Alex tosses the handbag I left behind onto the back seat. He fastens his seat belt, glances at me and starts the engine. The McLaren roars to life beneath us. He pulls calmly out of the parking space and joins the traffic, but the composure ends there. He drives fast, every movement precise and intensely focused. He does not look at me again.
His mind is clearly occupied by something. I am desperate to know what. He has very little patience for the cars stopping in front of us. He sounds the horn and gestures for them to move out of his way as if London’s roads exist solely for his convenience. I cannot understand how one man can be so attractive, so completely unhinged and so infuriating at the same time. I have no idea where we are going, although Alex clearly has a destination in mind.
When we join the motorway, unease begins to settle in my stomach. Where the hell are we going, Alex?
My stomach growls loudly enough to be heard over the engine. Mortification consumes me. Alex looks at me before returning his attention to the road.
“I’m assuming you haven’t eaten anything since this morning.”
He is entirely correct, but I am in no mood to agree with him. Not after he carried me away like an enraged bear. “I’m not hungry. Just take me home please.” His brows draw together slightly, and he gives me a look that makes his opinion perfectly clear. I cannot take my eyes off him.
He does not like that answer. A faint line appears between his brows before he turns back towards the road. “Where are you even taking me? You don’t know where I live.” I peer through the window, trying to make sense of the passing streets, then turn to him. “And this is definitely not the way to my flat.” There is a hint of genuine concern in my questions, but the sharp lines of his profile are making me melt where I sit.
My gaze falls to the hand wrapped around the steering wheel. I imagine it on me. “If you’ve finished staring at me, we’re going to get something to eat,” he says, a grin pulling at his mouth. I should never have given him that advantage. Then again, there is very little I seem capable of controlling when this man is near me.
A thousand thoughts dance through my head. What if Reece discovers what happened tonight? What if someone from the clinic hears about it and makes a complaint? I may never be able to work again. But he is so attractive. Oh God.
“I’m not hungry, Alex. And what we’re doing is completely unethical. We have a session on Friday. This is dangerous.” I probably should not have said that final part. His response comes with a dangerously measured calm. At the same time, I feel the car accelerate beneath us.
“What exactly do you think we’re doing that is so dangerous?”
The shiver moving over my skin does not make me any less irritated.
“After tonight, I can’t continue working with you. Do you understand? If someone tells Reece about this, I could lose my licence.”
His eyes find mine briefly. The hand around the steering wheel tightens. “That won’t happen. Don’t worry.” I turn towards the road and attempt not to think about anything. I fail immediately. Where are we going? I may be drunk, but I still possess at least a small degree of awareness.
“Where are we going, Alex?”
He does not take his eyes from the road. “To sober you up and feed you.” We continue at what feels like Formula One speed until the lights of London begin to fall behind us. For a while, neither of us speaks. The silence eventually becomes unbearable, so I reach towards the controls to turn on some music.
Alex reaches for them at the same moment. Our fingertips touch. He turns slightly towards me, takes my hand and lifts it to his mouth. His lips press against the back of it. A bolt of electricity shoots from my arm directly between my legs.
I cannot understand how he produces this reaction in me. He is driving me completely mad. I manage to remain still, but my breathing becomes heavier. My heart accelerates until I can feel every beat inside my chest. Alex notices the change. A wicked smile appears on his face. He does not move away.
Instead, he kisses my hand again before calmly placing it back on my thigh. “You do realise that running away from me changes nothing, don’t you, Caitríona?” Every time he says my name, a delicious sensation twists low in my stomach.
We need to escape this situation immediately, or I am going to lose every remaining scrap of control. Images of what he could do to me in bed move through my mind, and my heart continues pounding as if I have run a marathon. We absolutely must move away from this energy. I cannot survive this much sexual tension. Then quiet, sensual music fills the car. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. I can imagine us having sex to this music with such disturbing clarity that I close my eyes tightly and try to force the images from my mind.
I am far too drunk. Rosie, why were you so late? You and I are going to have words. I should never have ordered that last cocktail. The events of the evening begin replaying inside my head. Alex called Tom by name. He already knew who he was. How is that possible? Tom certainly did not appear to recognise Alex.
“Did you know Tom before tonight?”
Alex leans slightly towards me, an amused smile on his face. When he answers, his voice is low enough to belong in a bed rather than a car. “You didn’t honestly think I would share my secrets with a doctor I hadn’t researched, did you, Caitríona?”
What is that supposed to mean? What else does he know? Or worse, what secrets does he intend to share with me? Being so attracted to him while simultaneously wanting to strangle him is destroying my equilibrium.
After more time on the motorway, we turn onto a narrow country road bordered by trees. Their dark branches form a canopy above us, occasionally catching the sweep of the headlights. Eventually, we pass through enormous iron gates. The tyres crunch over gravel as we continue for what feels like another mile. Then the building appears. It resembles an ancient castle that has been restored and transformed into a hotel. Warm golden lights illuminate the night around it. Tall windows glow against the old stone walls, and a deep burgundy carpet stretches from the entrance towards the drive.
The entire place looks elegant, imposing and impossibly expensive. Alex follows the circular drive around a fountain in the front garden and stops precisely where the burgundy carpet begins. I stare at the building before turning towards him in disbelief.
“Have you actually brought me to a hotel, you absolute nutter?”
Alex looks entirely untroubled. A slow smile pulls at his mouth. “You lost your shoes. Dinner seemed overly ambitious.” “So you skipped straight to the hotel?”
“I’m adaptable.” He winks.
How can anyone be this handsome? And how can one beautiful man be this annoying? “Alex. I’m serious. What are we doing here?”
I should not have asked that question. His grins. “We’ll decide that later.”
Before I can respond, a valet opens Alex’s door. Alex steps out and walks around the car without any hurry. The valet moves towards my side at the same time, but Alex stops him with a small movement of his hand and opens my door himself. I begin attempting to climb out. Alex leans inside and unfastens my seat belt.
“Hold on.”
Before I can ask what he means, he bends and catches me beneath my thighs. He lifts me as easily as if I weigh nothing. A small scream escapes me. I throw my arms around his neck and wrap my legs tightly around his waist.
“Please bring the handbag from the back seat,” he tells the valet. Then he begins walking along the burgundy carpet. He carries me over its entire length without the slightest sign of effort, climbs the steps towards the entrance and pauses just before taking me inside.
He lowers his mouth towards my ear.
“You’re welcome.”
“You practically kidnapped me, you arrogant bastard!” He carries me through the doors.
“Manners,” he says in a perfectly normal voice.
“Manners? You’re carrying me into a hotel like a bloody caveman.”
He gives a quiet laugh. “You’re remarkably affectionate when you’ve been drinking.”
A beautiful woman around my age approaches from behind us. Her tailored uniform makes it clear that she works here. “Welcome back, Mr Ashcroft.” “Good evening, Irene.” Alex continues without saying anything more.
The interior is elegant and visibly expensive. Polished marble covers the floors, reflecting the warm, subdued lighting from above. The lobby furniture is unmistakably designer, although some of the darker wooden pieces appear to be genuine antiques. Several seating areas occupy the left side of the room. A large circular reception desk stands in the centre, and an arched entrance on the far right appears to lead towards a bar. Behind reception is an enormous Italian restaurant, glowing beneath warm chandeliers.
The hotel itself is not particularly busy. Only a few people are scattered across the lobby, sitting quietly in the armchairs or standing near reception. The restaurant appears far livelier. I can hear the gentle clatter of cutlery, the low swell of conversation and occasional bursts of laughter drifting through the open entrance. Unfortunately, the lack of people in the lobby only makes us more conspicuous. Every head turns as Alex carries me.
A couple seated near one of the windows pause in the middle of their conversation. A woman standing at reception looks at us, quickly looks away, then glances back as if she cannot help herself. Even the members of staff appear to be making a determined effort to keep their expressions perfectly neutral. They are all pretending that a huge man carrying a shoeless, slightly drunk woman through the lobby like an unruly child is an entirely ordinary sight. It is not working. I am being publicly humiliated. I press my face into Alex’s neck, hoping that if I cannot see anyone staring, perhaps they cannot see me either. “Everyone is looking at us,” I whisper. “They’ll recover.” “Put me down.” “No.” “Alex, this is mortifying.” “You’ll survive.” Easy for him to say. He is walking through the hotel as if he owns the place, perfectly composed, while I am wrapped around him with my bare feet dangling behind his back.
As Alex carries me further inside, several members of staff greet him by name. “Good evening, Mr Ashcroft.” “Welcome back, sir.” He acknowledges each of them with a brief inclination of his head, never slowing his pace. How does he know so many people here? More importantly, how do they all know him? I lift my head slightly and look at his face. “Do you know everyone in this hotel?”
“Almost.”
“Why?” His eyes flick towards mine. “You ask too many questions.”
“And you answer none of them.” He continues across the marble floor as if this settles the matter. I return my face to his neck, partly to hide from the people still watching us and partly because he smells far too good for my own peace of mind.
I am breathing in his scent. Hopefully, I am being subtle. The palms supporting me just beneath my bottom tighten as I press closer to the warm skin of his neck. A tiny sound escapes me. It sounds horribly like a moan. I want the marble floor to open and swallow me. Alex, however, seems delighted.
He bends towards my ear again. “Was that a moan I just heard?” My entire face burns, but whether because of the alcohol or simple shamelessness, it does not occur to me to lift my head from that delicious place beside his neck. The hotel entrance is so vast that it takes us several moments to reach reception. Alex walks straight past it and enters a corridor on the right.
“Do you bring all the women you abduct here?” This time, he does not laugh.
“Very funny. It’s time for you to eat. You’re beginning to talk complete nonsense.” Infuriating man. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not hungry?” I hit him once between the shoulder blades. Unfortunately, removing one hand from around his neck disrupts my balance, and I immediately cling to him more tightly.
“All this violence is becoming rather inappropriate, don’t you think?”
“Not at all. You deserve every bit of it.” My head is beginning to spin far too much.
The corridor is impossibly long. No matter how far Alex walks, it does not seem to end. I finally realise that the dizziness may no longer be caused solely by alcohol. I am starving. As if determined to expose me, my stomach growls again.
“When are you going to stop lying?” Alex asks. “You’re a shit liar, Caitríona.”
I answer without hesitation. “When you leave me alone.”
“You’re adorable when you’re angry.” Fortunately, we finally reach the end of the corridor.
Alex continues supporting me beneath my bottom with one arm. With the other, he reaches into his pocket, produces a key and unlocks the door.
Thank you so much for reading 🖤 I’d love to know what your favourite part of this chapter was, so come and tell me in the comments! And if you enjoyed it, please leave a like and restack it. Every little bit of love helps more readers find True Affliction and keeps the daily chapters coming. 🖤
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