of their natural lives? In the end someone always ended up abandoning the other, along with any kids unlucky enough to be caught up in it.
Then Emma excused herself to go to the ladies’ room and Julie claimed Bernice’s attention with wedding talk. He breathed a sigh of relief that for now he wasn’t included in the conversation.
A moment later he saw Emma on her way back and watched, admiring her svelte figure and the way her hips undulated as she walked. Nice. Last night’s fantasy flashed back and a punch of lust ricocheted through his body. She’d been fire and ice yesterday at the club, and he couldn’t help wondering how it might translate to the bedroom.
He saw her come to an abrupt halt as a newly arrived couple cut across her path. His eyes narrowed. Wasn’t that …? Yep. Wayne whoever-he-was. Jake watched on with interest as Wayne’s dinner partner hugged his arm a moment then walked to the ladies’, leaving Emma and Surfer Boy facing each other.
More like facing off, Jake thought, studying their body language. Even from a distance he could see that Emma’s eyes had widened, that her face had gone pale and that Surfer Boy was trying to talk himself out of a sticky situation fast. Emma spoke through tight lips and shook her head. Then, turning abruptly, she headed straight for the balcony.
Uh-oh, he thought, trouble in paradise?
Emma’s whole body burned with embarrassment as she hurried for the nearest sanctuary. She pushed blindly through the glass doors and took in a deep gulp of the cooler air.
He’d had the nerve to introduce the girl. His fiancée. Rani—a dusky beauty, heavy on the gold jewellery—had flashed a brand-new sparkle on the third finger of her left hand and said they’d been seeing each other for over a year.
While Emma and Wayne had been seeing each other. Sleeping with each other.
The bastard.
He’d broken it off with Emma only a month ago. Said it wasn’t working for him. No mention then of a fiancée. Obviously this Rani girl had what it took to keep a man interested.
The worst part was that Emma had let her guard down with him. She’d done what she’d sworn she’d never do—she’d fallen for him big time.
Shielded by palm fronds, she leaned over the railing and stared at the traffic below. But she wasn’t seeing it—she was too busy trying to patch up the barely healed scars and a bunch of black emotions, like her own stupid gullibility. She’d been used. Deceived. Lied to—
‘Emma.’
She jumped at the sound of Jake’s voice behind her. Embarrassment fired up again. He must have seen the exchange. No point pretending it hadn’t happened. ‘Hi.’ She ran a palm frond through her stiff fingers. ‘I was just talking to an ex.’
‘A recent ex, by the look of things.’ Warm hands cupped her shoulders and turned her towards him. He lifted her chin with a finger, and his eyes told her he knew a lot more than she wanted him to. ‘Should I be sorry?’
She shook her head. ‘I’m not very good company right now.’ Shrugging off the intimacy of his touch, she looked down at the street again, at the neon signs that lit the restaurants and cafés.
‘You didn’t answer the question, Em,’ he said softly. ‘But, if you ask me, I’d say he’s not worth being sorry over.’
‘Damn right, he’s not. That was his fiancée. According to her, they’ve been together over a year.’
‘Hmm. I see.’
‘Unfortunately for me, I didn’t.’ She stared at the street. ‘We were both busy with work and after-hours commitments, but we always spent Friday nights together.’ Frowning, she murmured, ‘I wonder how he explained that to her?’
‘Friday nights?’ There was a beat of silence, then he asked, ‘You had, like, a regular slot for him, then?’
She watched a couple strolling arm in arm below them and felt an acute pang of loss. ‘We had an understanding.’
‘He understood that you scheduled him into your working life like some sort of beauty session?’
Her skin prickled. Wayne had actually been the one doing the scheduling, and Emma had been so head over heels, so desperate to be with him, she’d gone along with whatever he’d asked. ‘He had a busy schedule too.’ Obviously. ‘But Friday night was ours. And he was cheating all along.’
Why the hell was she telling Jake this? Of all people. She turned to him, dragged up a half-smile from somewhere. ‘I’m fine. I was over it weeks ago.’
‘That’s the way.’ He smiled, all easy sympathy, and gave her hand a quick pat. ‘The trick is not to take these things too seriously.’
These things? Being in love was just one of these things? ‘And you’d be the expert at that particular trick, wouldn’t you?’ She and Wayne had had an understanding. He’d betrayed her and that was serious.
To her surprise, he spoke sharply. ‘Contrary to what you may think, I don’t cheat.’
‘Because you’re not with a woman long enough.’ As if she would know his modus operandi these days … she wasn’t exactly a social butterfly. She looked up and met Jake’s eyes—dark, intense, like Turkish coffee. ‘Sorry.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s just that you’re here, you’re male, and right now I want to punch something. Or someone.’ Her gaze flicked down to the street. ‘Nothing personal.’
He shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘Emma, yesterday—’
‘You live your way, I live mine.’ She waved him off. ‘We’re not teenagers any more.’
But was she living her life her way? she wondered as she paced past the balcony’s foliage and back. Or was she living for other people?
After her father had died, leaving them virtually penniless, Emma had spent years working menial jobs after school so that they wouldn’t have to sell her maternal grandmother’s home, and then had supported herself through her studies. Her mother had been diagnosed with clinical depression soon after their father’s death, and Stella had taken on the role of main carer, but Emma had been the one with the ultimate financial responsibility.
She didn’t mind giving up her time or her money, but her mother was recovered now and Emma’s sacrifices went unacknowledged and unappreciated.
And now she’d discovered the man she’d loved had been cheating on her for God knew how long, and in Jake’s opinion it was because she was so focused on her work.
But Jake knew nothing about it, and she intended for it to stay that way. It did not excuse Wayne. Even the fact that the girl was more exotic than she was, more voluptuous … more everything … was no excuse. She was tempted to run downstairs and tell him what she thought of him, let Rani in on his dirty little secret—except she never wanted to see him again and she’d only make herself look like a fool. ‘If nothing else, I expect honesty in a relationship.’
‘You call a regular Friday night bonk a relationship?’ he said.
She met his stare with
