'You look tremendous.'
Emily accepted the compliment with a warm smile. She was glad they were friends again, and Gavin appeared to have accepted that they would never be anything more. She had literally bumped into him in a department store, but his acceptance of the situation had taken the initial strain from their relationship. She had enjoyed the occasional meal they had had together since she'd moved into her own small flat.
Her best friend Martine had given her the breathing space she'd needed after she'd walked out on Luke. The noise and warmth of the ebullient household with its most recent addition, her six-month-old god-daughter, had made her wistful for all the things she'd missed out on. She had gone through the first few weeks in a numb daze. She didn't want to recall the terrible bleak time, but now she had the incentive to go back out and meet life head-on. She had their child—her child, because Luke was not to know. About that she was fiercely determined—the child wouldn't be more ammunition for him. Happiness and fulfilment might be denied her, but they were not prerequisites for a fruitful life; her child was part of Luke that no one could rob her of. When she'd received the confirmation of her pregnancy, one single emotion had risen above the seething mass—joy.
Her first instinct had been to move as far away as possible, but friendly advice had made her realise the benefit of having her friends close at hand; and, while she had no intention of moving back into Charlcot, she didn't want to lose contact with her family completely.
The party was a glittering charity event and she was sure she would bump into other members of her family at some point. It was the sort of high-profile occasion that they felt duty bound to grace with their presence. 'Is Charlotte coming?' she asked innocently, nodding away a drinks tray.
'I wouldn't know.'
She permitted herself a small smile. Despite the recent tiff, she suspected her sister and Gavin would be back together before long. Her eyes skimmed the crowded room, and she was content just to people- watch. The diamonds around necks challenged the glitter of the chandeliers, and she wondered what the starving millions the night was intended to aid would make of it all.
She froze as they traversed the room, and felt the blood drain from her face. Her right hand went out to clutch at Gavin for support. 'I can't stay here…did you know? Hell, I'm going to be sick.'
Her escort's face bore a hunted expression as he glanced around to see if her extraordinary behaviour was drawing unwanted attention. 'Are you ill? Should I get a doctor?'
Seeing the piercing, predatory expression on Luke's face as he got nearer, Emily thought that that might not be such a bad idea. 'Luke…' she muttered in Gavin's ear by way of explanation. What was he doing here? He never attended this sort of party.
The moment she had sensed him, before she'd even seen the tall, distinguished figure impeccable in his evening dress across the room, she had known that her recovery was paper-thin. The awful sense of deprivation that impelled her to say his name out loud sometimes, just to remind herself how it sounded, had been controllable; but this violent rush of emotion was not.
'Hello, Luke.' She felt impelled to be the first to speak, managing to sound at least relatively normal. 'Beth.' She found herself hating the woman with such vehemence that it was almost physical. They would be together; that had been no shock. They looked good— both tall, elegant, she divinely fair and he darkly handsome—a natural pairing. She felt like a shaggy, if cute little Shetland pony beside two thoroughbreds. She felt squashed beneath the oppressive weight of all that perfection.
'Why, this is a real family gathering. I believe Charlie is around here somewhere,' Luke said softly. He'd given Gavin one frankly murderous glare before reserving his attention for Emily. The intense blue of his eyes hit her like a laser. Bland indifference would have been more what she'd expected, and this unbridled aggression threw her even further off balance.
'You and Emily are related?' Beth sounded surprised. If she was put out by the gaping hole in the smooth surface of social behaviour that Luke's unwavering scrutiny had torn, her manner gave no indication. The even white teeth were a great advertisement for advanced dentistry, Emily thought, feeling quite justified in her silent bitchiness.
'We're cousins.'
'I'm by way of being the black sheep in a very respectable clan, Beth. But Emily exaggerates our blood tie considerably. My mother was Charlie Stapely's adoptive cousin; none of the sacred blood runs in my veins.'
'You, a black sheep!' Beth laughed huskily at the thought. 'I had no idea you were nearly that dangerous, darling. How delicious!'
Emily felt her teeth ache as they clamped together. Did she practise the sultry smile or was it natural flirtatiousness? Either way, she was sure that she herself could never perfect it.