Highly Unsuitable: Mr and Mischief / The Darkest of Secrets / The Undoing of de Luca. Kate Hewitt
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and Emily watched as Jason, with that same easy assurance, swilled it in his glass before taking a sip and then nodding his approval. When the man had left, he raised his glass, the deep ruby-red of the wine catching the candlelight, in a toast.
‘To old friends and new beginnings,’ he said, his gaze still lingering, Emily raised her own glass, as well.
‘Hear, hear.’
‘So,’ Jason said once they had each taken a sip of wine, ‘how is Helen getting on?’
‘Ah, I knew there was an ulterior motive to this dinner.’
‘Not at all,’ Jason replied blandly. ‘But, since you interviewed her this morning, I thought I might as well ask.’
‘Well, I hired her as you asked me to. I think she’ll do well enough. She hardly has the experience, though.’
‘I didn’t expect her to.’
Emily raised her eyebrows. ‘A charity case?’
‘Just a kindness,’ Jason replied mildly.
Emily reached for her wine again, suppressing a sharp stab—of something. Whatever uncomfortable emotion was assailing her was not one she wanted to name. ‘She’s quite beautiful, you know.’
‘Actually, I don’t. As you might recall, I told you yesterday that I’d never met her.’
‘Ah, yes.’ Emily pursed her lips. ‘I do recall now. You wanted to hire her as a favour to Richard Marsden.’
Jason cocked his head. ‘I don’t think I mentioned him by name, but yes.’
‘Because,’ Emily continued wryly, but with a little bite to her words, ‘Helen and Richard are going to make a go of it.’
Jason paused, his wine glass halfway to his lips. ‘You sound as if you don’t approve.’
‘Who am I to approve or disapprove?’ Emily replied, her eyebrows arching innocently.
‘It sounds eminently sensible to me,’ Jason said with a brisk reasonableness Emily didn’t like.
‘Oh, yes, very sensible,’ she agreed. ‘Hardly romantic, though.’
‘Romantic?’ Jason frowned. ‘Is it meant to be romantic?’
He sounded so nonplussed that Emily almost wanted to laugh, yet something in her—some deep, hidden well of emotion—kept her from amusement. Instead, she almost felt hurt, which made no sense at all and so she pushed the thought away. ‘Well, in general, Jason,’ she said, as if explaining basic arithmetic to a slightly backward child, ‘the kind of relationship Helen was talking about with Richard is meant to be romantic rather than sensible. You’re hardly choosing a … a pair of shoes when it comes to a girlfriend or even a wife—’
‘I’m a great believer in sensible shoes.’
Emily narrowed her eyes, unable to tell whether Jason was joking or not. She had a feeling he wasn’t. ‘A girl likes to be swept a little bit off her feet, you know.’
‘It sounds dangerous,’ Jason replied, straight-faced. ‘If you’re swept off your feet, you could lose your balance. You might even fall.’
‘Exactly,’ Emily replied. ‘You might fall in love, which is the whole point, isn’t it? Rather than making a go of it.’
He eyed her thoughtfully. ‘You seem to have taken exception to that expression.’
‘I have,’ Emily agreed with a bit more passion than she would have preferred to show. The glass of wine must be going to her head; she’d had hardly anything to eat since breakfast. ‘I’d much rather stay single my whole life than be with someone who asks me to make a go of it,’ she finished, her voice still sounding a little too loud.
‘Duly noted. And are you planning to stay single, then?’
‘As a matter of fact, yes,’ she said, glad to see surprise flash across his features. ‘I’ve no reason to get married.’
‘No reason?’
‘I’m not lonely or unhappy or dying to have children,’ Emily replied with a shrug and a bit more conviction than she actually felt. She didn’t want to admit to Jason that she had no reason to get married because she hadn’t met anyone worth marrying. Worth taking that risk for. ‘I’m not going to wait around for Prince Charming to come and rescue me,’ she declared, her tone starting to sound strident. Jason raised his eyebrows, a small smile playing about his mouth, clearly amused. ‘I want to have fun.’
‘Now that I can believe.’
She made a face at him. ‘What’s wrong with that? There’s plenty of time to settle down.’
‘For you, perhaps.’
‘Oh, yes, I forget how old you are. One foot in the grave already.’ She smiled at him, determined to stay light and teasing although for some reason she was feeling less and less so. ‘In any case,’ she said dismissively, ‘I have friends, a job I love, a niece and nephew to cuddle and a man who adores me.’
Jason stilled. ‘A man who adores you?’ he queried in a tone of polite interest.
Emily couldn’t help but laugh at Jason’s suspicious look. He looked as though he thought she had some sort of toyboy on retainer. ‘My father, of course.’ She eyed him mischievously. ‘Did you think I was talking about someone else?’
‘I wondered,’ he admitted blandly. ‘But since you’ve been wittering on about your determination to stay single, I had to assume we were not talking about a romantic interest.’
‘I wasn’t wittering,’ Emily said with some affront, and Jason raised his eyebrows.
‘I apologise. You were waxing poetically.’
She made a face. ‘That sounds worse.’ To her surprise, she found she was enjoying this little repartee. She leaned forward, a sudden, sharp curiosity making her ask, ‘And what about you, Jason? Any plans to be swept off your feet?’
His mouth quirked upwards, revealing that dimple. ‘I thought I was meant to do the sweeping.’
Emily laughed ruefully in acknowledgement. ‘It sounds as if we’re talking about cleaning a house. Do you intend to marry? Fall in love?’ She’d spoken lightly, yet the question suddenly felt invasive, intimate, and she half-regretted asking it even though she wanted to know the answer. Badly.
Jason rotated his wine glass between his strong brown fingers; the simple action was strangely mesmerising. ‘One does not necessarily require the other,’ he finally said, and Emily felt a bizarre flicker of disappointment.
‘And which would you prefer?’ she asked, keeping her tone light and teasing. ‘Love without marriage, or marriage without love?’
Jason took a sip of wine, his eyes meeting hers over the rim of the glass, his gaze now flat and forbidding. ‘Love, in my opinion, is overrated.’
‘A rather cynical point of view,’ Emily returned after a moment. She felt that flicker of disappointment again, and suppressed it. What did it matter what Jason thought of either love or marriage? ‘What made you decide that?’
He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. ‘Experience, I suppose. Anyone can say they love someone. It’s just a bunch of words you can choose to believe or not. They don’t make much difference, in the end.’ He lapsed into a sudden silence, frowning, as if his own words had triggered an unpleasant thought—or memory. Then his expression cleared, as if by force of will, and he glanced up at her, smiling. ‘Much better, in my opinion, to marry and, yes, even make a go of it than witter on about love—or wax poetically, as the case may be.’ His eyes glinted with knowing humour, and Emily conceded the point with a little laugh although she wondered just what experience had made Jason so cynical … and what had made him frown quite like that.