“Yes, I have,” Mason admitted. It was at a dinner party back in London, three years ago. At the age of fifty, Emma was even more enchanting, smart, and funny than he expected. He’d had a crush on her since he was a teenager.
“I hate you,” Ines said, and took a large drink of wine. She looked glum.
“Come now. Cheer up. You’ll meet her someday.”
Shamus appeared bearing a tray.
Mason watched her delighted expression as they were served the appetizer of osetra with crab meat and avocado. The black sea caviar was his favorite, and for a moment he worried that she would not be too fond of it.
“Mmmm,” she murmured, closing her eyes briefly as she took her first bite.
She was just as enthusiastic about the glazed oysters and the French onion soup with brioche. “Oh my God,” she said between
