31 Days of Winter (54 page)

‘It just makes no sense, babe. The file I sort of
get, not the level of detail he went to, but this Davenport guy is obviously
super rich and he’s not going to want any old Tom, Dick, or Harry staying in
his holiday home, is he?’

‘I guess not, but a copy of a police report on my
mum and dad? Zac’s STD test results?’

‘A step too far, I totally agree. Setting that
aside, this Dan’s actions say he really cares about you Ellie, you weren’t just
a notch on his bedpost. Maybe his marriage
is
over, you never gave him a
chance to explain.’

‘Brooke, don’t you
dare
defend him. He had
plenty of chances to explain, before he even did anything sexual to me. He
knows what he did was wrong, that’s why he didn’t want to tell me his secret.
He knew “Hey, I’m married” would put him straight on my
don’t go there again,
Ellie
list.’

‘Well if nothing else, you’ve learned what being
properly in love is like, along with seriously great sex. You won’t put up with
any shit sexual relationships from now on,’ she suggested. I had to laugh and
agree and told her my theory on my invisible tattoo. ‘Yeah you sure get them,
babe. Maybe it says “
Open for Dicks
.”’

‘O thanks, that makes it sound like I just lie
there with my legs spread for any old passer-by to poke me,’ I exclaimed as I
slapped her arm.

‘Shit it does a bit, doesn’t it!’ she laughed.
‘Ok, I’ll go with
“Arseholes Welcome Here”
but we need to change it to
“Arseholes
NOT Welcome Here
” which won’t be a problem, because I’m going to vet them
all for you first.’

‘What, Oliver Davenport and Dan style with a
detailed bloody report?’

‘Well no, I can’t afford a Private Investigator,
but I can ask cunningly designed questions to trip them up, speak to their
friends and follow them.’

‘It’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?’

‘Worth it if I don’t have to see you so hurt over
a guy again. He really got to you, didn’t he, babe?’

‘He really did,’ I nodded with a sigh. ‘So what
sort of questions would you ask?’

‘I’d do that little trick you did on me, the one
where you got me to admit women were my preference. I’d settle them in first
with a load of questions to make them feel comfortable. You know, stuff guys
love talking about, like sports, their penis extension cars, their penises,
job, status, financial worth,’ she shrugged. ‘Then I’d hit them with “What’s
your girlfriends name” or “How big’s your cock really?”’

‘I’m not interested in their financial status,
Brooke. If my inappropriate fling with Dan has taught me anything it’s that I
quite liked having a simple life, with a guy that wasn’t obsessed by making
money.’

‘Whatever, money helps and don’t deny it doesn’t.
People can be happy without it, but they’re even happier with it. No rich
person’s going to wake up in a swank pad like this every morning and think, “I
know what will make me happy, giving it all away so I’m poor.” Anyway, I’ll fire
a barrage of questions at them and they’ll be like me, they’ll snap back the
right answer and voila, Dick’s your Uncle.’

‘Bob’s your Uncle,’ I corrected.

‘I thought it was Dick?’

‘No, it’s Bob.’

‘Why Bob?’ she asked with a puzzled frown. ‘And
what does that expression even mean?’

‘You used it,’ I laughed.

‘Well yeah, because everyone says it. Like “No use
crying over spilt milk.” But why milk? You’d be crying over spilt expensive
Champagne not bloody milk, that stuff is really cheap.’

‘They’re expressions that have been handed down
through the ages, I’m sure if you look them up on the internet you’d find out
what their origins were.’

‘You know what, we’re going to make a list and
investigate right now. That will take your mind off Arsehole Three and give us
a laugh.’

‘Really? Two young attractive girls are staying in
on a Saturday night Googling age old expressions?’ I sighed.

‘You’re tired and you’re going to have an early
night in your new home. And we’re also going to look up all the freaky things
as well.’

‘What freaky things?’

‘Like, why do you never see a baby pigeon? How do
dwarfs that live in the Penthouse press the Penthouse button in the lift? It’s
always the top one and they’d never reach it. Surely they could sue lift
manufacturers for discrimination against height challenged people?’

‘Seriously?’ I laughed. ‘You need more shifts or
sex if you have time to be thinking about things like that.’

‘Come on, it will be fun. You think of one to
ask.’

‘Ok, how about, why are redheads all beauty and no
brains?’ I teased.

‘Take that back! Why are blondes all beauty and
the bitch?’

‘You know what, if I had to compare my ridiculous
infatuation with Dan it would be to
Beauty and the Beast,
right up to
the moment he was about to reveal himself.’

‘Beast by name, beast in trousers,’ she nodded.

‘O, yeah,’ I sighed as I was hit by a visual of his
pure masculinity with his large member.

‘Ok, this was supposed to be taking your mind off
him. Let’s do the dwarf one first, I’m intrigued.’

‘You’re on,’ I smiled as I poured her more wine.
‘I really missed you, Brooke.’

‘I really missed you too, but now you’re living in
this sweet pad, so close to all the bars and restaurants of Kensington and a
short tube ride from Stockbroker and Banker central, I’m going to be virtually
living with you.’

‘Sounds good to me,’ I nodded as I leaned over and
gave her a hug and a kiss. She was right, I needed to do things to forget Dan
and move on. I just wasn’t sure how easy it would be, or how long it was going
to take. He’d seriously messed with my head and my heart. At least I had
Brooke, this amazing new house, and my new job to look forward to and distract
me. I lay down and put my head in her lap and listened as she excitedly told me
her findings from my iPad as I tried to push Dan’s devastated face as I’d
walked to the plane out of my mind.

Dan

I should have known myself
better, I
couldn’t
walk away, I’d never been able to walk away when I
wanted something. My strength to resist Ellie for so long had surprised me, I’d
never worked so hard at anything in my life as I had in trying not to taste
her, to know what it would feel like to bury myself in her, to show her how
amazing sex could be, how amazing
she
could be. She was so full of
self-doubt of her sexual worth, I told myself I was doing it to boost her
self-confidence, that it was all for her benefit. But, as ever, I’d done it for
selfish reasons, it was for me, I’d wanted her that badly. Other than Rebecca,
I’d never wanted another woman the way I wanted Ellie. Not even my wife Moira. She’d
just been a gold digger, a girl who’d realised my real identity and tricked me
into marriage with a pregnancy. Given the loss of Rebecca and my son, I felt
obliged to do the honourable thing, what good that had done me.

I’d hardly slept that night Ellie left me at the
airport. I’d moved back into my house and into my bed, the bed she’d slept in
for the last few weeks. She’d washed the sheets, there was no scent of her on
them at all, no evidence of her stay, except in my memories. The house felt
empty and cold without her. I’d tossed and turned all night, trying to convince
myself that staying away from her
was
the right thing, but I’d succumbed
and had booked my helicopter pilot to come and collect me and we’d landed in
London a couple of hours ago. It was already eight o’clock as I sat in the car
at the end of Pavilion Mews as my driver let the engine idle while I tried to
make my mind up.

‘Wait here for me James, I’ll let you know if you
can leave,’ I advised him as I opened the door and stepped out onto the cobbled
street.

‘Certainly, Sir,’ he replied. I chuckled to
myself. Ellie had said “Home, James” to me when I’d carried her, saying all
rich people had chauffeurs called James. Little did she know I was one of them.
I wondered if finding out that I was actually Oliver Daniel Davenport,
billionaire CEO of the 11
^th
largest software firm in the world would
make a difference to her? All the duplicity had been because I hadn’t wanted
her to know my real identity, it had been so long since a woman sparked any
form of sexual desire in me, let alone from just a photo, that I wanted to know
if it was me that she was interested in, not my money like most of the women
that came before her. And she was genuinely interested in
me
, she’d
fallen for “Dan” the hired help, the guy who just did manual chores and chopped
logs for a living.
Fuck, I’d no idea how physical chopping all those damn
logs was,
I thought to myself as I made my way down to her house. Mr.
McAdams, my caretaker, was too old to be doing that, and I’d take over from him
when he got back from his Christmas break. In fact, I was lucky that Ellie
cooked. I was so used to his wife, my housekeeper, preparing all of my evening
meals, I’d have bloody wasted away on damn soup and sandwiches. I decided I was
going to get Mrs. McAdams to show me how to cook for myself when they returned
from their extended Christmas break. They’d been delighted when I’d packed them
up at short notice and sent them to my holiday home on another private island
in the Caribbean, so I could move into the boathouse to make my persona seem even
more authentic to Ellie. In fact, other than a handful of people, Moira, her
parents, Pete, Conn, and Mr. and Mrs. McAdams, no one in Scotland knew I was
Ollie Davenport. I was just Dan, the friend of the billionaire who owned the
island and did chores.

I walked down the street and stopped at my front
door. I tried to remember the last time I’d slept here and let out a surprised
grunt to realise it was the day before my wedding, before I’d flown up to Scotland
to get married. Other than the occasional board meeting, which I tied into a
visit to see my parents, I rarely came to London anymore. I felt too much guilt
missing my daily commitments back home. I raised my hand to knock on the front
door and hovered with my knuckles millimetres from the solid wood as I heard
laughter coming from inside the kitchen. The thought that she could have
another man in there already speared my chest, then I reminded myself this was
Ellie, until me she wasn’t like that, she didn’t just throw herself at guys. I
moved to look through the window. She’d closed the wooden shutters, but they
only covered the bottom half of the window, for someone as tall as me I had no
problem seeing over the top of them.

I gulped as I saw her sitting at the island with a
glass of wine in her hand, laughing as she talked and I breathed a sigh of
relief. It was that redhead friend of hers, thank God. Ellie looked really
tired, it was obvious she’d been crying again and I winced at what I’d put her
through, but seeing her laughing now warmed my heart. I really loved her
laughter. She got up off her stool and stirred something cooking on the hob,
brought the spoon to her lips, tasted and then licked them. I found myself
automatically licking my own, imagining it was my lips she was tasting again. The
memory of how soft and willing they’d been, how she’d just surrendered to me,
made my cock jerk instantly. I blew out a breath and my fists clenched at my
sides as stress and sexual tension coursed through my body. I shook myself down
and ran through in my head what I was going to say as she opened the door. Hopefully
I’d take her by surprise and have a chance to get it all out before she slammed
the door in my face or told me to fuck off, which I’d already steeled myself
for. Why wouldn’t she? I’d not been truthful about my real name, my identity,
my marital status. I’d concealed where I went every day and why. I ran my hands
over my face and shook my head.
What the fuck are you thinking, Ollie? That
she’d still want you after you laid all that on her?
I thought. I suddenly
realised how stupid I was being, she’d never want me when I came clean, she’d
hate me even more than she already did.

I watched her laugh again and break into a smile
as she propped her stunning face on her knuckles and listened to Brooke
talking. No, Ellie Baxter was better off without another arsehole like me in
her life. I needed to walk away. She had a good job, a great friend and a nice
house to live in now. I planned to save the rent that she was paying me and
give it back to her at the end of her tenancy agreement, to help her buy that
little cottage in the country she’d always dreamed of. I just hated the thought
of her starting a life there with anyone but me. I felt my stomach knot as I
remembered falling asleep with her that last night we were together. She didn’t
know I was still awake, that I’d heard her whisper in a mumbled daze. I remembered
every word, I’d memorised them and repeated them to myself so many times, not
quite able to believe it.

‘I know you’ll never know, but I love you, Dan.
I know I shouldn’t and that you won’t care, but I just needed to tell you. I
really love you. I really, really do.’

I’d been so happy, shocked but happy, to know that
she
had
fallen for me without all my money and status. She’d really
fallen in love with Dan the hired help, and she’d fallen so hard it had humbled
me. I’d stayed awake all that night just holding her in my arms, watching her
as she slept, marvelling that this incredibly beautiful, generous and loving
woman had such deep feelings for
me
. But along with the sunrise
signalling a new day, a day where I had no ice to use as an excuse not to honour
my commitments, the inevitable guilt came over me. I’d written her a note and
fled like a damn coward, too scared of saying goodbye to her face, knowing I’d
probably cave and make things harder for us both.

Having that time away from her though was painful,
and when I finally realised my own feelings for her, I knew I didn’t want to
lose her. I’d headed back to the island, resolved to come clean, about
everything, but she’d already packed up and left. I’d found a text from Pete
sent about forty minutes earlier, telling me he was taking her to the airport.
So I’d raced there to try and stop her. As soon as I got a decent phone signal
I listened to my voice messages along the way. I’d sworn and punched the
steering wheel multiple times when I heard her voicemail rant and realised
she’d found out I was married. I also couldn’t understand how the hell she’d
found that damn file, I’d kept it locked in my desk drawer. I’d realised that I
must’ve left it open when I’d got my printer out and set it up for her. I’d
sworn again and put my foot down feeling completely gutted as that wasn’t the
way she was supposed to find out, I was supposed to have told her.

But she had, and here I was, back in London,
watching her sitting at my kitchen island. I’d come with all intentions of
telling her the complete truth, but seeing her laugh, rationalising what I was
about to do to her by laying all of my shit on her, I just couldn’t do it. She
needed to move on without me. She didn’t need to know the rest of my secrets,
least of all why I disappeared nearly every day. If the knowledge that I was
married had hurt her this badly, the rest of my news would probably break her. My
heart sank as I gently touched the window, from this angle it felt as if I were
stroking her soft cheek.

‘Ellie,’ I sighed. ‘I know you’ll never know, but
I really,
really,
do too.’

She frowned and suddenly looked over at the
window, right at me, but I knew she was just reacting to a sound she’d heard,
the muffled noise of my voice, or maybe she sensed me. Either way, she wouldn’t
be able to see me in the dark. I lingered for a moment, taking in her high
cheekbones, those stunning green eyes, beautiful lips and soft long luminous
hair, and cursed as she turned back to face Brooke. I had those pictures we’d
taken in the snow of her, and my memories, but nothing compared to looking at
her in the flesh. I felt my stomach twist and my chest hurt as I studied her. I
missed her. Missed her like she’d been a massive part of my life for years.
Married or not, Ellie Baxter was the woman I was meant to spend my life with, I
just knew it. Sadly she never would, I had to try to do the noble thing. Again.

I reluctantly turned and walked away, to head back
to my life before she’d breezed into it, an even more broken man than I’d been
before I met her.

Thank you so much for reading
31 Days of
Winter
.

If you enjoyed it, please could you spare a
moment to leave a review for me? They mean so much to authors, they help new
readers discover our work and make all the long hours sat alone at our
keyboards creating these stories so worthwhile!

CJF x