The next day, there was no sign of him except for a note in the kitchenette, which read, 'I have gone to do sightseeing. Have a good day. See you later.'

Charlotte re-read it again before crushing it in her fist. Disappointed, she busied herself with making coffee and toast. It had been wishful thinking to check out London with Aiden. At the eleventh hour, he had bailed out on her.

Not used to travelling alone but also not the one to mope around, she stuffed her camera and the lenses into her tote bag and headed out. The flowers and greenery covered the walls of the building above the ornate pub. They were the perfect background  for the first shot of the day. She took a few snaps before navigating her way to the train station.

Her day passed fairly quickly at the sprawling, lush Hyde Park. It was her favourite place as it bestowed sanctuary to its visitors from the bustling city. The deeper she foraged into its belly, the more her camera whirled, capturing the moments at the Rotten Row, the swans at the lake, and finally, the Kensington Palace, whose iron-wrought gates glimmered under the sun.

After soaking the rays and enjoying the breeze, she made her way to Bond Street via Marble Arch, enjoying the landmarks in the upscale neighbourhood where the tourist crowd thinned considerably. What would Aiden think of her if he saw her now? Charlotte thought as she browsed through designer dresses.

A frown flitted across her face. There was no point in sparing him a thought as he had ditched her. It was his choice, and she wouldn't mourn it. True, she liked him, but she had never made any man the centre of her universe. For a former police officer, he had taken a coward's way out.

Had she gone too far with the towel incident yesterday? His eyes had popped out of his sockets. She had been angry at him for choosing a bed-and-breakfast rather than a hotel. Exhaustion from hauling her luggage from the airport to their place on Aiden's insistence to save money had gotten the best of her.

Well, not today. Today she would hail a ride home. Damn the fare. The tube would be torture from office hours onwards, with the tourists thrown into the mix. After the cab dropped her off at her destination, her stomach growled.

Charlotte glanced up and saw no light on the second floor to the left. Aiden wasn't home. She looked at her wristwatch. It was nine at night. It was still early for a vacation. If she had been with Meghna and Gigi, they would have been partying their heads off. A girl's night out would be a perfect remedy.

Alas, she was on her own. Charlotte pushed open the pub door. A twinkle of a bell welcomed her inside. The buzz and the warmth of the place sucked her in as she scanned for an empty table. One of the barmaids shouted, "What can I get you?"

"Um, how about the tandoori chicken?" The Asian food in the United Kingdom was to die for. The thought of Asia made her think of Meghna. She texted her friend, Guess who am I with in London right now? Hint. It's a sexy former officer.

Aiden was beyond sexy. He was hot. The thought made her smile. If she couldn't have him, it didn't mean she couldn't enjoy admiring him when he was not looking. During the flight, he had slept with furrowed brows as if still not believing he had flown first class. Whoever complained about an upgrade? Although, it was refreshing to have someone who didn't want to get extra mileage on her family name.

Her phone buzzed, and Meghna's message popped up on the screen. What?!?! You are such a badass. Going to Manali tomorrow. It's to die for. Will video call you from there to show the other India.

Charlotte smiled at her friend's reaction. She hoped the 'other India' didn't have inclement weather in store for Meghna. Stowing her phone away, she turned her attention to her food.

"How was your day, love?" Mrs. Jones ambled towards her.

"It was great. I went to Hyde Park." She licked the spicy sauce off her finger. "This is so good. Who made this?"

"My husband, Harvey." She beamed. "How are you two finding things? Everything to your liking."

"Yes. I slept like a baby." Charlotte's cheeks blistered at her reaction yesterday.

Mrs. Jones' smile widened. "Where is your boyfriend?"

"Who?" Charlotte looked confused before she realized what the woman was asking. "Oh, Aiden. He isn't my boyfriend. We are friends, travelling together." Bloody coward.

"I would say the way he was looking at you when the pair of you came for the keys, he is half in love with you." Mrs. Jones looked surprised.

Charlotte huffed.

"You don't fancy him?"

"It's complicated, Mrs. Jones." She shrugged and changed the subject. "Say, I noticed some rooms are vacant. You should be booked to the seams, given this is summer."

"Call me Kate, love. Harvey and I do my best, but too many posh houses are up for rental; not many want to rent above a pub." She looked crestfallen. "The pub does a good business, but extra quid will help for sure."

"It's all about the marketing and targeting the right people." Charlotte looked around. If she were to admit it, the place was not as catastrophic as she had thought last night. It just needed a bit of modern furnishings from the current era.

Charlotte chatted with the friendly owner for another few minutes. After finishing her sumptuous dinner, she trekked upstairs to her apartment to find light beneath the door. Aiden was home. She wouldn't be surprised if he was already tucked in bed just to hide from her.

As she stepped inside, she heard a guttural sound followed by a whimper. Nonplussed, she went to Aiden's room and stilled. He was home but had brought someone with him.

The couple paused when they sensed her presence. The curvy girl unglued her mouth from Aiden's and pouted, "Who is she?"

The smell of cheap beer and cigarettes assaulted Charlotte's senses.

Aiden squinted at her, not looking too happy that she had interrupted his full make-out session.  "Nobody," he muttered.

His words stung her. She stood rooted to the spot, not knowing what to do. The blood rushed to her face when Aiden returned to smooching the girl as if he was sucking the life out of her. She let out a moan of pleasure at his renewed attention.

Hands off him. He is mine. A voice screamed inside Charlotte.

Coming up for air, the girl cast a nasty look. "Is she going to join us or watch? Freak!"

Fury shot through Charlotte at being talked down by the brunette.

Aiden looked over the latter's shoulders and smirked. "I guess she will watch." There was a challenge in his dismissive tone.

A condescending giggle echoed in the room.

As a little girl, Charlotte had told her grandfather, Henry, that she was no fair-haired sleeping beauty. No, she was a tempest who could be impulsive to even the score. This was one of those times. She marched up to the engrossed duo.

Aiden was the first one to notice her. His eyes widened as he anticipated her intention. Rather than shoving the girl away, Charlotte did the only thing that made sense. She grabbed his face and brought it down to hers to give him a bruising kiss. Her daring spiked the heat in the room.

Annoyed, the other girl continued to play and nipped at his earlobe, vying for his attention.

If there were to be a sensual war, Charlotte intended not to lose. This was her vacation, and the victory shall be hers. No one was going to ruin it. Not even the British stranger with ample boobs.

Charlotte bit his lips. He opened his mouth on a grunt, allowing her to slip her tongue inside, devouring him. His hands were all over her, touching her breasts before sliding down to her hips and cupping them.

She kissed him hard. His loud groan sent white-hot pleasure swirling through her. It made her heart pound in her chest. She felt his hardness against her. He was aroused. She wanted nothing but Aiden giving her what she desired. Him inside her.

"Oi, you wanker. What about me?" Feminine indignation filled the room.

Aiden was far too gone to answer. Charlotte's hand slipped down and grabbed the most intimate part of him. A sigh escaped his lips. She deepened the kiss as they both got lost in their world, blocking the other girl out.

"You can have the tart." There were footsteps, a creak of the floorboard and a slam door slam.

As soon as it was the two of them, Charlotte pulled away with no warning. Heaving, she held his gaze.

"What?" He floundered, emerging from the sexual haze. 

"Guess what, babe? I have changed my mind." She tortured him with a sweet smile. Her eyes travelled to his erection that had throbbed in her palm. "And, oh, Aiden, Mr. Dick wants your attention. Have fun."

Skipping to her room, she closed the door, but not before stealing a glance at a stunned Aiden. This will teach him not to mess with her. She was no damsel in distress who waited to be kissed. No man trifled with her either. She was not the one to settle for anything less. He needed to know this.

"Fuck," Aiden swore. He wanted a release, and Charlotte had shunned him after getting rid of the waitress he had picked at a bar. Soon, he regained his composure as his frustration abated. He would be damned if he begged for sex.

Grabbing his pyjama bottoms from his bed, he went to take a cold shower to kill his erection and calm his raging blood. As he lay down several minutes later, he vowed to teach her a lesson until she capitulated.

She wanted him. She had wanted him since last year when they had first met at a bistro. It had been a fatal attraction. He grimaced at the thought; it had nearly killed him in the end.

The ghost of the past made his sleep more fretful. The sound of someone sobbing jolted him awake. His hand went to the phantom gun he no more carried since his firing. He blinked in the dark. Everything was quiet outside. It must be the late-night stragglers lingering outside the pub down below.

A quiet wail floated into his room. Charlotte! The thought sent cold sweats down his spine as he dashed to her bedroom. Without knocking, he entered and found her curled into a ball and crying softly.

"Charlotte?" Aiden called out to her.

She didn't reply, but her sobs intensified.

"Charlotte?" He didn't know what else to do except to get her attention.

"Go away," she cried. "I don't want you here."

He knew what bothered her. "Was it your nightmare again?"

Her lack of response was the affirmation he needed. Guided by the outside streetlight, he sat on the edge of the bed. "I am okay. There is nothing with me. I am alive."

"Please go."

"No. Let me help you."

"Why? I am a nobody, remember?" Finally, she unfurled and looked at him.

Aiden couldn't see her face but knew the tears streaked her cheeks. He put a hand on her shoulder. "I shouldn't have said it. I am sorry."

She pushed him hard. "You don't understand. I see you die every time. I can't make it stop, Aiden. I want my life back."

Grabbing her flailing hand, he dragged her onto his lap and held her. "Hush. It's okay. I am right here with you." He rubbed her back until she calmed down. When the last of her tremors subsided, he asked, "Better?"

"Yes," she whispered. "I am sorry for waking you up."

"It's okay. Let's get you settled in," he told her. "Everything is fine."

"Aiden," Charlotte said. There was a note of alarm in her tone.

"I am right here," he assured her.

"Stay."

He knew it was a bad idea, but it wasn't in him to leave Charlotte in her hour of need. Everything that happened the previous year had been his doing. And here they were in a foreign country, across the Atlantic Ocean, in the bed together. Although he would have preferred different circumstances. Was this what her sisters called fate? Should he surrender to its capriciousness with no thoughts of tomorrow?

Aiden sprawled next to her. They faced each other. He could see somewhat of her face as his eyes got used to the darkness. Grabbing the blanket, he threw it over both of them. He could feel her breath's cadence, heat, and the sighs that spilled from her.

"Tell me." It was not a request, nor a command either.

"My nightmare?" she asked in a small voice.

"Yes."

"You were there in the warehouse, Aiden," she mumbled.

"I was. And so were you. But, Charlotte, I lost consciousness after being shot. I don't remember much after it," he cajoled. As much as he wanted to know, he didn't want to push her too far. It shocked him when she spoke.

"When you shoved me away from him. I fell to the ground. There were shots fired. Yours and his. The bullets found their marks. He died instantly, but you were badly injured. My brother, Amelia and I... we tried to stop the blood." Her voice wavered as she apprised him about what he didn't remember. "Aiden, you were bleeding badly."

"I am right here," he said, digesting the news that she and James had tried to save him.

"The paramedics arrived soon, but it felt like years. Your partner was there too. When you were taken away in the ambulance, we went to the precinct to give the statement and then to the hospital. W-we thought you were going to die..." Her voice trailed off.

A heavy silence fell around them.

Did he owe his life to them? Did their quick action save his life? Did he even deserve their help? Flynn had told him the police had arrived in the nick of time. The doctors informed him afterwards that death had knocked on his doorstep; it had aggrieved his sisters.

"I was covered in your blood. It stained Flynn's jacket, which he had given me," she murmured.

He flinched in shock. "It was nice of him." Why hadn't Flynn told him any of this?

She became quiet. It was after a while before she asked. "What did you bring a random girl here?"

His heart jolted. "To forget my troubles," said Aiden.

"Next time, try a hot bath. It helps," she suggested, her voice strained.

He chuckled.

"Can you hold my hand?" This time she sounded uncertain.

"Sure." He reached out and tangled his fingers through hers. "I am going nowhere, Charlotte. I am right here beside you. Now, mind you, I snore a bit."

Charlotte laughed.

"Feel better?"

"Thank you." She snuggled against him and soon, her breathing evened.

Aiden remained by her side as his thoughts swirled into a whirl. James had finished his career, but he didn't feel the overwhelming hatred he had always felt whenever he thought of the business magnate. His career was done either way. He had fucked up when he had abused his privileges as a cop. 

His last thought before falling asleep was why Flynn hadn't told him any of this.

Would it have made any difference? 

Maybe.  

Author's note: Hi to everyone from England, Ireland, Wales and Scotland. 

The picture of Kensington Palace is taken by me.