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Authors: Abigail Anderson

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BOOK: Battle Lines.
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She jolted then, realising that she was inside the house again and trapped. Then Jake stepped away from her.

“I’ll get my keys.” He told her softly and he strode off to get his keys, leaving her in the hallway to stare after him dumbfounded.

 

Chapter 15.

A moment later he was back. “Ready?” he asked her and she nodded.

He ushered her outside, shut the front door before steering her toward the car where he opened the passenger door and eased her into the seat.

She watched him walk around the bonnet of the car and then he was easing himself into the driver’s seat.

The ride back to her place was done in complete silence. Amanda sat looking down at her hands. Her nerves stretched taut as the tension in the car built around them.

Finally, with relief, they pulled up outside Amanda’s home. She threw the seat belt from her. Opened the door and ran down the path to get to her front door.

With shaky hands she fumbled with the lock until it finally gave and she stumbled through the door and then turned to close it behind her.

But Jake was already there. Stepping over the threshold. A look in his eyes. A look she now recognised. It was a raw hunger. He closed her door behind her. His hands going to her waist as he picked her up off the floor.

Before she knew what was happening she felt the wall at her back. Her legs were around his waist tightly. Her arms around his shoulders. She heard the zipper on his trousers and then before she had a chance to do or say anything he entered her swiftly. She cried out as he thrust deeply into her.

Amanda plunged her fingers into his hair. Grabbing at it and pulling his head back and she heard him wince. Strangely it excited her and she kissed him. Her tongue diving into his mouth. His thrusting became quicker, stronger, and harder.

She moved her hips. He groaned against the column of her throat. She knew she was driving him crazy, she did it again, revelling in the power she had.

“Jake.” She cried out as her body tensed. His own body becoming tense and then they were both shuddering against each other. Breathing hard.

“Damn.” She heard him exclaim breathlessly. “Sorry, I tried. I really did.” He told her. “You are too damn sexy for your own good.” He said.

They both jumped as the phone peeled loudly. “Leave it.” He ordered her.

“I should get it.” She said reluctantly. Slowly she uncrossed her legs from around him and he lowered her to the ground. She felt him slip from inside her and she almost cried in frustration. Missing the contact immediately.

On shaky legs she moved to the phone straightening her skirt as she went. She heard the rustle of material from Jake and knew that he was straightening his attire.

“H… hello.” She said into the receiver.

“Hey boss. Don’t you ever turn your mobile on?” Harry asked her.

“Har… Alan.” She said, catching herself just in time. She heard Jake swear behind her.

“Jakey’s there I take it.”

“Yes” she said.

“I got good news and even better news for you.”

“You have?” she asked.

She felt Jake move and before she could say anything the front door opened and Jake was gone. She heard the car start up and drive away a moment later.

“Yep.”

“Can it wait till tomorrow?” she asked him. There was a pause before Harry said.

“Sure thing boss. I just thought…” Amanda put down the receiver before he even finished his sentence and then promptly she burst into tears, no longer being able to hold them back.

Harry arrived late into work the next morning. He popped his head round her door well past ten.

“What time do you call this?” she snapped at him as soon as he made an appearance. Harry looked up at the wall.

“I call it sixteen minutes past ten. What do you call it?” he asked her jovially. She really wasn’t in the mood for his sense of humour this morning. She had had a lousy night and she was tired and fatigued.

“I call it do you want to find yourself out of work o’clock?” she looked up from her desk.

“That’s a bit long winded for me.” He grimaced at her. “You’re fired o’clock has much more of a ring to it.”

Amanda fought down the urge to pick up a large heavy object and throw it at him. But only just.

Harry walked further into the room. And then he popped a piece of paper down on her desk. It was a bank statement, she noted. Her business account at that. Amanda stared at it uncomprehending until she saw the last two transactions on the statement.

She looked up sharply at Harry who was grinning and nodding his head like a two-year-old who had just had a fix of fizzy drink, chocolate and cake.

“Where did this money come from?” she asked him.

“I sold it.” He sung the words at her and even managed a little dance. A bad one, but a dance. She shook her head.

“Sold what?” Harry screwed up his face but then winced and had to stop. “You sold the statue.” She said almost not believing it.

“Yes.” He said. She looked back down at the statement.

“Who on earth would pay fifteen thousand over the price we paid for it?” she asked him.

“A nice man with a lot of cash.” Harry informed her.

“And very little brain obviously. It wasn’t worth what we paid for it.” She pointed out.

“It’s gone and not our problem and the nice man was willing to pay that price.” Harry told her.

“Fine.” She said on a sigh. But, she did not like how it felt, like she was a modern day robin hood. And that an employee of hers had suckered some poor chump into parting with a lot of cash.

She looked at the statement again. Really a lot of cash. “What is this other amount?” she asked. It was also another very substantial amount. She had never seen so many zeros in her life. Not on any of her bank statements anyway.

“Oh that’s the painting.” Harry told her offhand. She looked up at him.

“What painting. I didn’t buy a painting. You didn’t buy a painting… Did you?” she asked.

“No, the one in the stockroom. At the back. He spotted it and asked how much.” Harry shrugged.

Amanda tried to wrack her brain as to what painting he was referring to. The only painting down there was the painting she had had done from a photograph of her taken on her sixteenth birthday.

The photo had been taken by Jake. She had been lost in a daydream sitting at the window in the parlour, a small smile playing on her lips.

She smiled as she remembered it as though it were yesterday. When the flash had gone off she had jumped and turned to see Jake looking at her. An odd look on his face that she could not decipher. She had often caught him looking at her like that, in that last year before she had run away.

“Hey. Give me that camera.” She had shouted at him.

“Come get it.” He had baited her. She had huffed and left the room and run upstairs after him. She never did catch him.

Days later Jake had given her the photo and she had stuffed it in a drawer. When she had run away it was one of only a handful of things she had taken with her. The only other photograph she had taken was one from a photo album in her father’s study. A picture of her and Jake together, the one in her bottom drawer.

An artist in London had painted an oil painting using the photo a couple of years back and she had kept it in store ever since, never having anywhere to hang it.

“The one of me?” She squeaked.

“You’ve still got the original photo. You could get the painting done again.”

“Yes but…” she began. That hadn’t been Harry’s to sell. That was a personal painting. It belonged to her.

“It’s got you out of trouble and it’s no longer an expensive dust gatherer.” Harry told her.

“Fine.” She said. He was right and at least her business was now afloat so what was she complaining about.

She held up a cream envelope and waved it at Harry. “Guess what this is?” She asked him.

“Erm… congratulations. You have won the lottery.” She shook her head.

“No.”

“I have won the lottery.”

“No.” She raised her voice a little in irritation.

“A holiday in the Bahamas.”

“No.” she repeated

“A villa in the south of France.” He suggested.

“No.”

“A car.” Amanda picked up a journal on her desk and threw it had Harry. It thudded on his chest before landing back on her desk,

“Do those random acts of violence of yours ever make you feel better?” Harry asked her.

“Much better.” She told him.

“Shame… so you were telling me that that envelope has a wage bonus for me.” Harry said and she pulled a face and stuck the tip of her tongue out at him.

“It is an invite to dinner for the two of us at my mother’s next Wednesday.”

“Even better than a bonus.” Harry grumbled mockingly and then proceeded to rub his bruised cheek.

“We have to go.” She told him firmly.

“No, you have to go.” Harry corrected.

“We… we have to go.”

“I thought you were going to sort it all out.” Harry complained. Yes, she thought she was going to sort it all out too. All Jake’s fault again.

After yesterday Amanda had had to re-evaluate things.

“I will. I promise.”

“When.” Harry asked her.

“After this dinner.” She told him.

“Yes… but.”

“No buts.” She cut him off. “It will be fine.” She tried to placate him.

“That’s alright for you to say. You weren’t the one on the receiving end of a mean left hook.”  Harry moaned loudly.

No, she had not. But, Amanda had suffered a far worse fate than that, she decided. Harry may have a black eye but, she had lost her virginity and the ability to hide behind her hatred of Jake all in one fell swoop… or thrust, as the case may be.

“I am sure that Jake will be on his best behaviour this time.” She crossed her fingers behind her back.

“Can you guarantee it?” he asked, no, that she could not promise and she lifted an eyebrow in response.

“Harry please. Just this one last time.”

“Fine.” He huffed at her. “Lead me like a poor, helpless lamb to the slaughter.”

“I’ll accept on your behalf then shall I?” Ignoring his wailing. He nodded sadly and slumped his shoulders.

“Do my wages cover danger money by any chance?”

“No.”

“Any chance of a raise?” he asked hopefully.

“No chance at all.” She confirmed. “I’ll give you an extra week’s holiday with full pay.”

“You will.” He asked brightening.

“Just as long as you promise not to take it until after next Wednesday.”

“Fine.” Harry ungraciously accepted his fate and left her office as she picked up the phone and dialled her mother’s number.

“Hello.” That rich voice sent a shiver down her spine.  Didn’t he ever go to work? What it must be like to be able to work from home all the time.

“Ah… Jake… it’s um, me.” Was that squeaky voice hers?

“It can’t be me. I’ve been here all the time.” Jake told her. She could hear the laughter in his voice.

“Tell me, have you been practising that all day.” She heard him laugh and the butterflies fluttered around in her stomach.

“I’m glad you appreciate it.”

“You misunderstand. You really should get new material. That old stuff isn’t working for you.” She told him curtly.

“That is a shame. I am surprised you are calling me.” He told her now.

“I’m not calling you.” She told him flatly.

“That’s funny. I could have sworn I heard the telephone ring.”

“Yeah you know what. One day I might get so offended by your humour that you are gonna find that I might just ram that telephone receiver right up your –”

“Hey steady there. If you are gonna start talking dirty, the least you could do is buy me dinner first.” She heard him laugh richly.

“I wasn’t… that is I…?” She stopped before saying. “You are an arse.”

“And you are tempting and very sexy when you are flustered with embarrassment.” Then his tone changed, it dropped. Became softer. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

“This isn’t a social call.”

“Shame. I was hoping you were calling to whisper sweet nothings in my ear.” Amanda remained silent for several moments until Jake said. “Nothing to say.”

“You wanted sweet nothings.” She pointed out.

“You must have something you want to say to me.”

“Lots. But nothing that your delicate ears could handle.” She quipped.

“That does sound promising.”

“Jake.” Amanda closed her eyes and sighed.

“Mandy. We are going to need to talk.” He said quietly and Amanda’s heart began to beat unhappily.

“No, we really don’t.” She dismissed. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine.” She sighed deeply. “Jake… I wish.” She stopped again, torn between what to say and what not to say. “What I mean is… if only… it’s just…” she took a breath.

There was no way she could say what she wanted to say. If she did, then she would give herself away and Jake would know just how much he had got to her. He would have real power over her. More power than he had now and he had way too much of that as it was. “Alan and I are glad to accept the dinner invitation.” She said instead.

BOOK: Battle Lines.
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