Heatwave (10 page)

Somewhere in the back of her mind, where their labored breathing and the rustle of denim as she wiggled out of her shorts pierced her thin thread of consciousness, she marveled at her impatience.

She hooked her now-bared thigh over his hip and brought him close. His mouth caught hers again, capturing her moan of carnal pleasure as his fingers slipped beneath the band of her panties. He teased and coated her feminine folds with her own moisture, alternating the pressure until her body quaked with the need for release.

She tore her mouth from his and clung to his wide shoulder. Her breath came in sharp hard pants as her nerve endings burned and every muscle in her body tightened in anticipation. Just when she believed she’d never survive the excruciating ecstasy for one more second, he eased past her slick folds and slid his fingers deep inside her.

She called his name, crying out from the sheer earth-shattering force of her release. Her hips jerked hard against his hand, over and over as her body clenched tightly around him. He whispered indecipherable words to her, but her muddled senses only managed to heed the gentle, coaxing timbre of his voice and the warmth of his breath against her ear. Wave after wave of sheer bliss tore through her body, rendering the final barriers surrounding her heart to nothing more substantial than kindling, stripping her of any remnants of doubt.

The sweetness with which he eased her back to earth made her heart ache. As her breathing returned to a less life-threatening level, a twinge of embarrassment due to her wild, almost primal response to his incredibly selfless lovemaking, nudged her.

He must have sensed her retreat, because he tucked
his hand beneath her chin and gently urged her head up until she had no choice but to look at him. His tender smile, the gentleness of his gaze, the caring way he righted what was left of her clothing were her undoing. Tears she didn’t understand blurred her vision.

“Don’t be embarrassed, honey,” he said quietly. “You’re a beautiful, passionate woman, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

A chill passed over her exposed skin and she trembled. “I’m not ashamed.” Much.

He moved away to retrieve the T-shirt she’d flung halfway across the room, then helped her slip it over her head. She eased off the counter to recover her shorts, wondering how on earth she was supposed to explain the riotous emotions crowding her?

His hand settled on her arm when she attempted to scoot past him. She needed space. Time. Time to regain her composure and locate her common sense. Time to tamp down her stupid heart lodged in her throat.

“Emily? What’s going on?”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” she said, knowing she was making a mess of things, but she couldn’t think straight when he was so close. It was only supposed to be about sex.

Confusion filled his gaze when she walked to the opposite end of the kitchen. “What specifically wasn’t supposed to happen?” he asked.

I wasn’t supposed to fall for you
. “Let’s talk about something else, okay?”

He frowned and moved slowly toward her. “Let’s not. Do you regret what just happened?”

She let out a sigh. “Of course not.” She couldn’t possibly regret something so pure and beautiful. No, her regrets stemmed from her inability to protect herself from world-class heartache.

“Then what’s the problem?”

Why did he have to be so relentless? Why couldn’t he be as predictable as all the others? Oh no. Not Drew. He just
had
to be different, memorable, sneaking under her skin and stealing her heart when she least expected it. “My emotions are running a little high, that’s all.”

He braced his feet apart and folded his arms over his massive chest. Just her luck, she’d come up against a determined, immoveable hunk of man. “I’m listening.”

He might be listening, and regardless of how incredibly touching his attention was, she’d wager he’d be running to save his hide from a love-struck female in no time flat.

“It really doesn’t make any sense.” She shook her head, as if the action
would
make sense out of the senseless. “I mean, I’ve only known you for what? Five or six days?”

She hurried around him, and made a beeline for the table, slinking behind it as if the heavy wood would save her from herself.

“Emily?” he prompted, his impatience thinly veiled. “
What
doesn’t make any sense?”

She pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “The way I feel about you right now,” she admitted in a rush.

The cocky, self-assured grin of a true scoundrel
curved his devilish mouth. “Yeah?” He circled the table, closing the distance between them. “And how is that?”

The fateful words hovered on her tongue. In the face of his teasing arrogance, her common sense magically appeared, allowing her to keep the words in place.

“Forget it.” She smiled up at him. “Your ego doesn’t need feeding. It’s fat enough.”

He laughed and pulled her to him, surrounding her with the musky heat of his body. After tipping her world again with another hot, openmouthed kiss that did nothing to stem the flow of heat already simmering in her veins again, he gazed down at her, the angles of his handsomely chiseled features softened by the tenderness banked in his green eyes. “Nobody ever said it’s supposed to make sense.”

She swallowed.

Hard.

No way were they on the same page. Really, they couldn’t possibly be. Except the gentle, almost possessive way he held her in his arms, told another story entirely. Maybe not one that concluded with happily ever after, but a story that definitely left her with the distinct impression she wasn’t the only one delusional, suffering with illusions of having fallen in love.

E
MILY FASTENED
the onyx bracelet she’d borrowed from her grandmother around her wrist, then took one last critical look in the full-length mirror. Funny, she didn’t look anywhere near as nervous as her twittering insides indicated.

With the bulk of her wardrobe in New York until she made arrangements to ship her belongings, she’d gone shopping. None of her lightweight casual wear she’d packed for what was supposed to have only been a vacation, would’ve been appropriate. If the wedding had been a daytime event, one of her ultracomfortable, soft floral skirts might have sufficed, but an after-five affair required a little more elegance.

After breakfast with her grandmother, she’d taken off for Montana Avenue, browsing through the shops and exclusive boutiques, coveting at least a dozen dresses too far out of her budget, until she’d finally unearthed a rich teal, short-sleeved linen sheath at a deep discount. Her budget willpower deserted her like a rat escaping a sinking ship the moment she spied a pair of to-die-for strappy designer heels in black. A little haggling later, she’d managed to talk the store manager down from the original price tag, but she’d blown the savings on an adorable beaded evening bag.

One more spritz of hair spray to ensure the French twist she’d struggled with for almost an hour remained in place, and she declared herself ready. If only her trembling hands agreed. Her case of nerves couldn’t completely be attributed to the prospect of meeting Drew’s family. Some of the blame lay at his feet. Or rather, at the foot of his bed, because he’d made it perfectly clear she’d be in it once the bouquet had been tossed and the last bottle of champagne had been drained.

She hadn’t seen Drew since that night in the kitchen. There were no evening classes for him to teach on Thursday or Friday and for the purpose of maintaining Drew’s anonymity, Dave Byrd was handling the investigation, so there had been no excuse to see Drew. She’d been busy Thursday night fussing unnecessarily over her grandmother, and last night he’d spent the time with his brothers and friends at Cale’s bachelor party.

He’d surprised her by calling shortly after midnight, and she’d been slightly bemused that he hadn’t sounded the least bit tipsy. She’d teased him about the bachelor party, but he maintained the code of the good ol’ boys club and hadn’t spilled a single detail. Not that she had any right even to question him, but she’d heard enough wild stories from some of the men she used to work with, that she had her suspicions about what really transpired.

She crossed the room to the antique dresser and checked her bag a final time, making sure the little silver foil packets were safely hidden inside the interior
zippered pouch. Her midnight call from Drew had entailed a whole lot more than some gentle teasing, and enough verbal foreplay to leave her with no misconceptions about exactly where she’d be spending tonight.

“No regrets,” she whispered to her reflection. As she had told Annie that morning when she’d called to update her friend on recent events, a night of mutual gratification did not equate to a broken heart. Just because she and Drew were about to officially become lovers on a grand scale did not mean her heart would end up tangled in the sheets. Not much, anyway.

If she continued to analyze the situation, she’d go nuts. She needed to relax now, or she’d spoil the evening instead of embarking on a journey which included incredible lovemaking with a man who stole her breath.

And your heart
.

She ignored her conscience in favor of a deep steadying breath before she yanked open the door to her bedroom, stepped into the hallway and walked confidently into the living room.

Calm.

Serene.

A bundle of nerves.

Grandy rested on the sofa, the cast that ran from her ankle to her knee elevated on a mound of pillows. She listened as Rita discussed the exam she’d given her class the day before. From the way Rita’s voice quavered, she was apparently still quite upset by the results. As Emily had discovered yesterday when she’d
found Rita near tears after the students had departed, the thirty-something instructor blamed herself for her students failing the class. Margo, quite seasoned after years of working for the Norris Culinary Academy, held no such illusions, and blamed summer blues for the barely passing grades of Rita’s students.

“I know it wasn’t a final grade, but I’m just not sure what to do.” Rita’s voice trembled. “I’ve never had to fail so many students at one time.”

“Sounds to me like they weren’t paying attention,” Margo offered helpfully, then looked up at Emily. “My, don’t you look lovely.”

Emily smiled, ignoring the curiosity in the elder instructor’s pale gaze. “Thank you. I didn’t realize you were here.”

“We only stopped by for a short visit,” Rita said before glancing down at her wristwatch. “And we’ve overstayed our welcome.”

Grandy waved her hand at Rita when she stood. “Sit. I’m enjoying the diversion.”

“We really should be going so you can rest.” Margo followed Rita to the door. “Think about what we discussed, Velma.”

“There’s nothing for me to consider.” Grandy’s voice held a barely perceptible chill that snagged Emily’s attention. “I have no interest in retiring.”

“Just think about it,” Margo pressed. “I would love to help out, so if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Emily sat in the chair Rita had vacated and waited
until the door closed behind the other women. “What was that all about?” she asked her grandmother.

“Margo suggested I consider taking on a partner.”

This was news to Emily, but the idea made sense. “And?”

“I’d rather not have a partner.”

Emily nodded and said, “Personally, I think if you wanted a partner, Rita would be more than capable of running the place. At least from what I’ve seen of her this week.” Granted, the woman tended to be a little emotional, but she was competent, organized and she cared about the students.

Grandy let out a sigh. “You’re probably right, but…”

“But—” Emily grinned “—the academy is your baby and you’re not about to turn it loose, right?”

“Something like that.” Grandy laughed. “Now if you were interested…”

“Me?” Now it was Emily’s turn to laugh. “Why all the sudden confidence?”

Grandy reached over and pulled a sheaf of papers from the coffee table. “Before Rita and Margo stopped by, I was reading this status report you wrote. After only one week, you’ve shown me you don’t need to cook in order to operate a cooking school effectively.”

Emily hadn’t done anything special, just put together some data from the records and reports she’d reviewed that week and summarized them for her grandmother’s review. During regular session, school enrollment hovered close to one hundred students. Recently it had dropped nearly forty percent.

Grandy tapped the page with the tip of her finger.
“This ad you put in the
Times
alone has garnered us eight new student applications for the fall semester, and that’s only after two days.”

Emily waved away her grandmother’s praise. “I
am
in advertising, Grandy. All that means is I have a pretty good idea of how to catch someone’s attention. If you could afford radio ads, I suspect you might just double your current enrollment.”

“How much?”

Emily shrugged. “I have a few ideas, but let me do some checking first and I’ll get back to you. But I’ll warn you now, airtime can be fairly expensive. I’d suggest you wait to see what kind of numbers you have for the fall enrollment. If the print ad brings in more students, then I think you could probably justify the expense for the spring semester.”

“Let’s keep it in mind, then.”

She gave her grandmother a look filled with mock sternness. “Maybe Margo isn’t too far off base. You should’ve retired years ago.”

Grandy returned Emily’s stern expression with one of her own. “I don’t teach as much as I used to.”

“The administration alone is a full-time job,” Emily attempted to reason. Eighty years old was long past the age of retirement, although she greatly admired her grandmother’s capabilities. “Maybe you
should
consider at least hiring another instructor or taking on a partner. If not Margo, then talk to Rita.”

Grandy folded her arms. “I don’t know why everyone is suddenly under the misguided impression I’m getting old and feeble.”

Emily laughed despite the seriousness of their conversation. “Older, but never feeble,” she said. She stood and crossed the room, crouching in front of her grandmother. “I love you, Grandy. I’d like to see you take some time to enjoy yourself. Take a few vacations. Travel. At least if you had a business partner, you’d have more freedom.”

“The only partner I’d consider taking on is you, my dear. And you’re not interested, although I really think you should be the one reconsidering.”

Emily stood and smoothed her hands down her dress. “I need to be going or I’ll be late. Where’s Suzette?” she asked, wondering where the caregiver had gone.

“Don’t you think this conversation is over yet, young lady.”

“Yes, ma’am. Suzette?”

“I sent her to the pier for fried shrimp and chips for our supper tonight,” she said with a conspiratorial wink. “She’ll be back any minute now. You go. Don’t keep that handsome fella waiting.”

At that moment, a soft knock at the door announced Suzette’s return. Emily opened the door to the tantalizing aroma of deep-fried seafood, her grandmother’s favorite naughty treat. “You shouldn’t be eating that,” she scolded Grandy. “Do you know how much cholesterol there is in it?”

Suzette, a widowed, middle-aged grandmother of nine, rushed through the living room into the kitchen to set their bounty on the oak table. “If anyone at the agency finds out I even agreed to this, I’d lose my job,”
Suzette teased. “Oh God, Velma. You were right. This is going to be fabulous.”

“Did you remember the coleslaw?” Grandy called.

Confident her grandmother was in capable, albeit conspiratorial hands, Emily reached into her evening bag for her keys. “You two have fun.”

Suzette carried in a lap tray. The china plate nearly overflowed with deep-fried, beer-battered shrimp and French fries.

Emily felt for the zippered enclosure filled with the reminder of the night ahead, then closed the magnetic snap on her bag. “I left Drew’s cell number by the phone,” she told Suzette. “If you need me, call right away.”

“Go.” Grandy shooed her away. “Stop fussing, Emily. We’ll be fine.”

Emily hesitated at the door. Although there hadn’t been any incidents all week, she still worried, more so now that Grandy was home. There hadn’t been any ground gained in the investigations, either, but at least the cops were still sending extra patrols through the area. “Don’t let her talk you out of calling me if she needs anything,” she told Suzette. To her grandmother she said, “I’ll check in with you later.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Grandy warned stubbornly. She closed her eyes and moaned in delight as she bit into a fat shrimp.

“Don’t worry,” Suzette said as she carried her own tray into the living room. “We’re not going to do anything more taxing than play a little Scrabble and watch some television.”

With nothing left to say, Emily opened the door and walked into the sultry warmth of the late-afternoon sunshine. A light breeze teased the leaves of the mulberry tree, a sure sign the sweltering heatwave had finally begun to ebb.

She reached the rental car and smiled to herself, wondering what her grandmother would think of the three condoms tucked inside her purse, then laughed as she slid into the driver’s seat. She’d probably scold her…because she hadn’t brought the entire box.

D
REW HAD KNOWN
Cale and Amanda’s wedding would rival a circus, but couldn’t help but admire his new sister-in-law’s attention to detail in putting it all together, and on such a grand scale, in only three months. Her father, Lawrence Hayes, had spared no expense for his only daughter’s wedding. As many as four hundred guests celebrated the marriage of Cale and Amanda with the finest cuisine prepared by the city’s top chefs. Champagne, rumored to be nothing less than Dom Perignon, which Drew hadn’t touched, flowed freely from an elaborate crystal fountain. The guests were as varied as the music, ranging from the crème de la crème of New York society to blue-collar Americana.

“Are you having a good time?” Drew whispered against Emily’s ear as they swayed with the rhythm of an old love song.

“Hmm,” she murmured. “The best. But my feet are starting to protest.”

He eased away from her to cast a quick glance down at her feet, which looked to be a tad swollen.

“New shoes,” she explained.

“Why don’t we sit this one out and get some air?”

With his hand on her back, he steered her from the crowded dance floor as the music changed to a more lively, upbeat tempo.

“Now this,” she said, “is the best proposition I’ve had in a while.”

He stopped and looked down at her. “You’ve had others?” he asked carefully. Surely that wasn’t jealousy creeping up his back and making his neck tense?

Her smile widened and she laughed. “Hardly,” she said loud enough to be heard over the din of the music. “I was referring to my brush last weekend with the world’s oldest profession.”

The sharp gasp from a pair of blue-haired ladies at a nearby table, followed by narrow eyed stares sent her into a fit of the giggles.

Drew relaxed.

“I hope you weren’t related to them,” she said. Once they cleared the ballroom, she stopped to slip off her shoes. He didn’t bother to tell her she’d never get them back on her feet considering the rate they were swelling. “Otherwise the good impression I made on your aunt was for nothing.”

“You’re safe,” he told her, taking her hand. “I’ve never seen them before.” And probably never would again, nor three-quarters of the other guests in attendance.

The night air was warm, tangy from the sea and
filled with the heavy perfume of roses. They walked quietly along a flagstone path and wandered through the hotel’s famed rose garden until they reached the stone-and-wrought-iron gazebo. Emily sat on one of the lower steps and patted the space next to her. Instead, he sat behind her and urged her to rest her back against him.