Читать книгу Forbidden: A Shade Darker – The Complete Collection - Leslie Kelly, Kira Sinclair - Страница 11

4

GIVEN HOW BUSY her evening was, Emily should have completely forgotten about Rand and his shocking claim that he’d come to Chicago just to see her. The hotel was sold out. As always, there were complaints from people about dripping faucets, noisy neighbors, cold room-service food. Plus, tonight, the staff was scurrying to accommodate both the overnight guests and everyone attending the gala event in the Grand Ballroom.

The fund-raiser/New Year’s Eve party was packed with elegantly dressed people celebrating and bidding on silent auction items, the proceeds of which would go to local shelters. The staff had to watch for any guests who’d overindulged but still believed they could drive home. So a sexy ballplayer and his outrageous assertion should have been the last things on Emily’s mind.

Of course, they weren’t. She hadn’t been able to get the man out of her head for more than sixty seconds since she’d left his room. Especially because every time she went into the ballroom to check on the event staff, she heard his sexy voice urging people to donate more money to the cause. Hell, if the event had been a bachelor auction and he’d been selling a date with himself, every shelter in Chicago would be funded for a year.

The only thing that made her smile about the situation was wondering how long it had taken him to get out of the handcuffs.

“Wait, are you telling me you really know Rand McConnell?”

“Knew,” she clarified, quickly glancing at Nora, one of the other floor managers, who was Emily’s closest friend on the job. Their shifts were changing and she’d just filled the other woman in on what was happening in the hotel tonight, since it would be Nora’s responsibility until 7:00 a.m. tomorrow. Emily got off at 11—about ten minutes from now—and would be heading home before the drunks hit the road after their midnight celebrations. By the time the clock struck twelve, she’d be safely in her PJs.

She’d also happened to mention to Nora that she used to be friends with Rand. That was far more interesting to the other woman than anything about the job.

“How did you know him?” her friend asked, her voice both curious and a little awed.

“Through my brother. They used to be friends. It was years ago, before he hit it big.”

“What was he like?”

“Cocky.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Talented,” she admitted, her tone grudging. “Smart.”

“Hot.”

“I suppose, if you like the athletic type.”

“Who doesn’t like the athletic type?” Nora wagged her eyebrows. “That man could swing his big bat my way anytime.”

“Eww. I’m sure he’s swung it toward plenty of other women.”

“So? If it connects with your sweet spot and you score a home run, who cares?”

Of course Nora would see it that way. Her love life was a revolving door, and she had a man’s attitude when it came to sex. Take the pleasure, forget the pain, and move on.

Emily suddenly grew still, contemplating that. She’d never dwelled on Nora’s philosophy, being one who always carefully considered going to bed with someone. She viewed sex as a big milestone that sealed the deal of a serious relationship. That one experiment as a wild child with Rand had made her realize that her good-girl roots were best when it came to relationships. She’d never again thrown caution to the wind and taken someone she really wanted, just for pleasure’s sake.

While none of them had complained about her nice, quiet nature, they also hadn’t always agreed with her sex-has-to-mean-something stance. In fact, to a couple of them, sex had been the culmination of the experience and once they’d gotten her to give it up, they’d headed out the door.

She’d never played the game that way...the way those men did. The way Nora did. She just wasn’t wired that way.

But why not try it? Why not take what Rand wants to give you, take every ounce of pleasure, and then wave happily as he walks away?

Could she do that? She honestly wasn’t sure. She’d been wildly in love with the man once and sex and love had gotten all mixed up together for her. Could she separate the emotions and just take the sex now, while she had the chance?

She didn’t think so. No matter what she told herself, her heart would be at risk.

But even if she ended up having to nurse another broken heart, having the memories of really being his lover this time...wouldn’t that make it all worthwhile?

“If that man gave me a second look, I would so go for it,” Nora said, still chattering happily. “Rand McConnell is total masturbation bait. Every woman alive would see him and need the strongest setting on her shower massage.”

“No, thanks,” Emily mumbled, still focused more on her own worries than on the conversation. “I’ll stick to sexy romance novels and my vibrator.”

Behind her, Emily suddenly heard someone clear his throat.

Oh, God, please no. Let it be anybody but him.

But judging by the way Nora’s eyes rounded, her mouth plopped open and her face flamed, Emily strongly suspected her good-luck-fairy was still on vacation.

She turned around and saw Rand standing behind them. He’d come out of the ballroom and walked into the small alcove near the front desk, where she and Nora had ducked for a quick conference. Obviously, neither of them had even heard him come up behind them; the man was as quiet as a cat. Maybe that was why he was so good at stealing bases, and, according to the tabloids, women’s hearts.

“Hello, Emily,” he said, his voice sounding normal, though an amused smile tugged at his lips.

“Mr. McConnell.”

Tsking, he asked, “What were you two talking about?”

She shot some flames at him through her eyeballs. “Nothing that matters.”

Ignoring her jab, he directed his attention to Nora. “I’m Rand McConnell.”

The other woman gushed a greeting, almost falling over the tongue that was hanging out of her mouth. Rand, smooth and charming as always, managed to calm her down and soon the two of them were chatting as if he were simply another gorgeous, hunky, studly, rich, famous hotel guest.

“Emily, I’ve been looking for you,” Rand said, moving his full, female-brain-cell-zapping attention back to her.

Oh, please don’t embarrass me. Considering that she’d just been standing here contemplating giving Rand what he’d come here for, taking some orgasms and hot memories for herself while she could, it probably wouldn’t be hard for him to put a blush on her face.

“The people from the charity are starting an impromptu auction and I think you should be in there.”

She frowned. “What do you mean? The organizers worked with our staff planner and there aren’t supposed to be any other events without prior approval.”

Anything that would require more staff could present a problem, since they were stretched so thin taking care of the thousand people attending the event. Plus, the organizers had already tried to include a raffle that would run afoul of gaming laws, and she’d been worried they would try to slip something similar in under the radar.

“I don’t know, but I figured you’d want to check.”

She glanced at Nora, who still had a few minutes before her shift started. The other woman still had that glazed, hot-man-in-her-sights look in her eyes. She’d be of no use, and, technically, it was still Emily’s job to put out any fires that arose.

Sighing, Emily left her friend to drown in her own drool as she chatted with Rand, who seemed content to watch Emily go. She hurried to the ballroom, entering just in time to hear the evening’s emcee, who’d been reading off the results of the silent auction not long before, announce the winner of what appeared to be a not-so-silent one.

“The winner of this dance, with a bid of one hundred dollars, is the tall gentleman in the back. Sir, come claim your partner!”

A giggling woman in a blue gown came off the stage and met the broadly smiling winner at the bottom of the portable steps. The couple came together on the nearly empty dance floor, swaying to the smooth tones of the jazz band as onlookers clapped and continued drinking, eating and celebrating.

“A dance auction?” she said, assessing the situation quickly.

Okay, this wasn’t a problem. They wouldn’t require more staff, food or security. No, the coordinators hadn’t included it in their plans for this evening, but she didn’t see the harm as long as the participants were all willing.

“Now, who’s next?”

“Five thousand dollars!” a voice called.

The crowd gasped, searching the room for the bidder as the auctioneer peered out among them. “Hold on a minute, sir, we need somebody for you to bid on before you go naming the price. But hold that thought, that’s a very generous offer.”

“Five thousand dollars,” the man’s voice—a familiar one—repeated. She placed that voice right before he added, “For a dance with Miss Emily Crowder.”

No. Oh, hell, no—he had not just done this.

She was going to kill him. Truly, she was going to put her hands around Rand McConnell’s throat and wring his neck. He had just made a spectacle of her by throwing her name out among these bigwigs, as if she, a uniformed hotel employee, could just join the party.

She considered slinking out, pretending this Emily Crowder person didn’t exist, but Rand was having none of that. He was striding through the room, the crowd parting like the sea around Moses as he beelined toward her. His attention was focused on her face, so there was no way he could miss her glare. But he didn’t seem to mind one bit.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she snapped.

“Supporting a good cause. I love animals, especially dogs.”

“So find a Chihuahua to dance with.”

“I’d rather dance with you.”

“Sir, is that the lady you’re bidding on?” the emcee asked.

“Yes. Five thousand dollars for a dance with Miss Crowder.”

“I’m going to kill you for this.”

“Dance with me first. And give me a chance to pay up.”

“What do you say, Miss Crowder?” asked the auctioneer.

“I really can’t,” she said apologetically. “I’m afraid that’s not in my job description.”

“Raising money to save animals in need is in everybody’s job description, as far as I’m concerned,” Rand said. “I’m sure Miss Crowder’s superiors would give her a five-minute break to earn ten thousand dollars for such a worthy cause.”

She flinched. “You said five thousand.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Oh, you sneaky bastard,” she mumbled, even as the crowd’s comments swelled in approval of Rand’s generosity.

Emily was torn, knowing she would be crazy to expose herself to any more of Rand’s charm, but also remembering the argument she’d been having with herself before he’d shown up.

Why not be like Nora for a change?

How many chances would she have with this man, who made her whole body sing in anticipation?

“Come on, dance with me, Em. It’s the least you can do to make up for the handcuffs.”

That elicited a tiny, self-satisfied grin. “How long did it take you to get out of them?”

“A half hour,” he admitted. “It was a little tough to do without someone holding the cuff steady.”

She nibbled her lip. “I’m sorry. That was childish.”

“Make it up to me with a dance.”

She hesitated, then suddenly remembered that a widowed Scarlett O’Hara had said fiddle dee dee and danced with Rhett Butler at a charity ball. Like Scarlett, she was tapping her toes. She wanted to dance with him. How crazy was that? She’d been trying to decide whether to leap on him or avoid him like the plague, but right now, being in his arms on the dance floor seemed to be the perfect compromise. Besides, what harm could come from being held by him in the middle of a huge crowd? It’s not as if she could do anything terribly stupid or desperate when there were so many witnesses around.

“Shall we?” he asked, reaching for her.

She slowly nodded, letting him lead her to the dance floor. There, he drew her close, pulling her tightly against his tall, tuxedo-clad body. Emily, in her navy skirt and white blouse, had to look completely out of place. But as the two of them melted together, she didn’t really care.

One dance, for charity. What harm can come from that?

So they danced. The music was low and smooth, meant for close-in dancing, probably to encourage attendees to pay more for their partners. Rand took full advantage, his hand pressed possessively to the small of her back, so that his fingertips brushed against the curves of her rear. Her breasts were heavy and sensitive, the press of his chest bringing her nipples to full, tight awareness. The moment the dance ended and she drew away, he would be able to see the effect he had on her through her simple white blouse—and so would everyone else. But now, when she was so close to him, it didn’t matter.

“It’s been too long since we danced,” he murmured, his mouth near her temple, his breath brushing her hair.

“We never danced together.”

He breathed against her hair, as if inhaling her scent. “Sure we did. That night in the pool.”

The late-night swim. The one when they’d kissed.

“There was music coming from that party across the street,” he added.

Memories flooded through her. They’d been in the water, standing and facing each other, when the faint strains of a slow tune had wafted to their ears. Rand had jokingly asked her to dance. The joke had been on him, because she’d leapt at the chance to be in his arms. They’d rocked together, standing waist-deep in cool water, swaying to the faint music they could barely make out over the night breeze. Their wet young bodies had been pressed together, from neck to knee. Even before Rand had kissed her, she had noticed his body’s reaction, that long, powerful bulge in his swim trunks, and had understood what it meant.

“I remember,” she murmured, unable to pretend she wasn’t experiencing the same magnetic pull she’d always felt around Rand. Long before he’d been rich and famous, long before he’d become a sex symbol, he had appealed to the very core of her being the way no one had, before or since. She’d wanted him from the moment they’d met.

“I remember everything about that summer,” he said.

“Like what?”

“Like the day Seth and I picked you up at the airport when you first arrived. You had your hair in a high ponytail and you were carrying a backpack full of Hollywood tourist guides and movie-star tell-alls.”

“You offered to carry it.”

“And the weight of it nearly pulled my arm out of my socket,” he teased.

“Remember my first In-N-Out burger experience?”

“When you licked every bit of sauce off your fingers and then wiped what was left off the wrapper and licked that up, too?”

“Man, I loved those things. Grandfather almost never let me eat fast food.”

“How is the old guy?”

She smiled. “He’s fine. Still very protective.”

She supposed that was no wonder, considering the way Emily’s own parents had dragged her to another country, putting hers and Seth’s lives at risk as they tried to cover up their crimes. After getting Seth and Emily back home, her elderly grandfather had never stopped wanting to keep them safe from harm, especially Emily.

“You know what I remember most?” he said.

She almost hated to ask. “What?”

The pool? My birthday? The scene with Seth?

“I most remember holding your hand all day at Disneyland.”

She sucked in a breath, taken by surprise.

“Really?”

He gazed down at her, tenderness etched into his face. “Really. I’d never done that before. I’d had girlfriends, but I’d never just walked hand in hand through a theme park with anyone.”

The memory meant something to him, she could tell. His stare was intense, so filled with...what was it? Longing? A yearning for a time when life had been so simple that he could experience pure pleasure by holding a girl’s hand?

She had catalogued all the ways Rand’s life had changed since she’d known him, but she’d only ever tallied the positives. The fame, the money, the travel, the fun, the thrill of the game. She hadn’t considered the downsides. It would be impossible for Rand to go to a theme park and just enjoy himself now. Such simple pleasures were completely denied to people at his level of fame, and she had to wonder if the price he paid for such soaring success was one he regretted having to pay.

“That was a good day,” she said softly.

“So, are you going to talk to me now? Let me explain why I came here?”

“I think it’s pretty clear.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I’m not offended—not really. Surprised, I guess.”

“I just wanted to see you. I’ve never been able to forget the time we spent together, and the way things ended with us. I wanted to know how your life turned out.”

“You could have sent a thinking-of-you card.”

“Would you have replied?”

“Probably not.”

“So you see why I had to come.”

No, she didn’t. It was crazy to believe he’d come here, as he said, to finish what they’d started. He could have a different sex partner every day for a year—or ten—if he wanted to. Yet she couldn’t imagine anything else they’d started that long-ago summer that a man as rich, powerful and successful as Rand might be anxious to finish. It wasn’t as if their teenage summer fling constituted some big, unfinished business.

But maybe, like that simple day in a theme park with a girl, he was longing for a lifestyle he could no longer have. Maybe he wanted to grasp one last memory of the Rand he’d been before he’d become the sexiest athlete in the world.

Emily had never been one to hide from the truth of a situation or bury her head in the sand. Being here with Rand, being held by him, inhaling his essence, feeling the strength of him, was making her crazy and she needed to be sure of where she stood. So she had to ask him.

“Did you really come here planning to have sex with me?”

He gazed at her, not appearing shocked by the bluntness of her question. “Would it surprise you if I said yes?”

“Are you saying yes?”

“Yes.”

She froze, almost stumbling. He kept her upright, locked in his strong arms. Shaking her head hard, not sure whether she was having some kind of surreal dream, she asked, “Why me?”

“You’re beautiful.”

“There are a hundred more beautiful women in this room, much less in the entire world. You could have any of them. So, I repeat, why me?”

He was quiet for a moment, staring searchingly at her face, as if debating how to answer. Finally, he said, “Lots of reasons, but, I guess the most important one is that the curiosity has been eating at me since the last time I saw you.”

Curious about what sex would have been like between them? Well, it wasn’t the most flattering explanation—he hadn’t claimed to have been pining away from her for seven years—but she appreciated it. Because it was honest. And because, if pressed, she would have to admit she’d been just as curious, for just as long.

They’d come so close to being lovers once. Like a kid denied the one present she’d wanted every Christmas of her childhood, Emily had to wonder if the thing she hadn’t gotten might have been the greatest gift ever.

“Are you offended? Because you shouldn’t be. I didn’t come here assuming it would be easy to seduce you.”

“Does that mean you’re giving up?”

“It means I’m going to try harder.”

She laughed softly. So did he.

“The truth is, I wasn’t taking this for granted,” he said, intent, earnest. “I wasn’t even sure if you were married or in a committed relationship, or if I’d come face-to-face with you and find that the chemistry was gone.”

“I’m not.” She swallowed hard and added, “It’s not.”

Chemistry. Heat. Attraction. They’d both felt all of the above from the day they’d met, not just after that night in the pool. She’d once believed it had been one-sided until that heated encounter, but now, looking back at those weeks through a woman’s eyes and remembering everything he’d said and done, she knew it hadn’t been.

He’d been playing the gentleman—she understood that now. Holding her at arm’s length, teasing her, treating her like a kid sister, all because he’d been more interested in her than he wanted to be. Definitely more than Seth had wanted him to be.

It didn’t explain why he’d never responded to her afterward, but some of her questions about how he’d felt when they’d been together had finally been answered. Those answers were enough to lessen the humiliation of what had happened. They also made her more confident in herself, in her sex appeal, in the torch she’d once carried for him.

So, could she do it? Could she take what she hadn’t gotten back then? Was it even possible for her to be the kind of woman who casually hooked up with a guy? A guy who’d traveled across the country to take her to bed just because he’d been wondering what it would be like for so many years?

“Yes,” she whispered, talking to herself, not to him.

“Yes what?”

She stopped dancing and looked up at him, noting the warmth in those green eyes and the intensity of his interest. She saw the desire she’d dreamed of recognizing on his handsome face, and she believed it was genuine.

She could do it, and not have one regret.

Emily wasn’t the reckless type. She’d never had a one-night stand. Maybe this would be her first—maybe tonight was all they’d have, all he was interested in. She felt a stab of sadness at the thought, but it was outweighed by pure excitement. She’d been waiting so long—far too long. She’d lost her virginity to the wrong man and had known nothing but wrong men ever since. Even if she only had him for one night, she was ready to finally have the right man.

Decision made. She was going to take what she could get and not regret it later. It was time to be the wild, impulsive girl she’d been on her eighteenth birthday. She would have the man she wanted, store up as many memories as her heart could hold, and treasure them forever.

Starting right now.

“Em? What are you saying?”

She took a deep breath, waiting for her heart to flutter with indecision, or her tongue to tangle up within her mouth.

But her heartbeat was strong and steady, and the words came so very easily.

“I’m saying yes, Rand. Just yes.”