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0373134266 (R) Page 13

by MELANIE MILBURNE


  Like she was acting a role.

  She was pretending to be engaged to Jake when all she wanted was to be engaged to him for real. How had she not realised it until now? Or had she been shying away from it because it was a truth she hadn’t wanted to face?

  She was in love with Jake.

  Hadn’t she always been in love with him? As a child she had looked up to him as a fun older brother. He had been the playful twin, the one she could have a laugh with. Then when her female hormones had switched on she had wanted him as a woman wanted a man. But she hadn’t been a woman back then—she had been a child. He had respected that and kept his distance. Wasn’t that another reason why she loved him? He hadn’t exploited her youthful innocence. Yes, he hadn’t handled her crush with the greatest sensitivity, but at least he hadn’t taken advantage of her.

  Jaz was done with acting. Done with pretending. How could she stretch this out another week or two? Jake wasn’t in love with her. Didn’t their conversation over breakfast confirm it? He was happy with the way his life was a single man. He would go back to that life as soon as their ‘engagement’ ended.

  Jake said she could keep the ring but why would she do that? It was little more than a consolation prize. A parting gift. Every time she looked at it she would be reminded of what she wanted and couldn’t have. It might be enormous fun being with Jake. It might be wonderful to be his lover and feel the thrill of his desire and hers for him.

  But what was she doing?

  She was living a lie. That was what she was doing. Fooling people that she was in a real relationship with real hopes and dreams for the future. What future? Two weeks of fantastic, mind-blowing sex and then what? Jake would pull the plug on their relationship just like her three exes had done. She would be abandoned. Rejected. Left hanging. Alone.

  Not this time. Not again.

  This time she would take control. Do the right thing by herself and set the boundaries. Two weeks more of this and she would want it to be for ever. Good grief! She wanted it to be for ever now. That was how dangerous their fling had become. One night of amazing sex and she was posting the wedding invitations.

  It was ridiculous.

  She was ridiculous.

  Jake wasn’t a ‘for ever’ type of guy. He wanted her but only for as long as it took to burn out their mutual attraction. How long would it take? He had set the limit at two weeks. Most of his relationships didn’t last two days. Why should she think she was so special? Sure they knew each other. They had a history of sorts. They would always be in each other’s lives in some way or another.

  It would be best to end it now.

  On her terms.

  Before things got crazy. Crazier...because what was crazier than falling in love with a man just because you couldn’t have him? That was what she had done. It was pathological. She was in love with a man who didn’t—couldn’t—love her.

  It was time to rewrite the script of her life. No longer would she fall for the wrong men. No longer would she settle for second best...even though there was no way she would ever describe Jake as second best. He was first best. The best. The most fabulous man she had ever known—but he wasn’t hers.

  He wasn’t anyone’s.

  It would break her heart to end their affair. Weird to think she’d thought her heart had been broken by her three failed engagements; none of them, even all of them put together, had made her feel anywhere near as sad as ending her fling with Jake.

  It wasn’t just the sex. It was the way he made her feel as a person. He valued her. He understood her. He knew her doubts and insecurities. He had taught her to put the dark shadow of the past behind her. He protected her. He made her feel safe. He had helped her heal. His touch, his kisses, his glorious love-making, had made her fully embrace her femininity.

  He had given her the gift of self-acceptance, but with that gift had come realisation. The realisation she could no longer pretend to be something she was not. She had to stop hiding behind social norms in order to feel accepted. If she never found love with a man who loved her equally, unreservedly and for ever, then she would be better off alone. Settling for anything less was settling for second best. It was compromising and self-limiting and would only bring further heartbreak in the end.

  But it would be hard to be around Jake as just a friend. She would go back to being the gardener’s daughter—the little ring-in who didn’t really belong in the big house.

  The girl who didn’t belong to anyone.

  * * *

  Jake watched from the front row beside Jaz as her design came down the catwalk. She had only just got to her seat in time to see her moment in the spotlight. The dress was amazing. He found his mind picturing her wearing it. It had a hand-sewn beaded bodice and a frothy tulle skirt that was just like a princess’s dress. The veil was set back from the model’s head and flowed out behind her like a floating cloud.

  If anyone had told him a week ago he’d be sitting at a wedding expo oohing and aahing at wedding gowns he would have said they were nuts. The atmosphere was electric. The ballroom was abuzz with expectation. The music was upbeat and stirring, hardly bridal or churchy at all. The applause was thunderous when Jaz’s design was announced and continued even after the model had left the catwalk. He clapped as loudly as anyone, probably louder. ‘Told you they’d love your work,’ he said. ‘You’ll have orders coming out of your ears after this.’

  She looked at him with a tremulous smile. ‘You think?’

  She still doubted herself. Amazing, he thought. What would it take for her to believe she was as good if not better than any of the other designers here? He tapped her on the end of her retroussé nose. ‘Sure of it.’

  Jake took her hand while the press did their interviews after the show. He was getting quite used to the role of devoted fiancé. Who said he couldn’t act? Maybe some of that Ravensdale talent hadn’t skipped a generation after all. Or maybe he was getting used to being part of a couple. There was certainly something to be said about knowing who he was going to sleep with that night—earlier, if he could wangle it. Instead of wondering how the sex would be, he knew for certain it would be fantastic. He had never had a more satisfying lover.

  Jaz’s body was a constant turn-on as it brushed against his as the crowd jostled them. He drew her closer as a photographer zoomed in on them. Her cheek was against his; the fresh, flowery scent of her made his sinuses tingle. She turned her head and he swooped down and stole a kiss from her soft-as-a-pillow mouth, wishing he could get her alone right here and now.

  But instead of continuing the kiss she eased back, giving him a distracted-looking smile. Her hands went back to her lap where she was gripping the programme as if she had plans to shred it.

  ‘You okay?’ Jake said.

  Her gaze was trained on the next set of models strutting their stuff. ‘We need to talk,’ she said. ‘But not here.’

  Here it comes. The talk. The talk where she would say she wanted the whole shebang: the promises of for ever, the kids, the dog and the house. The things he didn’t want. Had never wanted. Would never want. Why had he thought she would be any different? He had broken his own rules for what? For a fling that should never have started in the first place.

  Might as well get it over with. Once the show was over, he took her by the elbow and led her back to their suite. Their suite. How cosy that sounded. Like they were a couple. But they weren’t a couple. A couple of idiots, if anything. They had no right to be messing around. He had no right. She was a part of his family. By getting involved with her he had jeopardised every single relationship she had with his family. Would everyone treat her differently now they knew she had been his lover? Would they look at her differently? Would he be harangued for the next decade for not doing the right thing by her and leaving her alone?

  ‘I know what you’re going to say,’ Jake said even before he had closed the door of the suite.

  She pressed her lips together for a moment. Turned and put the prog
ramme and her bag on the bed, then turned back to him and handed him her engagement ring. ‘I think it’s best if we end things now,’ she said. ‘Before we head back to London.’

  Jake stared at the ring and then at her. She wanted to end it? Now? Before the two weeks were up? That wasn’t how ‘the talk’ usually went. Didn’t she want more? Didn’t she want them to continue their affair? Wasn’t she going to cry, beg and plead with him to fall in love with her and marry her? She looked so composed, so determined, as if she had made up her mind hours ago.

  ‘But I thought you said two weeks?’

  ‘I know but I can’t do it any more, Jake,’ she said, putting the ring in the top pocket of his jacket and patting it as if for safekeeping. ‘It was fun while it lasted but I want to move on with my life.’

  ‘This seems rather...sudden.’

  She stepped back and looked up at him with those beautiful storm, sea and mountain-lake eyes. ‘Remember when we talked at breakfast?’ she said. ‘I’ve been thinking since... I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not. It’s not right for me or for you. You’re not the settling down type and it was wrong of me to shackle you to me in this stupid game of pretend. I should’ve just accepted Myles’s break-up with dignity instead of doing this crazy charade. It will hurt too many people if we let it continue. It has to stop.’

  Jake wanted it to stop. Sure he did. But not yet. Not until he was satisfied his attraction to her had burned itself out. It was nowhere near burning out. It had only just started. They’d been lovers two days. Two freaking days! That wasn’t long enough. He was only just starting to understand her. To know her. How could she want to end it? They were good together. Brilliant. The best. Why end it when they could have two more weeks, maybe even longer, of fantastic sex?

  But how much longer?

  The thought stood up from a sofa in the back of his mind where it had been lounging and stretched. Started walking toward his conscience...

  Jake knew she was right. They had to end it some time. It was just he was usually the one to end flings. He was the one in the control seat. It felt a little weird to be on the receiving end of rejection. ‘What about Emma Madden?’ he said. ‘Aren’t you worried she might make a comeback when she hears we’ve broken up?’

  ‘I think Emma is sensible enough to know you’re not the right person for her. It will hurt her more if we tell even more lies.’

  ‘What about Bruce Parnell?’ God, how pathetic was he getting? Using his clients as a lever to get her to rethink her decision?

  ‘Tell him the truth,’ she said. ‘That you’re not in love with me and have no intention of marrying me or anyone.’

  The truth always hurt, or so people said. But it didn’t look like it hurt Jaz. She didn’t seem to be the least bit worried he wasn’t in love with her. She hadn’t even asked him to declare his feelings, which was just as well, because they were stuffed under the cushions on that sofa in his mind and he wasn’t going looking for them any time soon.

  ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘Best to end it now before my parents start sending out invitations.’

  She bit her lip for a moment. ‘Will you tell them or will I?’

  ‘I’ll tell them I pulled the plug,’ Jake said. ‘That’s what they’ll think in any case.’

  Her forehead puckered in a frown. ‘But I don’t want them to be angry with you or anything. I can say I got cold feet.’

  ‘Leave it to me. Do you still want me to have a look over your business?’

  ‘You wouldn’t mind?’

  ‘Why would I?’ he said with a smile that was harder work than it had any right to be. ‘We’re friends, aren’t we?’

  Her smile was a little on the wobbly side but he could see relief in every nuance of her expression. ‘Yes. Of course we are.’

  It was on the tip of his tongue to ask for one more night but before he could get the words out she had turned and started packing her things. He watched her fold her clothes and pack them neatly into her bag. Every trace of her was being removed from the suite.

  ‘I’m getting a lift back to London with one of the photographers,’ she said once she was done. ‘I thought it would be easier all round.’

  ‘Is the photographer male?’ The question jumped out before Jake could stop it and it had the big, green-eyed monster written all over it.

  His question dangled in the silence for a long beat.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘But I’ve known him for years.’

  Jaz had known him for years and look what had happened, Jake thought with a sickening churning in his gut.

  She stepped up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. ‘Goodbye, Jake. See you at Julius’s wedding.’

  Wedding.

  Jake clenched his jaw as the door closed on her exit. That word should be damned well banned.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  JAZ WAS WORKING on Miranda’s dress a few days later when the bell on the back of her shop door tinkled. She looked up and saw Emma Madden coming in, dressed in her school uniform. ‘Hi, Emma,’ she said, smiling as she put down the bodice she was sewing freshwater pearls on. ‘How lovely to see you. How are you?’

  Emma savaged her bottom lip with her teeth. ‘Is it because of me?’

  Jaz frowned. ‘Is what because of you?’

  ‘Your break-up with Jake,’ she said. ‘It’s because of me, isn’t it? I made such a stupid nuisance of myself and now you’ve broken up and it’s all my fault.’

  Jaz came out from behind the work counter and took the young girl’s hands in hers. ‘Nothing’s your fault, sweetie. Jake and I decided we weren’t ready to settle down. We’ve gone back to being friends.’

  Emma’s big, soulful eyes were misty. ‘But you’re so perfect for each other. I can’t bear the thought of him having anyone else. You bring out the best in him. My stepdad says so too.’

  Jaz gave Emma’s hands a little squeeze before she released them. ‘It’s sweet of you to say so but some things are not meant to be.’

  ‘But aren’t you...devastated?’ Emma asked, scrunching up her face in a frown.

  Jaz didn’t want to distress the girl unnecessarily. No point telling Emma she cried every night when she got into her cold bed. On. Her. Own. No point saying how she couldn’t get into a lift without her insides quivering in erotic memory. No point saying how every time she ate a piece of toast or drank orange juice she thought of Jake helping her through her fashion show nerves at the expo. ‘I’m fine about it,’ she said. ‘Really. It’s for the best.’

  Emma sighed and then started looking at the dresses on display. She touched one reverently. ‘Did you really make this from scratch?’

  ‘Yup,’ Jaz said. ‘What do you think? Not too OTT?’

  ‘No, it’s beautiful,’ Emma said. ‘I would love to be able to design stuff like this.’

  ‘Have you ever done any sewing?’

  ‘I did some cross-stitch at school but I’d love to be able to make my own clothes,’ Emma said. ‘I sometimes get ideas for stuff... Does that happen to you?’

  ‘All the time,’ Jaz said. ‘See that dress over there with the hoop skirt? I got the idea from the garden at Ravensdene. There’s this gorgeous old weeping birch down there that looks exactly like a ball gown.’

  Emma traced the leaf-like pattern of the lace. ‘Wow... You’re amazing. So talented. So smart and beautiful. So everything.’

  So single, Jaz thought with a sharp pang. ‘Hey, do you fancy a part-time job after school or at weekends? I could do with a little help and I can give you some tips on pattern-making and stuff.’

  Emma’s face brightened as if someone had turned a bright light on inside her. ‘Do you mean it? Really?’

  ‘Sure,’ Jaz said. ‘Who wants to work for a fast-food chain when you can work for one of London’s up-and-coming bridal designers?’

  Take that, Imposter Syndrome.

  Three weeks later...

  ‘Jake, can I get you another beer?’ Flynn Carlyon asked on his way to
the bar at Julius’s stag night. ‘Hey, you haven’t finished that one—you’ve barely taken a mouthful. You not feeling well or something?’

  Jake forced a quick smile. ‘No, I’m good.’

  He wasn’t good. He was sick. Not physically but emotionally. He hadn’t eaten a proper meal in days. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a decent sleep. Well, he could, but remembering the last time he’d made love with Jaz caused him even more emotional distress.

  Yes, emotional distress.

  The dreaded E-word—the word he’d been trying to escape from for the last few weeks. Maybe he’d been trying to escape it for the last seven years. He couldn’t stop thinking about Jaz. He couldn’t get the taste of her out of his mouth. He couldn’t get the feel of her out of his body. It had been nothing short of torture to drop in the business plan for her last week and not touch her. She had seemed a little distracted, but when she told him she’d employed Emma Madden to help in the shop after school he’d put it down to that—Jaz was worried he would have a problem with it. He didn’t. He thought it was a stroke of genius, actually. He wished he’d thought of it himself.

  Julius came over with a basket of crisps. ‘He’s off his food, his drink and his game,’ he said to Flynn. ‘He hasn’t looked twice at any of the waitresses, even the blonde one with the big boobs.’

  Flynn grinned. ‘No kidding?’

  ‘I reckon it’s because he’s in love with Jaz,’ Julius said. ‘But he’s too stubborn to admit it.’

  Jake glowered at his twin. ‘Just because you’re getting married tomorrow doesn’t mean everyone else wants to do the same.’

  ‘Mum’s still not speaking to him,’ Julius said to Flynn. ‘She quite fancied having Jaz as a daughter-in-law.’

  ‘Pity she isn’t so keen on having Kat Winwood as a daughter,’ Flynn said wryly.

  ‘So, how’s all that going with you and Kat?’ Jake said, desperate for a subject change. ‘You convinced her to come to Dad’s Sixty Years in Showbiz party yet?’

 

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