Under the Boss’s Mistletoe

He couldn’t have said anything better to break the tension, thought Cassie gratefully. ‘No,’ she told him, rolling her eyes. ‘Not “very nice”. You’re in love with me, remember? Tell me I look beautiful or gorgeous or sexy-anything but very nice!’

‘Maybe I won’t say anything at all,’ said Jake. ‘Maybe I’ll just do this instead.’ And, putting his hands to her waist, he drew her to him and kissed her.

His lips were warm and persuasive, and wickedly exciting. Afterwards, Cassie thought that she should have resisted somehow, but at the time it felt so utterly natural that she melted into him without even a token protest. Her hands spread over his broad chest, and she parted her lips with a tiny murmur low in her throat.

It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was a very thorough one, and Cassie’s knees were weak when Jake let her go.

‘Sometimes actions speak louder than words,’ he said.

From somewhere, Cassie produced a smile. It felt a little unsteady, but at least it was a smile. At least she could pretend that her heart wasn’t thudding, that her bones hadn’t dissolved, and that her arms weren’t aching to cling to him. That she didn’t desperately, desperately want him to kiss her again.

‘That’s better,’ she said, astonished at how steady her voice sounded. ‘See how convincing you can be when you try?’

‘Let’s hope we can convince everyone else too,’ said Jake. ‘Ready?’

Of course she wasn’t ready! How could he kiss her like that and then expect her to calmly swan into a party and act like a chief executive’s fiancee-whatever one of those was like?

But she had agreed, and to make some feeble excuse now would just make it look as if she had been thrown into confusion by a meaningless kiss. Even if she had, Cassie didn’t want Jake to know it.

She drew a deep breath. ‘Ready,’ she said.

Jake kept a hand at the small of her back as they made their way through the crowd. Cassie was intensely aware of it, and even when he dropped his arm she could feel its warmth like a tingling imprint on her skin burnt through the fabric of her dress.

She was nervous at first, but Jake seemed to know a lot of people there, and everyone was very friendly. There was quite a bit of interest when he introduced her as his fiancee, and Cassie wondered how many of them had known Natasha. It soon became clear, in fact, that they should have prepared their story more carefully.

‘So, where did you pop up from, Cassie?’ someone asked, and Jake put an arm around her waist.

‘We knew each other years ago,’ he said. ‘We met up again recently.’

‘Oh, so you’ve found your first love again? How sweet!’

‘Well, not really,’ said Jake, just as Cassie said,

‘Yes. Jake was the first boy who ever kissed me.’

There was a tiny silence. ‘Jake wasn’t in love with me.’ Cassie rose to the occasion magnificently. ‘But I had a thing about him for years. Didn’t I?’ she said to Jake, but he was looking so baffled that she swept on, feeling rather like Michelle at the wedding fair. ‘Anyway, the moment we met up again, it just clicked.’

She chattered on, inventing an entire love-affair while Jake watched her distractedly. He had been completely thrown by that kiss out there in the lobby. What had possessed him to kiss her like that? But she had looked so warm and enticing, he couldn’t help himself. Now he could still taste the soft lips that had parted in surprise, still feel her body melting into his.

As the party wore on, Jake was achingly aware of Cassie by his side, a vibrant, glowing figure chatting animatedly to whoever they met. She was behaving beautifully-much better than him, anyway, Jake thought. Look at her, showing off her ring, turning a laughing face to his, leaning into him as if it was the most natural thing in the world for her to be here with him.

It was obvious that everyone found her so charming that Jake began to feel almost resentful. He didn’t want Cassie to be able to play her role so well. He wanted her to be as disconcerted by him as he was by her.

She seemed to be managing perfectly well on her own, so he joined a neighbouring group in the hope that a little distance would help. But it was almost impossible to concentrate on chit-chat when he could feel Cassie somewhere behind him, not touching him, not talking to him, not even looking at him, but her presence as immediate as if she had laid a hand against his bare skin.

Jake finished his champagne in a gulp and looked around for a fresh glass, only to find himself face to face with the two people he least wanted to see. They saw him at the same time. Natasha looked appalled, Rupert predictably amused.

‘Well, well, look who’s here,’ said Rupert. ‘We’d no idea you’d be here too, Jake-but it’s inevitable we had to meet some time, I suppose. Much best to get the first meeting over in civilised surroundings, I can’t help feeling. After all, we’re a little old for pistols at dawn, don’t you think?’

Jake ignored that. ‘Rupert,’ he acknowledged him curtly. ‘And Natasha.’ It was odd, he thought, how much of a stranger she seemed already. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m fine,’ she said, but Jake didn’t think that she was looking her best. She was still beautiful, of course, but after Cassie she seemed a bit muted. She had none of Cassie’s vitality, none of her warmth. It was hard to remember now how bitter he had felt at losing her.

Rupert put his arm around her. ‘We’ve just been talking about getting married, haven’t we, darling?’ The question was for Natasha, but the words were aimed squarely at Jake. Rupert’s smile was slyly triumphant. ‘It’s an awkward situation, knowing how much Natasha meant to you, but we hope you’ll be pleased for us.’

‘Or are you just hoping that I’ll end the trust?’ Jake asked.

‘I believe marriage to a sensible woman was the condition-and Natasha is certainly that, aren’t you, sweetheart?’

‘Settling down was also a condition,’ said Jake. ‘When you’ve been married a year or so, I’ll consider it.’

There was an unpleasant silence. Jake and Rupert eyed each other with acute dislike, and Jake found himself longing for Cassie. He could hardly go and drag her away from the conversation she was having just because he was confronting Rupert and Natasha on his own.

But suddenly there she was anyway, almost as if she’d sensed that he needed her, touching his rigid back, tucking her hand into his arm. Jake felt something unlock inside his chest.

Cassie studied Natasha. She was very lovely, with immaculate, silvery-blonde hair, green eyes, flawless skin, and intimidatingly well-groomed. From her perfect eyebrows to the tips of her beautifully manicured nails, Natasha was a model of elegance and restraint. She was wearing a simple top and silk trousers, but the combination of subdued neutrals and striking jewellery was wonderful.

‘Classy’ was the only word Cassie could think of to describe her, and her heart sank. Next to Natasha, she felt like a garish lump.

Why hadn’t she thought to wear black or elegant neutral colours like every other woman here? Cassie wondered miserably. She should have known this would be a sophisticated party. She looked ludicrously out of place in her vivid, purple dress and pink shoes. No wonder Jake had been distracted since they’d come in. He must be horribly embarrassed by her. He was used to being with Natasha, who fitted into this world in a way she never could.

How awful for Jake, to come face to face with the woman he loved on the arm of a man he hated, and to realise just what he had lost. Cassie had sensed his sudden tension somehow, and had turned to see him with Rupert and a woman she had known instantly was Natasha. His shoulders were set rigidly, and his back when she had touched it to let him know that she was there had been as stiff and as unyielding as a plank.

Well, she might not be Natasha, but she was here, and she could help him through this awkward meeting if nothing else.

Forcing a smile, Cassie turned her attention to Rupert. Even if she hadn’t seen his photo in the papers over the years, she would have recognised him. He was still astonishingly good-looking, with golden hair, chiselled features and mesmerising blue eyes. It was only when you looked a little closer that you could see the lines of dissipation around his eyes.

And the faint bump in his nose where it had been broken.

Cassie hoped Jake could see it, too.

‘Hello, Rupert,’ she said pleasantly.

Rupert looked at her, arrested. ‘Do we know each other?’

‘We used to,’ said Cassie. ‘Portrevick?’ she prompted him. ‘Cassie Grey? My father was Sir Ian’s estate manager.’