The Matchmaker Bride by Kate Hewitt Page A

if they so choose.’
    Emily sighed, rolling her eyes for dramatic effect. ‘Very well. It is quite clear to me that you do not have a romantic bone in your body.’
    ‘On the contrary,’ Jason replied equably, ‘I think it shows a remarkable sensitivity on my part, that I concern myself with them at all.’ He smiled blandly. ‘You, however, need not concern yourself.’
    ‘As Head of Human Resources, it’s my responsibility to make sure Helen settles in—’
    ‘I’m sure Richard has that well in hand.’
    ‘Ha!’ Emily shook her head. ‘He probably thinks inviting Helen over for some television and takeaway is enough.’
    Jason narrowed his eyes. ‘You really do have something against him, don’t you?’
    ‘No—’ Emily protested, but Jason cut across her.
    ‘Or is it just more amusing—and easier—to involve yourself in other people’s lives rather than consider your own?’
    Emily blinked; the banter had suddenly turned a bit too personal. His accusation hurt. ‘Are you saying I’m a busybody?’
    ‘I’m giving it to you straight,’ Jason corrected, a small smile barely softening his words. ‘Don’t meddle.’ He signalled for the waiter. ‘And now I think I should take you home.’
    Emily was irritatingly aware that Jason had just ended their conversation whether she had something more to say or not. So typical of him, and even though she’d fully intended to show him just how sophisticated and poised she’d become, she still felt like a scolded child in his presence, complete with braces and plaits. She rose from the table as gracefully as she could, well aware that although she wasn’t drunk, she was definitely operating with a little buzz.
    ‘Thank you for dinner.’
    ‘The pleasure was all mine.’ Jason’s lips twitched as he gazed at her; Emily knew she probably looked a little sulky. ‘Literally,’ he added.
    She felt compelled to say, ‘I don’t meddle.’
    ‘And I’m not boring,’ Jason whispered, his breath fanning her ear, his hand on the small of her back as he guided her from the restaurant. ‘It seems we have to get to know each other all over again, Em.’
    Before Emily could think of a reply, or even untangle just what Jason might have meant, the valet was fetching his Porsche and she was sliding into the leather interior, her head resting against the seat as the world spun dizzily around her. Definitely too much wine.
    ‘Poor, Em,’ Jason murmured as he pulled away from the kerb. ‘Did you have anything to eat today?’
    ‘A few crackers at lunch,’ Emily said with a sigh. ‘I’m a notorious lightweight, but even this is a bit much for me.’ She felt her stomach lurch and grimaced.
    ‘I hope,’ Jason said, ‘you’re not going to be sick all over my car.’
    Emily tried to laugh, although the idea was alarmingly possible. ‘If I am,’ she said, ‘it’s because the chicken was off, not because I drank too much.’
    Jason laughed softly. ‘Perhaps you should have tried the calf livers.’ He reached over and laid a cool hand on her forehead, his fingers massaging her temples with deft lightness. She inhaled the citrusy tang of his aftershave, felt the graze of his thumb on her cheekbone. The touch managed to both soothe and stimulate her, which made her body feel even more confused. Jason had never touched her like this before; he’d never really touched her at all. ‘Maybe you should close your eyes,’ he suggested.
    Emily obeyed, her head resting against the seat as she took a few deep breaths and her stomach finally settled itself. Jason left his hand on her forehead, the pressure cool and comforting. Emily had the bizarre desire to put her hand over his own, to keep his palm there, pressed against her. ‘Sorry,’ she said after a moment, and then added, compelled to honesty, ‘And here I wanted to show you how sophisticated I am.’
    ‘Sophisticated?’ Belatedly, Emily realised she probably shouldn’t have said that. ‘Sophistication