in her voice Emma clearly heard the undertone of steel in her mother-in-law’s words.
Jack didn’t say anything more, but she could practically feel the waves of frustration rolling off him.
‘The full interview will be in the next issue because there just isn’t room for it in this one and we’ll want to do a nice big spread,’ Perdita went on gaily, apparently enjoying the drama that was unfolding in front of her. Emma guessed she could see a whole career’s worth of titillating stories in the offing.
‘I had a fight on my hands finding some room for these pictures, to be honest,’ Perdita went on. ‘We had to bump a spread on Fenella Fenwicke’s third wedding.’
Tripping over to where she and Jack stood shifting uncomfortably on their feet, she put a cool hand onto Emma’s wrist.
Emma had to work hard not to whip her arm away from the clingy covetousness of the woman’s grip.
‘Now then. Shall we have one of the two of you looking adoringly into each other’s eyes? That should play well with our readers.’
Emma’s heart sank. She was going to have to look into Jack’s eyes with the same insipid expression she’d been struggling to maintain for the past twenty minutes and still hold it together.
What if he saw past her nonchalant façade and noticed how she was desperately trying to hide how much she still cared for him? And what if he didn’t actually care about her any more and she saw it there clearly in his face? How would she cope when all these people were watching them?
Taking a breath, she steeled herself against her trepidation and turned around to look at him.
Jack looked back at her, his green-flecked hazel eyes filled with an unnerving intensity behind his long dark lashes.
Emma’s heart thumped hard against her chest as she forced herself not to break eye contact with him.
He was so outrageously handsome it dragged the breath from her lungs.
But handsome didn’t keep her warm at night, she reminded herself. It didn’t make her feel secure and loved, wanted and treasured.
Safe.
Falling in love was a precarious business, full of hidden dangers and potential heartbreak, and she didn’t know if she could bear the idea of being that vulnerable again. Not when she’d already experienced how quickly and catastrophically things could go wrong.
After a few more seconds of torture, Jack and Emma holding the same pseudo loving pose for the camera, Perdita finally clapped her hands together and gave a tinkling little laugh.
‘That’s it! Perfect. I think we have all we need for now.’ She turned to Jack’s mother. ‘I’ll let you know when the issue with the pictures is out, Miranda.’
‘Thank you, Perdie. You’re a good friend.’
And a shrewd businesswoman, Emma thought with a twinge of distaste. Those pictures would probably be worth a fortune if she leaked them to the papers, not to mention the career-enhancing glory of getting the scoop for her magazine.
‘I’ll call you about setting up that at home interview in a couple of days,’ she shouted across to Jack and Emma as she bustled about, gathering up her bag and laptop.
After another minute of fussing and gushing pleasantries with the marquess and marchioness, Perdita finally left in a flurry of kisses and a blast of expensive perfume and the atmosphere in the room settled into an unnerving hum of prickly discontent.
* * *
Jack had had enough of his parents’ intrusion into his affairs.
‘Right, well, now this circus is over we’ll be leaving,’ he said to them.
‘Wait, Jack, why don’t you stay a little longer so we can get to know our new daughter-in-law a bit better?’ his mother said in an appeasing tone, bustling over to where he and Emma stood.
He didn’t like the glint of mischief in her eyes. No doubt she would spend the time grilling Emma in the hope of getting her to admit to something they could use against her later.
There was no way he was letting that happen.
‘You got what you wanted. We put on a good show for the sake of your image as invested parents-in-law, so now you can leave us alone,’ he snapped.
‘Jack, we just want what’s best for the family—’ his father began.
‘No, you don’t,’ Jack broke in angrily, ‘you want what’s best for you. Well, I’m doing what’s best for us and that means getting the hell away from this toxic atmosphere. Come on, Emma.’ He held out his hand to her.
She took it, wrapping her fingers tightly around his, and he was alarmed to feel how much she was trembling.
She’d projected such an outwardly cool exterior throughout the whole debacle he was surprised to discover she seemed to be suffering just as much as he was.
‘I’m sorry to leave so suddenly, Clare,’ he said, turning to his sister.
He was grateful that she’d stuck around to be here today. It had been good to have another ally for Emma in a strained situation like this.
And he was glad for the opportunity to see his sister again; he’d missed her open smile and level-headed, easy company while he’d been living away in the States.
Clare gave them both an understanding smile. ‘You must both come up to Edinburgh soon,’ she said, her expression telling him there was no way she was letting them get away without seeing her for that long again.
He just nodded at her, uncomfortably aware that he and Emma might not be together for very much longer so there was no point in trying to arrange anything with his sister for the future.
He’d work out how to handle all that later though.
Right now he wanted to get Emma out of there and as far away from his parents as possible.
They left without another word, Jack aware of his parents’ disgruntled gazes on his back but not giving a fig how they felt about him laying down the law to them. No way was he going to let them try to run his life.
Back outside he opened the passenger door for Emma and watched her slide into the car, as graceful as ever—struck by how even in the most difficult situations she still managed to maintain her poise—then went round to the other side of the car and got in next to her.
They drove away in silence, Emma watching out of the window as the car made its way down the long driveway, glancing back to look at the house as if concerned that his parents might come out and hotfoot it after them.
She caught his eye and he gave her a tight smile, which she returned.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked her, half expecting her to shout at him now for putting her through that. ‘I’m sorry about them landing a journalist on us like that. I know how you must hate them after what they did to your family when your father died.’
‘It
