“You have to go,” I whispered when he seemed to be making no move to set me on my feet.

“Yeah.” He growled in frustration and traced his nose up the side of mine as his grip on me loosened, and I knew the moment was over. “Get a passport, okay? Let’s not do this every other week when I have to go away,” he muttered, holding me steady as I got to my feet.

“Margo’s getting me one,” I replied, smiling, silently wishing we actually did go through this every other week because making out with him like that was hot as sin.

“Good.” He stooped and picked up his flight bag, turning and walking to the door. As he pulled it open, I waved to Bradley, Carson’s friend who was taking him to the airport. I knew him from the club; he often came with Carson.

Carson turned and frowned, looking down at me with sad eyes. “I guess I’ll see you Monday morning when you wake up.”

I nodded, chewing on my lip. It seemed like an extremely long way away. “Have a safe trip.”

He sighed deeply and stepped closer to me again, bending and capturing my lips in another kiss – this one soft, gentle and somewhat chaste compared to the one from moments before.

As I watched him drag his small suitcase and store it in the back of Bradley’s car, my heart sank. Watching him walk out of my life for days on end was something I should be used to by now, but I wasn’t.

It’s just four days. Ninety-six hours. I can survive that, can’t I?

IT WAS SURPRISING how quickly you got used to someone being there. The house felt empty, cold, and a little lifeless. Of course, Sasha was still being her usual self, causing a ruckus wherever she went, but something was missing – and I knew exactly what it was. Carson Matthews. I always felt bad when I didn’t see him on race weekends, but this was something more. I’d been used to seeing him around the house, sitting on the sofa, talking in that voice which made my insides tremble – or just in the kitchen, with his fine arse bent over as he looked into the fridge for something to snack on. It was the little things you got used to so quickly.

Sasha had been inconsolable. It seemed like once an hour she asked where Daddy was – Daddy dinner, Daddy play, Daddy bath, Daddy cuddle. It was cute, but heartrending at the same time. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who was going to be counting down the hours until I next saw him from now on.

Luckily, on Friday I had something to keep my mind off him. As promised, he’d texted me a list of day nurseries that came highly recommended by people he knew. I busied myself calling around them and explaining the situation about who we were and asked if they had places available for Sasha. Two of them actually sounded nice, so I’d arranged appointments to go and visit the following week with Sasha so we could see if she fitted in to one of them. The phone calls wasted a significant proportion of my day.

By Saturday, though, I was just wallowing around. Lucie had come over to visit after lunch, bringing her kids around for a play date, which kept Sasha happy for the whole afternoon and well into dinnertime. Of course, a little gossip with my best friend perked me up to no end.

However, by the time she left and I’d bathed Sasha and got her settled into bed, I was back to not knowing what to do with myself in the large house. Rory was out with friends, so I just rattled around the place on my own. I actually missed my poky little flat which didn’t echo when you walked or talked.

Not used to having my Saturday nights to myself because I would usually be working at the club, I didn’t actually know how to keep myself entertained. Saturday night TV was an extreme let-down, so after an hour of channel-surfing, my boredom got the better of me and I ended up in bed by half past nine.

Sunday passed much the same, although I busied myself by cooking up a storm in Carson’s luxurious kitchen, making a traditional roast dinner, followed by a homemade raspberry pavlova. That killed a few hours, and Sasha kept me busy for the rest of the day.

By the time she was in bed, though, I was counting down the hours until I would see his smile again. We’d exchanged a few texts over the weekend, but I hadn’t had any real contact with him since Thursday morning. It was almost as if I was still working at the club and wouldn’t have contact with him from one week to the next. I didn’t realise how quickly I’d come to rely on seeing him every day.

Once Sasha was tucked in bed and Rory was off watching TV in his room, I decided a long soak in my incredible en-suite was in order. The large, claw-footed bath was practically calling my name.

Just as the tub finished filling and I had removed my last piece of clothing, my phone rang. I pulled it out of my trouser pocket, answering it without looking at the screen, thinking it would be Lucie because not very many people actually had my new number. When Carson’s deep voice greeted me, I all but squealed and almost dropped my phone into the tub.

“Hey, are you busy?” he asked.

“Nope, not at all.” I dipped my hand into the water, swirling it around to create a few more bubbles before I stepped in and sighed inwardly as the warm water caressed my skin.

“Ah, okay, good. I was just, er, well, I just wanted to check how you were and if everything was all right. Obviously it is, because you haven’t called me to tell me otherwise, but, you know, just wanted to call and check.” He seemed nervous as he spoke, and I instantly wondered why.

“Everything’s fine. Is everything okay with you?” I asked curiously, sinking down into the warm, lavender-scented, bubbly water.