The Deception by Fiona Palmer Page B

talker,’ she said with a forced smile. Jaz was calm on the outside but inside questions about Ryan and his date were still running at a rapid rate. ‘Shall we order?’ Jaz picked up the menu but diverted her eyes towards Ryan. He was moving across the room with his hand caressing the woman tenderly, causing Jaz’s stomach to clench painfully, like an attack of food poisoning. Ryan sat at his table, right in Jaz’s line of sight. He looked up and met her gaze.
    Oh no. This was going to be one long dinner.
    She gave him an exaggerated smile, borderline frosty. She’d been hoping to portray no interest in Ryan and act as if she was as cool as a cucumber. No doubt she’d failed miserably.
    Over dinner, Jaz tried hard to forget Ryan and focus on Marcus. She’d found out that Carl was in fact away for the week on business, apparently something to do with importing some more art. Jaz was sceptical but noted down the date and time he was due back home, which was just in time for the sea container sale down at the port.
    ‘Has your dad found someone to replace Tommy?’ said Jaz, choking out his name. She reached for her wine, pretending some pasta was stuck in her throat. Her body shivered as if Tommy himself was jumping on her grave, screaming out ‘bitch’.
    ‘Are you okay?’ Marcus passed her his napkin.
    Jaz nodded. ‘Yep, good,’ she managed before one last cough.
    Marcus reached for his glass of red wine. ‘Dad has a new guy called Ethan. A mate of Richo’s, apparently.’
    Any mate of Richo’s spelled bad news in Jaz’s book. She pumped Marcus for any other details he knew about Richo and Ethan, filing it away for later. You never know when it could be relevant information.
    In her position at the table she could see Ryan in her peripheral vision, whether she wanted to or not. And like a bug to a bright light she couldn’t help but watch him, her reasoning was she’d probably never see him in a suit again. It totally changed him, making him look like some rich playboy. By now he’d discarded his jacket onto the back of his chair, his white shirt was open at the neck, a few buttons down. Even from here, she could see the tan V of his chest and craved to be closer. Visions of their night in Pakistan flooded her mind. Ryan shirtless pressed up against her, his strong hands on her breasts, so tenderly, causing such heat. It was everything she’d needed to forget the horrors of that night. Did he ever think of that night? Did he regret it? A hot wave flushed her cheeks, made even worse when Ryan’s dark eyes began watched her intently. Could he tell what she was thinking?
    ‘Excuse me,’ said Jaz, getting up quickly and awkwardly. ‘I’ll be back.’ She needed air and cold water for her burning cheeks.
    Marcus nodded. ‘Want me to order dessert? Tiramisu?’
    ‘Yes, please,’ Jaz mumbled out before retreating to the safety of the toilets, which were at the back behind a false wall.
    Out of the public eye, Jaz sagged forward against the wall, resting her head on her arm as she tried to calm her wired body. Breathing in and out and trying not to picture Ryan without that shirt on.
    ‘Jaz?’
    She didn’t know what startled her more, the husky sound of Ryan’s voice or his warm hand that came to rest low on her bare back.
    ‘Are you okay?’
    Not with your hand on me, she thought. If she turned around to face him, it would sever the connection. She couldn’t. His hand felt damn good that low on her skin. When was the last time he’d touched her like that? So personal and intimate. God she wanted him.
    ‘I’m fine,’ she said, deciding not to move.
    Ryan slid his hand around to her waist, gently turning her towards him. It did nothing to slow her heartbeat. Her eyes were nearly level with his open shirt, the one that had caused her little melt down in the first place. Looking up wasn’t any easier as his steely eyes were watching her curiously.
    ‘I’m on a job, Jaz. Her father is Jameson