Page 62 of The Duke's Virgin

I skimmed the article, a pulse throbbing in my temple, reading, hoping for an answer to…something.

I didn’t even know the question.

But I was looking for it.

The article didn’t tell me anything, though. Well, except for what I’d already figured out. The two of them had been photographed together at an event.

A charity gala. Emmett had been brought in for the children at the hospital benefiting from the event. I didn’t know why Stacia was there, but judging by the list of people mentioned, it was obvious a number of people attended, from local celebrities down to politicians.

They could have just been there together.

It wasn’t like there could be anything there anyway. Emmett had just gotten out of the hospital a week earlier. Stacia had left me in Montreal just two weeks ago.

This didn’t mean anything.

Besides, it wasn’t like it really mattered in the end. It couldn’t. We were who we were, and it wasn’t like I’d been particularly kind to her, especially after she’d helped out the way she had.

I shifted my gaze to Emmett, the wide, familiar smile on his face.

I couldn’t be mad at him either. He didn’t know.

Because I hadn’t told him. I hadn’t wanted to talk about her when I was there with him in Montreal. I’d told myself if I stopped thinking about her, it would be easier to just…stop thinking about her.

And here I was glaring at the screen because the woman I wanted was smiling at the man I considered my best friend.

Twenty-One

Stacia

“Hello, Mom.”I rubbed my temple with my free hand, holding the phone to my ear as I walked through the brownstone, searching for my black heels. Of course, I’d already found two pairs of black heels, but neither were the ones I was looking for—I wantedthatparticular pair.

Emmett and I were going to dinner and then hitting a club, and I wanted my comfortable, sexy heels.

“Darling. I’d like you to join us for dinner tonight. We’ll be meeting a couple of friends and their son.”

“I’ve already got plans, Mom, but thanks. Besides, I’m joining you for brunch tomorrow.”

“Just because we’re seeing you tomorrow doesn’t mean we can’t see you today. But if you already have plans…” She kept her voice light. Her pause was so slight, it was hard to pick up on, but I knew her too well. I wasn’t surprised when she asked in a frost-edged voice, “Are you going out with that…racer again?”

“His name isEmmett, Mom. And the last time I checked,racerwasn’t a dirty word.” Irritated for reasons I couldn’t describe, I said something else I never thought I’d say. “It’s not like I’m going out to dinner with a pimp or a drug dealer.”

“So, youaregoing out with him.” She huffed out a breath. “Really, Stacia. Do you have any idea what people think?”

“Do you have any idea how little Icare?” Even as I said it, I was surprised.

She was too. Her sharp intake of breath made that clear.

“I’m sorry,” I said stiffly. A part of me was, even as another part wasn’t.

“I’dhopeso. What has gottenintoyou?”

Irritation still prickled at me, needling like a fine row of teeth, and I clamped it under control before answering. “I’m just a little frustrated at how you’re talking about a friend of mine, Mom. He’s a nice man, and we have fun together. I don’t see why you have problems with him.”

“I’m sure he’s perfectlynice,and if it’s just friendship, of course, that’s acceptable.” She hesitated.

I knew why she waited. She wanted me to tell her that, ofcourse,Emmett was only a friend.

I kept my mouth tightly closed.

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