with—but he’s not prepared to allow himself any feelings or any kind of closeness, even with me.

“What should I do now?” I ask her helplessly, when I’m done.

Annie stirs her tea thoughtfully for a long time.

“It’s a really tricky situation,” she says, in the epitome of understatement. She looks up and purses her lips. “I wish you’d listened to me.”

I lean back in my chair with a deep sigh.

“I wish I had too, believe me. But there’s nothing I can do about it now.”

“Yes there is. Grace, you can still do something about it. But you have to want to. Just stay away from Jonathan Huntington. He’s not good for you.” Annie says it so passionately that I’m truly shocked.

“He’s not a monster, Annie,” I defend him.

“No, I know.” She smiles weakly. “He’s a great boss and everything, he really is—but he can be unbelievably ruthless when it comes to his relationships with women.”

“What do you mean?”

Annie looks at me. “I told you about the club, right?”

I nod apprehensively. The idea of Jonathan going there—that he might have gone straight there after I got out of the limousine—is something I’d rather not think about right now. “What about it?”

Annie hesitates before continuing. “The story about Claire—I haven’t told you everything,” she says. “Claire was really very much in love with him, and I think he knew that. You couldn’t miss it, actually, but he just ignored it anyway. When she found out that he often goes to that club, she tried to get in. She was really obsessed with the idea that it was her one chance to get to know him better. But you can’t get in if you’re just an ordinary mortal; it’s very exclusive. She kicked up a huge fuss but it was no use. The next day, Jonathan called her in to see him and when she came back from the meeting she was as white as a sheet, and didn’t want to talk about what had happened between them. Then she gave in her notice and rushed back to Edinburgh immediately.” Annie looks at me almost pleadingly. “Grace, do you understand? On the surface, he seems to be a great guy, no question about it—but I think what none of you realise is that there are sides to him that are anything other than nice. That’s why I find his interest in you more worrying than encouraging. Perhaps it would be better if you didn’t find out what kind of a man he really is.” She sighs. “So it would probably be best if you gave up your internship.”

“Give it up? But I’ve been here for less than three weeks!” I protest.

“The entire company is talking about you.” Annie says this quietly, as if she finds it difficult to admit it to me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and my heart suddenly starts racing as she confirms what Jonathan had predicted.