Miles was woken up by his mobile ‘phone going off; he had fallen asleep fully clothed on top of the covers and felt stiff and uncomfortable. He suddenly remembered that he had been waiting up, hoping to get a response to his text from Rose. He grabbed the ‘phone.
It was Bill. And it was 0500.
“Miles?”
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“Sorry to call so early but you told me you wanted to know immediately we managed to track down Max.”
Miles sat up.
“Where is he?”
“In rehab for addiction to alcohol and prescription pills. It’s a clinic in Hampshire, England, in the New forest. It’s called Oaklands. Francesca reckons it’s a two to three hour drive from London, tops. I’ve got someone keeping an eye on the place in case he decides to do a runner. Francesca is desperate to go and see him but I’ve persuaded her to wait until you and I had talked. Once he knows we’ve discovered him he may try to disappear."
“OK, what are our options?”
“Well, we can do nothing, just wait for him to dry out and if he does decide to leave without telling us, we can trail him. Once he’s sober we can tackle him over the scam with the ‘photos.”
“Or we can go visit him and insist on meeting with him whatever state he’s in.”
“We can get the police involved, report what he did with the ‘photos as a blackmail attempt, but I’d prefer to get all our ducks in a row before taking that option. I’m still trying to trace who the people in the photographs are; he may have hired them through an agency of some kind, models or actors. But if we do find them and they are prepared to make a witness statement we may be closer to nailing him legally……..assuming that is what you decide to do.”
“How is Francesca,” Miles diverted. Bill was after all, talking about his future brother-in-law.
“She’s upset obviously, and wants desperately to see him. But if you’re worried about a conflict of interest, don’t be; Francesca understands I have a job to do.”
“Although”, he conceded, “I anticipate a tense situation should it come to prosecution and jail.”
“Hmmm,” Miles was listening carefully to Bill and trying to quickly assess what was for the best.
“I want to go to the clinic,” he decided.
“I’ll go with Francesca if she’ll let me, and I’d like to go as soon as possible. Even if I don’t get to see him personally I want to look at where he is, find out as much as I can about what state he’s in and when I’m likely to be able to see him face to face. Once I’ve done that I’ll have a better idea of what steps to take next. Bill, where are you, in London or the US?”
“I’m in London; if you don’t mind I’d like to come with you too.”
“Sure. I’ll have a car pick you both up, I’ll be in it. Just text me to let me know what time we leave.”
“Will do,” said Bill and rang off.
Miles checked his messages and missed calls. Nothing. Rose had not responded to his text from last night.
Miles punched the bedcovers hard.
“Idiot,” he shouted to himself. What the hell had possessed him to press the send button?
In the quiet of the early morning, he could see his message was likely to be interpreted as just some stupid, manipulative move. He should never have sent it.
The thing was, he had felt so emotional after spending a day with her and LLoyd that all he could think about when he got back to his flat alone was the fact that he was alone and that it was his lack of trust of her and misplaced trust in Max that had put him in this position. He’d had a couple of beers, another mistake, and had been desperate to tell Rose how much he still loved her. Why the hell hadn’t he called her instead?
Even after just a couple of days in the company of their baby son he felt a tender and unquestioning love for him and being apart from him and Rose made his heart ache. When she had let rip at him in the Aquarium he had felt momentarily hopeless. How was he ever going to overcome her distrust of him? Even now, her words kept replaying in his head.
“you denied that LLoyd was yours……when I was hospitalized did you give a shit about your son then?........Lloyd may only have been a three month old foetus, but he was as much your son then as he is now and you walked out on both of us…….when are you going to have an honest and up front conversation with me about your intentions towards Lloyd?”
He stripped and sat on the edge of the bed. He knew that it may take a long time to win back Rose but he was determined that he would; he had never easily ceded defeat in his life and now, with the future of his son at stake he was not about to start.
He wanted the three of them to live together as a family and that was what he was going to work towards, whatever it took. He didn’t want Rose to bring up their son alone or with anyone else. He wanted all legal rights to his son. Lloyd would have the Seton name and all the privilege it entailed.
Suddenly it occurred to Miles that he had no idea what surname Lloyd did carry, or in fact whether Rose had named him as father on the birth certificate. God, what a botch he’d made of the whole thing. What it came down to was that he had to find a way to persuade Rose to marry him; he wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less. Rose had loved him once; surely she would learn to love him again.
He changed into the sweats he used for working out and headed to the gym in the basement of the residential block he lived in. It was open 24 hours, to reflect the needs of the residents, a fair proportion of whom lived and worked abroad like Miles or had jobs that demanded long hours.
As he worked out, easing in to the routine that his personal trainer had designed for him he mentally compiled a list of tasks for the day ahead. He would have to contact Rose to tell her he may not now be able to come over today or if he did, it might be very late. He felt a slight unease about calling her, would she be mad after the text he sent her. He wondered if he should mention it or not and decided to play it by ear.
At 0600 Miles got a text from Bill to say that Francesca had secured an appointment at the clinic for 11am and she wanted to set off at 0800 to be sure of making it. Miles finished his workout, took the lift back to his apartment, stripped and showered.
He knew that Rose would be up by 7am and he called her at 0730 to give her time to make a coffee and see to Lloyd. She was slow to answer and when she did he could hear Lloyd crying in the background.
“Hi, can you talk? Is Lloyd ok?”
“He’s fine, he’s only just woken up and he’s starving. Just hold on will you, whilst I get his milk sorted.”
Miles heard various noises in the background that he was now able to decode as milk being warmed in the microwave and then shaken in the bottle. Eventually it went quiet except for the sound of Lloyd sucking on his bottle and issuing various sighs and gurgles. Once he’d finished his bottle Miles knew he would get some mashed up cereal, but the milk seemed to be doing the trick for the moment.
“OK, I can talk now.”
Miles was relieved that she sounded her usual self, he hadn’t been sure what to expect after sending that text the night before.
“Listen, I’m really sorry but I won’t be able to come over this morning. I hadn’t mentioned anything to you before but Max went AWOL recently and Bill has finally managed to track him down. I thought he was in the US but it turns out he’s in a rehab clinic somewhere in the south, in the New Forest.
Bill, Francesca and I are going to visit him this morning, I’m not sure how long we’ll be there and there may be certain business issues I will have to deal with once I’ve got a picture of how sick he is and whether he’s likely to return to work.”
Rose’s response was measured.
“OK, well thanks for letting me know, I’m sorry to hear about Max. If you want to come here this evening instead then Lloyd has his bath about 6.30 and is usually in bed for 7 or 7.30. You can do the honours if you’re up for it?”
Miles felt huge relief, he was worried that Rose might have seen this change of plan as further evidence of his lack of commitment to Lloyd.
“I’ll do my best to be there for 6.30, thanks. Give Lloyd a big hug from me will you?”
Rose agreed she would. Then there was an awkward silence.
“Listen, about the text I sent last night…”
She cut in quickly.
“We agreed that sometime soon you would tell me exactly what it was that made you leave Lloyd and me, right? Until I understand what made you behave the way you did Miles, I just can’t get my head around what forgiving you actually means. Does that make sense?”
“Sure. I’m sorry I tried to rush you.”
“I don’t know what you mean by saying you’re rushing me. Rushing me into what? I have no intention of being rushed into anything. You have some explaining to do and I’m ready and waiting to hear it.”
She sounded calm and business like and Miles consciously and deliberately mirrored her, he wouldn’t make the mistake again of revealing his feelings or at least not until he was more certain of his ground.
“I understand. I suggest we meet up this weekend now that I don’t need to get to the US to find Max. I think it should be just you and me present. Can you get a babysitter?”
“Nathalie will do it. I’d prefer Sunday; I have a couple of business appointments on Saturday. Shall we say 11am? “
“That’s ok with me. Let’s meet here.”
Rose seemed dubious. “Can’t we meet somewhere more, I don’t know, neutral?” Her last memory of Miles’s flat was of one of their final flaming rows when Miles had forced her to hand over her key to it. She wasn’t sure she was ready to visit the location of the drama of their final weeks as a couple.
Miles thought of the ‘photos he was going to show her.
“No, we need privacy and I can guarantee it here. There are some ‘photos I have to show you and they really must not get exposed in the public domain. ”
Rose felt a shiver of apprehension, she was sure she was not going to like those photos one bit. “Eleven on Sunday then at your place. I have to go now, Lloyd wants the rest of his breakfast. We’ll see you later.”
Miles said a curt goodbye.
The journey to Oaklands was straightforward and largely conversation free; Francesca was troubled and preoccupied and Bill buried his head in some legal papers he had brought with him in a briefcase, pausing to squeeze Francesca’s hand every now and again.
Miles did some work too, on his laptop, mainly planning for Max’s absence from the New York office. Max might have become a loose cannon but when he was on top form he was second only to Miles in terms of understanding the detail of how Setons operated. He and Miles had been spoon-fed the property business by their fathers from when they were infants.
Oaklands was deep in the New Forest, reached by narrow, winding roads, past thatched cottages and traditional English pubs with village greens. The car slowed regularly to safely pass donkeys, cattle and new forest ponies that grazed at the side of the road. Miles had never been to the New Forest before and was entranced by its beauty.
Oaklands was a tastefully restored 1920s mansion, set in acres of beautifully landscaped grounds, encircled by the forest. The tall trees which surrounded the perimeter and the immediate vicinity of the clinic itself were a valuable deterrent to prying eyes and the long lenses of the paparazzi.
Miles had done some reading up about Oaklands on the web and now knew that this place was uber exclusive. Modelled on boutique luxury rehabilitation centres in the USA, it specialised in the treatment of alcohol and drug addiction. There were only ever twenty patients here at any one time, each of them overseen by a team of up to ten specialist staff. Treatment was tailored to the individual. The fees were exorbitant.
Miles had been interested to learn from the blurb about Oaklands that it focused not on the addiction as a disease but on the underlying causes of addiction, which it listed as depression, anxiety and low self-esteem, often brought about by the addicts being overwhelmed by the success of a parent or both parents.
This had led him to reflect on Max and his relationship with his parents. He knew that their death when Max was just a teenager, had knocked him for six and no doubt would have impacted hard on his self-esteem. Miles, his mother and father had done their best to provide a normal and loving family life for Max but Miles knew that deep down Max had resented him.
They had always been deeply competitive but when Max was orphaned it was almost as if he felt that somehow Miles had scored points off him that he would never be able to make up. Miles wondered if this was the root cause of his addictions.
All three of them were met by the Head of the clinic, Dr. Mike Jones, a tall Englishman in his 40s with an impressive head of silver streaked hair and a smile that lit up the room. He was charming and welcoming and Miles thought he must be loved by his patients. Bill introduced himself as Francesca’s fiancé, as they had all thought it may not be wise to introduce him as Setons’ in house lawyer.
Dr. Jones told them that Max had given permission to allow only Francesca to see him today, not Bill or Miles. However, he said that Oaklands welcomed family involvement in the treatment, seeing it as part of the healing process and hoped that they would continue to visit and keep communications open with Max.
He also explained that in line with patient confidentiality he could not discuss any of Max’s health issues in detail with any of them; it would be up to Max if he wished to disclose his situation to Francesca.
He was able to confirm the date that Max had arrived there and also that Max was paying his bills; the clinic required a hefty up-front payment to cover six weeks of residency and treatment; if the patient left before that time then they would be refunded the difference.
Dr. Jones offered Bill and Miles a tour of the clinic and grounds whilst Francesca was visiting Max and both men accepted. Miles had never been in a place like this before and he had an innate curiosity about all businesses and how they operated.
They had almost completed their tour when Dr. Jones was bleeped and he told them that Francesca had now finished her visit to Max. He ushered them to a private sitting room where a very tearful Francesca was waiting for them and insisted that if they wanted to see him again before they left they only had to ask his PA to page him.
Francesca fell into Bill’s arms, her face blotchy from tears and her eyes red rimmed.
“Oh Bill, he looks terrible, he’s so thin I almost didn’t recognise him. He looks just like Mum used to”.
Miles caught Bill’s eye, signalled that he would be back in ten minutes and quietly closed the door behind him. He wandered moodily back into the grounds where he had just been with Dr. Jones.
There was a charming circular rose garden with several benches within it and Miles sat down, staring distractedly at the west wing of the house.
He brooded about the photos that Max had given him and what his motive was. For Miles, the betrayal was no less than if he had been his blood brother; he had loved him and trusted him. And Max had taken one hundred per cent advantage of that trust.
He had ripped Rose and Miles apart and if Miles hadn’t seen that picture of Lloyd he may not have known he was his son for many more months, years maybe, by which time Rose could have remarried or left the country.
Did Max hate him that much? Or was it his inner demons that made what was irrational appear rational and what was cruel and vindictive just a game that had to be won.
Deep in thought, he stared absent mindedly at the clinic until distracted by a movement in one of the windows. He realised that someone was looking out at him. It was Max. He stiffened instinctively but tried not to make any move to show that he recognised him so that he could take a good look at him. He quickly took in what he could see of his appearance.
Francesca was right, he was unusually thin and his skin seemed sallow; not a good sign Miles thought, probably an indication that his liver was suffering. He was not dressed but instead was wrapped in one of the clinic’s standard issue burgundy robes.
Miles continued to stare. It was all he could do not to get up, run into the clinic, find him, grasp the lapels of his robe and shake him until his bones rattled.
It was a petty victory but he could not leave his seat unless Max left first. Eventually a nurse approached Max and reluctantly, it seemed to Miles, they walked off together. He glanced at his watch, got up and walked back towards the sitting room, back to Bill and Francesca.
By the time he got there Francesca had calmed down a great deal and although red eyed, was no longer crying. She summarised to Miles, what Max had said.
“He’s in a bad way physically, I’ve never seen him like this before. He looks sort of sallow and yellow but he says that he is accepting the detox treatment and cooperating with the staff; he says he’s determined to beat his demons this time. By the way, all those other times he went AWOL? It was rehab too. But he seems to think this treatment will be different.”
“He asked after you and Helen, wanted to particularly hear about Helen and asked me to tell her where he is. He would like her to visit.”
“Miles, he is very agitated about you and I couldn’t really work out why; he said you were really mad with him and that he didn’t think he would ever see you again. He kept babbling about some photographs?”
Bill and Miles glanced at each other but neither spoke.
“I’m afraid too, that he was still talking about you and I getting back together. I told him about Bill because I didn’t want him to hear that Bill was my fiancé from the staff here.”
“What did he say?” Miles asked.
“He went quiet for a bit.” Francesca teared up again, “then he hugged me and kissed me and said he hoped we’d be happy; said I deserved the best and he was sorry to be”….she hiccouphed…..”such a let down of a brother to me. He promised that he would take us out for a meal as soon as he was out of here and he joked about not ordering champagne, just orange juice and sparkling water.”
Francesca wiped her eyes again.
“He talked loads about Mum and Dad and what it had been like when they were alive and how their death had affected him. I think it’s part of the therapy to talk about things that might have led to his addictions.”
Bill broke in. “Tell Miles about his debts and how scared he is.”
Francesca paused. “He said that he is in debt. He avoided most of my questions about it so I tried to make light of it and joked that he had been in debt before and always managed to get out of it. He said he has never been in debt to this extent before.
He said, and these were his exact words, “ if I'm found, I'll be lucky to escape in one piece.” Then he kept repeating that he felt safe at the clinic, that he didn’t think anyone would be able to get at him here. Do you think he’s just being paranoid?”
“Probably,” Miles lied. His first thoughts were that if Max was in really serious debt to one of the leading gambling syndicates in Vegas and hadn’t paid up then he probably was in deep trouble. He didn’t want to say this to Francesca, she was worried enough about him as it was. He did wonder though, how Max had the money to pay for a place like this.
He would have to have a chat with Bill in private, put out some feelers and find out exactly what Max owed and to whom. Being in the property business Miles knew something of the underbelly of business life that included gambling.
Setons had to always be watchful of property deals being conducted as part of money laundering. There were certain people and organisations that he had known to always give a wide berth to, he wondered which of them Max had got tangled up with.
He knew that if Max was in deep enough trouble, that trouble could end up landing on the doorstep of Seton Enterprises and even of Miles himself. Best to nip it in the bud best he could. Subconsciously he knew that that probably meant he would have to take responsibility for helping Max resolve his debts. In the meantime he would ask Dr. Jones what the security arrangements were and see if there was any way of beefing it up for Max without alarming the clinic unnecessarily.
When they arrived back in London Francesca opted to be dropped off at Helens. She had phoned and updated her on the trip back. Miles and Bill headed for the office. He could put in a couple of hours work before going around to Rose’s place and would have a chance to talk through Max’s situation with Bill, in privacy.
Bill told him that he had already put feelers out to find out exactly how much debt Max was in and to whom. He told Miles that he was finding out the state of Max’s financial affairs but told Miles not to ask him how he was getting the information. Miles obliged.
Damian Chance had got back to Miles and confirmed that although Max had gone through the company accounts they were all in order and he hadn’t made any unusual or unethical demands, which was a relief. It seemed though that he had wanted to know exactly how much the company was worth and what were its current property assets.
At 6pm, Miles headed over to Rose’s flat. It was a relatively mild evening and he walked it, he needed the exercise after sitting in a car for almost five hours. He felt a sudden surge of happiness at the thought of seeing Lloyd and Rose and of being able to give Lloyd his bath.
He buzzed Rose’s intercom and took the lift up.
Rose opened the door to him in trepidation.
His text of the night before had thrown her into turmoil. She had written and deleted so many replies she had lost count. In the end she had called Delma who had firmly told her to put her ‘phone away and do nothing until the morning when it would all make more sense.
“Sleep on it,” she urged. “Please Rose,” she pleaded with her friend, “Don’t let him back into your life too easily. He walked all over you and still hasn’t given you any kind of decent reason why. If he wants you back then make him work for it – you’re worth it.!”
Rose knew she was right and indeed she had put her mobile into the drawer next to her bed and tried not to think about Miles and his plea to be forgiven, even though her own heart ached at his admission of his love for her.
She slept fitfully and woke up at 6am, just twenty minutes before Lloyd. When her ‘phone rang at 7 and she saw it was Miles, her heart flipped again. She had been amazed at her own calm voice and was relieved that he also seemed rational and distant. “He regrets the text,” she thought to herself.
Meanwhile, Miles would be here again, in her flat and it would just be the two of them and Lloyd. Nathalie had been invited to a rather posh party by a friend, on a promise of Daniel Craig making a brief appearance.
And now here Miles was. All six feet four inches of him, standing in her doorway looking every bit as dangerous, delicious and inscrutable as 007. He was wearing a single breasted tailored navy suit that fitted him like a glove and stretched endlessly across those taut, broad shoulders of his. His deep blue sapphire eyes gave nothing away, just stared at Rose and sucked her into their depths.
His dark blonde hair, cut short and streaked with natural highlights from the Californian sun, was slightly windswept. He must have walked, Rose thought and she felt an irresistable urge to reach up and run her fingers through his hair, smoothing it back from his forehead and then slowly pulling his mouth towards hers.
Oh Lord!
Instead, she smiled coolly, waved him in with her hand and flattened herself against the wall as he passed, remembering how tactile he had been the day before and not trusting herself if he should try similar tactics today.
“Lloyd’s in his playpen in the living room,” she directed him. “If you want to play with him for a few minutes, I’ll prepare his bath and give you a shout when its ready.”
She looked at his clothes, critically. “I’m afraid you are going to get quite wet,” she warned. “Lloyd likes to splash. “
“No problem,” he said and started to remove his jacket and tie.
Rose stayed with him until she could see that Lloyd was comfortable with his Dad and then she went into the bathroom next to the nursery, turned on the taps, cold first and filled it a few inches full. She made sure there were some bubbles, which Lloyd loved and then put in some of his favourite bath toys. She thoughtfully placed a comfy towel mat for Miles to kneel on.
When she went back in the living room, Miles and Lloyd were engrossed in pushing plastic shapes into a shape sorter.
“His bath’s ready,” she said softly, almost reluctant to break them up.
Lloyd never needed much persuasion at bath time and happily allowed himself to be carried there. Rose directed Miles to the changing mat and nappy bin and both of them smiled and gurgled at Lloyd as he kicked his legs and pointed at the bath where he knew there were bubbles waiting for him.
Rose showed Miles how best to hold him and gently sloshed water over him. Lloyd shrieked with enjoyment. She left them to it and went to collect some warm towels from the laundry. Lloyd particularly liked the bright yellow towel that had a hood in the shape of a duck’s head. When she returned to the bath, there was still much splashing and giggling going on and Miles was chatting away to his son.
He had stripped off his jacket and tie, removed his shoes and rolled his sleeves up past his elbow. As he stretched over the bath, his shirt went taut over his back, and showed that he was in as good a shape as he had been when Rose was going out with him. His routine was to work out every day, or work out and jog every other and she could tell there was not an inch of fat on his frame. He was as fit as any of the male models she had ever worked with.
Rose imagined what it would feel like to kneel behind him, encircle him with her arms and rest her head on his back.
He clearly sensed her there.
“Let me know when you think its time for him to come out.”
“Probably now,” she concurred and she laid out his duck towel on the changing mat ready.
Miles gently lay him on it and towelled him dry carefully. Rose handed him a nappy and although he raised an eyebrow, he got on with it with a bit of direction from Rose who couldn’t help but smile when Miles turned it round and round in his hands like a Rubik’s cube, not certain of where to start first.
“Has he eaten?” Miles asked.
“Yes, he had a big bowl of mashed carrot just before you arrived. But he usually has a bottle before bed; it helps him have a good long sleep. Do you want to give it to him?”
“Please,” nodded Miles and Rose went off to sort it, instructing Miles to take Lloyd into the nursery so that he understood it was bed time.
Once she’d fetched the milk Rose left the two of them snuggled up into a rocking chair. Lloyd’s eyes were already starting to close and she decided to leave them to it.
She crept off to her study and switched on her laptop. She had to sort out her appointments for Friday and Saturday and answer some queries from Maggie. It took her about half an hour and once she’d done all that she was about to switch off and go and see how Miles was getting on when she spotted an email that had dropped into her inbox in the last few minutes.
What caught her eye about it was the address. That was an address she hadn’t seen for a long, long time. It belonged to her ex, Serge. Intrigued, she opened it. It was brisk and business like.
After asking after her health he said he had a business opportunity which he would like to discuss with her and would she be free to meet for lunch or dinner this week or next, he mentioned some days and times and asked her to confirm with his PA, whom he’d cc’d in.
Interesting, Rose thought. A business opportunity offered by Serge was not to be turned down rashly; she had always believed in keeping business and personal relationships apart and therefore knew that she must at least give Serge’s offer some consideration.
Personally he had given her heartache and reason to be wary of him but that was over now; from a business perspective he was razor sharp and had clout. His wealth made the Setons look like small fry.
She checked her diary and responded to his PA, suggesting tomorrow evening. She hoped he would choose somewhere discreet to meet.
When Rose approached the nursery she couldn’t hear a sound and could tell that the only light on was Lloyd’s dimmed nightlight. She crept in. Lloyd was fast asleep in his cot, dummy in and clutching his fleece blanket. His blonde hair fell into the same shape as his Dads. Both of them had a cows lick in exactly the same place which caused a wave in their hair just above their left eye.
Miles also was asleep. He was lying on the single bed that Rose kept in the nursery for the odd nights when Lloyd had had trouble getting to sleep and she or Nathalie had slept close to him to keep him settled.
She held her breath. Miles was stretched out the full length of the bed and lay partially on his back and partially on his right side, with the pillow scrunched up under his head. His sleeves were still rolled up and one of the buttons on his shirt had come undone so that Rose could see a tantalising glimpse of his golden skin and fair hairs beneath.
Oh man, she could just lie down right now next to him and run her hand underneath his shirt, feel his warm skin and lay her head against his beating heart. She felt an ache start up inside her and mentally dared herself to do it.
She imagined kissing him awake, stroking his cheek and moistening his lips with her tongue. She was making herself damp with desire and sucked in a few deep breaths. She reminded herself of her conversation with Delma last night.
So, instead, she perched on the edge of the bed and called Mile’s name gently; he didn’t respond.
“Miles?” she called a bit louder. He stirred slightly.
She reached over and gently shook his shoulder.
“Miles? Wake up.”
That seemed to do it. His eyes suddenly snapped open. He looked immediately at the cot.
“Is Lloyd alright?” he asked.
“He’s fine,” Rose reassured him. “But you were fast asleep, I thought I’d better wake you up.”
Miles half sat up, propped his head on his elbow and rested his eyes on Rose. She looked delectable. Those huge green eyes with sooty lashes were staring straight back at him but he hadn’t a clue what she was thinking.
It was warm in the flat and she had on just a camisole and tight jeans that emphasised all her curves and with her blonde hair tied up her magnificent cheekbones and wide generous mouth were on full display. In the soft, dim light of the nursery she looked ravishing and that was exactly what Miles wanted to do, ravish her. Carry her off to her bedroom, remove those clothes and kiss her slowly over every inch of her body….
“Get a grip Seton,” his inner voice rapped out. “She’s told you in no uncertain terms she needs time.”
Miles sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He unrolled his sleeves.
“Thanks”, he said softly so as not to wake Lloyd.
“I must leave. Just need to collect my jacket, shoes and cufflinks. What time did we agree tomorrow?”
“We said afternoon, but you can come for bath time again if you prefer, just let me know.”
Miles texted for a car and then went to collect his clothes.
Rose waited for him by the front door.
“Thanks again, for agreeing to this time with Lloyd. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”
Rose gave a small smile, “Good night Miles.”
She closed the door after him and slid all the bolts and chains to make sure that she didn’t feel tempted to yank it open and run after him down the corridor. A few minutes later she heard the lift doors open and close and he was gone.