Kate Hewitt - Highly Unsuitable

She’d looked up at him from underneath her lashes, her eyes dancing with amusement. ‘Honestly, Jason, you look positively dire! I’m not that bad, I assure you.’

From somewhere he’d summoned a smile. ‘And whatever I have you do—I assume you want payment for it?’

She’d looked momentarily thrown, her expression unguarded and vulnerable, and with a stab of self-loathing he’d realised again just how young and inexperienced—in every way—she was. Then she’d laughed, a rich, throaty gurgle that had made Jason shove his hands even deeper into his pockets, a scowl marking his face. Emily had the laugh of an experienced woman, a sexy, sultry laugh, and it did things to him. When had she started laughing like that? When had she started to really grow up?

‘Well, yes, that was the idea,’ she said, smiling with that artless honesty that exasperated and endeared her to him at the same time.

And so he’d given her the post, as she’d undoubtedly known he would, and then he’d kept his distance. He’d had no intention of involving himself with an innocent like Emily, especially considering how their families were related. And he’d succeeded … until now. Now, when he’d seen her in the party room, wearing a candy-pink business suit that was so short it nearly showed her bottom when she bent to pick up a bit of rubbish from the floor. He’d stared at her, noticing the long, tanned length of her legs, the way that ridiculously short skirt moulded over her curves.

He should have walked away before she’d seen him. God knew he’d done it before. Yet something had compelled him to come into the room, and he’d spoken. Stayed. Seeing Emily after so long had been like finally finding a drink in the desert. Her warmth and humour had reached out to him, enveloped him and made him want more. And so he’d remained, joked and flirted, and then most damaging and dangerous of all, he’d mentioned that almost-kiss they’d shared seven years ago. Jason could not fathom why he’d done that, when he’d been perfectly happy never to think about it again, much less talk about it.

And surely Emily felt the same way … unless she did still have some vestige of that schoolgirl crush? The thought should alarm him, but it accomplished something else entirely. He wanted to watch her eyes darken to moss and see her tongue swipe at that lush mouth once more.

Annoyance prickled through him yet again. He needed to get a grip. This was Emily. Emily. Inappropriate, unsuitable and off-limits. Full stop.

‘Helen Smith,’ Emily repeated, and Jason could tell she’d recovered her equanimity. ‘I’ll keep an eye out for her CV—’

‘My PA emailed it to you this afternoon.’

‘I see.’ She gave him a quick, curious glance from under her lashes and then turned away. ‘I’ll make a note of it.’

‘Good.’ He was determined to keep the rest of their conversation purely professional, even as his gaze rested on the falling-down chignon of her glorious golden hair, one curling tendril resting on the curve of her breast. Determinedly, Jason yanked his gaze away, his mouth settling into a grim line, yet something still compelled him to add, ‘I’ve never met her, actually. She’s a friend of a friend, and I’d like to help her out. She should be suitable for an entry level position.’ Why on earth was he explaining himself? There was absolutely no need.

‘Fine,’ Emily said briskly. ‘I’ll do what I can.’

‘Good.’ Jason matched her brisk tone and then gave one more glance around the cleaned-up room. He still had several phone calls and emails to answer, as well as a charity fund-raiser to attend. All part of the personal business Emily was so curious about … and which he had no intention of telling her.

She would, he thought with a grim twist of his mouth, find out soon enough.

Jason was looking grim again, which was a good thing, Emily decided. For a few moments there he’d seemed like someone else entirely, and the thought unsettled her. Her reaction had unsettled her even more, because when Jason had dropped his voice to that husky murmur and actually said he’d be disappointed …

Quickly, Emily pulled that train of thought to a screeching halt. Not something she needed to think about. At all. She glanced around the empty room with satisfaction, making sure her gaze was averted from Jason, and then went to turn off the lights.

She hadn’t realised how dark it had become, twilight stealing softly over the city, so that the room was pitched into sudden darkness when she flicked the switch.

‘Oops …’ She laughed a little as she stood there in the dark, conscious how a lack of light made things seem almost … intimate. She could hear the gentle sound of Jason’s breathing, and when she groped for the switch again she came into contact with Jason’s chest instead, a hard wall of muscle that tensed against the flat of her palm. She hadn’t realised he’d come so close. She jerked her hand away as a matter of instinct, even though the feel of that hard wall of muscle seemed to have imprinted itself on her palm. The last thing she wanted was Jason to think she was throwing herself at him … again.

‘Sorry,’ she muttered, yet she still didn’t move. Her brain and body both seemed to have frozen, so she’d become incapable of either thought or action. Her hand tingled. ‘I … I just need to find the light… .’ she finally managed, stammering slightly. Why did Jason always reduce her to the gauchest kind of girl?

‘It’s here.’ Jason reached past her and flicked on the switch. Emily took a hasty step back as the room was cast into unrelieved fluorescent light.

She felt a blush heat her cheeks, which made no sense because surely there was nothing to be embarrassed about. Yet she felt, strangely, as she had seven years ago, when she’d offered herself to him so innocently, only to be rejected.

And Jason was glaring at her again, just as he had then. Really, he looked quite cross. Emily felt a flicker of annoyance and the emotion relieved her. At least it was familiar. She took another step back. ‘Thanks,’ she said briskly, tucking her hair behind her ears. ‘I suppose I’ll see you around, if you’re staying in London for a bit.’

‘Most certainly.’ Jason’s face was expressionless yet his gaze was steady on hers, steady and unsettling. He really didn’t know her any more, she reminded herself. She was completely different and far more experienced now than she’d been at seventeen. A bit more experienced, anyway. And hopefully a little less scatty.

‘I’m sure you have things to do,’ she said in that same brisk, brittle voice. ‘And I must get home. Goodnight, Jason.’ And without looking back, she hurried down the hall to the safety of her office, strangely and annoyingly disconcerted, almost as much as the seventeen-year-old who’d run from the ballroom in tears.

EMILY gazed at the woman seated across from her desk, noticed how her fingers nervously pleated the rather wrinkled fabric of her cheap black skirt, a cautious smile brightening her lovely features. Helen Smith was a beautiful young woman, a few years younger than Emily, with a cloud of dark hair like a soft halo around her pale face.

‘So.’ Emily smiled encouragingly as she scanned Helen’s scanty CV. ‘You worked as a waitress up in Liverpool …’

‘And I temped for a while in an office,’ Helen offered helpfully. Her voice was soft and lilting. ‘I answered the telephones. Mr Kingsley thought I might do the same here. He said one of your receptionists was on maternity leave.’

Emily wondered—not for the first time—just what Jason’s relationship to the lovely Helen Smith could possibly be. Did she have anything to do with this mysterious personal business? ‘Yes, Sally just had a baby boy.’ Emily returned the CV to her desk; there really wasn’t much to see there. ‘So Mr Kinglsey is right,’ she said with a smile. ‘We have an opening.’