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Playing the part of the flirty, doting wife was harder than Tia had predicted, for the simple reason something had ignited between herself and Hamish and it was as real as it was breathtaking. If Cressida hadn’t interrupted them in the hallway, she thought he might actually have made love to her then and there. His arousal had been hard against her hip, his hands pushing her up to him like he had to take her or he might die.

Every single touch felt like it might burst into the room as a bomb, exploding through them all. They sat side by side on a leather chesterfield sofa, her legs crossed to reveal her thigh. Hamish’s father, Earl Ashcombe, or Rupert, as he’d introduced himself, had whistled when they’d walked in—an unlikely trio—his eyes locked on Tia. “Well, son, I can see why you kept this one secret. I might have stolen her myself,” he quipped—in a poor attempt at humour, making Cressida gasp softly.

“Not a chance,” Tia had responded, lacing her fingers through Hamish’s, to give him moral support in the face of this godawful weekend and also his dad’s apparent indelicacy. “Only a fool would be stolen away from this man.”

Okay, that might have gone too far, but to hell with it. She was furious with all of them, and had no intention of letting Cressida or Ewan off the hook, even if Hamish was inclined to treat them gently.

He squeezed her hand; this time, it was a warning.

She ignored it. The next hour passed in a succession of similar little jabs and an overt display of physical affection. She leaned into Hamish’s side on the sofa, put her hand on his knee, stroked his cheek, aware all the time of the way Ewan and Cressida were sitting so awkwardly across from them, barely touching. Cressida looked as white as a sheet, the honey tan somehow completely erased. But Tia’s enjoyment of teasing Hamish evaporated completely when he returned the favour, putting his hand on her exposed thigh, his thumb stroking rhythmic lines against her skin, each one making her breath catch in her throat. But that was nothing to when he put an arm over her shoulder and let his fingers drop low enough to brush the top of her breasts. She almost jumped out of her seat.

Cocktail hour was, as it turned out, not for the faint-hearted. Rupert mixed gin and tonics with a heavy emphasis on the gin, and tonic more as a splash, like a drink-garnish. Tia took one sip and replaced her glass on the coffee table. Hamish cradled his glass but barely drank from it. The others, she noticed, had no such restraint. They were onto their third before Rupert noticed that Tia and Hamish had barely touched theirs.

At first, conversation was stilted but as the alcohol flowed, it became more natural. Even lively at times, as Rupert and Ewan discussed a significant commodities trade Ewan was looking at. When Tia weighed in with her thoughts, they all stopped talking and looked at her with surprise.

“I’m an investor myself,” she said. “I keep abreast of the market—and I definitely wouldn’t make that trade. Not now.”

Cressida’s eyes narrowed with barely concealed hatred. It surprised Tia; she hadn’t thought the other woman capable of it. Then again, Tia had been goading her all night, she probably deserved a little anger in return.

“Then what would you do?” Rupert asked, his full attention on Tia now.

She considered it a moment before outlining a more propitious strategy, more geared to the current global climate, and then pulled out her phone to do some quick calculations. “You’re looking at a significantly better return on investment if you move quickly, and that’s over six months, not eighteen.”

Rupert arched a brow. “Can we go over this again tomorrow?”

Tia eyed his now empty glass. She’d lost count. “Sure, anytime.”

“We should have dinner, shouldn’t we?” Cressida asked, standing a little unevenly. She felt Hamish stiffen at her side, his concern unmistakable.

Tia turned to him quickly, wanting to wrestle his attention back to herself. She put her hand on his thigh, but high, high enough that if she were to move another inch she’d brush against his cock.

“Are you hungry, darling?” she purred, and he glanced down at her, frowning.

“Starving.” His eyes were on her lips.

She quirked them into a smile then leaned forward to whisper into his ear, “Careful, Hamish. I’m a very jealous wife-by-arrangement. If you keep staring at Cressida like you want to save her from me, I might just kiss you in front of everyone.”

She felt his breath quicken.

He turned to return the whisper, his voice low. “If you want to threaten me, you should choose a penalty that I don’t actually want.” And then, as if he was daring her, he brushed his lips over hers, the kiss so light, so fast it was over before she’d realised it was happening, but that didn’t matter. Her lips parted, her mouth tingled, her whole body felt like it had been shocked.

They just stared at each other and Tia wondered if it was the same for him? Had the room virtually disappeared, so it was just the two of them and this strange, swirling heat?

“Yes, dinner,” Eleanor said, and it was only when she stood and Tia came back to earth, and the room, that she realised her mother-in-law was wearing the locket Tia had given her. It made her immeasurably, illogically pleased.

Dinner was more of the same, only now they were drinking wine, and there was a smorgasbord of rich, hearty foods on offer. From pâté to raclette, to quiche, then a beef stew with creamy mashed potatoes and greens, Tia was full before they’d even finished the entrees. She stuck to water and Hamish had a few sips of red wine then left his glass untouched. The rest continued what they’d started earlier.

She was able to observe Cressida and Ewan now without worrying that they were aware of it; they were both too sloshed to notice. She couldn’t tell what their relationship was like. In the kitchen, earlier, he’d been comforting her, and they’d looked close, but all night, she’d sat with a waspish, unhappy energy and he’d barely paid her attention.

Then again, the return of Hamish had been bound to upset the applecart, particularly given that he had brought a wife with him.

“So Eleanor tells me you’re trying for a little one,” Rupert said, as the main course plates were cleared away. She felt Hamish stiffen again and knew the cause of it. Cressida’s face fell, and Ewan looked as though he wanted to fade into the ground. He put an arm around his wife and drew her closer.

It was too much, even for Tia. She glanced up at Hamish, saw his eyes resting on Cressida and acted quickly. Beneath the table, she squeezed his thigh. He glanced down at her, forced a smile but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Yes,” was all he said.

“Well, that’s just fucking marvellous,” Ewan surprised them all by saying.