Mr and Mischief (15 page)

‘And that’s just what it is. A fairy tale.’ He dug his hands into the pockets of his coat, shaking his head as he turned away from her. ‘That’s why I don’t want a marriage based on love. It’s fickle, fleeting, and it makes you unhappy. I thought you’d see sense—’

She tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a bark. ‘When have I ever seen sense?’

The anger seemed to seep out of Jason, leaving him silent, even defeated. He turned to her with a small, sad smile. ‘I suppose I’m the one who hasn’t been sensible, convincing myself that you wanted the same thing I did, that you didn’t care about love and romance and the rest.’ He looked at her ruefully, trying to lighten the moment, although his eyes were still shadowed. ‘If I’d really thought about it I’d know it was utter bunk. You’ve been pairing everyone else into happily-ever-afters. Of course you want the same for yourself.’

She sniffed. Loudly. ‘Yes, I do.’

‘And my idea for a happily-ever-after isn’t the same as yours.’ He paused, his voice quiet. ‘It isn’t enough.’

Emily’s heart twisted. Tore. She felt as if she’d failed him somehow, as if she were being demanding and unreasonable by wanting that most elemental and ephemeral thing,
love.
And part of her wanted to tell him that it didn’t matter, that maybe her love could be enough for both of them. But she knew it couldn’t.

‘It’s better this way, I suppose, than to realise later.’ He paused, his gaze turning distant. ‘I’ve seen how different expectations from a marriage can make things miserable. A living hell, in fact.’ He gave a short, rather cold laugh, and Emily stiffened, surprised by this sudden intimacy, this peek
into Jason’s personal life that she’d never even known about. ‘My parents had that. My father has never been a very expressive man, and I don’t know if he loved my mother. I know he never told her.’ He paused, his throat working, and Emily knew how hard this must be for him to say. ‘She certainly didn’t know. She became more and more unhappy, wanting something from him that he could never give.’ He glanced at her, his lips twisting in a rather grim smile. ‘Words. Gestures. All these proofs of love that are meaningless—’

Plastic-wrapped bouquets and meaningless compliments.
‘But they’re not meaningless if you really do mean them, Jason,’ Emily said quietly. ‘If there’s something behind the words. The gestures.’ She paused, then dredged up the courage to say quietly, ‘If you love me.’

He stared at her, his face like a mask, a curtain coming down over his eyes, his heart. She couldn’t see in. She didn’t know what he was thinking, but he certainly didn’t need to say any words to confirm the awful truth: he didn’t love her. Why was she torturing herself this way? ‘Tell me,’ she asked, her throat raw and scratchy, the tears crowding the corners of her eyes and then sliding down her face, ‘have you ever told anyone you loved them?’ She swiped at her wet cheeks, her tears already freezing in the winter air.

Jason did not answer for an endless, aching moment. Finally, he said in a voice Emily could barely hear, ‘Once.’

He didn’t elaborate and Emily stared at him sadly. ‘And what happened?’

‘It was my mother,’ he said, the words drawn from him with deep and obvious reluctance. ‘And she didn’t say anything.’ He pressed his lips together, clearly finished.

There had to be more to that memory than Jason seemed willing to tell, Emily thought. Perhaps it held a clue or even a key to why he was so reluctant to love anyone now. She sighed, the sound trembling with suppressed emotion. ‘We’re a sorry pair.’

‘Aren’t we just.’

They both lapsed into a silence of sorrow, an ocean of regret opening up between them. Jason let out a ragged sigh and nodded towards the Manor, looming in the distance, a darkened hulk against the violet sky. Twilight had crept over the countryside without her even realising it; darkness had come. ‘You should go in. You look cold.’

‘Aren’t … aren’t you coming?’

Jason shook his head, his gaze on the distance, his expression remote. ‘I’ll walk a bit longer.’

And silently, because there was really nothing more to say, Emily turned and went back inside the house.

When Jason returned an hour later, he barely looked at her. He brushed off Isobel’s fussing that he must have frozen himself to death, and accepted Jack’s good-natured teasing that he preferred the cold to being inside with the lot of them. When Emily sneaked glances at him, his expression was sometimes blank, sometimes brooding, and gave her no insight as to how he really felt.

Yet it shouldn’t even matter, because everything had already been said. The only option now was to pick up the pieces of her broken heart and cobble them together, carrying on, just like before. Perhaps Jason’s personal business would conclude sooner than he anticipated and he’d return to Africa or Asia or wherever his next engineering project would take him.

Yet even that thought gave her a weary pang. She’d miss him. She missed him already.

The hour slogging through the snow had numbed Jason’s heart and mind, as well as his body. He needed that numbness because the conversation with Emily had opened up too many feelings, too many regrets. Too many memories.

Have you ever told anyone you loved them?

Once.

For a moment, in his mind’s eye, Jason could see his
mother’s pale face, the tears sliding silently down her waxen cheeks. He heard his stammering protest that
he
loved her at least, and watched her turn her face to the wall.

It was the last time he’d ever seen her alive.

He pushed the memory down, not wanting to deal with the swamping sense of devastation and loneliness it caused. There was a reason he never thought of it. A reason he’d decided to pursue a marriage of convenience, a marriage without the pain and disappointment of love.

Love hurt. It hurt the person loved and the person loving. It was messy, disappointing, complicated and unnecessary. He’d witnessed his parents’ marriage crumble to nothing, seen his mother collapse into herself because his father could never give her what she wanted. As an adult he’d realised his mother had most likely been suffering from depression, which had contributed to her unhappiness in her marriage. He knew plenty of people fell in love, believed the fairy tale. Lived it. Yet he wasn’t willing to take the risk. He was too like his father, sensible, silent, unwilling to say those three little words.

Have you ever told anyone you loved them?

Once.

And that was why—at least in part—he never planned to say—or feel—it again.

T
HE
snow had turned to slush by the time Emily returned to work after New Year’s. Her mood matched the dreary weather, as it had since that last painful conversation with Jason. She hadn’t seen him since Christmas Day; he’d left Weldon that afternoon to drive back to London and work.

Now, as she dragged herself back to the office, she wondered if she’d see him. What he would say. What
she
would say. Her mind felt empty of words or even thoughts. She felt numb, although it was the kind of numbness that still allowed her to be aware of the yawning unhappiness fogging the fringes of her mind; she felt as if she were skating on very thin ice and at any time she could crash through and drown in the churning emotions below.

Helen greeted her at reception, looking bright-eyed and rosy-cheeked. She seemed, Emily thought with equal parts relief and resentment, to have recovered from Philip’s putdown.

‘Happy Christmas, Emily!’ Helen called out. ‘Or should I say Happy New Years? In any case, it’s glorious out, isn’t it?’

Emily glanced over her shoulder at the icy, needling drizzle and made a face. ‘I don’t know if glorious is the term I’d choose.’

Helen blushed, making her look lovelier than ever. ‘Oh, no, I suppose … it’s just … I’m so
happy.’

‘That’s certainly good to hear.’ Helen’s obvious cheer lifted Emily’s own sagging spirits a little. ‘You had a nice holiday?’

‘Oh, yes.’ Helen leaned forward. ‘I know you’re going to think me so scatty, but I’m not broken up over—’ she nibbled her lip ‘—you-know-who any more.’

‘I’m glad to hear that.’ Even if she still felt guilty. And miserable. ‘I’m so sorr—’

‘No, no, don’t be sorry,’ Helen said quickly. ‘Really, it’s fine. And—’ she glanced up shyly at Emily, her face colouring a little more ‘—there’s someone else now.’

‘There is?’ Emily tried to keep the note of surprise—and perhaps even censure—from her voice. ‘Well, that’s … that’s wonderful. And I suppose by how happy you are he feels the same?’

‘I think he does,’ Helen said, and Emily wondered if a word of caution might be needed. Clearly there had been some misunderstanding in the past. If Helen needed advice, however, she was hardly the person to give it. ‘I know he does,’ Helen stated firmly, and Emily decided not to press.

‘Well, who is this lucky man?’

‘I don’t know if you’ll approve—’

‘Oh, Helen, you hardly need my approval.’ Emily smiled, suppressing a weary sigh. ‘I’ve obviously proved myself to be quite useless at matchmaking, and at relationships in general, for that matter. I’m sure the two of you will be fine.’

‘It’s Richard,’ Helen admitted in a whisper, and Emily stared at her in surprise.

‘But—’

‘He asked me to marry him,’ Helen confessed in a rush. ‘I didn’t say yes yet, but he really is so kind and I know he’ll treat me right—’

Emily swallowed down the words she wanted to say. She
would not offer advice. Not any more. ‘And do you think that will be enough?’

‘What more is there?’ Helen asked simply and Emily let out a little laugh.

‘Not much, I suppose.’ Roses and proclamations of love and being swept off your feet. Romance. Passion. Love.

Plastic-wrapped bouquets and meaningless compliments.

Jason would quite approve of Helen’s statement, Emily thought as she headed up to her office. She felt like the last person in the world who still believed in love. In something more.

Back in her office, Emily sank into her seat, her fingers rubbing her temples. She felt the beginnings of a headache coming on, but it was nothing compared to the misery swamping her soul. When did it get better? How?

She wondered if she should change jobs, just to give herself a little space from Jason. Even if he spent every second in Africa, or wherever else, this was still his company and there were reminders of him everywhere. Yet the thought of leaving Kingsley Engineering—and any chance to be near Jason, however small—was heart-wrenching.

She really was a mess, Emily thought as she switched on her computer. After years of feeling breezily confident and put together, of arranging other people’s lives and being so very sure of her own, she was now coming apart at the seams. Had it all been a mirage, a
lie
all this time, and this was who she really was—and how she really felt?

Grimly, Emily had to acknowledge that this overwhelming love for Jason had not sprung suddenly over the course of a single night. It had been there all along, quietly growing, from the moment he’d taken her into his arms at her sister’s wedding—or perhaps before then. Who even knew how long she’d loved Jason? He’d been so much a part of her life, and
yet now he was the most important part, and he wasn’t even in it any more.

Emily pushed the thoughts away, knowing these painful reflections would only become maudlin if she continued to indulge herself in useless recriminations. Reaching for her coffee mug, she straightened her shoulders and prepared for a long day of work.

The days passed slowly, marked by their mundanity. And the absence of Jason. Once again he remained out of the office, and Emily couldn’t bring herself to ask his assistant or anyone else where he might be. It was, so very clearly, none of her business.

So when Jason’s PA telephoned her a week later, she received the urgent summons to his office with surprise, trepidation and even a little terror.

‘You mean … now?’

‘Yes, Mr Kingsley’s waiting.’

‘I’ll be right there.’ Emily hung up the phone, trying to quiet the swarm of butterflies that had just taken residence in her stomach and now threatened to crawl up her throat. She’d never been so urgently summoned to Jason’s office. She hadn’t even been in his office in years.

What did he want?

Already her mind—and heart—leapt ahead, imagining a most unlikely scenario. He’d changed his mind. He realised he loved her.

Forget what I said before, Em. I was crazy to think I could last a day without you …

Somehow Emily knew that was not what Jason intended to say. Anyway, he’d already lasted well over a week. After checking her reflection in the mirror—she looked pale, but composed—she headed upstairs to the CEO’s office.

Eloise, his PA, nodded briskly as Emily stepped into the reception area in front of a pair of closed mahogany doors.

‘Go right in, Emily. He’s waiting.’

Good heavens, was she in trouble? Was she going to be
fired?
Was this Jason’s way of excising her from his life? He didn’t need to leave; she would.

Swallowing down her nerves, Emily turned the handle of one of the doors and slipped into Jason’s huge, sumptuous office.

He stood at the far end, behind his desk, his back to her as he surveyed the panoramic view of the city. Emily took a few hesitant steps inside. Her heart beat wildly and she didn’t trust herself to speak, or at least to sound normal.

After a long, torturous moment Jason turned around. His dark eyes swept over her and there was no glint of amusement, no welcoming smile. No dimple. His expression looked frighteningly sober. ‘Hello, Emily.’

Emily nodded her own greeting. She still didn’t think she could speak. A huge lump had risen in her throat and it was making everything inside her ache.

Jason surveyed her quietly, his gaze seeming not just to take her in but to
memorise
her, and Emily suddenly had an awful feeling about why she’d been summoned to his office. The last faint flicker of hope that he’d changed his mind crumbled to ash. Stupid of her to have even entertained such an idea for a second. The only reason Jason would look at her like that was because he was going to say goodbye.

‘You wanted to speak to me?’ she finally managed to ask in a husky whisper.

‘I wanted to say goodbye,’ Jason said. ‘I’m leaving. To Brazil this time. There’s a dam being built on the Parana River and they’ve asked me to come in as a consultant.’

‘Oh.’ Emily cleared her throat, trying to ignore the searing pain of loss this announcement caused her. It shouldn’t matter, yet it did. It hurt, unbearably. ‘I thought you were staying in London for a while.’

‘Well—’ Jason smiled crookedly ‘—I’ve concluded my personal business for the moment.’

‘You mean finding a wife,’ she said flatly.
Business.
He shrugged his assent and Emily forced the words out. ‘So who did you decide on, in the end?’

He stared at her, unspeaking, as if he were trying to make sense of her words. ‘You think I found someone else to marry in the last ten days?’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘I may be a bit sensible for your liking, Emily, but I’m not completely heartless. No, I’ve decided not to pursue marriage at this time.’

He sounded as if he were talking about a corporate merger.
At this time.
Well, he would eventually. He’d find someone who agreed with his plan, who liked his lists. It just wasn’t—couldn’t be—her. Even if at this moment she wanted it to be.

‘Well,’ she said when she trusted her voice, ‘I don’t think there’s any pressing business in HR you need to—’

‘Emily
—’ Jason’s voice sounded a raw note of pain she hadn’t expected ‘—do you think I called you up here to talk about HR?’

‘Considering the kind of summons I received, I assumed it was
business,’
Emily replied stiffly.

Jason rubbed a hand over his face. He suddenly looked incredibly weary. ‘I’m sorry if that’s the way it seemed. I simply wanted to say goodbye. My plane leaves this afternoon.’

‘Oh.’ Emily swallowed. ‘Well.’ She tried to smile. She did, but instead she found the corners of her mouth turning down. ‘Have a good—’ She couldn’t finish the sentence because her voice wobbled all too revealingly. Before she could even feel the wash of humiliation this caused, Jason strode towards her and in one swift, sure movement he took her by the shoulders and pulled her towards him.

Shock and then pleasure raced through her as his lips came down hard on hers and he kissed her with all the pent-up sorrow and ferocity she’d thought only she felt. And, as her body kicked into its overwhelming physical response, her
breasts colliding with his chest, her fingers threading through his hair, her mind insisted on dismissing whatever didn’t work between them. She wanted love? Forget it. She needed romance? It didn’t matter. She could live without them as long as they had
this …

Yet, even as her body was clamouring for him and her mind was insisting it was enough, her heart knew better. And when Jason released her so abruptly that she took a stumbling step backwards, she didn’t speak. Jason did.

‘Goodbye,’ he said and turned away from her.

Emily stood there for a moment, bereft, humiliated,
aching
as the tears crowded her eyes and stung her lids. She blinked hard, swallowed down the restless churn of emotions Jason’s kiss had caused and left his office without another word.

It wasn’t supposed to hurt this much. Jason kept his gaze fixed on the window as he heard the soft click of the door closing. He’d hoped that saying goodbye to Emily would kick-start his body and mind into forgetting her.

Forget that.

He ached all over, ached with the knowledge that he’d lost her, that he loved her.

No. He did not love Emily Wood. He would not indulge himself in that useless emotion, that recipe for unhappiness—

His childhood had been marked by his mother’s sorrow, his adolescence by his father’s silence. He’d seen what love did to people. How it disappointed them. And involving himself with Emily when that was what she so clearly wanted would be a very grave error. He couldn’t take that risk.

Have you ever told anyone you loved them?

He wasn’t going to do it again.

She stayed numb. January dragged into February, and Emily went to work and home again like an automaton, performing the necessary functions of survival without ever really
engaging in anything. Somehow she managed to smile and talk and even laugh. She thought she was giving a pretty convincing performance that she was fine. And maybe, eventually, her mind and heart would be convinced as well and she’d really start living—and feeling—again.

Other people had recovered from their setbacks, Emily told herself. Helen was now happy with Richard, even though he’d gone to Brazil with Jason. Skype and email worked wonders, and her brief infatuation with Philip was clearly a thing of the past. Even Gillian Bateson was doing better; she had gained partial custody of her daughter and she’d dropped some of the lofty smugness that Emily knew had just been a way of protecting herself. Everyone had armour of some kind.

So why did she feel so stripped bare?

Why couldn’t she feel
better?

As February limped towards March and her heart continued its awful ache, Emily wondered if she ever would.

She was considering this rather dire possibility when the lights in her office flicked off. She looked up in surprise to see Isobel standing in the doorway.

‘Work’s over for the day,’ she announced. ‘I’m taking you out.’

‘It’s not even lunchtime—’

‘Doesn’t matter,’ Isobel replied breezily. ‘You need a break. Even your boss agreed.’

‘Jason?
He’s in Brazil—’

‘I emailed him and asked his permission because I knew you’d resist. He said of course.’

Just the thought that Jason had been thinking about her in some small way sent a fierce bolt of longing through her. She really was pathetic. She hadn’t seen or spoken to him in over six weeks. ‘Why would I ever resist an afternoon out?’ Emily finally said, smiling. ‘I’ve never been a workaholic, Izzy.’

‘Because,’ Isobel said, reaching for Emily’s coat and thrusting it at her, ‘I intend to give you the full sisterly interrogation.

And by the end of the day you won’t have a single secret from me.’

Emily sank back into her chair, eyeing her sister with increasing alarm. ‘On second thoughts—’

‘Consider yourself warned,’ Isobel cut her off, holding up a finger in warning. ‘I’ve booked the babysitter already, so no backing out, Emily. We have a reservation at one. And it’s Jason’s treat.’