Wait for Me / Trust in Me (3 page)

Rather than telling her, Lucas walked over and helped Emma to her feet. Wrapping an arm around her waist again, he murmured, “Lean into me. Try not to put too much weight on that foot.”

Emma was more than willing to lean into Lucas; hell, that had been a long-running fantasy for years! Doing exactly as he instructed, they slowly made their way through the doorway next to the fireplace and Emma gasped at the sight.

Lucas's bedroom.

It was magnificently done in earth tones and the fireplace was open to this room as well. His king-size bed took up one wall, and next to it he had an overstuffed chair with a matching ottoman. The windows ran floor to ceiling, separated by French doors leading out to what looked to be an enormous deck.

“You okay?” he asked.

“What? Oh, yes,” she stammered. “I just stepped the wrong way.”
Liar, liar, liar!
There was no way she was going to tell him how much his bedroom suited him or that she was now imagining him sprawled out in that massive bed.

If Lucas had suspected anything else, he kept it to himself and continued moving Emma toward the master bath. This time Emma forced herself not to react. The bathroom was a wonder of stone tile and marble, with many spa-like features. The shower could easily fit four people and the sunken jetted tub was like a small swimming pool. When she didn't move from his arms, Lucas cleared his throat.

“Oh, thank you. I think I can manage from here,” she said and didn't dare look at Lucas. Emma wanted to smack herself in the head.
Manage
from
here?
It wouldn't matter if the floor was covered in broken glass, there was no way she was asking Lucas to help her! As soon as he removed his arm from around her waist, she missed the support of his strength. Taking a small step forward, she was thankful when she heard the door close. Immediately she sank against the double vanity.

And almost let out a scream.

Whatever she was picturing in her mind about her appearance had been far too generous. The bump on her head was a hideous shade of purple and all her makeup was gone. Her skin was pale and her normally sleek and styled hair was now completely out of control. The curls that she took painful care to straighten were a riotous mess around her face.

Fabulous.

Just abso-freakin-lutely fabulous.

“I am never taking a vacation again,” she chanted as she hopped across the bathroom to take care of business. By the time she was back in front of the vanity, Emma wished she had her overnight bag with her. At least then she would have been able to fix her face and put her hair up in a ponytail or something.

“Well, it's not like he ever found you attractive before,” she reminded herself. Doing her best to stay off of her foot, Emma carefully hopped out of the bathroom and was almost back in the living room when Lucas spotted her.

“What the hell?” he said as he stormed toward her. “Why didn't you call me?”

“It wasn't necessary.”

“Really?” he asked sarcastically.

“Yes, really,” she said defiantly as she put her sore foot firmly on the ground and bit back a curse at the pain that shot up her leg. “I told you before I don't need you waiting on me. I'll be fine.”

Lucas's face was a portrait of barely concealed rage. He towered over her five-foot-four frame and glared down into her now wide blue eyes. “I am not going to keep having this same argument with you tonight, Emma,” he said in a tone so low that it was nearly a growl. “You cannot possibly be this stubborn.”

“Really? You want to lecture me on being stubborn?” she snapped back. “Because let me tell you something, Lucas, you wrote the book on being stubborn!”

He wanted to argue, he really did, but he was too taken aback at her words. Honestly, Lucas couldn't remember the last time anyone had talked back to him or dared to challenge him. Since his injury, people took pity on him or tried to be upbeat and encouraging; this was the first time anyone told him to his face that he had a problem.

He kind of liked it.

“Well, it's a good thing we're not talking about me then, isn't it?”

Now it was Emma's turn to growl. “Look, I don't know how it is that I ended up here at your place rather than your folks' but I am certainly not an invalid.” Lucas arched one dark eyebrow at her and then pointedly looked at her head, then her foot. “I'm not intimidated by you, Lucas. I know that right now it all looks bad and I'm not going to lie to you, I feel like I ran into a brick wall.”

“You basically did.”

“But,” she interrupted, “I am a grown woman and can take care of myself. I don't need you to carry me around or treat me like I'm going to break.”

“Your ankle could be broken,” he reminded her.

“Still bringing that sunshine, huh?” she asked, and Lucas finally smiled again. “I don't think it's broken. It hurts but I can put some weight on it.” They were silent for a moment and then Emma looked around or rather, toward the door.

“What's the matter?”

“Is the snow still coming down?”

“'Fraid so. Why?”

Emma chewed on her bottom lip for a moment before answering. “Well, it's just that, after I got a look at myself in the bathroom mirror, I was just sort of wishing for my overnight bag. My clothes are dry but a little stiff and I would love to be able to change.”

“I hate to disappoint you, but right now there is no way I would venture out there and down that hill to your car again. That will have to wait until morning.” Lucas knew he was one hundred percent justified in what he was saying, but hated the look of utter dejection on Emma's face. Without another word he walked into the bedroom, coming back out in less than a minute.

“I don't have anything in your size, obviously,” he began, “but I put out some stuff you can change into and if you want, you can take a shower while I finish making dinner. How does that sound?”

“Heavenly,” she replied with a sigh. “Thank you.”

Lucas stood back and let Emma hop back toward the master suite. It killed him to do it, but he wanted her to feel comfortable and to trust in him. If she wanted his help, he would gladly provide it, but as of right now, he was smart enough to realize that she was trying very hard to remain independent. Lucas was a reasonable man. He just wasn't sure how long he could let her keep this up. As soon as he heard the bathroom door close, he reached for his phone and called his father.

“Lucas! This is a surprise. Twice in one day!” his father's voice boomed over the phone.

“Well,” Lucas began, “I had a bit of a surprise myself.”

“Really? What's that?”

“Don't even try to play innocent here, Dad. I think you know perfectly well what surprise I had.”

William stayed silent. Clearly he was waiting for Lucas to take the lead.

“What is the matter with you?” Lucas snapped, stepping into the office off of the kitchen just in case Emma came out and heard him. “How could you make Emma drive up here in a storm?”

“We didn't know there was going to be a storm, Son,” William began calmly.

“Oh, really? Because thanks to your inconsiderateness, Emma got hurt!”

“What? What happened? Is she okay?”

“No, she's not okay,” Lucas snapped. “She has a damn concussion, I think, and a sprained ankle and her car is in a damn ditch! What is wrong with you? How could you do that to her? What was so damn important that you had to risk her safety?”

“I have no excuse, Lucas. I forgot some paperwork that I wanted to look over and I thought I was helping Emma.”

“How was inconveniencing her helping her, Dad?”

“She never takes any time off. I thought if I could at least get her away from the office, I could make sure that she actually did something for herself.”

“Did it ever occur to you that she doesn't take any time for herself because you don't let her?”

“Excuse me?” William said, his tone indignant. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you work her too hard. You don't let her delegate and you treat her as if she is the only one you can trust to do anything.”

“You don't know what you're talking about! You come in what, once a month? And you think that gives you the right to judge?”

“I call it as I see it,” Lucas said simply.

“You're crazy.”

“I don't think so. And all of that is completely not the point. I want to know why it is that she showed up here at my place rather than yours. We don't live so close to one another that she could have made a wrong turn and miraculously showed up here. Now what gives?”

“I don't often give out the address to our house; I'm used to sending stuff to you. I guess I just answered automatically with your address when she asked.”

It was a plausible excuse, Lucas knew, but right now the whole situation still seemed bizarre. He was about to say that again when his father interrupted.

“Is she okay? Where's Emma right now?”

“She's taking a shower.”

“She must not be too hurt then if she's off by herself in the shower.” Lucas could practically hear his father grinning.

“I can't get to her stuff because her car's down in a ditch and believe me, it wasn't easy getting both of us up out of the damn ditch with her unconscious. She just needed to freshen up.”

William hummed his approval. “It's too dangerous to try and get her to a hospital.”

“I know that, Dad,” Lucas said wearily. “I'll keep an eye on her overnight. It's not good to let someone with a concussion sleep too much. Believe me. I know that part well enough.” And right then and there they were both thinking of all of the times Lucas had taken a hard hit while playing football. Lucas had to force himself not to go down that road. “I'll take care of her, Dad, but this discussion is not over.”

“I don't know what you're talking about, Lucas. There's nothing to discuss. I made an honest mistake. I gave her the wrong address. I was completely at fault for not checking the weather, but that's it.”

“Uh-huh. We'll see.”

“Go check on her and I'll call you in the morning to see how she's doing, okay?” Lucas readily agreed, hung up the phone, and headed back into the kitchen to finish their dinner.

How had this day gone so wrong? As much as there were times when he appreciated being isolated and alone, being isolated and alone with Emma was going to be a struggle. When he'd had his arms around her earlier it had felt good—too good. For almost two years Lucas hadn't allowed himself even to think about how it would feel to touch Emma and now that he had, it was going to be hard to forget.

He put the phone down on the kitchen counter, walking toward the back of the house and looking out at the property. It was pitch-black out now, and the snow was still coming down heavily. There was no doubt in Lucas's mind that they were going to be stuck inside for the entire weekend.

He'd been alone for too long. How the hell was he supposed to survive this?

Thirty minutes later, Emma emerged from the bedroom feeling ten times better. The hot shower had certainly helped and the ibuprofen had finally kicked in, easing more of her aches. Her ankle was still sore, but she found that she was maneuvering around a little bit easier.

Dressed in one of Lucas's T-shirts, which was more like a dress on her, and wrapped in his robe, Emma slowly made her way toward the kitchen and the delicious aroma that was coming from it. Lucas's back was to her, but she saw him stiffen slightly before turning around.

“I hope you don't mind that I borrowed your robe,” she said as she sat down on one of the stools at the breakfast nook.

Lucas was speechless. The Emma Taylor he saw once a month at his father's office was always beautiful, but this woman sitting across from him simply took his breath away. Her auburn hair was damp and curling wildly around her face. She had on no makeup and her deep blue eyes were staring at him right now with curiosity.

Oh, right. She had asked him a question.

“No, it's fine. Like I said, I don't have much here that you would be able to wear. I'm glad you can use it.”

“Your shirt was plenty big but I was still a bit chilled.”

He nearly groaned. Turning his attention back to the meal preparation, all he could picture in his mind was Emma wearing his T-shirt, most likely with nothing underneath. That image stayed there and he cursed when he burned his hand taking the steaks out from under the broiler.

“You all right?” she asked.

“Fine,” he lied, hating how hoarse his own voice sounded. “I wasn't sure how you liked your steak.”

“Rare, preferably, but however you made it will be fine. Is there anything I can do to help?”

You
can
take
off
that
oversized
robe
and
let
me
see
if
the
reality
is
as
good
as
my
imagination.
Lucas shook his head to clear his thoughts. Now was totally not the time to be thinking this way. They were more than likely stuck together for the weekend, and it was going to be long enough without him indulging in naughty thoughts of Emma in various states of undress.

Emma continued to look at him expectantly and finally Lucas cleared his mind enough to respond. “No, no…everything's ready. We'll just eat here at the island so that you don't have to move.” He quickly plated their steaks and added the potatoes that he'd baked. “I'd offer you some wine but I don't think it's a good idea with your head injury.”

Emma rolled her eyes at him. She wasn't much of a wine drinker anyway, but the fact that he was still being so dramatic over the bump on her head was getting on her nerves. “That's fine. I'll stick with water.”

After setting down the plates, Lucas poured her another glass and took a seat opposite her. Right now he thought it was in his best interest to have three feet of granite between the two of them. He wasn't feeling too confident in his restraint at the moment. Utensils in hand, Lucas was about to cut into his steak but waited to see how Emma was enjoying hers.

Her smile said it all. “It's rare,” she said and looked up at him.

“It's how I make mine, and I just naturally assume everyone eats theirs that way. Plus, if you didn't, I could always have put it back under the broiler. I can't un-cook it if it's too well done but I can certainly tighten one up if it's too rare.”

“It's perfect, Lucas. Thank you.” Her voice melted over him and Lucas felt his body tightening. His throat felt dry and if he didn't know better, he'd swear he was starting to sweat. How could she have this much of an effect on him? He'd spent many hours in her company and never felt like this.

Forcing himself to take a bite of his dinner, he stopped cold as Emma purred with pleasure. Lucas had to wonder if she even realized she'd done it. He took a large forkful of steak and focused on saying the alphabet backward in his head, chewing until his jaw hurt, all the while looking only at his plate. When he finally allowed himself to look up, Emma was smiling at him. “What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she replied with a chuckle. “It's just that I think you need to work on your social skills a little. You've been on your own for too long.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means that it wouldn't kill you to try a little small talk while we eat.”

“Small talk?” he repeated. “We were talking just fine a few minutes ago. I figured you'd prefer a little silence rather than me talking with my mouth full.”

Emma let out a hearty laugh and Lucas couldn't help but join her. “You're right. The silence is preferable to that. Sorry. Maybe it's me who needs to work on my social skills.”

“Your social skills are perfect,” he said before he even realized the words had slipped out.

Emma took another delicate bite of her steak, clearly deciding to ignore his odd compliment. “Everything is delicious, Lucas. I appreciate you cooking for me.”

“I couldn't let you starve, could I?” he said, his tone more harsh than he intended and once again, he regretted his words. The look of devastation on Emma's face nearly brought him to his knees. Thinking quickly he simply added, “Then we'd really have a problem with my social skills.”

The words were said lightly and had the desired effect; soon Emma was smiling and they returned to the comfortable silence while finishing their meal. When they were done, Lucas cleaned up and noticed how sleepy Emma was looking. Looking at the clock, he saw that it was only nine o'clock, but for all he knew, she was someone who went to bed early.

“Listen, why don't you head on in and take the bed. I'll sleep on the couch.”

“Oh, I couldn't do that, Lucas. You've done so much already and really, the couch is perfectly fine for me.”

Lucas sighed wearily and hung his head. “Emma, I would really appreciate it if you didn't argue with me on everything. You are a guest in my home, an injured guest. Please take the bed. I normally fall asleep out here anyway.”

Looking over her shoulder toward the bedroom, she sighed. “I hate kicking you out of your own bed.” That had all kinds of images coming to mind and she kept her face diverted so that Lucas couldn't see the blush creeping up her cheeks.

He was suddenly at her side, guiding her into the bedroom. They stopped next to the bed and Lucas went about folding the comforter and sheets back, arranging pillows, and generally fussing with just about everything in sight. Emma bit back a smile.

“I'll keep the fire going through the night and close the blinds here if you'd like,” he said gruffly, not willing to meet her eyes either.

“Lucas,” Emma said softly, waiting for him to stop moving around and look at her. When he finally did, she spoke again. “You can stop fussing with everything. I'm not happy about making you sleep on the couch, but I appreciate your hospitality.”

“You're not making me do anything, Emma. You're injured and I want you to rest comfortably while you can.”

Something in that statement struck her as odd, and her face must have conveyed that point because Lucas stepped forward and explained. “A head injury is a funny thing; you can feel fine one minute and then the next everything could be wrong. I'll be waking you up every couple of hours to make sure you're okay.”

Emma gaped at him. “Make sure I'm okay?” she parroted. “How?”

“Simple stuff; I'll just ask you a couple of questions to make sure your thinking is clear.”

“My thinking is never clear when I'm asleep, Lucas. Wouldn't it just be better to let me get a full night's sleep?”

He shook his head. “Afraid not. I've been through this enough times to know the drill.”

“So when will you get to sleep? And how will you know when to wake me up?”

“I'll set the alarm on my phone for every couple of hours and I'll probably get the same amount of sleep as you.”

Emma made a face. Hell, if she was going to be forced to be woken up all night by her ideal man, couldn't it be for pleasure rather than for practicality? Her life really did suck. “I don't suppose I have any say in the matter?”

Lucas shook his head. “You do not.”

Cursing under her breath, she glared at him and said, “Fine,” before she began to untie the robe sash from around her waist. Not caring that Lucas was standing there watching her every move, she let the garment drop from her shoulders and flung it on the foot of the bed before crawling awkwardly between the sheets. It wasn't until she was sitting back against the pillows and ready to reach for the bedside lamp that she looked his way. “Anything else I need to know?” she asked defiantly.

Lucas looked like he wanted to say something, but then thought the better of it. “Get some sleep, Emma,” was all he said before storming out of the room.

Reaching for the lamp, Emma turned it off. If only it was as easy to turn off her feelings for a man who clearly couldn't get away from her fast enough.

* * *

One hour and fifty-five minutes later Lucas was sitting on his couch staring at his cell phone like it was a time bomb. In five minutes he was going to have to go in and wake Emma up and check on her to make sure she was okay. The thought of seeing her in his bed, looking tousled and sleepy, was wreaking havoc on him. Clearly he must have done something wrong in this life, because he was surely being punished.

Most nights it didn't bother him to fall asleep on the sofa, but tonight he couldn't seem to make himself comfortable enough to sleep. Maybe it was the worry he felt over Emma, or maybe it was the knowledge that she was in the other room in his bed that was keeping him awake. Either way, he was going to have to get some sleep eventually.

The phone let off a little warning bell that told him to go and check on his guest. With a sigh of resignation, Lucas stood and walked like a condemned man going to the electric chair. He pushed the bedroom door open. The room was softly lit by firelight. His gaze immediately went to where Emma was curled up in the bed. Her hair fanned out on the pillow and her beautiful face was completely relaxed in sleep. Lucas could have watched her all night.

Unfortunately, he had a task to accomplish. He quietly walked over to the bed and whispered her name. When she didn't move or respond, he said it again a little louder. Still nothing. With no other choice, Lucas reached out and gently shook her shoulder. “Emma,” he said with a little more force and watched as her eyes fluttered open.

It took a moment for Emma to remember where she was and when she was able to focus and saw Lucas staring down at her, her still-sleepy brain wanted to reach out and tug him down beside her. Bad sleepy brain!

“What time is it?” she whispered as she pulled herself up to a near sitting position.

“It's a little after eleven. How's your head?”

Emma had to think for a minute. “It actually hurts a little.”

“You're due for more ibuprofen. I'll get that for you.” Lucas went into the bathroom and rifled through the medicine cabinet before returning to the bedroom. Carefully he handed her the tablets and then the glass of water. Emma placed the glass on the bedside table and then looked at him expectantly.

“Did I pass?” she asked.

“Pass?”

“The concussion test,” she said and then yawned widely. “Can I go back to sleep now?”

Lucas chuckled. “Not yet. Tell me your full name.” She did. “Tell me where you work.” She did. “Tell me what day it is.” And she did.

“Anything else I can tell you?” Emma asked again as she slowly slid back down under the blankets.

Yes, that you don't want to go back to sleep. That you want me to crawl in the bed with you.
“No,” he said softly, pulling the blankets back up over her shoulder. “Get some sleep.”

Emma hummed a response and Lucas walked over to the fire to add another log from the bedroom side, watching as the flames roared to life again. A quick glance at the lounge beside the fire had him rethinking his plan for the evening. His knee had a dull ache and really, he'd pushed himself too hard today. As much as Emma needed his attention, he needed to spend a little less time walking around as well.

She was already back to sleep and Lucas walked out to the living room, grabbed his phone, and shut out the lights. Back in the bedroom, he grabbed a T-shirt and a pair of flannel pajama pants and went into the bathroom to change. Once he was done, he got comfortable on the lounge, set the alarm again, and finally let himself sleep.