Taming Emma (8 page)

“I made a reservation at Basil for dinner tonight, I hope you like Italian.”

“I love it,” she said. Maybe he hadn’t heard her after all. Or maybe he really didn’t want to talk about it. Either way, she decided she wouldn’t be the one to bring it up.

* * *

Luke opened the door and waited for Emma to enter the restaurant ahead of him. She looked stunning in the emerald green dress he’d bought her. It was an above-the-knee length boat-neck dress with long split sleeves and sequined cuffs. She wore taupe pumps and subtle fishnet thigh-high stockings beneath with—his favorite part—a quarter-cup bra. She’d only looked at him when she’d taken it out of the box, but he’d explained she might be more comfortable given the tender state of her breasts after that morning’s rough treatment. The bra lifted her full breasts and pushed the peaks to the fine material of the dress. It took all Luke had to keep the image of her in the sexy underthings at bay. There’d be time enough to play later. First they needed to talk.

They were seated at their table right away and he ordered a bottle of wine while Emma used the ladies’ room. Luke sipped the cool Pinot Grigio while waiting for her to return. Her words earlier that afternoon kept repeating in his mind. She’d told him she loved him and that scared him. No, not that itself; more his own reaction to those three little words. He swore his heart had beaten an extra round as she’d whispered, “I love you” before she’d drifted off to sleep. She’d been so soft, so completely relaxed after her violent orgasm. Leaving her bound with the vibrator inside her had done its job, but maybe too well. He couldn’t have her falling in love with him; it wasn’t a part of the plan. And he certainly couldn’t fall in love with her.

He stood when she returned to the table, still looking a little shy. She remembered well her words, he’d seen that this afternoon when she’d come downstairs. It would have been easier if she didn’t. Should he bring it up? Clear the elephant from the room? His rational mind assured him that it was just endorphins, the rush of excitement, the energy in their sex play. But his heart told him otherwise.

“Every man in the room has his eye on you tonight, Emma,” he said.

She smiled. “I think it’s the dress; you have impeccable taste, Mr. Roark.”

“I think it’s the woman in the dress.” He sipped his drink. The waiter set their plates in front of them and after ensuring they didn’t need anything else, left them alone.

They made small talk while eating. Luke watched her intently throughout the meal and only when they’d finished, and the waiter cleared their plates, did he begin.

“Emma,” he said, not sure how she was going to react to his news, but knowing full well the words he was about to speak were not what she was expecting. “I spoke with Nate today.”

Her smile disappeared and she put her glass down. He could see her entire body tense.

“He told me what happened.”

She picked her half-full glass back up and drank the liquid down.

“I hope you’ll forgive me for doing it, I was worried.”

She took a moment before responding. “You had no right to go behind my back,” she said.

“I wanted to help you and I’m not sorry I did it. You lied to me, Emma. Nate’s been worried; he hasn’t heard from you in two months.”

“What did he tell you?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest, hurt and anger battling for control. He could see the two were at level ground, for now.

“Everything. I know about the rape, the…consequences of the rape.”

A sudden swell of emotion made her chest heave as she sucked in a desperate breath. He couldn’t even say what it was: a baby. A baby that didn’t survive.

“I think I understand what’s going on with you a little better, Emma.”

“I want to go,” she said, searching through her purse and refusing to meet his eyes once she’d found a tissue. She inhaled another deep, shaky breath, dabbed at the corners of her eyes, and turned to him. “I want to go now.” She was remarkably calm.

“I also know about the drugs,” he continued.

“You don’t know anything.” This time she stood.

His hand closed over her wrist. “I know enough to have an idea what you need. Sit down.”

“No.”

“Now, Emma. Sit down. Do it while I’m asking nicely.”

She considered him and he increased the pressure on her wrist just a little. She sat. “I want to go,” she said again.

“Hear me out first, then you can decide what you want.”

She didn’t say anything, but remained seated so he went on. “Nate wanted to come and get you…”

She cut him off. “No…I’m not going with him.”

“I told him I’d talk to you and that you’d call him yourself tomorrow,” he said and watched her physically relax. “He wants to help you, to take care of you…”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I’m not sure I agree with you on that one.” When she opened her mouth, he put up his hand. “But I’m also not sure I agree with what your brother thinks is best.”

That worked as he wanted it to. She remained silent, listening.

“I understand a little better your behavior now that I know this,” he said. “And I think I can help you.”

“I don’t need your help, Luke.”

“I think you do,” he said. “You were raped and you got pregnant, Emma. That was hardly your fault.”

She knew that part, almost believed it. But what happened afterwards was, without a doubt, one-hundred percent her fault.

“I also think you’ve been punishing yourself ever since.”

She scanned the room.

“I know you’ve been using drugs and I understand why, given everything you’ve been through since the accident. I’m not judging you, Emma.”

“I need to get a taxi,” she said.

“I own you for the weekend.”

“I think this nullifies the contract.”

“I’m sorry, Emma, you’re in no shape to go anywhere alone. Besides, it started snowing a little bit ago.”

“I need to use the ladies’ room,” she said, but waited for his nod before standing.

He could see she was losing the battle to keep her emotions buried. They needed to come to the surface, to be dealt with and let go, but that didn’t need to happen here.

“Take your time,” he said.

* * *

She walked through the restaurant and down the corridor to the ladies’ room. But instead of stopping there, she slipped out the door and, hugging her arms to herself, walked the few blocks to the hotel where Damien had brought her the first night, wishing now she had rented a car and driven herself. She asked the valet for a taxi. He must have known not to ask questions as he whistled for a waiting cab and opened the door to let her in.

“Airport, please,” she said.

* * *

Five minutes passed. Then ten. Luke asked for the bill and paid, checking his watch one last time before standing. His mouth was set in a thin line as he traced Emma’s steps to the bathroom. He knocked once before opening the door and calling for her. But he didn’t need to do that. He knew she was gone, didn’t he? She’d run.

“Damn it, Emma!” he muttered, his fists clenched at his sides as he stormed out of the restaurant.

* * *

The first snow had begun to fall over Aspen. It was gorgeous, but Emma couldn’t appreciate its beauty just now. She sat twisting her hands in her lap, her eyes wide on the road but seeing nothing. Why had he called Nate and why had Nate told him? She loved her brother and she knew he loved her, but sometimes, she couldn’t understand him. She could take care of herself. It had been two years since the rape; she was a different person now.

She’d been at a party and high as a kite. She’d been doing some heavy drugs at that point and, to be honest, she didn’t know herself how bad things had gotten, how far she’d gone. She remembered the night as well as the face of the man who’d raped her. They’d been partying together, she knew him; well, that wasn’t really true. She’d seen him at other parties, maybe even flirted a little bit. But she’d said no, she was sure of that. And even if she hadn’t, there was no way she’d been in any shape to say yes. Unless the limp body of a girl too high to talk was a green light to him. When she’d found out she was pregnant, Nate had wanted her to abort the baby. But that was one thing she just couldn’t do.

But she may as well have done what he’d said because she’d been unable to stop with the drugs. As hard as she’d tried, she was addicted. When she was almost three months along, she’d lost the baby and had nearly bled to death in the process. At least that had been enough to scare her straight. She’d been punishing herself ever since, guilty over everything, especially the little life she’d ended before it had even taken its first breath.

The onslaught of tears began at that thought. It always did. At least she could cry in silence these days, even while tears ravaged her face.

“You all right?” the driver asked, glancing in the rear-view mirror.

She nodded. “I…I’m ok,” she lied.

“We’ll be there in a little bit, ma’am. The snow’s slowing us down just a little.”

“Are flights still going out?”

“Just brought someone in before I picked you up. You might get lucky. Where are you off to?”

“Miami,” she said, deciding the moment he’d asked. She’d have to deal with her brother, but at least Celia would be there. She was tired. She’d stupidly hoped Luke would be able to offer her a safe place to rest, but turned out she couldn’t trust him either. “Do you know if it’s snowing in Denver?” She didn’t want to get stuck there and knew she’d have to connect.

“No, just up here, ma’am.”

“Thanks,” she said.

The phone in her purse rang. She picked it out and looked at the display, although she didn’t need to know who it was. She pushed the “ignore” button before shutting it off altogether. She was glad she’d grabbed her wallet with her ID inside, although she hadn’t even stopped to pick up her wrap at the restaurant. She wouldn’t need it in Miami anyway.

* * *

“When I get my hands on you,” Luke said, driving as fast as he could along the slick road. He’d known she couldn’t get far and had stopped at the first hotel in town. The valet had told him she’d taken a taxi to the airport and he hoped he could catch her in time.

She was running. Again, based on what he’d heard from Nate. He recognized the behavior, if he was honest with himself, that is. When he’d confronted her, his intention was to help her, but he’d obviously miscalculated. He’d been stupid to bring it up like he had; he’d known she might close up, but he hadn’t expected her to run. Emma had trusted him, but he’d blown that trust when he’d gone behind her back.

He punched the steering wheel hard. The snow was getting heavier, but he could see the lights of the airport up ahead. No way were flights still going, not anymore. If he was lucky.

It took him another half hour before he finally walked into the airport. He was right; flights weren’t going out anymore. Smiling, he scanned the stranded passengers, but didn’t see her. He walked straight to the counter where a girl worked the computer.

“Miss?” he asked, polite but definitely seductive.

She looked up and her eyes told him it worked. Charming women was one of his specialties. “Yes, Sir?”

“I see that all your flights are canceled. When did the last one go out?”

“Just fifteen minutes ago. They were lucky,” she said.

Shit.

“Can you tell me if my friend made it? I was coming to pick her up, assuming she’d be stranded.”

“Oh, we’re not allowed to…”

“Please…” he said, “you would really help me.” He leaned on the counter, his eyes working their magic.

The girl looked around, but they were alone. “What was her name?”

“Emma Lawson,” he said.

She checked the screen. “Yes, Sir. Last passenger to get on. Oh, Miami. Wish I were her,” the girl joked.

He tried not to let his disappointment and anger show. “Thank you,” he said and turned on his heel. So she was heading to Miami. Well, he’d just have to meet her there. After all, she still owed him a day and a night.

Chapter Eight

“Give her some space, Nate,” Celia whispered, closing the bedroom door and blocking him from entering.

“She’s been gone for two months without a single fucking phone call, Celia. I think she took enough space,” Nate stood his ground, glaring down at his very petite, very pregnant wife who stood, arms folded across her chest, refusing to budge.

“No.”

He exhaled. “Fine. I’ll give her an hour, then she’d better have one hell of an excuse for disappearing like that.”

Celia shook her head at Nate’s retreating form and slipped back into the bedroom. He meant well, she knew it. But his need to protect his sister came across more as smothering to Emma. They were both stubborn as hell and if she didn’t stand between them and remain the voice of reason, they’d be at each other’s throats. The last thing Celia wanted was for Emma to disappear again.

“We’ve been really worried,” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Emma sat up, drinking a cup of tea. She looked like shit. She’d shown up in the middle of the night dressed in a cocktail dress, her hair and makeup a disaster, her eyes puffy from crying. She’d taken a flight out of Aspen last night but she hadn’t told Celia why yet. Well, Celia was determined to find out.

“I know. I’m sorry, Celia,” Emma said. She’d slept for a few hours and at least looked a little better, minus the puffy, pink eyes. “I…can’t Nate just leave me alone? I’m not a baby anymore.”

“He loves you and is scared to death of losing you, honey. I understand how you feel, he can definitely be…obsessive. But trust me, he thinks he’s doing what’s best for you.”

“I know. I just wish he’d listen to me for a change.”

“Well, to be honest, showing up in the middle of the night like you did just solidifies, at least in his eyes, that he’s right.”

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t have come…” she replied, glaring at Celia.

“You know damn well I’m not saying that. But can you understand how your brother might see it?”