* *
Afterwards, after they’d come back down to earth and stumbled out of the pod, rumpled and high on champagne and emotion, they returned home and made love again, this time taking the opportunity to explore each other’s bodies properly, relearning what they used to know and finding comfort and joy in the fact that being together again was as wonderful as they remembered—maybe even more so—until they finally fell asleep in each other’s arms, both mentally and physically replete after their long-awaited wedding night.
* * *
Jack woke the next morning with a deep sense of satisfaction warming his body.
Memories of having Emma in his arms last night swam across his vision and he allowed himself to exult in them for a while before opening his eyes.
He hadn’t intended to make love to her last night, the trip on the London Eye was meant to be an apology for the awful, cold way he’d been acting towards her, but she’d looked so wary to be there alone with him he’d known if he wanted to gain her trust again he was going to have to be totally honest with her about how he was feeling.
It had been incredibly hard saying those things to her after years of burying his feelings so deeply inside him, but he was intensely relieved that they were finally out in the open.
He knew now with agonising certainty that he’d never felt like this with anyone but her. The women he’d dated in the years they’d been apart had all been pale imitations of her. Mere tracing paper versions. Without substance. None of them had her grace and finesse, or her smart, sharp wit. Or her beauty.
After Emma had left him, he’d shut himself off from romantic emotion, not wanting to deal with the torment he’d been put through, but as soon as she’d reappeared in his life all those feelings had come rushing back. But it had been too painful to bear at first, like emotional pins and needles. So he’d numbed himself against her.
Until it wasn’t possible to any more.
From the way she’d kept herself gently aloof from him since they’d met again he’d been afraid that she wasn’t interested in renewing their connection—that she’d moved on from him—but judging by the passionate fervour of her lovemaking last night, it seemed she did still care about him after all.
Which led him to believe that there might be hope for them yet.
Excitement buzzed through his veins and he turned to look for the woman who had made him an intensely happy man last night, only to be disappointed when he found the space where she’d lain in bed next to him empty and cold.
Frowning, he grabbed his phone, glancing at the screen to see it was already eight-thirty. It wasn’t like him to sleep in late, but after the intensity of the night before he guessed it wasn’t entirely surprising.
At least he’d taken today off work to be available for the Babbler interview, so he and Emma would be able to spend the day in each other’s company—hopefully most of it in bed.
Heart feeling lighter than it had in years, he got up and took a quick shower, then pulled on some fresh clothes.
It was a shame there wasn’t time to lure her back to bed now. That damn interview! It was the very last thing he wanted to do today.
Still, perhaps once Perdita had cleared off he could take Emma out for a slap-up meal to apologise for forcing her to take part in his father’s media circus, then drag her back to the house for a lot more personal attention and a chance for them to talk about their future together.
Taking the stairs two at a time, he went straight to the kitchen to seek out Emma so they could start their life together again as soon as possible.
* * *
Emma had woken up in the dark to find Jack’s arm lying heavily across her chest and his leg hooked over hers, trapping her within the cage of his body.
Her first thought was, What have I done?
She’d let her crazy romantic notions get the better of her, that was what.
She was suddenly terrified that she’d made a terrible mistake.
Heart pounding, she’d wriggled out of his covetous embrace and dashed into the en-suite bathroom, her forehead damp with sweat and her limbs twitchy with adrenaline.
After splashing some water on her face and feeling her heart rate begin to return to normal, she’d crept back out to the bedroom and stood looking at Jack as he slept. He’d looked so peaceful, lying there on his side, with his arm still outstretched as if he were holding onto the ghost of her presence.
Unable to bear the idea of getting back into bed with him when her feelings were in such chaos, she went to her own room to get dressed, then headed downstairs to make herself a soothing cup of tea. She sat with it at the table, staring into space and thinking, thinking, thinking...
Half an hour later, she was still sitting there with a cold cup of tea in front of her, her thoughts a blur of conflicting emotions.
She was so confused, so twisted into knots. In her haze of lust and alcohol last night she’d thought she’d be able to remain in control and keep her feelings safe.
What an idiot she’d been.
It hadn’t taken much for him to break through the barriers she’d so carefully constructed over the last six years to keep her safe from any more emotional upheaval.
Just the thought of it made her go cold with fear.
What had she been thinking, imagining reconciliation with Jack was what she wanted? It was crazy to try and reinstate what they’d once had. Impossible! They couldn’t just pick up where they’d left off and she couldn’t put herself through the torment of wondering when it was all going to be ripped away from her again.
Because it would be.
She didn’t get to keep the people she loved.
Anyway, he was still probably clinging on to a vision of her from when she was eighteen, all bright-eyed and full of naïve optimism. The Emma she’d been then was the perfect match for someone of his standing—a billionaire businessman and earl of the realm—but the Emma she was now was all wrong to be the wife of someone like that. Especially as his family put such store in appearances. They’d humoured the match up till now, but surely it would cause all sorts of friction for Jack in the future. It could tear his family apart, and, after having her own torn asunder, that was the last thing she’d wish on him.
He’d only end up hating her for it.
After already suffering through the turmoil of losing him once; she couldn’t bear the thought of going through it again. It would break her in two.
She jumped in surprise as Jack came striding into the kitchen looking all rumpled and sexy, with a wide smile on his face.
Her stomach did an almighty flip at the sight of him, but she dug her fingernails into the table top, reminding herself of all the reasons why it would be a bad idea to take things any further with him.
Striding over to where she sat, he bent down to kiss her and she steeled herself, flinching a little as his mouth made contact with hers.
As he pulled away she could tell from the look of wounded surprise in his eyes that he’d noticed her withdrawal.
‘Emma? What’s wrong?’ he asked, his tone confirming his apprehension.
But before she could answer there was a long ring on the doorbell.
‘That’ll be Perdita,’ Jack said, annoyance tingeing his voice. ‘She’s early.’
* * *
Jack paced the floor of the living room with a feeling of dread lying heavily in his gut while Emma went to let Perdita and the photographer in.
He didn’t understand why she was suddenly acting so coldly towards him after what they’d shared last night. The way she’d flinched away from