sense of the word,’ he said.
Eliza sipped slowly from the flute of champagne. Wine was somewhat of a hobby for her, and she knew this particular vintage was the most expensive on the planet, its cost per bubble astronomical. She had consulted with Gemma on the wedding wine list. But she was too entranced with Jake to be really aware of what she was drinking. It might have been lemon soda for all the attention she paid it.
He took the glass from her hand and placed it on an antique table nearby. Then he slid her around so she faced him. He was tall—six foot four, she guessed—and she was glad she was wearing stratospheric heels. She didn’t like to feel at a disadvantage with a man—even this man.
‘I’ve waited all day for us to be alone,’ he said.
‘Me too,’ she said, forcing the tremor out of her voice.
How alone? She had a luxurious guest apartment in the castle all to herself, where they could truly be by themselves. No doubt Jake had one the same.
He looked into her face for a long moment, so close she could feel his breath stir her hair. His eyes seemed to go a deeper shade of green. He was going to kiss her. She found her lips parting in anticipation of his touch as she swayed towards him. There was nothing she wanted more at this moment than to be kissed by Jake Marlowe.
Yet she hesitated. Whether she called it the elephant in the room, or the poisoned apple waiting to be offered as in the fairytale, there was something they had not talked about all day in the rare moments when they had been alone. Something that had to be said.
With a huge effort of will she stepped back, folded her arms in front of her chest, took a deep breath. ‘Jake, has anything changed since we last spoke at Tristan’s party in Sydney? Is your divorce through?’
He didn’t immediately reply, and her heart sank to the level of her sparkling shoes. ‘Yes, to your first question. Divorce proceedings are well under way. But to answer your second question: it’s not final yet. I’m still waiting on the decree nisi, let alone the decree absolute.’
‘Oh.’ It was all she could manage as disappointment speared through her. ‘I thought—’
‘You thought I’d be free by now?’ he said gruffly.
She chewed her lip and nodded. There was so much neither of them dared say. Undercurrents pulled them in the direction of possibilities best left unspoken. Such as what might happen between them if he wasn’t still legally married...
It was his turn to frown. ‘So did I. But it didn’t work out like that. The legalities... The property settlements...’
‘Of course,’ she said.
So when will you be free? She swallowed the words before she could give impatient voice to them.
He set his jaw. ‘I’m frustrated about it, but it’s complex.’
Millions of dollars and a life together to be dismantled. Eliza knew all about the legal logistics of that, but on a much smaller scale. There were joint assets to be divided. Then there were emotions, all twisted and tangled throughout a marriage of any duration, that had to be untangled—and sometimes torn. Wounds. Scars. All intensely personal. She didn’t feel she could ask him any more.
During their first meeting Jake had told her his wife of seven years wanted a divorce but he didn’t. At their second meeting he’d said the divorce was underway. Eliza had sensed he was ambivalent about it, so had declined his suggestion that they keep in touch. Her attraction to him was too strong for her ever to pretend she could be ‘just friends’ with him. She’d want every chance to act on that attraction.
But she would not date a married man. She wouldn’t kiss a married man. Even when he was nearly divorced. Even when he was Jake Marlowe. No way did she want to be caught up in any media speculation about being ‘the other woman’ in his divorce. And then there was the fact that her ex had cheated on her towards the end of their marriage. She didn’t know Jake’s wife. But she wouldn’t want to cause her the same kind of pain.
Suffocating with disappointment, Eliza stepped back from him. She didn’t have expectations of any kind of relationship with him—just wanted a chance to explore the surprising connection between them. Starting with a kiss. Then...? Who knew?
She cleared her throat. ‘I wish—’ she started to say.
But then an alarm started beeping, shrill and intrusive. Startled, she jumped.
Jake glanced down at his watch, swore under his breath. ‘Midnight,’ he said. ‘I usually call Australia now, for a business catch-up.’ He switched off the alarm. ‘But not tonight.’
It seemed suddenly very quiet on the terrace, with only faint strains of music coming from the ballroom, distant laughter from a couple at the other end of the terrace. Eliza was aware of her own breathing and the frantic pounding of her heart.
‘No. Make your call. It’s late. I have to go.’
She doubted he’d guessed the intensity of her disappointment, how much she’d had pinned on this meeting—and she didn’t want him to see it on her face. She turned, picked up her long, full skirts and prepared to run.
Then Jake took hold of her arm and pulled her back to face him. ‘Don’t go, Eliza. Please.’
* * *
Jake watched as Eliza struggled to contain her disappointment. She seemed to pride herself on having a poker face. But her feelings were only too apparent to him. And her disappointment had nothing on his.
‘But I have to go,’ she said as she tried to pull away from him. ‘You’re still married. We can’t—’
‘Act on the attraction that’s been there since the get go?’
Mutely, she nodded.
Their first meeting had been electric—an instant something between them. For him it had been a revelation. A possibility of something new and exciting beyond the dead marriage he had been struggling to revive. Eliza had been so beautiful, so smart, so interesting—yet so unattainable. The second time they’d met he’d realised the attraction was mutual. And tonight he’d sensed in her the same longing for more that he felt.
But it was still not their time to explore it. She’d made it very clear the last time they’d met that she could not be friends with a married man—and certainly not more than friends. He’d respected her stance. As a wealthy man he’d met more than a few women with dollar signs flashing in their eyes who had held no regard for a man’s wedding vows—or indeed their own.
When Tristan had asked him to be best man at his wedding he’d said yes straight away. The bonus had been a chance to see Eliza again. In her modest lavender dress she’d been the loveliest of the bridesmaids, eclipsing—at least in his admittedly biased eyes—even the bride. Tonight, in a formal gown that showed off her tiny waist and feminine curves, she rivalled any of the royalty in the ballroom.
‘This is not what I’d hoped for this evening,’ he said.
‘Me neither.’ Her voice was barely louder than a whisper as she looked up to him.
He caught his breath at how beautiful she was. Her eyes were a brilliant
