Читать книгу The Wedding Dress - Kimberly Cates - Страница 11

JARED BUTLER WAS LICKING her neck. Emma could feel it through that delicious twilight between sleep and wakefulness. His warm tongue stroked the sensitive cords and hollows, pausing from time to time to torture her with tiny nips at her earlobe.

His hair could use washing, the thick waves not nearly as soft as they appeared. But who cared as long as she could feel that soul-shattering mouth on her skin at last?

She should make him stop. She would. Just not yet. It had been so long since she’d felt this pulse-racing anticipation, this surrender to needs she’d buried, almost feared.

She moaned, restless against the lumpy mattress, feather quills pricking through the cloth and prodding her to wake. No. Not yet, she pleaded. She wanted to feel the weight of him bearing down on her. Wanted him to kiss her mouth.

She didn’t want to beg. Couldn’t help herself. “Put your hands on me. Jared, please…”

He stuck an ice cube in her ear instead. With a cry of protest, she started awake. One distorted black button eye stared down at her, a dog’s face looming so close to hers it looked as if it were twisted by a funhouse mirror. Captain nudged her again with his cold, wet nose.

“Ohmigod,” Emma gasped, struggling upright. “You’re not…I mean, he’s not…” So much for her night of burning romance.

The terrier tilted its head to one side in query. Still feeling the effects of Jared’s Scotch, Captain listed to one side, then toppled into a pathetically thin heap.

Emma gathered the dog into her arms and peered about the room. The sun was setting, shadows painted against the wall. Where had the day gone? She’d brought Captain up to her room so he could rest, but the whole time she’d been changing out of her damp clothes, the mutt had struggled frantically to scratch out his stitches. Afraid he just might succeed, she had finally curled up with him on her bed, holding him so his claws couldn’t do any more damage.

She’d only intended to stay there until Captain drifted off. But her sleepless night and the craziness of the morning’s adventures had obviously taken more of a toll on her than she’d thought. They’d played through her mind, growing hazier and hazier until…

Her cheeks burned. It would be bad enough if Jared knew she’d slept the day away. If the archaeologist had any idea that she’d been having fantasies about him, her time here would be a complete disaster. The last thing she needed was to reinforce his opinion that she was a pampered little Hollywood…nymphomaniac.

What was she thinking? Having wild fantasies about a man she’d barely met. A man she didn’t even like. Well, at least not until this morning.

“It’s his mouth’s fault,” Emma told Captain. “That mouth is so hot it should come with a warning from the surgeon general.”

She’d seen Jared’s mouth sulky, angry, reckless. That had been dangerous enough. But smiling in good humor when he’d finally caught up with her on horseback, gruffly tender when he’d stitched Captain’s wounds, almost a little shy when she’d returned the favor, drawing his big, blunt-fingered hand onto her lap to clean out the bites he’d gotten saving her dog….

Shy? She brought herself up short. There wasn’t a shy bone in that man’s body. He was one-hundred-proof testosterone. And Emma hadn’t had so much as a taste of the hard stuff since Drew had walked out.

She rolled her eyes as the double entendre struck her. Her middle rumbled in protest, as if to say, “Don’t even think of a drinking metaphor with a stomach as empty as yours.” She supposed the logic was sound. She hadn’t eaten all day. Captain rolled onto his back, little legs up in the air, doing the best starving ghetto dog impression Emma had ever seen. Emma grinned, ridiculously pleased. It was nice to see a friendly face, the tower not so lonely anymore.

“Okay, I get the message,” she told Captain. “We’ll go in search of food. But no more licking my face, got it? And don’t you dare tell anyone what I was dreaming or I’ll—”

The terrier wove toward the edge of the bed. She caught him by the scruff of his neck just as he was about to fall off.

“What am I worried about? You’re in no shape to tell my secrets. At least not tonight.” She climbed off the bed, tucked Captain into her arms. He shivered. Could he be developing a fever? she wondered, concerned. Holding him in the crook of her left elbow, she wrapped her wide sleeve around him. Captain burrowed under the green wool and heaved a sigh, his shivering fading to an occasional tremor as she headed down the stairs and out the heavy wooden door.

She peered down the length of ruined curtain wall toward the cluster of white canvas tents. The day’s work must be over. It seemed everyone was taking a break. A crowd of buff male students showed off their athletic prowess, bumping a soccer ball expertly from one to another with their heads or knees or feet. A bevy of girls sprawled on a blanket nearby flirted outrageously, tossing their hair and laughing as if they hadn’t a care in the world.

Emma’s chest hurt as her mind spun back in time, remembering how good it felt to be that young, your whole life before you, the handsomest boy in class smiling at you in a way that made your heart threaten to beat its way out of your chest.

We’ve never officially met. I’m Drew Lawson.

I know. Every girl in their sports conference knew who he was. I’m, um, Emma McDaniel.

I know. He’d smiled and Emma felt her stomach drop clean through the floor. Your audition blew me away, he’d said. I just wanted you to know. If the drama department casts any other girl as Juliet, they’re out of their mind.

It’s…hard to say what will happen. No it wasn’t. Brandi Bates, reigning bitch-queen of Whitewater High, was a shooin for the role. Her mom had even ordered a custom-made Juliet costume to “donate” to the theater department. Emma had figured her chances at being cast in the lead were about as slim as the chance that Drew Lawson would ever ask her on a date.

Who would ever have guessed he’d be the first to kiss her, her first lover, her husband, her best friend? Funny, it was her friend she missed the most.

Emma’s steps slowed for a moment as the Scottish countryside swirled back into focus, the loss of Drew fresh again. Feeling awkward, she tucked the pain away.

Chin up, she told herself. This isn’t the first time you’ve been an outsider.

But that didn’t make it much easier. Everyone else seemed to know where they fit at Castle Craigmorrigan. While Emma…

She’d have to carve out her own place. She’d done it before. Fastening a smile onto her face, she strolled toward the soccer game. Only then did she notice Davey Harrison on the fringe of the game. He looked as out of place as she felt and was stealing wistful glances at a sweet-faced redhead who sat near the blond, homecoming-queen type the other players were obviously trying to impress.

Smack!

A tanned surfer dude sent the ball flying Davey’s way. Before he could react, it ricocheted off his shoulder and went careening across the bumpy ground toward Emma. Instinctively, she trapped it with her foot, then wished she’d left the blasted ball alone. Davey’s face washed red with embarrassment.

For an instant the group of guys gawked at Emma, awkward as a bunch of seventh-graders peering across the gym floor at their first dance. The girls were almost as awestruck by Emma as the boys. But both sets of students recovered in a hurry.

“Hey, Harrison, go sit down with the girls,” Surfer Dude teased. “Let the lady play.”

“No thanks.” Emma scooped the ball up and lobbed it back into the game. The girls cast Emma green looks as the boys started to play to a different audience.

Only Homecoming Hell Queen seemed not to mind, a superior smirk on her lips. But then, if the angle of her gaze was any hint, she had her sights set far higher. Jared sat in a canvas folding chair outside his tent, jotting notes on some kind of pad.

Emma fought a pang of something that couldn’t be jealousy. So a gorgeous grad student wanted to crawl into bed with her site director? So what? That couldn’t be anything new. With his smoldering sexuality, the man probably sampled a new lover every dig season while students lined up hoping to be the flavor of the month.

They were sure to be disappointed. Emma had barely known the man for twenty-four hours and she already knew he had too much integrity to sleep with a student, graduate or otherwise.

Irritated with herself almost as much as with the blonde, Emma crossed to the one person she figured felt more out of place than she did at the moment. Davey.

“Is your boss starving me on purpose to get me ready for the whole siege scenario or do you think I could con him out of a little bread and water?”

“Didn’t you like what was on your tray?” Davey asked, concerned.

“What tray?”

Davey’s brow furrowed. “You mean you haven’t had anything to eat?”

“No.”

“But I heard Jared tell Veronica to take some food up to you at lunchtime.” Davey glared at the blonde, who had grudgingly delivered her a tray the night before. “What’s the deal, Veronica?”

Veronica stroked her hand from her throat to her annoyingly perky breasts, stealing a glance at Jared through thick lashes, her voice just a little loud to make sure the archaeologist could hear her. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just got so wrapped up in my work I forgot you were even here.”

Sure you did, sweetheart, Emma thought. Like you’d forget a boil on your ass.

“God, Veronica, I can’t believe you!” Davey exclaimed, outraged. “You sure remembered to eat lunch yourself.”

“Jared asked me to sit with him so we could discuss the finds I made,” Veronica said, staking claim as certainly as if she’d stuck a piece of tape across Jared’s chest that read keep off. “We were so engrossed that—”

Emma’s sleeve growled.

“My God, is that a dog?” Veronica asked in the tone most people would use to inquire about a poisonous snake.

Captain stuck his nose out of the folds of cloth and blinked at Veronica with drunken-sailor eyes. He showed his miniature vampire teeth, his whole body rumbling. Great judge of character, Emma thought.

“Does Jared know you have that thing here?” Veronica demanded, saccharine sweetness not quite hiding a healthy dose of bitchy triumph. “There’s no way he’s going to tolerate having a dog around the site.”

“Actually, Jared is the one who rescued Captain from the middle of a dogfight, then stitched him up,” Emma replied.

The soccer ball bounded away, but nobody chased it. The students all but twisted their heads right off their necks looking from the dog to Jared to Veronica.

Jared was listening. Emma could sense it, like the prickle of tiny hairs on her nape just before an electrical storm hit. But she doubted anyone else suspected what he was doing. The big Scotsman acted so absorbed in his work an explosion wouldn’t budge his attention.

“I really hate to be a bother, Davey,” Emma said, “but if you could point me in the direction of some food before Captain here faints dead away?”

Emma turned toward one of the picnic tables, grimacing as a ray from the setting sun blazed in her eyes. Davey scrambled to help, grabbing the edge of the table.

“You sit down over here, Ms. McDaniel. I’ll move this so the sun won’t be in your eyes.” He started to drag the table toward the shade of a tree. Surfer Dude elbowed him out of the way.

“Don’t hurt yourself, Einstein. Let the men take care of it.”

She knew exactly what the kid was doing, that pointed banter guys fell into when showing off for girls. The only defense: firing an even sharper smart-aleck answer right back. Unfortunately Davey’s arsenal of sarcasm wasn’t nearly a match for this crew.

Emma hated the humiliation in Davey’s eyes, worse still the resignation. She remembered having that same sinking feeling in her stomach so many times in her own teenage years. Davey didn’t even bother to argue. How could he, considering the obvious physical difference between him and the other guys?

All lanky arms and legs, Davey looked as awkward as a newborn colt, his shoulders not yet filled out, his face still a bit too soft, his eyes just a little too sensitive.

Davey stepped back, as if wishing he could disappear, but Emma blocked his path, shining her brightest smile on the embarrassed kid.

“They’re right, Davey,” she said. “You shouldn’t be moving furniture.”

The jocks elbowed each other in pleasure. Emma could feel every eye on her.

“Leave the menial tasks to the servants,” she told Davey with a wave of her hand. “You’ve already done enough today, rescuing me on the rocks.”

The ringleader of the soccer players swore as he thumped the table leg down right on one of his size-eleven Adidas. “Einstein rescued you?” he asked in disbelief.

“If it weren’t for Davey, God only knows what might have happened. I could have fallen right off the cliff.” Emma curtseyed to Davey and smiled gratefully up into his eyes. “Would you do me the honor of dining with me, sir knight?”

The poor kid looked like he was ready to faint. Emma shifted Captain’s weight into her left arm, then linked her other with Davey’s. She gave the boy an encouraging squeeze. “Please?”

“I’d be honored, my lady,” Davey finally said.

“I have so many questions about the castle I’m sure you can answer.”

Surfer Dude groaned. “Einstein’s already got a swelled head. Don’t make him worse.”

Veronica flashed a long-suffering look in Jared’s direction. “Children, children. Shall we just get out a ruler and settle this once and for all? You know Davey is smarter than the rest of us, Sean.”

Davey gaped as if she’d spoken a foreign language. Emma ground her teeth, angry that Veronica would use the vulnerable young man in an effort to play to Jared.

Emma was tempted to tell the girl that Davey was certainly smart enough to remember when he was supposed to bring a guest her lunch. But this wasn’t about Veronica, or even about Jared. Emma ignored everyone except Davey Harrison as he led her to her seat.

“Veronica, go get Ms. McDaniel some food from the canteen,” Davey commanded, glancing down at his watch. “They should be serving dinner now anyway.” The blonde compressed her mouth into a sour line.

“I’ll go,” the redhead volunteered. She climbed to her feet, brushing a twig off of her canvas shorts.

Davey’s smile grew suddenly shy. “Thanks, Beth.”

Beth. So Davey had a definite crush on the girl, bless his heart. Not that he’d ever have the confidence to let Beth know it.

Emma felt someone watching her, angled her face so she could see. Jared Butler’s wolflike gaze fixed on her, so inscrutable she shivered almost as much as her dog did. But why should she care what Jared thought? Davey Harrison was beaming as if she’d crowned him king of the world.

JARED WISHED Emma McDaniel would get the hell out of his head so he could get some work done. Even as a lad he’d been able to compartmentalize his life into neat little boxes, lock away his emotions and immerse himself in centuries past.

How many times could he remember his father’s wistful face peeking into his room of an evening? Angus Butler had been so fiercely proud Jared was top of his classes that the old man would never have dreamed of pulling his son away from the pile of books that always littered the boy’s bed. Yet now Jared understood the price his father had paid for such unselfishness. Jared knew about silences too deep, where ghosts lived just waiting for a chance to haunt you.

While Angus had been silent when Jared withdrew, Jenny had been sad. I thought things would be different once we were married. But you feel so far away and I can’t reach you….

He’d grown so damned impatient. I’m right here.

No. You’re somewhere off inside your head.

She’d been right. He’d lived most of his life cut off from the present, building castles in his mind, peopling them with ladies and knights far more real to him than his wife had been. Even students he cared most about—like Davey—he managed to keep boxed up in his head when necessary.

But damn if Emma McDaniel would stay where Jared put her. She kept popping out like some crazed Jack-in-the-box just when he least expected it. Jack-in-the-box? Ha! More like any red-blooded man’s hottest fantasy popping out of a cake at some stag party.

No wonder college lads decorated their walls with her picture. She had the kind of beauty that stopped men in their tracks—elegance, grace, a natural sensuality that made men want her, know they could never have her. She might as well be the moon; she was so far beyond their reach.

And now she’d smashed his concentration again. She’d glided across the heath like a princess in ancient tales of magic, about to sacrifice herself to some dragon. But this time no knight had ridden to her aid. The lady had done the rescuing, sweeping into the midst of the football game and transforming Davey from the shy butt of the more athletic boys’ jokes to her chosen champion. The boy looked as if he hadn’t a coherent thought left in his head.

Jared bundled away the site maps he’d been updating and watched Emma from beneath hooded lids.

So the lad is dazzled by her. At least Davey has the excuse he’s not even twenty yet. What about you, Butler? Admit it, man. When the woman carried that disaster of a dog out of your tent, she took your brain as well.

Jared closed his eyes, remembering. The skin exposed when Emma had opened his shirtfront still burned, but not from the wounds her vampire dog had inflicted. Soft, feminine fingertips had blazed invisible trails on his bare chest, leaving Jared so hot, another plunge in the cold burn would’ve been a relief.

She’d been so warm, so real when she’d pulled his hand into her lap, her red mouth vulnerable with regret that he’d been bitten, her eyes shining as if he had slain dragons instead of driven off a crotchety old farmer and his dogs.

But he’d broken the spell with a vengeance when he’d betrayed the fact that he’d read her letters.

How would you feel if I read private letters of yours?

Letters so emotional he’d actually cried over them the way she obviously had? He’d feel violated, exposed…furious. But then, he never had poured his feelings out on paper. Not since he’d learned the danger. Once in writing, your words could be used to trap you.

He heard a silvery ripple of laughter and opened his eyes to see Emma, transfixed by whatever Davey was talking about. The woman seemed to relish the fish and chips on her paper plate with the unabashed delight most people of her type would reserve for cuisine from a five-star French restaurant. Yet despite her animated conversation with Davey and her own obvious hunger, she paused now and then to slip her ridiculous-looking dog the choicest bits of food.

Something about the woman hammered at Jared’s heart: her ratty dog cradled on her lap, her beautiful smile thawing Davey’s shyness, the way the first spring sunshine thawed the heath, coaxing flowers out of winter-barren ground.

In half an hour Emma McDaniel had managed to achieve what Jared had struggled to do for years—forcing the other students to see Davey in a different light. But why had she done it? Questions racketed through Jared’s mind.

He saw Veronica slide onto the bench across from Emma and Davey, something sharp in the blonde’s gaze. Beth, Sean Murphy and the rest of Veronica’s adoring throng crowded into the remaining seats.

It was a strange combination. Curiosity, Jared’s fatal flaw, got the better of him.

He rose, took his notebook and a Ziploc bag containing a recent find to the table next to Emma’s.

“Dr. Butler, won’t you come join us?” Veronica called. “I’m sure someone would be happy to move.”

Just like a dog juggling for alpha status in a pack, Veronica was always nudging one of the quieter kids to give up their seat. Usually, Davey would have bailed, but Jared doubted a crate of explosives could blast the boy from Emma McDaniel’s side tonight.

Even if Davey had started to fall into his old habit of moving, Jared instinctively knew Emma would have stopped the boy. Whiskey-dark eyes had the same protective glint in them Jared had seen when the lady had been a heartbeat away from plunging into the middle of a dogfight after that little scrap of a mutt whose life she’d saved.

“I’ve got work to do,” Jared said, staking out an empty table by spreading his things across it. He drew a magnifying glass from the leather pouch on his belt, removed the finger-length chunk of metal from the plastic bag, then chose the seat where he’d have the best vantage point to keep an eye on the unfolding scene.

For a heartbeat Emma’s gaze locked on the find Jared was pretending to study, her avid curiosity surprising him.

But a second later, Jared was sure he’d imagined it. Emma focused on Davey once more. The kid was describing the evolution of castles to her, from wooden motte and bailey fortresses to the grand stone structures like Castle Craigmorrigan. Emma listened with rapt attention, peppering the conversation with surprisingly astute questions, as if her sole purpose was to make Davey shine.

Jared figured it took Veronica about three seconds to hijack the conversation.

“We can talk about castles all summer, Davey,” she said, sprinkling malt vinegar on her own fish. “But we’ll only have Emma here for a little while. Wouldn’t you all rather hear about her?”

A chorus of enthusiastic approval rose from the other students. A resigned aura settled over Emma’s features, as if she’d expected to be hit with questions at some point. But Jared sensed a wariness about Emma, too. Smart girl, he thought. Veronica sounded way too friendly considering the glint in her eyes.

“You look so different in person!” Veronica said, nibbling meditatively on a chip. “Of course, women who work out in the real world can’t waste hours in front of a mirror. It must be hard for you to adjust, having to dress yourself and do your own hair.”

“I’m trying not to crumble under the hardship,” Emma said breezily. “I suppose I’ll even have to clip my own toenails here.”

“I’d be happy to help,” Sean offered, elbowing his friend.

“No thanks. It’ll be good for me. If I can just figure out how to unfold the little lever thing on the clippers.”

Veronica’s mouth tightened as everyone at the table laughed, as charmed by Emma as the terrier was. Emma slipped the dog a thick wedge of potato and the animal smacked his lips in pure bliss.

“You don’t look nearly as…well, you know,” Veronica said. “It’s amazing what the world’s most famous makeup artists can do. I read someplace that there are women who don’t go anywhere without one.”

“I usually pack Pierre in my carry-on luggage, but these days they barely let you carry on a tube of lipstick. Besides, I couldn’t figure out how to declare him in customs.”

The kids roared, some sputtering mouthfuls of milk or fizzy drinks. Score one for Emma, Jared thought.

Veronica feigned a laugh. “That’s wonderful. But then you obviously get a lot of practice making snappy comebacks, being famous and all, I suppose. Especially lately, you poor thing.”

Poor thing? Jared saw Emma’s dark eyes glitter.

“Somehow I manage to bear up under the pressure.”

“Knowing you’re second choice as Lady Aislinn must be tough,” Veronica commiserated. “But it’s a very complex role. You can’t blame Barry Robards for having reservations about giving it to—well, your roles thus far haven’t exactly had much depth.”

“What a horrible curse,” Emma lamented. “Starring in movies that are box office draws when plenty of actresses with a whole lot more talent than I have are waiting on tables and eating stale cornflakes, hoping for their big breaks.”

“No way!” Sean exclaimed, a chorus of denials breaking from the other lads.

“Emma’s fantastic as Jade! No one looks better in spandex than you do! You sure wouldn’t, Ronnie!”

“We’ll never know, will we?” Veronica rejected a slightly burned chip. “It’s hard enough for a woman to win respect in academia without dressing in some skintight catsuit that…well, you must admit, Emma, it doesn’t leave much to the imagination.”

Emma selected an even darker chip and popped it in her mouth. “All that exposed skin is pretty risqué. Showing my hands and my face and—that’s all, isn’t it? You might want to rethink your shorts and T-shirt, Veronica. There’s more of me covered in my Jade Star costume than you’ve got covered right now.”

The boys made a swishing noise, shooting their arms up like referees signaling a goal.

“She’s got you there, Ronnie,” Beth said, stifling a giggle.

“I suppose,” Veronica said. “But I’d rather expose a little bit of leg than my whole private life. That must be terrible, Emma. You can’t go to a shop without seeing the whole sordid story splashed all over the magazines. Your divorce and all.”

Davey flushed, angry. “Veronica! For God’s sake. That’s none of our business.”