Highly Unsuitable: Mr and Mischief / The Darkest of Secrets / The Undoing of de Luca. Kate Hewitt
be. He was in the business of finding a wife, not a lover. And despite the lust that still fired his body, he knew Emily could never be either.
EMILY woke up with a vicious headache, which did not endear her to anyone, including Jason. She still had a vague sense of unease from their dinner last night, although she could not articulate why. It had been kind of Jason to take her out and, since she could be a bit more rational about things in the cold light of morning, she was honest enough to acknowledge that it was perfectly right and fair for Jason to be checking up on her. She’d expected it, years ago, and had been surprised and even a little hurt when he’d left so abruptly after he’d hired her. So why should it bother her now?
That part of their conversation, Emily acknowledged, didn’t bother her. No, it was the other, hidden part, the way his eyes had glinted so knowingly and his mouth had quirked up at the corners and he’d murmured in that low hum of a voice that made her feel as if she wasn’t with Jason at all, at least not the Jason she knew and depended on and sometimes—often—was irritated with, the Jason who teased and scolded and kept her in line. She was with a different Jason, someone she wondered whether she knew at all.
It was most unsettling.
Emily pushed that Jason out of her mind as she hurried to dress for work. Her headache had made her slow and after popping a few paracetamol she quickly dressed, grabbed her bag and hurried out of her flat.
She was looking forward to seeing Helen again, who was reporting to HR to start her first day at nine o’clock sharp. Helen was already waiting when Emily arrived, wincing slightly at the bright office light, at five minutes after nine.
‘Sorry … a bit of a slow morning.’
‘Oh, it’s all right,’ Helen said quickly. ‘It’s just so good to be here.’ She smiled, a faint blush tinging her cheeks. ‘I am a bit nervous, though,’ she admitted.
‘I’m sure you’ll be fine,’ Emily assured her as she put her things away and reached for Helen’s paperwork. ‘Come on then, let’s get you sorted.’
Fifteen minutes later, Helen was seated comfortably at the front reception area, with Jane, the other, more senior receptionist, showing her how to work the bank of blinking telephones. There had been a push a few years ago to move to a more modern automated system of taking calls, but Jason had refused, and Emily could guess why. Two receptionists would be out of jobs. Besides, she supposed he was a bit old-fashioned that way, and the personal touch of a real human voice on the other end of the line was always appreciated. It was one of the many things that made Kingsley Engineering head and shoulders above other engineering firms, and Jason Kingsley a wealthy man.
Now Emily watched as Helen’s eyes rounded at the seemingly complicated system of buttons and switches, her expression glazing over as Jane explained how to hold a call while answering another one, and then reeled off a list of employees who never liked to take calls, and other ones who preferred to be interrupted.
‘Goodness,’ Helen murmured. She’d been writing down what Jane was saying, but had abandoned the effort midlist and simply stared around her in what looked to Emily like growing dismay. It reminded Emily of how she’d felt—and probably looked—when she’d started in HR, with Steph explaining a filing system that had been alarming in its complexity.
‘Don’t worry,’ she told Helen, squeezing her shoulder. ‘You’ll get the hang of it in no time. I know it seems overwhelming at first, but it just takes a few calls before it’s easy peasy.’
‘Easy peasy,’ Helen repeated, as if reassuring herself.
‘I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you,’ Emily promised. ‘And take you out to lunch.’ She wasn’t going to make the mistake of skipping lunch again, she thought, even as she acknowledged that Jason wasn’t likely to ask her to dinner two nights in a row.
She hadn’t seen him this morning, which was hardly surprising, yet she still felt a tense expectation prickling between her shoulder blades as she took Helen down to reception. It wasn’t until she saw Jason come through the front doors of the building that the tension eased and her shoulders relaxed, making Emily realise just what had been causing it in the first place.
‘Ah, you must be Helen,’ he said, smiling easily as he held a hand out to shake, and Helen’s blush deepened so she looked truly lovely, all cream and roses.
‘It’s so nice to meet you, Mr Kingsley.’
‘The pleasure is all mine,’ Jason assured her, and his voice had that low, steady thrum that reminded Emily of how he’d been with her last night, how it had made her feel, and she stepped forward, smiling brightly.
‘I’ve just been showing Helen the ropes. But I’m sure she’ll be running rings around Jane within hours!’ Emily smiled conspiratorially at Jane to let her know this wouldn’t quite be the case, and Jason turned from Helen to Emily, his gaze resting on her with that quiet sense of assurance that still, after all these years, had the power to unnerve her.
‘I’m sure she will, if you have anything to do with it,’ he said, and Emily wondered if she was the only one who heard the faintest thread of mocking laughter in his voice. He turned back to Helen, smiling again as he wished her well, and then went to head towards his executive office. After saying her own goodbyes to both receptionists, Emily fell into step with Jason, matching his long stride, and he slid her a sideways glance. ‘You seem to be taking quite an interest in Miss Smith.’
‘I take an interest in all the people I hire,’ Emily replied briskly. ‘It’s my job.’
‘Of course,’ Jason agreed. ‘And an admirable dedication to your job is the only reason, I suppose?’
He was laughing at her, she knew, but somehow she didn’t really mind. She’d reached the door of her office, and she turned to face him, surprised and a bit breathless by how close he stood to her. She could smell the citrusy scent of his aftershave again, and underlying it was a fainter, muskier scent that she knew had to be just Jason and the thought made her stomach flip over in a way she was starting to get used to, it had been happening so often in the few days since Jason had returned. Despite its now familiarity, it still felt strange, unnerving, because this was Jason and save the thirty humiliating seconds when she’d asked him to kiss her, she’d never reacted this way to him before. She could only imagine how horrified he would be if he knew. ‘Of course,’ she said innocently. ‘What else would it be?’
‘As long as you aren’t planning to meddle,’ he said. Although he kept his tone light, Emily heard the warning in his words.
‘Meddle or matchmake?’
‘They’re one and the same.’
‘Only in your opinion.’ She placed a hand on his chest, her palm flattening against the crisp fabric of his shirt, her fingers instinctively seeking the heat of him underneath the cloth. She felt his heart thudding steadily under her palm. She’d meant it to be a light, even impersonal touch, no more than a playful poke in the sternum, yet as if driven by a deeper, baser need, she found it couldn’t be that; her hand acted of its own accord, fingers stretching, seeking, while every thought flew from her head.
‘You don’t need to worry about Helen—or me,’ she finally said, fishing for the words that seemed to have pooled deep in her consciousness. She looked up to meet his gaze, saw the gold flecks in his eyes. They weren’t brown at all. They weren’t boring either. She swallowed. ‘You don’t need to keep an eye on me, Jason. I’m all grown up now.’
‘As I’m coming to realise,’ Jason said, his voice so low Emily felt it vibrate through her. His chest tensed under her hand. They remained silent, unmoving, and Emily felt as if everything had slowed down, distilled into this one moment, which was crazy because it wasn’t a moment at all. They were just talking.