Modern Romance July 2015 Books 1-4. Maisey Yates

jewellery. They were here to gaze in curiosity at her new, glossy image. They were hoping that she had bitten off more than she could chew, because there was nothing the press liked more than to bear witness to failure...

      Inside, the Venetian photos had been blown up and mounted on the walls, so that they dominated the smaller of the Granchester’s two ballrooms. Everywhere she looked she could see herself and, once Jessica had become acclimatised to the slightly surreal sensation, she found herself glancing round in disbelief. She looked so different. But it wasn’t just the sharp new haircut or the heavier than usual make-up. It wasn’t even the dress or the diamonds which made her look so unrecognisable. It was the shining look in her eyes—as if she were nursing the most beautiful secret in the world.

      And Jessica realised with a jolt that she looked like a woman...if not actually in love, then certainly bordering on the edges of it.

      But the camera lied. She knew that.

      Pushing aside her confused thoughts, she tried to work the room as she knew she should. She spoke to a couple of women who worked on glossy magazines and was introduced to a man who wrote the diary section of an upmarket tabloid. But despite her outward air of confidence, she found it impossible to relax, especially as Loukas was on the other side of the room and had barely acknowledged her all evening.

      She didn’t dare eat anything for fear of smudging her lips and the single sip of cocktail she indulged in felt strong enough to blow her head off. This isn’t my world, she thought desperately. It never really was. Everyone else seemed to know their own place in it, but not her. The smile plastered to her lips felt forced and she was terrified her conversation sounded dull to these urban high-flyers. Because they sure as hell weren’t interested in talking about embroidery or growing vegetables.

      It was with a feeling of relief that she saw Patti and slipped into a corner to talk to the stylist, feeling relaxed for the first time all evening, when suddenly she glanced across the room to see Loukas deep in conversation with a brunette. He’d been talking to other women, of course—she’d clocked that—but this seemed more...intimate.

      The woman was wearing a sparkly dress so short that it made Jessica’s own feel as if it had been borrowed from a museum. He was leaning his head forward to listen intently and as the woman spoke her dark hair swayed like a glossy mahogany curtain. Jessica could feel herself tensing as she saw him laugh and Patti must have noticed the direction of her glance, because she turned her head and smiled.

      ‘Yeah. Stunning, isn’t she? And she’s French. Used to be a human rights lawyer before she started writing for one of the papers and now she’s one of the best-paid feature writers in the country. Life is so unfair, isn’t it?’

      Don’t ask it, Jessica urged herself. Just don’t ask it.

      She asked it.

      ‘They seem to know each other very well?’

      Patti smiled. ‘Yeah. I think they were lovers for a while, in Paris.’

      ‘Really?’ Jessica wondered if that squeaking reply was really her voice. Was that sick pounding of her heart due to an unwanted wave of jealousy which she had no right to feel?

      She tried not to let it spoil the rest of the evening, telling herself she wasn’t even going to mention it. Even in the car on the way back to the hotel, she managed to make small talk and to look suitably pleased when Loukas told her how happy everyone was with her performance.

      He brushed his hand over her waist as they stopped outside her suite and reached into her bag for her key card.

      ‘Hey,’ he said softly. ‘Want to come to mine?’

      ‘Not tonight. Would you mind?’ She forced a smile. ‘I’m very tired.’

      ‘So?’ He stroked a reflective fingertip over her ribcage. ‘Haven’t I proved that I’m capable of letting you sleep, even if having you naked beside me drives me crazy with desire?’

      ‘Who was that woman?’

      Her blurted question seemed to come out of nowhere and he raised his eyebrows. ‘There were a lot of women there this evening, Jess.’

      ‘The brunette. The one in the mini-dress.’

      ‘Ah, yes. Maya.’ He smiled. ‘Her name is Maya.’

      Heart pounding, she pushed open the door and walked inside and he followed her.

      ‘Why, were you jealous?’ he continued, almost conversationally.

       ‘No.’

      ‘Liar.’ He gave a soft laugh. ‘You were. You are. I can read it on your face.’

      And that was Jessica’s wake-up call. He wasn’t supposed to be reading anything on her face, because one of her great strengths was to hide her feelings behind a cool mask. Wasn’t it? If he’d started seeing things like jealousy in her eyes, how soon before he started seeing other things, too? Stuff she was trying to deny even to herself because she knew that it was pointless. Stuff like still caring for him when she knew there was no future in it. Stuff like falling in love with him all over again.

      And then a thought occurred to her and a terrible wave of suspicion washed over her, so that she had to fight it like crazy. She knew he was ruthless. He’d told her he was ruthless. Had he...had he deliberately gone out of his way to make her fall for him, just so that he could do to her what she’d done to him all those years ago?

      ‘Like I said, I’m very tired.’

      His face darkened. ‘Is Maya the reason for the icy look and frozen behaviour? Is talking to an ex-lover such a terrible thing to do when I meet her socially? What would you have me do, Jess? Tell her I’m sorry, but I happen to be sleeping with someone who wants to keep me on a leash?’

      She shook her head, telling herself that she was being stupid but it didn’t seem to help. Because this was the world he operated in. A world full of sophisticated ex-lovers he bumped into at parties and then made as if it didn’t matter. Because it didn’t. Not to him. A man didn’t get a reputation as a playboy because he sat at home every night, nursing a cup of cocoa. Playboys had partners. Lots of them. Playboys were known mainly for the fact that they never settled down, and she needed to accept that. You didn’t get a second chance in life. Not with someone like Loukas.

      ‘Of course not,’ she said. ‘It was completely unreasonable and I don’t know what came over me.’

      He tilted her chin with his fingers so that she had nowhere to look except into the dark gleam of his eyes. ‘So what shall we do to make it better?’

      It wasn’t easy but she gave the smile she knew was expected of her. The one with just the right amount of flirtation. One which managed to convey that she’d just had a temporary blip, but that everything was fine again.

      Except that it wasn’t. She felt as if she were standing on the edge of a cliff which had started to crumble and any minute now she would lose her footing and fall, if she wasn’t sensible enough to take a step back.

      This wasn’t going anywhere. She’d known that from the beginning. So get out now, before it’s too late.

      Putting her arms around his neck, she drew him close and heard his soft laugh as he slid down the zip of her dress with practised fingers. She closed her eyes as his fingers found her bare skin and, automatically, she began to shiver.

      Once more, she told herself.

      One more night.

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

      SHE WAS GONE when he returned from work next evening and as Loukas looked at the single sheet of paper which was all that was left of her, he realised that it came as no great surprise. Last night in his arms, she had been mind-blowing but he’d sensed something in