Chapter 227

I catch sight of Daniel moving in from the side under cover of shadow and he slides into a seat beside Margo, throwing her a smile, and I suddenly feel sick and breathless. Daniel most definitely doesn’t show face at corporate things. He never has. He always says it’s not his thing and bores him to tears.

Warning bells are going off inside my head and that flight or fight impulse has my feet itching to head for the nearest exit. I tighten my grip on Jake’s arm for security and a sense of calm. My heart is pounding erratically through my chest, palms clammy, my body turning cold with fear. He covers my hand with his, a grounding sensation that I’m aching for, but I’m still in panic mode and can almost feel the tension radiating from him. That’s why his touch isn’t working right now because Jake’s more scared than I am and he’s transferring it rather than taking mine away. My strong calm and in control Carrero is now adjusting his collar as though it’s choking him and tilting his neck from side to side in a massive show of uncharacteristic nerves.

Fuck!

“Are you okay?” He looks completely terrified as his eyes meet mine. His beautiful gorgeous face looking about fifteen years old and completely out of his depths. I swallow hard, willing him to just stop, stop whatever his head has planned and whatever I think. The last thing I need is for him to look so goddamn out of his depth, making me feel like I’m suffocating.

Don’t hurt him, Emma. Don’t do this to him after everything. Just look at him and breathe. Steady breaths and remember how much you love him.

The fear gripping me holds at his eye contact and I find the inner courage to slowly slide it further down inside of me, gripping with fingernails to keep control. I hold still, trying not to portray my feelings on to my face, in case he sees it, and paste a smile on my mouth, loosening my death grip on his arm.

I can’t ruin this for him, I can’t hurt him again after everything We’ve been through. I just need to pretend I don’t know and pray I don’t freak when he finally gets on one knee.

“Yeah, just a little overwhelmed with all this grandeur.” I smile, maintaining a steady voice with stoic effort and he relaxes a little. I draw on all my old PA Emma abilities to be emotionless, even in the face of extreme pressure. He’s studying me a little too closely, so I stretch up and kiss him quickly, making him kiss me properly and deeply, trying to remove any doubts about what I know. It seems to do the trick and he relaxes a little, all flickers of question smoothing from that beautiful brow and back to just a rather bad case of nerves. I squeeze his arm in a bid to calm him and really, to calm myself … a lot.

Count to ten, breathe. Focus on Jake, on just him and how much he loves you.

When we’re shown to our table Jake suddenly seems listless and his fidgeting demeanor hits full force, moving his glass from hand to hand and back to the table, avoiding eye contact when he has me seated beside him. He tenses and keeps looking out of the huge windows behind us as though checking for something. He picks up the drink they just laid beside him and downs it in one go, impulsively which is never a good sign or a good move on him. His hands raking through that immaculate hair, trying to sit still. He is all over the place and unraveling in front of me; this is not a version of him I have ever known. Jake is always so effortlessly in control publicly, so his behavior is making me even more uptight.

He smiles at me, but I know it’s pasted on and

in-genuine. His eyes flicker to the side until he spots something then excuses himself with a peck on my cheek

in a hurried fashion. I watch as he almost drags Daniel

out of his seat in passing and they disappear through a door near the side exit which takes you further into this grand hotel restaurant. Leaving me alone only makes me a hundred times worse.

My heart is pounding through my chest. The people around me are chatting and smiling my way, even Sylvana is trying to draw me into conversation, but my eyes are scouring the room for Sarah. She’s obviously been told to stay out of sight until the big moment. I have no idea what to do with myself. I can’t even voice my fear because I’m not supposed to know what this is. I can only sit here, curling up the napkin in front of me, counting as I breathe, trying to quell the panic that has every nerve ending on high alert. I don’t even know if I’m angry at this, at what he’s doing so publicly or if I want it this way and I’m just terrified. I have no clue how to feel or why I even feel this way. All the old inner Emma instincts are to run and hide but new Emma is holding me in my seat, all battling inside of my head with fears and reasoning, weighing up pros and cons, making my head ache.

Shit, crap, fuck. Breathe. Breathe. I can do this. I already said yes. I asked him! This is just Jake needing to do it his way and give me a ring. You love him. Let it go. Let him take control in this and trust him. Trust him, Emma. Trust that he’ll always make you happy.

I find Giovanni’s eyes on me across the table. He’s watching me with a slight smirking expression, those dark terrifying eyes unmoving as I meet his. He slowly lifts his tumbler of gin and raises it toward me, like a little toast, a hint of a smile on his face and then in an instant, it’s gone. He turns to his wife and places a kiss on her cheek leaving me completely dumbfounded.

What was that?

A light flush of color creeps up Sylvana’s face as he leans in to whisper in her ear and her blush intensifies as she looks down at her hands. I’m almost shocked to see such a private intimate moment so publicly shown from him, given that I know he abhors public affection. I start to watch a little too intensely, distracting myself from my inner panic, as she slides a hand from the table down and across his flat stomach. It’s so discreet and slow, disappearing out of sight, and I can only imagine her hand in his lap. I look away quickly, almost embarrassed.

Holy crap. Sexless marriage? I think not! Jake obviously has no clue that his parents are still having sex and naughty sex by the looks of it. I cringe in disgust when I realize Jake takes after his father in more ways than he knows. Ughhh.

Jake has the demonstrative affection of his mother, the public loving nature. But his kinky naughty side is from his father. I wonder, seeing it now, if that cool demeanor and uncaring attitude hides a man with a whole lot more going on in his heart than anyone ever sees, and it dawns on me. I’m more like Giovanni than Jake is!

I have the same outwardly cool persona and reserved side with a cool demeanor and Jake is Sylvana. Jake has brought me out of myself greatly but he’s still the one who always initiates public displays of affection like the hand holding and kissing. I am happy to be pulled along by him, but if he’d been like his father, I would’ve been okay with that too because I’m that way.

I clear my throat and down the glass of fresh fruit juice I’ve been served; trying to push all thoughts of what my in laws to be are doing under the table, trying to cast it very far away from my mind. Sylvana is feigning innocence but her hand hasn’t reappeared, and Giovanni looks more than a little smug right now.

Ewwwww.

I notice Leila is wandering around like a maniac across the currently empty dance floor. She doesn’t look so calm and controlled now, more of the feisty and pissed variety

in her short black dress, she grabs a random man in the most aggressive manner as he approaches her.

What the hell?

The man isn’t very tall, around five-foot eight at most, and sort of stocky with dark brown hair and brown eyes. Leila is hauling him this way, like a dominatrix leading a gimp, and as they approach, I realize this must be Kurt. The gentle features and adoring way he’s gazing at her as she bullies him toward our table says it all. The guy has smitten written all over him and is in no way even attempting to battle down the wild Leila peeking out.

So not good for her at all.

She orders him to sit down, icily, taking the seat next

to his, and slumps in her chair downing three drinks in a

row in the most alarming way. He tries to talk to her

and she totally blanks him, far too intent on waving down the passing waitress for another drink, by holding her empty one in the air. I’m too far across the table to warn her to slow down or throw her any kind of message at all and I have no clue why she’s trying to get so drunk so quick. At least they’ve taken my focus away from the near overwhelming panic attack I was close to.

The waitress is rambling on in my ear about the courses and specials. I’m not even sure if she’s asking me about ordering food or talking to someone else as I home in on the reappearance of Jake across the room. I’m always drawn to that masculine sexiness whenever he enters a room, like a moth to a flame. But then I am pretty sure about a dozen other female sets of eyes do the same thing.

Jake is here, minus Daniel, and looks on edge. His whole manner is uptight, and his hair is a little messy, the tell-tale sign he’s been running his hand through it, and his jacket has been unbuttoned with his tie loosened. He’s disheveled to say the least and not the immaculate guy who was present a couple of minutes ago, he looks a lot like the Jake who came home and told me he’d hurt me, and my heart tightens a lot in response.

He would never do anything like that again. Trust him.