Taming Emma (12 page)

“You’re very suspicious.”

“It’s not that. I trust you, actually. I believe that your intentions are good.” She did. “Maybe it’s because you and my brother are friends or that you know so much about what happened with me. I don’t know, Luke, but I trust you. Now let me help you. What were you so agitated about talking to your aunt?”

He studied her for a long time, as if battling over what to do. “Emma, it’s not something I want to talk about.”

“What, don’t you trust me?” she asked, more as a joke at first.

“It’s not that.”

When he didn’t elaborate, she shook her head. “It’s exactly that,” she said. “What, do you think I’m going to judge you? I don’t understand, Luke. You buy my contract for a pretty penny, then you chase me halfway across the country when I run. I’ve done things with you I never in my life thought I’d do. Now you’ve got me here, in your house, kneeling at your feet and calling you Master. I’m not sure how much more there needs to be before you can trust me. If this is going to work…”

He cut her off. “If what’s going to work?” He set his fork down and turned to her. He was angry. It was a controlled, cold rage.

She shuddered at his abrupt remark but didn’t back down. She’d push him; if he wasn’t brave enough, she’d have enough courage for both of them. “You want to
see
me, right?” Her own anger matched his.

His lips tightened, but he nodded once.

“Well, that goes both ways. I want to see you too.” She decided to take a chance. She rose from the floor, slid into a chair, and winced. “I know what I said the other day. I remember. And I think you do too.”

He still didn’t speak, but she swore she could see beads of perspiration along his hairline.

“One of us has to do it, right? Go first?” Was she making a mistake? She wouldn’t know until she said it, but she knew she couldn’t walk away and pretend she didn’t feel what she was feeling. “I have feelings for you, Luke, and it’s not a teenage crush anymore. With you, I feel things I never have with anyone else, ever, and I think you feel the same. You fucking flew across the country to get me back! That has to mean something.”

He tensed, and when he spoke his voice was quiet, cold. “It’s natural for you to think you have feelings for me given the circumstances. I don’t want to hurt you, Emma, but I don’t feel the same. You read too much into my coming to get you. I only intended that you fulfill your obligation, that’s all. Like you said, I paid a pretty penny.”

She wondered if he saw her flinch.

He stood and she watched, absolutely not believing her eyes. “I think I made a mistake.” He walked inside, then turned at the balcony door. “Your clothes are in the studio. Get dressed. I’ll take you home.”

It was like he’d punched her right in her belly. She stared at the empty space he’d just occupied. What had happened? A few hours ago, they’d been closer than she’d ever been to anyone in her life. He’d told her he wasn’t just anyone. He’d found out what had happened to her and he’d still wanted her. And she’d trusted him.

One tear slid from her eye and her heart felt like someone, no, it felt like Luke was squeezing it in the palm of his hand, crushing it.

Emma got up, walked slowly to the studio, and got dressed. He stood waiting for her, car keys in hand, and front door open. She wasn’t going to fight him and she wasn’t going to argue or make a scene. Instead, numb and cold, she hugged her arms to herself and walked ahead of him into the elevator, then out to his car.

They drove in silence, neither looking at the other, until he pulled up in front of Nate’s house and she reached for the door handle. She paused and turned to him, opening her mouth to say something. But when she only met his profile, she closed it again and climbed slowly out of the car. He didn’t even wait for her to unlock the door and go inside before driving off. He apparently couldn’t get away from her fast enough.

Emma closed the door behind her. The light was on in the kitchen. She looked around at the strange scene. A pot of soup simmered on the stove, or at least the last of what was once soup did. She turned the gas off, but burned her hand when she tried to pick up the pot and put it in the sink.

“Nate?” she called out, taking note of the half-eaten plates of food on the table and the fork on the floor. “Celia?”

No answer. She went to the patio where the door still stood open, but no one was there. “Nate? Where are you? Celia?”

Her heart pounded. She took the stairs two at a time but knew they wouldn’t be there. Something was wrong and all Emma could think of was the baby. Something had happened.

“Celia!” she screamed, opening their bedroom door. Empty again.

Using the phone on the bedside table, she dialed Nate’s cell. He picked up but didn’t say anything.

“Nate, is that you? Are you there?”

She heard a choking sound. “Nate?” she asked, tears now gushing down her face. Her brother was crying on the other side of the phone. “Where are you? Where’s Celia? What’s happened?”

“The baby…” His sob made her cry out.

“What?” she screamed.

“It was too early…”

“Where are you?” She cut him off.

“Brandywine Hospital.”

“I’ll be right there.”

* * *

Luke’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel. He forced thoughts of Emma from his mind as he sped home. Evelyn’s call had caught him off guard. He shook his head at the complication his life had become. He thought he’d effectively cut off the first ten years of his life, but apparently the amputation hadn’t been thorough enough.

His biological father, David Lyons, hadn’t been abusive from the start. At least Luke didn’t remember violence until after he’d turned six. But maybe it had been going on all along and he was just too young to see it. He remembered feeling afraid of his father, but he attributed that to what he’d seen him do to his mother.

They lived just outside of London and his father was a well-respected, successful, powerful attorney. His mother was a beauty, a kept woman, and Luke completed their “perfect” family. To all outward appearances, they were just that—perfect. But behind closed doors, his father was a wife beater. Until he added child abuse to the list, that is.

Evelyn was his father’s sister and she and Luke’s mother, Wynona, were close in age and had become good friends. Evelyn had suspected that her brother might be violent behind closed doors, but hadn’t wanted to believe it. Wynona had hidden the evidence of her beatings well and was terrified of her husband. But when Evelyn had found her on the eve of Luke’s tenth birthday, beaten to the point she couldn’t use her right arm, she knew she had to do something.

But Wynona had resisted. Her own beginnings were vague, to say the least, and she had no money of her own. She depended on David for everything. She’d tolerated the beatings for a few more months, but when he’d beaten Luke that first time, both Wynona and Evelyn knew they had to get out fast before he did irreparable damage to Luke.

Evelyn had helped them run and had kept them hidden from Luke’s father. His father hadn’t even known the extent of her involvement in their disappearance. Before Luke turned eleven, he and his mother had new identities. She’d met Keenan Roark less than one year later. Keenan had lost his wife a few years prior and was raising Jake and Alec on his own. Keenan and Wynona were a natural fit for one another and although it had taken her some time, she’d confessed her story to him and he’d taken her in, even marrying her and adopting Luke as his own son. Luke took the Roark name and thought he’d locked the door on his past. But Evelyn’s call told him clearly that wasn’t the case.

He walked into his apartment and set his keys down. The smell of the ruined curry saturated his senses, reminding him once again of the disastrous turn of events. If only she hadn’t heard his conversation with Evelyn, he’d be making love to her now in his bed.

Stop it
, he thought to himself. He was not going there.

Luke cleared the table and put everything into the dishwasher before retreating to his study. He couldn’t think about Emma now. His father was dying, that was what Evelyn had said. So why did he care? Hadn’t he always thought David Lyons could rot in hell? He’d never spoken about those years of his life, not with his new dad or with his brothers, although he suspected Keenan had shared some details with Jake and Alec.

He sat at his desk and switched on the lamp. From inside a desk drawer, he retrieved an old photograph he kept hidden there. It was one of him when he was just two. His mom smiled a huge smile into the camera while holding his hand and his dad had his hands on her shoulders. He was smiling too.

Luke shook his head and picked up the phone.

“Evelyn,” he said when she answered.

* * *

Emma drove Celia’s VW Bug to the hospital. Once there, she parked and went inside, heading for the elevators.

“I’m here, Nate, where are you?” she said into her cell phone.

“Maternity. I’ll meet you at the elevators.”

He sounded better, which gave her hope. “Anything new?” she dared to ask.

“No.”

The elevator doors opened. “I’ll see you in a minute. I’m just getting into the elevator.”

Nothing new was ok, right? Was better than things going the wrong way. She tapped her foot for the seconds-long ride up and when the doors opened, she ran straight into Nate.

“Hey,” he said, catching her by the shoulders.

“Hey.” She searched his face. When she’d spoken to him earlier, he’d explained how Celia had complained about cramps that afternoon. “How are Celia and the baby?”

“Celia’s ok, she’s recovering after the C-section. Nate Jr.…”

“Nate Jr.?” She smiled and cried at the same time.

Nate smiled but, although his eyes were red, didn’t cry. “He’s so small, Em.” Nate turned away. “Celia was complaining about feeling strange, but when I pushed, she said it wasn’t anything. We were about to have dinner.” Now the tears started. “I’d just put the plates out and when I heard her fork fall, I turned to find her white as a sheet, clutching her stomach. We got here as fast as we could.”

Emma put his hand in both of hers as they reached Celia’s door. Nate opened it and they stood for a moment watching her while she slept.

“Can I see the baby?”

Nate nodded and led her to the NICU. Her mouth opened at the sight of the tiny baby, skinny arms and legs, a diaper too big, with tubes attached in too many places. Nate Jr. lay still, sleeping. Thoughts of her own baby, now long gone, occupied her mind for a moment, but Nate needed her now. He and Celia both needed her.

“He’s strong, look at him. He’ll be ok, Nate. They deal with this stuff all the time here, it will be ok.”

Nate wrapped his arms around her and hugged her to him. “I’m scared, Em,” he said.

She held him tight while his body shuddered. “It’s ok. It’s ok.”

* * *

She spent the next two days at the hospital, going home for changes of clothing for herself and Nate, but coming back as soon as possible. Celia was healing, but as strong as she tried to pretend she was, Emma could see the worry in her eyes. Watching the two of them together, her brother so tender as he held Celia or the two visited the baby, it was sad and beautiful all at the same time.

She couldn’t help thinking about Luke, about how things could have been with him, and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t push those painful thoughts away. Celia had been right when she’d said it was time to stop running. It was time for her to be here now. Be here for her family, be strong for them, but also be here for herself. Face her own pain and deal with the losses of the last few years. Luke was the tip of the iceberg and that hurt the worst now. She was in love with him; she knew it in her heart. Whether or not he felt the same, she wasn’t sure. He’d told her she was mistaken about them, that he’d made a mistake coming to get her. But she knew that was fear and for the first time in a long time, she could see she wasn’t the only one too afraid to face her past or her future.

But she also knew she couldn’t do a damn thing unless he wanted her help. And that part hurt. She realized as time passed it wasn’t that Luke didn’t trust her. He was afraid, just as she had been, of letting anyone see his not-so-pretty side. But it was like he’d told her himself, there’s nothing ugly in truth. There’s nothing dirty there. She knew she would accept him, whatever it was he thought was so awful. But he needed to figure that out for himself.

Chapter Eleven

For the next few weeks, Emma cooked and cleaned and took care of Celia. Nate went back to work a few days after Celia came home. Nate Jr. was doing well, growing and getting stronger. They visited the hospital daily, Emma driving Celia there and staying until Nate joined. She’d then go home. Those were the loneliest moments for her. When she left the hospital and drove home, the sadness would start to creep in, but when she walked into Nate and Celia’s big, empty house, it took all she had not to just go to her room, get into her bed, and hide from the world.

It was when she came home one of these nights that she saw his car. Her heart raced when she figured out it was Luke waiting outside of Nate’s house. Her hands closed tight around the steering wheel and she considered driving away, but hope wouldn’t let her. When the garage door went up, Luke got out of his car and stood watching while she turned onto the driveway and slid the car into the garage. Emma shut off the engine, took a deep breath, and stepped out to face him.

He walked tentatively toward her, his eyes on hers the entire time. They both stopped, leaving half a driveway between them.

“Emma,” he began. “I…I owe you an apology.”

Was that the only reason he’d come? To apologize? She blinked several times, forcing herself to take deep breaths. “No, you don’t, Luke,” she said after some time. “I assumed something that was never there; that’s not your fault.” She wasn’t angry with him, not really. Yes, he’d hurt her with his words, his actions, but she couldn’t blame him for that. He wasn’t ready to share himself with her and as much as he’d wanted and expected her to, even if she demanded that he do the same, she couldn’t force it.