Duarte's Child

Duarte focused on her with intent dark golden eyes and stilled as if someone had yanked an off switch inside him.

Emily started backing up the stairs again. ‘I could have told you…I look like you don’t feed me. Give me two minutes and I’ll be covered up again!’

Duarte strode forward. ‘You look breathtaking…’

Full marks for stunned stare of appreciation, she thought and waited on the punchline that she was sure was about to come and then she would be a good sport and laugh.

‘Gorgeous, minha jóia.’

Emily winced. ‘No, I’m not.’

Duarte grabbed her hand and practically carried her over to the giant gilded mirror on the paneled wall. ‘What do you see?’

‘I’m not looking. I don’t like my legs, my arms, my—er—other bits.’

‘I love them,’ Duarte husked bending over her. ‘You have beautiful legs—’

‘They’re too short,’ she hissed.

‘Very shapely ankles, dainty arms, a neck like a swan’s—’

‘It’s not long enough—’

‘Everything in perfect proportion and you look distinctly ethereal in that shade of blue—’

‘Spectral and gaunt?’ She inched up her eyelashes.

‘Ravishing. You grew up with two sisters jealous that you outshone them entirely in the looks department. Stop tormenting yourself with your non-existent flaws,’ Duarte urged with a frank exasperation that had a much more powerful effect on her confidence than his compliments.

Finally studying her reflection, Emily saw herself as she had never seen herself. Elegant, slim and small it was true but not scrawny. Putting her hair up had been a good idea for now she could see that her face had a shape and her eyes looked all bright and starry. She turned ever so slightly sideways to check out the bosom profile. No improvement there but my goodness that dress flattered her, particularly the colour!

She looked in the mirror and met Duarte’s intent gaze. He dealt her a hot, sizzling appraisal that spoke lustful volumes and made her quiver in helpless response. Well, she was ravishing him, anyway. ‘My sisters aren’t jealous of me—far from it,’ she told him ruefully.

‘Why else would they always be putting you down and cracking jokes at your expense?’

She sighed. ‘It’s just always been that way…their sense of humour, I suppose.’

‘And your mother either acting as if it’s not happening or even joining in. I know you care about your family but I think you need to assert yourself and make them treat you with respect.’

At that point the front doors were opened wide to greet the arrival of their first guests. There was no time for further conversation but she was disconcerted by what he’d said. It hurt that he had noticed her family’s lack of respect but she was touched that he was concerned enough to advise her. Unfortunately, she could not imagine standing up to demand anything from her far more assertive elder sisters.

The party was in full swing by the time Bliss arrived and made an entrance. Every male head turned to watch Bliss glide across the room, her shapely figure enhanced by a scarlet silk sheath dress that was a far cry from her discreet business suits.

Her heartbeat accelerating, Emily watched Duarte cut through the crush to greet his executive assistant and she turned away again. There was nothing going on between Bliss and Duarte, she told herself firmly. They had become friends. She would just have to learn to live with that.

Duarte was not acting like a male involved in an affair. Duarte was behaving very much like a male who wanted to keep his marriage intact. She’d actually made it to that holy of holies once denied, a shared marital bed! He had told her about Izabel. He was entranced by their son. He had bought her a whole outfit and it did seem to do something special for her. Then there were the sapphires which had attracted many admiring comments and every time she said ‘Duarte gave them to me,’ she felt like a million dollars.

So she was looking on the bright side, refusing to dwell on murky suspicions for which she had no proof. Bliss Jarrett had always been a man’s woman and very ambitious. It was hardly surprising that she should have ditched her covert friendship with Emily and chosen to shift her allegiance to Duarte instead. And, to be fair, Emily reflected ruefully, possibly Bliss did thoroughly dislike her now for what her foolish flight from Portugal had done to Duarte.

While she talked herself mentally into that state of calm and security, Emily drank her way through two glasses of wine. She rarely touched alcohol, for she did not have much of a head for it, but she felt in dire need of a little Dutch courage.