I shake my head. My chest is hurting so much that for a moment I wonder whether the coronary I foretold earlier has actually come to pass. But it’s just my throat muscles clenching, locked in a spasm of grief that I fight to hold in.I don’t know whether she truly meant that, or if she said it to make both of us feel better. It must be the latter? Surely I’m not the only one here who’s fallen in love?I look into her eyes. They plead with me not to say it. And they shine with all the emotion she’s trying to hold in.Clearly, I’m not the only one.There is no obvious solution. The path ahead is blocked by brambles, and I can’t see my way clear. I can’t control this situation, any more than I could control what happened with Christian. For the first time in years, panic rises inside me at my impotence, a word no man ever wants to encounter.I take a deep, shaky breath, and blow it out slowly. Alice has feelings for me, and I need to take consolation from that, and hope that the way ahea

Come for me.” She begins to move on top of me again, and I close my eyes as pleasure spirals through me. “Come on, baby,” she murmurs, teasing my lips with hers as the rock of her hips drives me in and out of her. “Let me hear those wonderful deep groans. Let me feel your muscles tighten as you come inside me.”There’s no stopping it now—her body is slim and soft and warm in my hands, all sensual curves and dips, and she’s so warm and wet, and I don’t have to claw my way to a climax, I just have to lean back and relax against the sofa cushions and let it wash over me in wonderful waves. It feels amazing, my muscles tightening deep inside, and her mouth is on mine, drinking in my gasps of pleasure, my body jerking and pulsing what feels like a dozen times, before it finally calms.I open my eyes and look straight into hers“Hello,” she says, and kisses“Hey.” I sigh.“Missed you,” she says, and then she nestles against me, with me still inside her, and we sit like that for a long time,

Mum, I’m fine.” Irritably, I drop my arm, walk over to one of the armchairs, and drop into it. I know I’m being mulish, but it’s taking all my willpower just to stop myself walking out. I’m too miserable to make an effort.I’ve never been the sort of person to want to talk through my problems, and to be fair my family knows this and they all ignore me for the next hour or so, while Pamela, our housekeeper, brings in the food that Pierre, the chef, has made. I pass on all of it, sickened at the thought of swallowing anything except the whisky. Why have I never thought about the fact that we have our own chef? How decadent is that?About every five seconds, I check my phone to see if Alice has texted me, but the screen remains dark, and my Apple watch refuses to buzz against my wrist to announce an incoming call. Slowly knocking back the whiskies, and taking off my glasses, I grow more morose as the evening goes on, having to sit there and listen to everyone cooing over the babies and t