Maids Under The Mistletoe Collection. Christy McKellen

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СКАЧАТЬ much as they could about her in order to get their stories filed for this morning’s news. The public seemed to be captivated by the lives of the upper-class gentry and apparently theirs were no exception.

      Feeling sick, she leant back against the chair and covered her face with her hands, letting out a long low breath and concentrating hard on getting her raging heartbeat back under control.

      ‘Are you okay?’ Jack asked gently.

      ‘I’m fine,’ she said, dismissing his concern with the flip of her hand. She wasn’t going to fall apart in front of him now. She still had her pride.

      Getting up from the table, she smoothed her hands down her dress. ‘Well, I guess if I’m going to be living here for a while I’ll need to go to my flat to pick up some of my things,’ she managed to say, amazed at how calm she sounded when her heart was thumping so hard she thought it might explode in her chest.

      Jack looked surprised for a moment, then smiled and nodded. ‘Take the car. In fact, I’ll give you John’s number now, then you can call him whenever you need to go somewhere.’

      She frowned in surprise. ‘Won’t you need him?’

      ‘I have another driver I can use.’

      She must have still looked a little uncertain because he said, ‘It’s fine, Emma, and it’s only until the press get bored and leave us alone. It’ll be much less stressful for both of us.’

      ‘Well, okay. If it’s not going to cause any trouble.’

      ‘No trouble,’ he said, giving her a reassuring smile, which made something flip in her tummy.

      His phone rang then, and he turned away to answer it with a curt, ‘Westwood.’

      She could tell from the look on his face that it wasn’t someone he was keen to speak to.

      He confirmed this by mouthing, ‘It’s Perdita,’ and putting the phone on speaker so they could both hear the conversation.

      ‘I’m calling to set up a good time to come and do that “At home with the Earl and Countess of Redminster” piece for the magazine,’ came the journalist’s crooning tones down the line.

      Emma’s heart sank. She’d hoped the woman would leave them alone for a little while, at least until they’d had a bit more time to practise playing the happily married couple, but apparently it was not to be.

      ‘I was thinking a week on Friday,’ Perdita continued, not giving either of them the chance to even draw breath, let alone answer. ‘I’ll pop over at about nine in the morning, which should mean we have plenty of light to get everything shot. Now the nights are drawing in, we have to start our days that bit earlier. Okay?’ she finished finally, the uplift in her voice making the word sound more like a command than a question.

      ‘Yes, fine,’ Jack bit out. ‘We’ll see you then, Perdita.’

      ‘Lovely!’ Perdita breathed, then cut the call.

      Jack scowled at his phone, looking as though he’d quite like to fling it across the room.

      When he turned to look at her with a raised brow she matched his frustrated expression. ‘So she’s set on doing that interview, then,’ she said, keenly aware of the tension in her voice.

      ‘Sounds like it. We ought to do it though, just to keep my parents off our back.’

      ‘I agree.’

      He nodded. ‘Thank you for understanding, Em.’

      ‘No problem,’ she said, forcing herself to smile back, feeling a little panicky about what exactly they were going to say to Perdita that would satisfy her curiosity about their relationship. They didn’t even know what the state of it was themselves, for goodness’ sake.

      She got up from the table and went into the living room to peek out at the photographers still milling about outside.

      Jack had followed her in and he flopped onto one of the sagging armchairs near the fireplace, wincing as it gave a groan of protest.

      She walked over to where he sat and perched on the edge of the arm. ‘You know, Perdita might think it’s strange that we’re living in a house like this,’ she said, sweeping her hand around to encompass the nineteen seventies throwback décor. ‘She’ll never buy that a young couple plan to live here, and the readers certainly won’t.’

      He frowned. ‘Good point.’

      ‘Can you get it updated in time?’ she asked hesitantly.

      He ran a hand through his hair, messing up the neat waves and making her long to smooth it back down for him. ‘I don’t have time to arrange it right now. I’m snowed under at work.’

      ‘I can do it,’ she said before she could check herself. ‘If you like,’ she added less forcefully, pulling her arms tightly across her middle. ‘I can’t work at the moment anyway, so I may as well make myself useful.’

      He looked up at her with a smile of relief. ‘That would be great, if you wouldn’t mind. Spend whatever you think necessary—’

      She gave an involuntary grimace at that and he frowned as if realising what a tactless thing that was to say to her.

      ‘I’ll transfer some money to you to get started and if you need any more, just let me know.’

      ‘Okay. Should I give you my account details now?’ she asked, feeling incredibly awkward about discussing money with him, especially with the word gold-digger still floating around her mind.

      ‘Sure. Go ahead,’ he said, opening up an app on his phone and tapping in the numbers she gave him. ‘I’ll do a transfer as soon as I get to my desk. ‘I’ve got a meeting in Belgravia now so I’ll get out of your way.’

      Emma was frustrated that they were dancing so politely around each other like this, with neither of them making any mention of their moment under the mistletoe yesterday. But then what was there to say? Nothing had actually happened.

      They’d not talked at all on the journey back from Cambridge because Jack had been on the phone to his colleagues in America the whole time dealing with a crisis that had arisen, then he’d excused himself the moment they’d walked into the house, citing the need to do more work. She suspected he’d actually been avoiding having to talk about what was hanging in the air between them.

      She followed him into the hallway, where Jack grabbed his coat from the cloakroom.

      It can’t have meant as much to him as it had to her, she decided with a sting of sadness.

      It had probably just been a moment of camaraderie to him after a long and stressful day. But that was all. It hadn’t meant anything more than that.

      Disappointment was doing something funny to her insides, but she squashed the feeling quickly.

      ‘Have a good day. I’ll see you later,’ Jack said, sliding his arms into his overcoat and giving her a tight smile.

      She nodded solemnly, not wanting to give away how disconcerted СКАЧАТЬ