Malcolm ushered me into the cab and as we pulled away, he perused my legs before looking back up at my face. 'You look very young tonight.'
I glanced down at my outfit and pursed my lips. I looked my age tonight. I looked like me. 'You don't like it,' I muttered.
He gave a huff of laughter. 'Sweetheart, you look sexy as hell, but you look like a young wild child dating a grumpy older man.'
Something in his voice drew my gaze and I caught the flicker of unease in his eyes. He seemed worried. Cam's face hovering so close to mine flashed across my eyes and the guilt was crushing. 'You're not a grumpy older man. You're my sexy older man.'
His shoulders relaxed. 'As long as you think so.'
'I won't wear this again.'
'Good,' he murmured, leaning down to kiss my cheek. 'I prefer you in the dresses we bought. They make you look older, sophisticated.'
I would never have let a comment like that bother me before, but tonight it rubbed me a little raw. I faked a smile and let him squeeze my hand, wishing like hell I was back in my flat alone with a good book.
When we pulled up to Becca's building my stomach almost revolted and I sucked in a gasp to hold back the queasiness. Malcolm turned sharply to me, his brows drawn together. 'Are you okay?'
'You know, I've been feeling off,' I lied. 'I think I'm fighting a bug or something.'
'Do you want to leave?'
YES, YES, YES!
'No.' I nodded at the bottle of wine in his hand. 'Let's at least go up and have a drink.'
The party was in full bloom when we arrived. The huge flat had the rough needs-a-good-repaint-scrub-and-tidy-up look that many of the old student flats in Edinburgh had. Becca didn't seem to mind the clutter, or the ripped carpets, chipped woodwork and yellowing walls, and neither did her guests. Her artwork was plastered across as much of the wall space as possible, and the guests didn't seem to mind that either.
I admit to having to blink a little against all the stripes and splashes and colours. They reminded me of those nonsensical images you're supposed to stare at until a real image appeared in them.
'Mal, Jo!' Becca called as we entered the large open living space. She rushed past her friends and threw herself into Malcolm's arms. When she pulled back she clapped her hands like a little girl. 'You brought the good wine.'
'I did.' Malcolm grinned at her as he handed it over to her.
I eyed Becca carefully, analysing her like I had never done before. There she stood before me, with her wide, pretty smile, her intelligent eyes full of sparkle. What was it about her that made someone like Cam take notice? Suddenly I was uncomfortably aware of all Becca's positive attributes and I hated the jealousy they elicited in me.
Becca's own eyes flickered over my outfit and she smiled brightly. 'Jo, you look great.'
'Thank you,' I replied softly, feeling guilty as sin for almost … well … whatever it was Cam and I had almost done.
'Cam!' She twisted around and gestured through the crowd. 'Come say hello.'
I felt the pulse in my neck start to throb as Cam approached. I must not have masked my reaction sufficiently, because Malcolm slid a hand around my waist, curling me into him. He bent to whisper in my ear, 'What's going on? You look tense.'
Oh, crap. Oh, hell. I was blowing this. I sucked in a deep breath and then turned to him, deciding it best to play it like I was worried I'd upset him. 'I shouldn't have worn this.'
Malcolm grimaced and touched my cheek affectionately. 'Don't worry. I would never have said anything if I thought it would make you uncomfortable. You look beautiful. You always do.'
As I gazed up into his kind eyes I felt even worse about myself. I decided to make him happy as recompense, even at the sacrifice of my own self-respect. 'I don't like disappointing you.'
His eyes warmed at that – in fact it was safe to say they heated and I felt myself drawn tighter against him. 'You haven't. But I will look forward to undressing you later.'
More than ever I felt choked by my own lies. I'd created this person I thought Malcolm wanted me to be – I was who he wanted me to be. In other words, I wasn't me. And even as unhappiness crashed over me at the thought, I faked a giggle and he grinned.
'Uh, hullo.' Becca chuckled and we both whipped our heads around to face her and Cam. 'Need a room much?'
Cam's eyes bored into me with barely leashed fury, his features stretched taut with his discomfort. I felt that look like a punch in the gut and found myself wanting to pull away from Malcolm and fall to my knees in apology before Cam.
Or run like hell from both of them.
In other words, I was a bloody mess.
To my relief, Cam was distracted by Becca as she urged him to help her greet more guests. I was left alone with Malcolm, left alone to try to assure him that I was all right. That we were all right. I laughed at his jokes, I touched him affectionately, and I gave him my whole focus, even when we found ourselves in a group talking with Cam and Becca. Even when I felt the heat of Cam's gaze on me, I devoted my attention to Malcolm.