Page 41 of The Invitation

Shit, he’s divine.

Coming to a stop at the podium, he clears his throat, waiting for the applause—and probably the awe—to die down. Everyone eventually takes their seats, and he starts to speak. “Good morning, I’m Jude Harrison,” he says, leaning slightly over the mic. His words, just a plain introduction, are like feathers tickling over my skin, making myshoulder blades pull in, along with my breath. I look down at my bare arm. Goose bumps. “What an honour it is to host this year’s conference at Arlington Hall.” He smirks, and I push my thighs together to suppress the developing throb. How? How can he do this to me? “Despite being an afterthought,” he adds seriously. The crowd laughs lightly, and I gaze around to see every woman in the room enchanted.

Jude Harrison.

Fucking hell.

“I can’t believe it,” I say to myself.

“What?” Gary asks.

“Nothing.”

“Arlington Hall is a special place,” Jude Harrison continues when the room quiets down again. “So please explore the grounds in between your hardcore business mingling. Enjoy the food, and when business concludes and you allow yourself some time toloosenup, maybe I can tempt you with one of our famous cocktails.”

I sit up straight.Loose?

Fucking hell.Does he know I’m here? I shift in my seat, getting hotter and more unsettled by the second. Then his eyes fall onto me and my insides explode. He doesn’t smile. Just holds me in place with his stare for a few moments. Speaking to me without speaking.Loosen up.At a work event? Never, although I’m seriously considering the merits of alcohol right now. My nerves are absolutely shredded.

“Some of the best deals are made over a relaxed drink,” he says, a definite suggestive edge to his tone. “I recommend the Hey Jude—inspired by me and created by my wonderful mother, the late Evelyn Harrison.” My fluster is momentarily forgotten when I see a wave of sadness pass across his otherworldly, handsome face. His eyes drop to the podium, and he seems to smile mildly to himself.Jude Harrison, you are less steely than you portray.Evelyn Harrison. His mum. The elegant, graceful beauty in the portrait. I can see it now. The twinkly eyes that straddle the line between blue and green. Almost like the sea. “She’s the lady behind Arlington Hall,” he goes on, clearing his throat. “I’mthe lucky one who gets to showcase her achievements.” Jude Harrison seems to inhale and release slowly, as if merely talking about his mother chokes him up. “So on behalf of my family and I, enjoy your day. I’m sure you’ll agree by the end of your time here at Arlington Hall, it’s a really special place. I hope you remember it, whether that be for a deal you strike, the food you taste, the cocktails you try, or the acquaintances you make.” His eyes fall onto me again. “I’m at your disposal. So, please, make the most of me. I sincerely hope it’s not the last time I see you.”

As everyone stands and applauds, I remain in my seat, scared to even try to use my legs, my eyes nailed to the back of the guy who’s in front of me. When Shelley looks down at me in question, I somehow convince myself to rise.

And am forced to take a breath when Jude Harrison comes back into view.

He watches me in the crowd. My insides burn, my heart pounds. What is this madness?

He eventually nods and steps back from the podium, slipping his hands into his pockets. Out of sight. I sense a silent message. I don’t know what. He’ll keep them to himself?

I drop my gaze, needing a break from his intense stare. He must have known I’d be here. I told him I’m good with numbers. I told him what I do for a living. He would have seen the list of attendees. And he didn’t think to tell me who he is before striding out on that stage and giving me the shock of my life? He wanted to catch me off guard. Trap me? My phone dings, and I swallow as I read the message.

You look even more beautiful with your hair loose and wild.

His mobile is in his hand when I glance up, and he’s spinning it. Eyes never wavering from mine as he pushes his hair back with his spare hand.

Make time for me today.

It’s a demand. My lungs squeeze, air suddenly impossible to find. I can’t breathe. I need to breathe. I need air. “Excuse me,” I say to Gary, motioning past him, feeling panic rising fast.

“Everything okay?” he asks as I shuffle past him and Leighton, so fucking wobbly.

Shit, how can I explain my behaviour? I need a moment to gather myself. Regroup. Dig deep for the strength I’m going to need today to maintain my focus. “Yes, just a family emergency.” I hold up my phone. “I won’t be long.” I hurry up the aisle in my heels, catching Clark’s eye as I pass him a few rows back. His concern is instant. I hold up a hand, smiling, assuring him I’m fine. I’m not fine. I’ve been struggling to take my mind off Jude Harrison for over a week. His hands, his hair, his stunning face, his tall, lean physique. His chest. His jaw. His fucking eyes that drip sex. What he can do to me without even fucking touching me. And that’s when he’s out of sight. Now he’s here?

“No,” I say to myself as I make it outside the auditorium and rush through the glass tunnel. I realise quickly that I have no idea where the ladies’ bathrooms are—the only ones I’ve used here were in the changing rooms on the other side of the hotel in the spa. “Shit.” I spot Anouska.

“Miss Lazenby?” she says in question as I approach.

“I’m looking for the ladies’.”

“Just through there on the right.” She motions back through the glass tunnel.

“Thank you,” I call, hurrying back the way I came, but I come to an abrupt halt when Jude Harrison pushes his way out the double doors from the auditorium, looking a little ruffled.

And worried.

“Amelia,” he breathes, checking me up and down. I don’t do the same. Reminding myself of the splendour before me won’t help. Not that I need a reminder. Everything Jude Harrison is embedded in mymind. “What’s wrong?” He moves toward me, and I move back, making him still, the concern on his face maddening.

What’s wrong?Where does he want me to start? I could be here all fucking day, and I don’t have time. I walk away, heading for the ladies’, but stop when I hear his fancy dress shoes join the clicking of my heels on the marble.

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