“Of course.” She cradled the champagne glass. “I wouldn’t wear anything else.”
“It’s very timeless. I mean, your mother would look smashing in it.”
And there it was. The subtle little dig, the slight criticism that had always turned her off. “I’ll be sure to tell her you said so. Now if you’ll excuse me...”
She went to move away but he reached out and grabbed her wrist. They were close enough now she could smell the booze and knew he’d been drinking for a while, though he hid it well. A wave of revulsion rolled through her. She hadn’t forgotten that Mark Church was the kind of man who would say whatever he needed to get what he wanted.
“Let’s get out of here and go someplace quieter,” he suggested, his dark eyes meeting hers. “For old times’ sake.”
She pulled her wrist away just as she became aware of Jacob coming forward. “What a kind suggestion, but no thank you.”
He slid closer. “Come on, Charlotte. We were good to
gether. Let’s see how it—”
“Ah, there you are.” Jacob’s voice was measured and calm. “I wondered if you’d been held up.” His eyes smiled down into hers, and then she watched as he turned his icy gaze on Mark. “And you are?”
Mark, being the idiot he was, straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin, which still left him a few inches shorter than Jacob. “Mark Church.” He didn’t ask Jacob his name, which seemed totally in character.
“Nice to meet you. Charlotte, darling...” Charlotte nearly rolled her eyes at his deliberate overplay of “darling” in a very posh Londony type of accent. “Shall we get back?”
“Of course.” She was so grateful for the save.
They’d just started to move away when Mark stepped forward again. “Charlotte, remember what I said. We’re both in town all week.”
Gross. As if she’d hook up with him again after all this time. But she didn’t have to worry. Jacob let go of her hand and stepped up to Mark, face-to-face, and Charlotte wanted to laugh at the sheer difference in their physiques. Mark’s expression turned to one of childish defiance.
“Not cool, Mark. I’m standing right here. And I recall the lady saying no. That’s all it takes, right? No?”
“Sure, mate.” Mark replied in a fake accent that made him seem even more ridiculous.
Charlotte took Jacob’s hand again, so very grateful he was with her despite her protests that she didn’t need a bodyguard.
And when Mark muttered a word that equated Jacob to a particular piece of anatomy, Charlotte wasn’t so sure Jacob wouldn’t turn around.
Instead Jacob laughed and shook his head. “All booze and no brains,” he muttered. “And not worth it. Unless you want me to.”
“I don’t want a scene,” she said back. “But thank you, Jacob. I don’t think I need a bodyguard, but I’m awfully glad you were my wingman tonight.”
He stopped and faced her, and there was something different in his expression. Something softer and more personal.
“I know you said you were supposed to stay for a few hours, but you’re exhausted. Why don’t we go?”
A headache was starting to brew behind her eyes. “Let’s try another half hour. We’ll go in, make another circuit around and then, yes, we can go. I didn’t expect the time difference to affect me quite this much.”
“As long as we keep you away from what’s-his-name.” Jacob smiled, and her heart did another one of those irregular beats. He didn’t smile often, but when he did, it was like a bright ray of sunshine.
“He’s an ex for a reason,” she replied, raising her voice as they entered the room once again. “I’m truly not interested.”
Another glass of champagne was pressed into her hand—that made three now, and nowhere near her normal limit but more than enough on her empty stomach. Jacob stayed close beside her, engaging in brief conversation when invited. She got the feeling he knew how to be quite the chameleon. For all he was a former soldier, he knew how to clean up and be very charming.
They were making their way to the door now and Charlotte was feeling the effects of the champagne. Her legs were a little wobbly, and she felt like her smile was maybe a bit too wide. She looked over at Jacob. He was still calm and cool, looking so suave in his suit and with his hair slicked back. Like a dressed-up Nordic warrior or something.
“What?” he asked, when he noticed her staring at him.
“Nothing. You’re just...never mind.”
“Fine. Let’s get out of here, shall we? You’ve done your duty rounds.”