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

Finally, by half past six, almost everything was set up. Emily glanced at the makeshift bar, the string quartet, the caterers, and let out a breathy sigh of relief. She hadn’t realised how much organisation a party like this actually took.

‘Everything looks wonderful,’ Helen said, and Emily gave her a grateful smile.

‘Gillian said we could use the guest suites to shower and change—shall we get cleaned up?’

Helen nodded and, after grabbing their bags they headed down the long corridor—stark white walls and ebony flooring—towards the bedroom wing. Gillian had told her the guest rooms were the first two doors and, after Helen had disappeared into the first room, an irrepressible curiosity made Emily tiptoe towards the third and last door. Jason’s bedroom.

Her heart began to thud as she gently pushed open the door and stepped into the room. Her feet sank into the plush white carpet and she gazed at the king-sized bed with its black satin sheets. Although the sheets were drawn across the wide bed with military precision, she pictured them pulled back and rumpled, with Jason lying there—naked.

Good heavens. Where had that thought come from? It had sprung into her mind so suddenly, so vividly, that her cheeks burned and she glanced around guiltily. Still, she could imagine it all too easily and yet not at all, because nothing about this bed or room or entire flat made her think of Jason. And of course she’d never seen him naked. And most likely never would—

‘I think you’ve wandered into the wrong bedroom.’ Oh! Emily whirled around, one hand to her thumping heart. Jason stood in the doorway, his shoulder propped against the frame, one hand already starting to loosen his tie. His eyes glinted with humour and his mouth quirked upwards. ‘Haven’t you?’ he added so Emily’s face burned all the more and she could feel herself going scarlet. Lovely. Just the look she was going for.

She arched an eyebrow, tossing her hair over her shoulder. ‘I was just checking to see if there’s any colour in this place,’ she said, striving to sound nonchalant. ‘I have this mad urge to spill a can of red paint on your carpet.’

‘That sounds interesting,’ Jason said. ‘Although my decorator would have a fit. I suppose I can start with this.’ Emily watched in a sort of horrified fascination as Jason tugged off his tie—red silk—and tossed it onto a nearby chair. It landed on the white suede like a splash of paint. Emily swallowed.

‘That’s a start,’ she managed with a light little laugh. ‘Although this place still is rather stark.’ She gave him a teasing smile, the kind of smile she’d always given him, except now it felt like flirting. And, even stranger still, it felt like Jason was flirting back, an answering smile quirking the corners of his mouth—those lips—as he held her gaze a second longer than necessary. A second full of heat. She hadn’t imagined what he’d said at Stephanie’s wedding. What he’d wanted.

Emily cleared her throat. ‘I apologise for being so curious,’ she said after a few seconds as Jason simply gazed at her, his eyes sweeping over her rather dishevelled state, lingering on … certain places. Making her feel hot and shivery all at once. ‘Anyway,’ she said, struggling for words, for air, ‘I just couldn’t imagine you living in a place like this.’

‘I don’t live here very much, to tell you the truth,’ Jason replied. He dropped his attaché case by the bed and then shrugged out of his suit jacket, dropping it onto the same chair as the tie.

Emily watched his muscles ripple under the crisp white cotton. She’d never quite realised how built Jason was. Did he work out? Or did he just lift things when he was doing all that engineering stuff? She swallowed again and tore her gaze away from him. She had to get a grip on this conversation—or at least herself. ‘Now that you’re back for a bit perhaps you should invest in a new decorator.’

Jason chuckled. His fingers went to the buttons of his shirt. Was he actually undressing? Was he going to take his shirt off? Emily found she couldn’t breathe. She was staring at his hands as they slid the first button out of its hole and she caught a glimpse of the strong brown column of his throat.

‘I suppose I’ll never think of this place as home,’ Jason said musingly. He seemed unaware that he was undressing in front of her, or that she was staring. ‘Weldon will always be that.’

Weldon, Jason’s family estate, sprawling and comfortable, one of Surrey’s finest homes, yet he hadn’t been there properly in years. ‘Do you think you’ll move back there one day?’ she asked.

He paused, his fingers stilling on the buttons of his shirt. Her mesmerised stare finally broken, Emily lifted her gaze to Jason’s face. He was watching her with that same little knowing smile. Not so unaware, then. He knew he was unnerving her; he was teasing her. Like always. Except … not.

‘Yes, eventually. I’ll need to take care of the estate.’ A slight frown had settled between his brows, even as he undid another button.

Emily swallowed. ‘Yes … to produce that heir of yours, I suppose. Find any suitable candidates yet?’ The words held a bit of an edge, but her gaze was still hopelessly drawn to Jason’s shirt and how he was slowly—so slowly—unbuttoning it.

‘Actually, no,’ he said. ‘Not yet.’

And not her. The thought really shouldn’t bother her, Emily told herself almost frantically. She surely did not want to be in the running for that rather tedious role. And whatever was—or could be—between her and Jason, it certainly wasn’t marriage. Or love.

Just basic, primal, overwhelming attraction.

Jason’s fingers moved lower. If he undid another button, Emily thought with a lurch of panic, she’d be able to see his chest. ‘But I’m not really looking at the moment,’ he added. His fingers hovered over the button and Emily realised she was staring. Again. And Jason knew it. Even though her whole body felt heavy and strange, as if it belonged to someone else, she managed a step towards the door.

‘Well, I suppose I should get dressed,’ she said, attempting a brisk tone. Her voice wobbled instead. ‘So I’ll leave you to it.’ She gestured towards his state of half-undress, her face reddening once more. She could feel the heat coming off her. And from Jason. It was all so new, so overwhelming, she felt as if her brain had been short-circuited All she could do was feel. Want.

‘Don’t rush off on my account,’ Jason replied, his words laced with lazy amusement. ‘You obviously wanted to be in my bedroom, Em …’

Emily froze. ‘I was just looking,’ she said stiffly.

‘And you still are,’ Jason replied softly. He’d undone that third button and once more Emily’s gaze was glued to his chest. She knew it, he knew it, and yet she still couldn’t move. That enticing glimpse of hard, sleek muscle and warm brown skin was making her remember how his chest had felt when she’d touched it—by accident—and how she would like to touch it again. Minus the shirt. What would his skin feel like? Warm, cool? Smooth, rough?

‘Really, Jason,’ she managed, finally tearing her gaze away from his chest. It took her a moment to focus on his face. ‘I had no idea you were such a tease.’

‘I’m not,’ he told her, his voice low, and he took a step towards her.

Involuntarily, Emily took a step back. ‘What are you doing?’ she whispered.

Jason gazed at her for a moment, the glint of amusement gone from his eyes. His mouth thinned as he gave a little shake of his head. ‘Terrifying you, apparently—’

‘No—’ Yet she could not deny the wild beat of her heart, the flush of her face. It wasn’t terrifying, but it was something close. She certainly felt. A lot. And it scared her, even as desire raced through her veins, made her dizzy with need.

She wanted this. She wanted Jason. And yet she was afraid, because at least part of her knew that Jason was different, that she would be different with him. Everything would be different, deeper. Dangerous.

‘Go get dressed, Em,’ Jason said, turning away from her. He sounded tired. ‘In another bedroom.’

Emily hesitated, wanting to say something witty and sophisticated. Something sexy. Yet she couldn’t; her brain had frozen. Why did she still have to act so gauche with him?

Because this is Jason and you still feel like you’re silly and giddy and seventeen years old.

‘Fine,’ she whispered and left the room, but not without looking back once, her gaze arrested as she watched Jason shrug out of his shirt, the bronzed muscles of his back rippling with the simple movement. Then his hands went to his belt buckle and she fled.

CHAPTER EIGHT (#ulink_ab3c62e2-acdd-58f8-aac2-dd896df17171)

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.