The Wedding Dress (24 page)

Oh, God….

She’d never felt so wild. Never known a kiss could burn her up inside and she’d only want to plunge deeper and deeper into the heart of the flame.

She jumped, startled, as Jared pulled away from her. A clatter of metal against stone jangled her nerves. Both of his powerful hands closed on her arms, his nostrils flaring, his breath hot, ragged, emotion raging in those glen-green eyes.

Shame washed through Emma. Had he just been trying to get back some of his own? Salvage his pride after she tricked him? And she’d fallen for it, big-time. Kissed him, really kissed him…like she meant it. As if she were easy….

One of the sexiest women in the world, the tabloids had called her. She’d given him reason to believe those rumors now. God, if he only knew the truth.

She tried to bounce back, think of something to say. But she felt stripped bare.

“What do you know? I
am
a bloody genius,” Jared growled, his hands sliding roughly up her arms. “I’ve invented a move that doesn’t just disarm my opponent. It disarms me as well.”

Emma marveled at his confession. Her heart swelled as she glimpsed real passion and surprise on his rugged face.

“So, the question is, what the hell am I supposed to do now?” Jared’s voice, whiskey-warm, caressed her as he ran his hand up to her throat, skimmed her cheek with his thumb.

“I suppose there’s no help for it,” Emma breathed. “We’ll have to resort to…”

“To what?”

“Hand-to-hand combat.”

She pressed her palm to the rugged contours of his jaw, slid her fingertips across the light stubble on his cheek to where his lips tempted her, so sensual, unyieldingly masculine and yet sensitive in a way far more dangerous to her heart.

“This is a bad idea.” Jared caught her finger lightly between his teeth. His tongue touched the responsive pad, hot, wet, melting Emma deep inside. She moaned softly, pulling her finger away. “We’re going to be stuck together in this tower for at least three more weeks,” Jared warned.

“Actually more like twenty-four days.” She twisted his wrist to see the watch he’d forgotten to remove. “Six hours and…seventeen minutes…”

He smiled just a little. “Enjoying our time together so much you’re counting the seconds before you can get away from me, are you?”

“You’ve been so charming I couldn’t help it. But there’s still time. You can try to change my mind.”

“Emma…” Jared cleared his throat. “I know this is…nothing new to you. Having a man want you like this.”

“Like what?” The fragile part of her curled inward, trying to protect itself.

“For sex.”

Emma tried to shrink back into the wall, but the stone held her, trapped her. She wanted to push past Jared, but she wouldn’t let him see he’d left her bleeding.

“Sex,” she echoed.

“Where you come from…it doesn’t mean a damned thing. In Hollywood.”

“Of course not.” A steel band clamped around Emma’s chest.

“I know you’ve had your choice of blokes.”

“Whole armies of men. You should see the line at my bedroom door.”

“I don’t mean to hurt you. I just…if we’re going to do this, I want it to be real. Honest.”

“That’s the Butler I know and love. A regular Sir Lancelot.”

“Damn it, Emma, I just…” Something naked shone in his eyes, something that kept her from slapping him in the face, stalking away, freezing him out the way she’d frozen out men so many times before.

“Just what?”

“I’ve never wanted a woman so much. I’ve never…hell…I can’t tell you how many nights I’ve lain awake, thinking about us in this bed together.”

She peered up at him, mesmerized, silent.

“The only thing that kept me sane was…knowing it was all a mad fantasy. You’d never want me. A woman like you couldn’t possibly…”

“And you know me so well. Probably researched me the way you do everything else. Or had Davey look up my name on the Internet.”

“Damn it, aren’t you listening?” He gave her a little shake. “You weren’t supposed to want me.”

Her chin hitched up a notch. “Maybe I don’t want you. Maybe I’m a better actress than you thought. First I get the sword to your throat and now…now I trick you into believing I want to fall into bed with a—a virtual stranger.”

Except he wasn’t a stranger. Not anymore. Davey had shared too many of his secrets.

“You’re angry.”

“Why would I be angry when I’ve just given the performance of a lifetime?” she said, suddenly brittle. “I obviously had you fooled.”

“Is that the way of it, then? It was all an act?” Jared’s jaw clenched. “I don’t believe you. The way you kissed me back. It was real.”

“Of course it was.” Emma rolled her eyes, trying to forget the piercing awareness that had stunned her, sensations sharper, sweeter than anything she’d ever felt before—even with Drew.

Jared winced, but damned if pride would let her back down.

“Gotcha again, Butler.” She licked her index finger, then scratched an imaginary point in the air inches from Jared’s nose. “Score two for the rotten actress.”

Jared searched her face as if trying to put the lie to her words. Emma felt his gaze hammer against defenses she swore she wouldn’t let him see beyond.

Did she imagine it? Or did she see him draw back, too, behind the barrier Davey had told her about—Morgause’s invisible wall holding King Arthur prisoner, separating him from the world.

“I’ll not be troubling you that way again,” Jared said, dead quiet, dead certain. The words somehow sharper because they were.

“Good,” Emma said, chin jutting at a stubborn angle. “After all. I do have my standards.”

Sure you do, Emma,
a voice mocked in her head. An empty bed. An empty life. If Jared only knew.

There’d never been any man but Drew. Her first. Her only.

Until she’d almost let Jared Butler…

Thank God they’d both come to their senses. She crossed to the fur-draped bed, plopped herself in the middle of it. She pounded her pillow once with her fist, then turned her back pointedly toward the man who still stood watching her.

If this were the Middle Ages, she could name a champion, have someone make Jared Butler eat his words. The knight of the sea she’d glimpsed her first night in the castle. The warrior wouldn’t be a ghost. He’d be real and alive, a noble man who’d fight for a lady’s honor….

But her only champions were a ragged dog and a boy who worshiped the ground Jared Butler walked on. No, she thought, remembering all Davey had told her. She wouldn’t put Davey in a position where he had to choose sides. After all, in a few weeks she’d be gone. Jared would still be part of the boy’s life, Davey’s hero, his mentor, his friend.

Emma’s chest ached with a loneliness so fierce she wished she hadn’t let Davey keep Captain for the night. What good was finally having a dog of her own if she couldn’t hide a few bitter tears in its coat? But who was she kidding, anyway? Her dog would probably be on the other side of the room licking Jared’s hand. Captain had fallen almost as hard for Jared Butler as she had.

At least Captain had an excuse for making a complete fool of himself over Jared, Emma told herself sharply. The idiot dog had tried to fight two rabid collies. It was obvious Captain had rocks for brains.

So what’s your excuse?

I wanted to be like any other woman for just one night. Wanted to make love with a man who…who could see me. Really see me. Just Emma….

Oh, he’d seen her all right. As some hot Hollywood babe who fell into bed on a whim.

I know you’re used to this…a man wanting you…It doesn’t mean anything….

At least he doesn’t know how much he hurt me, Emma tried to comfort herself. But that didn’t change the truth.

She’d let Jared Butler slip past her guard with far more than his sword, and he’d managed to cut her.

To the heart.

Chapter Thirteen

J
ARED GROUND HIS FINGERTIPS
into his burning eyes, trying for the hundredth time to clear them enough to actually bring the site map on his desk into focus. A forlorn hope, after what he’d suffered the past three nights.

Sure, he’d researched torture devices, as any archaeologist excavating a castle site should. But he’d never expected to become an expert in a technique that didn’t require thumb screws or iron boots filled with boiling oil. Didn’t require anything at all except keeping the poor son of a bitch awake until he’d confess to any crime in the world just to get a decent night’s sleep.

And to add insult to injury, while he was in here trying to work, Emma was curled up in a chair in Davey’s tent, sleeping with her infuriating little dog.

Jared swore, burying his face in his hands. Not that it did any good. Emma’s image was still branded into his eyelids, her eyes wide with anticipation just before he kissed her.

He shifted in the uncomfortable chair he’d hoped would keep him awake. But no matter how cramped his position or how badly his muscles ached from nights on the damp stone floor, he could still feel her gasp of pleasure as his tongue slipped into her mouth, her breasts yielding against the wall of his chest, her hands on his face—so feminine, so eager.

And what had he done when that incredible, sexy woman had been melting in his arms, as hungry for him as he was for her? Had he stuck to kissing her mindless? Stripping all those irritating clothes out of the way? No. Jared Butler, genius, had to strike up a bloody conversation.

And ruin everything.

Why? Because he’d wanted to get the parameters of this nonrelationship straight before he had what promised to be the best sex of his life. Jared groaned. It wasn’t as if Emma was some starry-eyed twenty-year-old ready to rush off and buy
Bride
magazine the morning after. True, she had admitted to wanting children someday.
That
should have been enough to cool his blood once and for all. The last thing on earth Jared Butler wanted was a child.

The better part of his nature
should
have kicked in, hoped she would realize that dream in the future with some other man after the passion keeping Jared awake burned out, as it inevitably would. But the dragon inside him felt a killing urge every time he imagined another man’s hands on her body.

It’s only because you’ve never had her,
he told himself.
It’s nothing but science. A throwback to primitive times when a man’s biological purpose was to spread his genes with the most perfect female specimen possible. Once I’ve had sex with her, the urgency will fade. For both of us….

Odds were, she’d be as relieved as he was once the compulsion to shag each other blind passed. They were two consenting adults whose pheromones flung their animal attraction meters off the charts. Once they got it out of their systems…

He rubbed his fingertips against his eyes, trying to blot out the images of just how much fun they would have had in the process.

Maybe I didn’t want you…maybe I just gave the best performance of my life…
her denial echoed.

But the words no longer stung. No matter what she’d said, he knew damned well if he’d handled things differently, they would’ve spent that night in the tower together exploring every curve and dip and hollow of each other’s naked bodies.

Instead, he’d taken the long road to hell until now he was sure he could write a whole new doctoral thesis on the misery of sexual frustration.
If
he could stay awake long enough to find the shift key on his laptop.

“You’re brilliant all right,” he muttered. “A real—”

A knock on the trailer door made Jared grind his teeth. The last thing he wanted was company, but barring the students from his office until Emma left Scotland was hardly an option. “Come in,” he called.

Davey. The kid had been tiptoeing around him lately as if he were walking blindfolded through a minefield. But whatever mission he was on at the moment must be stronger than his instinct for mere self-preservation. The lad clutched something in his hands.

“I was going over office stuff and found a few things you missed. Some order forms you need to sign, and some faxes from Mr. Robards asking how Emma’s training is coming along. I, uh, wrote something that should keep him off your back for a while—about how you’re running lines with Emma and—”

“You’re answering
my
correspondence?” Jared demanded.

“Well, you sure aren’t at the moment! You keep forgetting and—well, I thought maybe I could help.”

Jared checked his aggravation. Davey was right. “I’ll read these over. You can send them in the morning. That should buy us another few days.”

“That’s what I thought.” Davey fiddled with the other objects in his hands. If Jared didn’t know better, he’d think the kid was trying to keep him from seeing what they were.

“Davey,” Jared said, more gently. “Thanks.”

The lad lit up at the praise. Nothing like those puppy dog eyes to make Jared feel like a real bastard.

“Chief, is there sometime we could talk?”

Jared sighed and gave the kid a rueful smile. “Might as well do it now,” he conceded, closing his aching eyes. “I’m not getting any work done.”

“You look, uh, tired. The floor up in Emma’s room is pretty hard, huh?”

Not as hard as my…
Stop it, Butler, he warned himself. Don’t tell the kid your hormones are in charge.

“Know what I do sometimes to help me go to sleep?” Davey asked. “I watch…um, movies.”

“Thanks for the suggestion, but the shite you kids watch would probably make me brain-dead. Now, did you come here to measure the bags under my eyes or did you have a question?”

Jared hadn’t thought he could feel any worse. Davey’s defiant expression dashed that theory. “I didn’t use to need a reason to talk to you, before you turned in to Attila the Scot,” he accused.

Jared chuckled wearily, trying to put the boy more at ease. “Attila the Scot, eh? An apt description. But why don’t I think it’s a Davey Harrison original?”

“Emma came up with it.”

“Of course she did. And probably a few hundred more nicknames that would have had my gran coming at my mouth with a bar of soap.”