The Mighty Storm (Raura Revised)

Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Fortunately, the media interest in Ross and I quickly died down when Stuart put out a press release stating there was no story.

The release was firm on the point that Ross and I have a purely professional relationship.

Ross had Stuart put the statement out, and he only did that for me. If Ross had his way, the whole world would know about us.

For obvious reasons that can't happen.

But I'll be going home in a few days, after the show, and I'm going to tell Will then.

I think.

Well, that's what I've promised Ross I'll do. And I know I have to tell Will the truth, I just feel absolutely sick every single time the thought passes through my mind about telling him. So I'm trying not to think about it.

Instead I'm just immersing myself in Ross, as much and as often as I can.

We haven't spent a night apart since that night in Copenhagen, and honestly, I can't imagine spending a night apart from him ever again.

Every night though I have the same internal battle.

I go and call Will before bed as scheduled.

I feel sick with guilt after the call.

Ross is jealous and ansty with me when I return to him.

A part of me wants to leave Ross because of the guilt I feel over Will, the other part, the bigger part, wants to stay because of the way I feel about him.

We fight a little, sometimes a lot.

Then we spend the rest of the night making up.

Tonight, we're in my suite. The guys have all gone out.

Ross and I both made some lame excuse up for not going out so we could spend the night together.

We ordered room service, ate our fill, and are now snuggled up on the sofa. I'm nestled in-between Ross' legs, head on his chest, and we're watching Armageddon.

There wasn't much on the hotels movie listing, and I like Armageddon, it's a sweet film.

Ross has been stroking my hair for the last ten minutes and I'm starting to feel sleepy and content.

I must have fallen asleep on Ross, because the next thing I know, he is lifting me up off the sofa and into his arms, and the room is in darkness.

"What are you doing?" I mumble, sleepy.

"Putting you to bed."

"And where are you sleeping?"

"With you, of course."

I don't argue tonight. I'm too tired. And I wouldn't argue any way. There's no guilt, because I haven't called Will.

Crap.

Well, I'm not going to call him now. I'll just call him in the morning, tell him I fell asleep.

That's at least the truth.

And the fact is, I love sleeping with Ross.

I know it's wrong. Everything about this is wrong.

But it also feels so very right. And I don't have the energy to care about right and wrong now.

Ross lays me down in bed and pulls the duvet over me.

I hear him moving around the room, undressing and then the bed dips as he climbs in beside me.