Highly Unsuitable: Mr and Mischief / The Darkest of Secrets / The Undoing of de Luca. Kate Hewitt

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       CHAPTER EIGHT

      EMILY watched Jason from the other side of his living room, a glass of wine clutched in her hand. He looked breathtaking in a tuxedo, the elegant cut of his clothing emphasising his powerful frame, the breadth of his shoulders and the trimness of his hips. She hadn’t really noticed either of those attributes before. She took a large gulp of wine.

      Yet she had seen him in a tuxedo before. He’d worn one at Isobel’s wedding. Perhaps that was why she’d asked him to kiss her. A man in a tuxedo was hard to resist. Jason was proving hard to resist.

      Now that she’d acknowledged just how attracted she was to him, it seemed to be all she could think about. It certainly was all she could feel. And she wondered what could happen—tonight, even—if she let it.

      She glanced over to where he stood, leaning against one of the living room’s soaring white pillars. Her gaze remained fixed on the column of his throat and she imagined him undoing that little black bow tie, just like he’d undone his shirt buttons, revealing the warm skin underneath. She had a thing about his neck, apparently. And a few other parts of his body.

      And Jason seemed to be thinking the same way about her. The thought caused an icy thrill to race down her spine right out to her fingers and toes. Icy and yet warm at the same time. Hot.

      Perhaps she was coming down with a cold.

      No, her fever was of an entirely different sort. And if Jason desired her—if he suggested something, how was she going to respond? It all seemed too incredible, too impossible. Any moment he would turn to her with a little smile, a shake of his head, and cluck his tongue.

       Oh, Em … you didn’t actually think …

      She could, quite possibly, make a complete and utter ass of herself. She had to be careful. But then she’d always been rather careful in matters of the heart. Her heart, anyway. She’d been impulsive enough with Helen’s.

      Although Jason hadn’t indicated any interest in her heart, of course. Love was out of the question, and he’d told her he didn’t see her as a suitable candidate for marriage. Not that she was interested. No, this attraction between them was purely physical.

      Her gaze returned yet again to Jason; he wasn’t even looking at her. He hadn’t looked at her all evening, and the realisation made her just a little bit annoyed. She was quite sure he was ignoring her—teasing her—on purpose. Sighing, she glanced around the room, checking that everyone was enjoying themselves—although not too much—and her heart sank a little bit when she saw Helen standing by the window, looking lost and forlorn. Emily realised with a little pang of guilt that she’d been so caught up in her lustful thoughts of Jason that she’d completely forgotten about Helen.

      ‘Everything all right?’ Stephanie came to stand beside her, her arm around her husband’s waist. As former Head of HR, Stephanie was still on the guest list for the exclusive event. She and Tim had returned from their honeymoon only a week ago, and both still had that rapturous glow that made Emily feel both happy and sad—and a bit envious—at the same time. She’d never felt like that, not even close, and although there was nothing precisely missing from her life, standing next to her friend so radiant with joy, made her feel just a little … less than. Like something—or someone—was missing, and she didn’t know what—or who—it was.

      Was it Jason?

      The question popped so suddenly and slyly into her head that Emily’s mind blanked. How could she have even thought such a thing? What did that even mean? ‘Sorry.’ She turned to Stephanie, blinking as if she could clear the thought from her still-spinning mind. ‘What did you say?’

      Stephanie laughed. ‘I just asked how things were. You look a million miles away, Emily!’

      ‘Yes,’ Emily admitted. She glanced again at Helen, who still stood alone. Stephanie naturally followed her gaze.

      ‘She looks rather lost, doesn’t she?’ she murmured.

      ‘Yes.’ Emily shifted uncomfortably. Perhaps inviting Helen to an event like this had been a mistake. Her friendship with Helen had seemed somewhat strained since Philip’s about-face; she didn’t know if it was out of her own sense of guilt or Helen’s hurt. Probably both. ‘I should go and talk to her,’ she said, and excusing herself, started towards Helen, only to be waylaid by Gillian.

      ‘We’ve run out of wine glasses,’ she hissed. ‘Stupid caterers didn’t bring enough. I can’t ask Jason—’

      ‘I’ll sort it out,’ Emily soothed. Gillian had been on edge ever since she’d arrived, and Emily assumed it had to do with her daughter’s visit. ‘I’m sure we can borrow some.’ She glanced again at Helen, who was looking more miserable by the minute.

      ‘People are waiting for their wine.’ Gillian bit her lip and Emily realised just how distressed she was. Gillian swiped angrily at her eyes. ‘I’m sorry, I’m a mess. My daughter—’

      ‘It’s okay,’ Emily said, squeezing her shoulder. ‘I’ll deal with it.’

      It didn’t take more than a few minutes to organise the glasses, and the crowd by the bar gratefully dispersed with drinks in hand. Emily turned to see to Helen and froze in horror. Stephanie had taken the matter into her own hands and was attempting to introduce Helen to the people standing near her. And one of them was Philip Ellsworth.

      By the way a sleek blonde was clinging to him, Emily guessed he’d come as her date. She started towards them, wanting to intercede, yet she knew she wasn’t in time. She could already hear Stephanie’s cheerful voice.

      ‘This is Sylvie, who volunteered for a well-building project last year, didn’t you, Sylvie?’

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