by Sarah Morgan
‘Avery—’ he leaned forward and kissed the cool blonde on both cheeks ‘—you’ve surpassed yourself. It’s spectacular. Thank you.’
‘My pleasure. May you both have an absolutely brilliant and unforgettable time and don’t forget to tell your friends, as long as they’re rich and can afford me.’ Avery extracted herself from Lucas without smudging her lipstick and winked at Emma. ‘I am loving that dress. Lucas, what do you think? Am I a genius or am I just incredibly good at what I do?’
Lucas gave her a speculative look. ‘Be careful.’
Avery chose to ignore the warning. ‘She is nothing like your usual type. Hang onto her.’ She gave him a friendly punch on the arm and Lucas gave a slight frown.
‘She’s the best PA I’ve ever had so I certainly intend to.’
Avery was scanning the crowd, looking for problems. ‘That wasn’t what I meant, and you know it, you utterly infuriating man. Now go and enjoy the party.’
‘Emma doesn’t like parties.’
‘Emma doesn’t go to parties,’ Avery said gently, ‘which isn’t the same thing at all. She’s going to totally love this one because I organised it and it’s going to be perfect.’
Emma never found out how Lucas would have responded to that because at that moment there was a clacking sound in the sky and Lucas glanced over his shoulder towards the beach where a helicopter was landing. ‘Looks as if the Prince has arrived.’
The change in Avery was instantaneous. All the fizz and bubble went out of her, like a glass of champagne that had been left sitting overnight on a table. ‘If you’ll excuse me, duty calls. I expect I’ll see you both later. Have fun.’ Without looking in the direction of the helicopter, she walked away on heels that should have made it impossible to balance. Emma, who could guess how bad she was probably feeling, wondered if she should follow.
‘She and Mal have history,’ Lucas drawled, ‘but don’t mention it now because here he comes and it isn’t a good idea to talk about Mal’s past relationships. Unless Cristiano and I are teasing him in private, of course. Smile. He’s royalty.’
The next few minutes were a blur of introductions.
Emma found the Prince seriously intimidating. Surrounded by heavyweight security, he dominated his surroundings, which probably wasn’t surprising given his status. What was surprising was the fact that he didn’t dominate Lucas. The two men stood side by side, equal in height, stature but also achievement.
They talked easily, as old friends and peers, and as she listened, Emma realised that it was Lucas she was listening to, not the Prince. It was Lucas she was looking at. She hungered to feel that beautiful mouth on hers, to feel those hands on her, to dig her fingers into the luxuriant blue-black hair.
In despair, she looked away. She was completely obsessed about a man she couldn’t have.
Was this how Avery felt all the time?
Emma sneaked a glance at the Prince, still in conversation with Lucas, and wondered if the feeling was one-sided. Was Avery also in love with a man who couldn’t love her back? There was no sign of an inner struggle on that bronzed, handsome face. No hint that tonight might be as difficult for him as it was for her.
And then she saw the moment the Prince picked out Avery in the crowd and saw him go utterly still as the woman who loved him so deeply turned her head to look at him. Their eyes met and held.
Knowing that she was witnessing a private moment that shouldn’t be witnessed, Emma turned away quickly feeling a flash of deep empathy with the other woman. And also for Mal because in her own small way she understood about responsibility and duty.
And then she felt guilty even thinking that because although it was true that she had a responsibility towards Jamie, he was also her brother and she adored him.
And if she had put her own life on hold, that was her fault, wasn’t it? Not Jamie’s. He’d never asked her to do that.
But Angie had. I’ve had him all week and now he’s yours.
Emma frowned as she realised how much she’d allowed her sister’s attitude to affect her. How much she’d tried to compensate for Angie’s lack of warmth towards their brother. Angie expected her to take responsibility at weekends and Emma had gone along with that because she adored spending time with Jamie and because—she breathed deeply—and because she was afraid to stand up to her sister.
Jamie wouldn’t care if she occasionally booked a baby sitter and went out. But Angie would. Angie would ladle on the guilt.
She straightened her shoulders.
That had to change. And she had to be the one to change it.
She was standing here now, wearing a dress that made her feel incredible, because someone else had pressured her into it but she realised that she could have done this by herself if she’d made the effort. Not the party and the illustrious company—of course not that—but dressing up and meeting new people. She could have done more of that. She would do more of that. This holiday, she was going to sit her sister down and tell her that things needed to change for all of them.
And then Lucas drew her to his side and the next moment he was introducing her to someone and she was smiling, and talking, and making bright conversation even though the only coherent thought her brain could produce was I want him. They mingled, met what felt like a million people and Emma kept smiling until she felt her face would crack, until her cheek muscles were tired and her head throbbed with the effort of making polite conversation. She shook so many hands and kissed so many cheeks that faces and greetings blurred.
It seemed that everyone wanted a piece of him and she noticed people bunching close by, all waiting for the chance to talk to Lucas Jackson.
And then finally they moved towards the marquee, the magnificent tent lined in swathes of midnight-blue silk, studded with glittering jewels that shone like a million tiny stars in a night sky and the music slid into her and suddenly she wanted to dance and dance. She wanted to make up for all the times in her life she hadn’t danced and she turned to Lucas, eyes glowing.
‘Is it allowed? Can we?’
He narrowed his eyes as if he sensed the change in her but didn’t quite understand it. ‘It’s allowed, but I don’t dance.’
Emma was about to argue and persuade him when he turned to speak to yet another acquaintance—did he know everyone?—and she reminded herself that she could dance without him. That dancing without him might actually be a good thing. She was allowed to dance and have fun and the music was fast and infectious so she just walked away from him and onto the dance floor feeling ridiculously free. She never did this, did she? She so rarely did something just for her, because she wanted to. Sex, she thought as she closed her eyes and let the music take her. That was something she’d done just because she’d wanted to. Because it had felt right at the time, just as this did.
And now she danced because she couldn’t not dance with the music washing over her and the smiles of the people around her. And she was smiling too as she raised her arms like everyone else and threw her head back and let her body move to the rhythm.
‘Good to see you letting your hair down.’ It was Carlo, the Ferraras’ cool, enigmatic lawyer who she’d been introduced to at the meeting earlier in the day.
And she danced and worked hard to have fun, ignoring the small nagging part of her that wanted to be dancing with Lucas.
Dancing was personal.
It was a good job he’d refused her.
He’d brought this on himself.
He was the one who had insisted she join him at the party. He was the one who had sent her off shopping to buy something suitable so he had no one to blame but himself if she returned with a dress that made him think nothing but indecent thoughts.
He’d refused to dance with her because he knew it would make a difficult situation even more difficult and the result of that was that she’d danced anyway, and now she was with Carlo, the Ferraras’ smooth-talking, handsome lawyer and it required a superhuman effort not to stride through the crowd
of dancers and drag her away from him.
Did it make it better or worse that she wasn’t even looking at him?
Better, he decided and then thought that no, actually, it probably made it worse.
He told himself that she was just dancing, as were about a hundred other people around her, but then the music slowed and she slid into Carlo’s arms, the change in the tempo of the music immediately altering the atmosphere. The dancing shifted from impersonal to personal. Lucas watched through narrowed eyes as Carlo’s hand curved into the centre of Emma’s back. That smooth, bare back that had been distracting him all evening.
Lucas had a sudden image of firelight on soft skin and suddenly he was striding across the dance floor, through entwined couples, until he reached his target. If he’d been asked to explain his behaviour he couldn’t have done so. Never before had he cared enough to extract a woman from the arms of another man but he did it now without pause or hesitation.
‘My dance.’ It was a command, not a question and Carlo acknowledged that with the lift of an eyebrow, but he clearly saw something in Lucas’s face because he reluctantly released Emma.
‘Perhaps I’ll see you later,’ he murmured and Lucas felt his mood grow darker by the minute.
‘She’ll be busy later. But thank you for looking after her while I was busy with clients.’
Emma’s eyes widened and she opened her mouth to speak, but Lucas slid his arms around her and moulded her against him before she could object. For a moment she stood stiff and he thought she might push him away. Then she sank against him and he held her the way Carlo had held her, except that this was an entirely different intimacy because their bodies already knew each other. That recognition was there and with it the memories and he felt the shiver pass through her and into him. It was no longer just a dance.
They were surrounded by people and yet they might as well have been alone for all the difference it made to the attraction.
As Carlo strolled away from them, Emma looked up at him. ‘You were rude.’
‘You asked me to dance.’
‘That was earlier. And you said no.’
‘So? I changed my mind.’
‘In the middle of a dance? You couldn’t have waited?’
No, he couldn’t have waited and the knowledge unsettled him because impulse and urgency had no place in his life and he didn’t want to feel this way. Never had felt this way before. ‘He was behaving in an inappropriate manner.’
‘We were just dancing. What’s inappropriate about that?’
The image of Carlo’s hand on her bare back was burned into his brain. ‘For someone who supposedly loathes parties you appear to be having an incredible time.’
‘I am having an incredible time. And I never said I loathed parties. Just that I never have the chance to go to any. I’m making the most of it and enjoying myself. I would have thought you’d be pleased.’
‘Why would I be pleased?’
She sighed. ‘Not pleased perhaps, but I didn’t think—’ She hesitated, staring at his shirt and not his face. ‘I thought this was what you wanted. I didn’t really think you’d care what I did in my own time.’
It was a reasonable, logical comment but nothing about the way he felt was reasonable or logical.
Aware that people were watching them curiously, Lucas closed his hand around her wrist. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
She didn’t argue and he felt her pulse flutter against his fingers as he strode off the dance floor virtually towing her behind him.
‘Could you slow down? I’m still an amateur at walking in heels.’ She tugged at her wrist but he didn’t let her go until they were out of the crowd and back outside under the starry sky.
Then he released her and she stared at him, confused by what was going on and he had no answer for her unspoken question because he was confused too. And he wasn’t used to feeling confused. He was never confused.
‘Do you think it’s unprofessional of me to dance? Is that what’s wrong?’ She spoke slowly, clearly ticking off possible explanations in her head. ‘I did ask you and I thought as we’d done the meeting and greeting it would be—’
‘It wasn’t unprofessional.’
‘Then—’
‘Just drop it, Emma.’
‘How can I drop it? You’ve dragged me off the dance floor so I’ve obviously upset you in some way. You have been glaring at me since you gave me that necklace. And in the meeting this afternoon you were glowering.’ Her fingers fiddled with the jewel at her throat. ‘I understand that you regret what happened the other night, but as far as I’m concerned it’s in the past. Honestly, you don’t have to worry. It’s true that I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get back to how we were, but I’ve discovered that I can. I know I can.’
Then she was doing better than he was because he didn’t know that at all. ‘So were you dancing with Carlo because you wanted to or because you wanted to prove to me that what we shared hasn’t affected our relationship?’
‘Does it even matter?’ She looked back towards the tent, leaving him with only a glimpse of her profile and the curve of her dark eyelashes.
‘You should be careful around Carlo.’
‘Oh for goodness’ sake, Lucas—he’s the Ferraras’ lawyer. I’ve spoken to him a few times on the phone when he’s called the office and he is a really nice guy.’
‘Based on what evidence? Because he’s good-looking? Because he’s charming? You’re not exactly an experienced judge given the number of relationships you’ve had in your life.’
This time she looked at him with eyes that questioned his sanity. ‘Carlo grew up with the Ferrara brothers. They are lifelong friends, so presumably they see admirable qualities in him. I suppose the way we feel about people is coloured by our own experience. Perhaps you’re too harsh a judge and no one would blame you for that given your background.’
‘Perhaps you’re naïve.’
‘I was dancing with him, not proclaiming undying love. Don’t you think you might be overreacting?’
Overreacting? Lucas dragged his hand over the back of his neck. ‘Maybe I can read his mind better than you can. He’s a red-blooded male.’
‘Even if you’re right about that, why would it matter to you? You’ve made it clear that you want our relationship to stay professional and nothing else so actually it’s irrelevant. You don’t have to watch out for me. That isn’t your role.’ She paused as a couple walked past them, arm in arm, and then lowered her voice. ‘We agreed not to talk about this and we certainly shouldn’t be talking about it here.’
‘Good point. So let’s go somewhere we won’t be disturbed.’ Knowing that he was acting irrationally, Lucas closed his hand around her wrist again and drew her along the path towards the hotel, walking so fast she almost stumbled.
‘For goodness’ sake, Lucas, you can’t just leave! There are people hovering waiting to talk to you.’
‘I don’t care.’
‘You are not making this easy.’
‘I don’t care about that either.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘Somewhere private. Somewhere we can talk without an audience.’
She’d never seen him like this before. They were at a side entrance to the hotel and, barely pausing, Lucas swiped a card through a scanner and the doors opened.
And Emma saw immediately that they were back in the Presidential Suite but this time via a private entrance that led straight onto the beach.
The doors purred closed behind them and she waited for him to release her but instead he kept his fingers locked firmly around her wrist as he strode into the living room.
She wondered if she ought to point out that he was breaking his own rule. ‘Lucas, we really ought to—’
‘Maybe you’ll push him too far, have you thought of that?’ His tone was raw and savage. ‘Maybe he seems like a decent human being until circumstances turn him into something else.’
Emma blinked, confus
ed, and then realised that he was no longer talking about Carlo, he was talking about himself. About what had happened between them two nights before and her breathing jammed because she’d been trying so hard not to think about it. ‘Lucas—’
‘And when that happens, maybe you won’t spot the signals, because you didn’t spot them with me, did you? You didn’t know when to back off. You could have left. You should have left. But you didn’t. And then—you couldn’t stop me, could you?’ His tone was thickened and the breath caught in her throat because she could see that he was on the edge and she’d had no idea that his feelings were so intense. She’d thought it was just her.
‘I could have stopped you. But I didn’t want to.’
‘Why? Because you’re such a giving person you were willing to sleep with me to help me out?’
‘No. Because I find you incredibly sexy and always have. Yes, I could have left, but I didn’t want to. I chose not to. I could have stopped you but I chose not to do that either. And I’m glad I didn’t because what we shared was special to me. Not just special—’ she paused, wondering how honest to be ‘—it was the most exciting, erotic experience of my life. I don’t regret it. I would do exactly the same again.’
‘Would you?’ His eyes met hers and suddenly it was hard to breathe.
‘Yes.’
There was a brief pause and then they moved towards each other at the same time. Her arms were round his neck, his hands in her hair, their mouths hungry for each other as they kissed.
His mouth on hers, Lucas groaned deep in his throat. ‘I promised myself that I wasn’t going to do this again.’
‘Then I’m so glad you’re breaking your promise.’
He lifted his head but his hand remained locked in her hair as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to let her go. ‘It’s wrong of me. Selfish.’
‘No—’ Standing on tiptoe and lifting her face to his, she breathed the word against his lips. ‘It can’t be selfish if I want it too, and I do want it, Lucas. I want you.’ Bold now, she traced his lips with her tongue and he gave up the fight, cupped her face and kissed her back, taking everything she was offering and demanding more. And the kiss was everything she remembered. He kissed with skill and assurance but this time she was determined that he should know this was her choice. That he was her choice. So she placed her hand in the centre of his chest and pushed him off balance. He fell back onto the bed and before he had a chance to recover Emma straddled him, pinning his arms above his head, smiling at his stunned expression.