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The Tied Man (The Tied Man #1) Page 118
Author: Tabitha McGowan

‘Something like.’

‘I thought Ellis was strict with all that macrobiotic nonsense, but you seem to be taking it to a whole new level.’  He gestured at his cleared plate with his fork.  ‘I don’t know how you can resist this stuff.  Some chef you have, Lady... Sorry, Blaine.’

Ellis patted his flat stomach.  ‘That’s LA for you.  A fat actor’s an unemployed actor.’

Their lovers’ banter became a hiss of white noise.  As long as I smiled or nodded in the right place every few minutes it satisfied them that I was part of the conversation, and it left me free to contemplate the rest of my life without Lilith.

Lilith

I hadn’t realised how much I had missed warmth.  My entire body craved it, as though that part of me that was Algerian could only be recharged by the sun.  I lay prone, letting my bones and skin absorb the delicious heat, and shut my eyes.

My eyes snapped open.  I couldn’t let myself switch off like this.  Not yet.  I even slept fully clothed, with a chair pushed against my door and the largest carving knife I could find under my pillow.  I clambered awkwardly from the bath, still unable to take any weight on my broken fingers, already starting to shiver as the frigid autumnal air crept under the bathroom door and clung on to me like a wraith.  Even if I banked the fire in my bedroom until it roared, the cold had taken up permanent residence at Albermarle Hall.

My track pants and sweater were folded neatly in the corner; I wouldn’t risk stepping out of the bathroom until I was fully dressed and ready for any eventuality.  I hadn’t seen Coyle since our encounter in the kitchen nine days previously and I was more than happy to maintain the distance between us.

I hadn’t had any real contact with anyone since that morning.  Blaine still felt that I was still unworthy of her presence, and Henry simply placed a beautifully arranged tray of food outside my bedroom or the studio and ran before he had to make eye contact with me, leaving only self-loathing in his wake.

And Finn...  Picking at the remains of the stitches in my forehead caused less discomfort than thinking of him.  Everywhere I looked, I saw him.  Even in his absence he filled every corner of my shrunken world: when I ran I saw him in the gardens; he sat hunched and surly at the kitchen table if I called there to make myself a coffee; he curled into the chair in my studio as I began to add the last details of Blaine’s portrait.

And when I lay in bed I could still feel his arms holding me close.

No matter how much I reminded myself that my obeying the rules was the only thing that kept him alive, it didn’t alter the fact that it had been nine long days since I had last seen Finn, and I missed him like a lost limb.

Finn

I attempted to set my coffee cup down in one of the two saucers that I could see in front of me, and managed to clip the real one so that the porcelain cracked and the spoon clattered to the floor.  ‘Shit.  Sorry,’ I mumbled.

They all must have known I was absolutely loaded, but whatever the hell was going on, my ability to appear human didn’t seem to be essential to my clients’ needs.  Chester continued to beam at me like he’d just picked me up at his high school prize giving, and Ellis hadn’t taken his eyes off me all night; the naked greed in his expression told me loud and clear that he wasn’t going to settle for a straight fuck and a kiss goodnight.

It started with a simple ‘Um,’ from Chester as he helped himself to a brandy.  Ellis placed his mineral water down in the centre of his place setting, and it was obvious that the pair of them were building up to some big proclamation or other.

‘The detail we were discussing – I take it that it’s still okay?’  Chester asked.

‘Of course,’ Blaine graciously concurred.  I reckoned she was passing herself off as first cousin to the Queen for this one.  Yanks went for that kind of shit.

The big man didn’t seem entirely convinced.  ‘Only it’s not the kind of thing most guys’d go along with...’

Blaine took his hand  across the table.  ‘Yes, but we’re hardly ‘most guys’ here, are we, Chester?’

‘Well, no time like the present, huh?’ Chester pushed his chair back. ‘Ellis?  You want to get the gear?’

This was the cue his partner had been waiting for.  He positively sprang to his feet to collect a black jacket from the high-backed chair by the fire.  He took something from the breast pocket and returned to the table.

‘This will only take a moment, Finn.’ Chester gave me a kindly, almost avuncular smile.

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