so late in the day. You’ve always been up and out with the lark before now.’
‘Some of us don’t have the good fortune of having regular lie-ins,’ he said, the twinkle in his eye letting her know he was only teasing her.
She turned back to her plate and chewed the last of the croissant hard, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. She hadn’t even brushed her hair this morning and was still in her scruffy old brushed-cotton pyjamas, assuming he’d already left for the office when she’d got up to a quiet house.
Hearing the kettle begin to boil, she turned to look towards where he now stood, dropping a teabag into a mug. The ends of his hair were curling around the collar of his pristine white shirt and without thinking she said, ‘You need a haircut.’
Swivelling to face her, he shot her an amused grin. ‘Are you nagging me, wife?’
The heat in her cheeks increased. ‘No!’ She cleared her throat, distracted by the sudden lump she found there. ‘I don’t know why I said that. I just noticed, that’s all.’
Turning back to her croissant again, she tried to ignore his rueful chuckle and the clinking and clanking noises as he made his breakfast. Grace and economy of movement had never been his more dominant traits.
He sat down opposite her, bringing with him his fresh, clean scent, and her stomach did a little dance.
Trying to smooth out some of the tangles in her hair, she gave him a sheepish smile.
Not that she should worry about what Jack thought of her looking such a mess. He’d always liked seeing her in disarray and had often commented on how sexy he found it after they’d made love in the good old days.
The rogue memory of it only made her face flame even hotter.
‘How come you’re not in the office already?’ she asked, concentrating on brushing her fingers together to knock off the remaining flaky crumbs so she didn’t have to look him in the eye.
‘I have a meeting in Chelsea at nine-thirty so I’m having a slow start to the morning for once.’ He shifted in his chair so he could pick up his mug of tea and take a swig from it, peering at her from over the top of the rim.
‘And I have a favour to ask of you,’ he said, once he’d had a good swallow of tea.
She looked at him in surprise. ‘A favour?’
‘Yes.’
‘What is it?’
He shifted in his chair again, only this time looking a little discomfited.
‘We’ve been invited to a party tonight, by a business acquaintance of mine. I could do with turning up and doing some schmoozing. The guy might be interested in having me buy out his company and I wanted to work on him in a more relaxed environment.’
‘Okay,’ she said slowly, her pulse picking up at the thought of spending the evening at his side. ‘This is tonight, did you say?’
‘Yes. It’s in a house a couple of streets away.’
‘And you want me to go with you as your wife?’ Saying the words made her ache a little inside.
‘You’ve got it in one.’ He flashed her a grin, which she struggled to return.
Splaying his hands on the table, he looked her directly in the eye now. ‘Look, I know it’s probably the last thing you feel like doing, what with our lives and relationship being so complicated at the moment, but I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t really important.’
She glanced down at the table where his hands still lay spread on the solid oak top, her eyes snagging on the second finger of his left hand as she noticed something glinting there.
He was wearing his wedding ring.
Her blood began to pound through her veins. Even though she knew it was all for show, the sight of the gold ring that she’d touched with such wonder and awe after she’d slid it onto his finger at their simple wedding ceremony, back there on his finger, made her body buzz with elation.
‘Yes, okay, I’ll go,’ she blurted, buoyed by the fact that he’d asked for her help. She would happily do whatever it took to make things easier between them. She owed him that. And she’d missed him while he’d been away and liked the idea of spending time with him this evening.
His look of gratified surprise made her think he’d been expecting her to refuse.
‘Thank you, Emma, I really appreciate it.’
‘You’re welcome.’
His full mouth widened into a smile, the lines at the corners of his eyes deepening, reviving the look of boyish charm that had swept her off her feet all those years ago, stealing her breath away.
She loved his face, especially when he let down that façade of cool that he wore for the rest of the world. It had taken a long time for him to trust her enough to let her see the real him, but when he had it had blown her away.
Was this the Jack she used to know finally peering out at her?
They stared at each other for another long, painful moment, where her traitorous brain decided to give her a Technicolor recap of the most blissful moments from their past, until she finally managed to tear her gaze away from his and stand up.
‘What time do we need to get there?’ she asked, making a big show of pushing her chair neatly under the table so she didn’t have to look at him again in case her apprehension was written all over her face. She needed to remember that this was just a business arrangement to him, not a date.
‘We’ll leave here at eight-thirty. It’s a formal do, so if you have a little black dress or something it would be great if you could wear it.’
His voice sounded strained now and she wondered wistfully whether she’d somehow infected him with her own feelings of poignant nostalgia.
‘No problem,’ she said, turning and walking away from him before she blurted out something she might regret later.
* * *
The party was in full swing when they arrived and Emma was surprised, but delighted, when Jack kept hold of her arm after helping her climb the smooth slate steps up to the house in her sky-high heels. He’d been very complimentary about how she looked this evening, and she’d had to forcefully remind herself that his noticing how she looked probably didn’t mean the same thing to him as it did to her.
After greeting their hosts, they walked into the living room to mingle with the rest of the partygoers and he turned to give her a reassuring smile as she tightened her grip on him, feeling a little overawed at being a guest at a party like this again.
‘Just relax, it’s a friendly crowd,’ he told her.
But unfortunately he couldn’t have been more wrong.
‘Oh, no!’ she whispered, coming to a halt in the middle of the room as a horrible thump of recognition hit her in the chest at the sight of a group of people standing next to the large picture window.
Angry
