Emily buttoned the blouse that matched her lip stick, carefully dropped the pencil skirt over her head, wiggled and zipped the side. She slid her arms into the short English cut jacket and stepped from behind the screen. She perched on the edge of the stool to put her shoes on, taking a cautionary step, and then another.
“Got the camera…Chloe is gonna love this…you look almost identical!” Grace adjusted the digital camera, snapping off a few shots. “Okay…now do the walk…”
Emily rolled her eyes but stood up, shoulders back and head high. “Alright…Anna Thornton-Wilton…attitude…”
“And accent…you’re British…” Grace stood to the side, watching Jack come around the corner. She almost burst out laughing because he offered a nod to Emily as she walked past, a very girlish wiggle in the tight skirt and heels as she went onto the side walk.
“Where’s Emily? I want her to look at something,” Jack looked up from his phone at Grace. He scanned the open space of the large shop.
“Umm…Jack…” Grace linked her arm with his and drew him toward the entrance. “You just passed her.”
“I…you…” pale lashes widened, his head shaking. “No…that was not…”
They both stuck their heads around the frame of the door at the same time.
Only Jack’s eyes widened and his mouth opened and nothing came out. He felt a large part of his brain defect at the three inch heels and sexiest wiggle he’d been fortunate to view in a damn long time.
“Holy shit…what…who…”
“It’s a character from the British show called Hotel Babylon. Anna Thornton-Wilton. She’s a registration person in the hotel,” Grace said proudly. “Emily does her perfectly.”
Jack cleared his throat and stepped onto the pavement.
“She’s practicing the walk. That skirt is awfully difficult to move quickly in,” Grace said with a nod of approval.
“That skirt is fucking painted on,” Jack said, his eyes never leaving the black pin-striped suit. She went to the end of their building and turned, arms at her side and looking down at her feet as she walked back.
Thirty-six years old, his mind kept telling him even as his body reacted. Didn’t you gain mind over matter at some point in your male life, he demanded, straightening up with a wince.
Jack held up his palm, the smile in her eyes telling him who was inside.
Emily took his hand, stopping and turning slowly.
“What do you think?”
“That I am way…way…underdressed,” Jack stared at the dark, wide eyes and red bowed lips.
“Hmm…” Emily stepped closer, close enough to feel his reaction.
“Yeah…I need something really cold right now.”
Jack went into his shop, ignoring the soft laughter.
Emily went back to her shop, nodding to Grace.
“This is good…did you shoot the photos to Chloe?”
“I did and she loves it!”
“Excuse me?”
Emily turned, only Grace noticing the slight sway, their hands touching on the counter. Grace looked at the man, his suit jacket open. Medium brown hair and an angular face that was not in a happy mood. He looked quickly around the store.
“Can I help you?” Grace asked, her palm over Emily’s on the counter. She knew about the nightmares Emily had. They talked about all kinds of things and something about this guy had her frozen. But only for a moment. Grace listened to the cultured British accent, spoken quickly and succinctly.
“Anna Thornton-Wilton,” Emily extended her palm, a bright smile on the made up face. “How may we help you today?”
“I’m looking for someone, Elizabeth Temple,” he said after shaking hands with Emily.
“No one here by that name. Perhaps you have the wrong shop,” Emily said cheerfully, quickly recalling how Anna behaved.
“I have the right shop.” Was the dry response.
“Oh? Really? How can you be so certain?” Emily tilted her head, her best smile in place.
“Her car is out behind this shop. The investigator I hired assured me she was here,” he tried walking toward the back, both Grace and Emily stepping to block him.
“That is for employees only,” Emily told him sweetly. “I can assure you, sir, we have no one working here by that name. You might try one of the other shops along the street…”
“Look…Miss…”
“Thornton-Wilton,” Emily reminded him politely.
“Miss Thornton-Winston…”
“Thornton-Wilton,” Emily corrected slowly, smiling brightly. “I’m terribly sorry we can’t help you. Perhaps she’s unaware that she’s missing,” she said simply. “Why are you searching for her?”
“None of your business. I swear…” Dark eyes narrowed, busily trying to see everything in the back area. “Are you sure you’re not hiding her back there?”
“We do not hide anyone,” Emily said in her best British frost. “However, in your case, we just might make an exception. Now…please leave,” she pointed to the door at the same time Jack came around the corner. Emily closed her eyes and prayed for once he didn’t call out to her.
Jack was a quick study. Definitely underdressed, though, he thought with a passing glance at the suit and tie. His gaze caught firmly on Grace with both her hands wrapped tightly around one of Emily’s, her other hand pointing wickedly to the door.
“Is there a problem, ladies?” Jack asked in his best laid back tone.
“This gentleman…was just leaving,” Emily announced, ignoring the surprise in Jack’s eyes at her accent.
“Look,” the man reached inside his jacket and handed her a photo. “I’m looking for this woman. Elizabeth Temple. Have you seen her?”
“She used to live upstairs,” Grace told him, glancing at the photo. “But it’s my apartment now.”
“This was just taken yesterday,” the man said flatly. “Where is she?”
“The ladies gave you their answer,” Jack said quietly, anger flaring in his eyes. Someone had been taking photos of them while they emptied her apartment. Bright and early Sunday morning.
“Do I know you?” He turned on Jack abruptly, insolent gaze going from the sneakers, over the shorts and onto the flowered shirt, ending with the beard and moustache. “You seem familiar…”
“I get that a lot,” Jack answered with a shrug. “Maybe it’s time you left.”
“Maybe it’s none of your damn business,” he returned with a sneer.
“It is when you’re bothering my wife,” Jack spelled out for him very slowly. “They gave you an answer to your question.”
“I know she’s here somewhere, damn it,” he surged forward.
Jack watched Emily pull Grace to the side behind her, her foot out immediately to catch on his shin and send the man falling forward, the momentum carrying him through the back door. Grace moved quickly, closing it and locking it with a satisfied nod.
“Nice shoes,” Jack winked at Emily.
“I believe I could adjust to them,” she answered loftily, too aware of the quaking inside her.
“He’s going to come back,” Grace said softly, nodding to the man standing on the pavement, his phone out. He paced and talked.
“Do you know him, Jack?” Emily held one of his hands between both of hers.
“I know him. Not personally, only through business circles,” Jack admitted flatly. “Look at me…” he listened to her breathing, her mouth pulled into a taut scarlet bow and her chest heaving.
“He was in the nightmare, Jack,” she whispered hoarsely, wide eyes staring and unblinking. “I know the voice…I…I can feel the anger…”
“Grace, take her over to my shop and get her something cold to drink,” Jack turned her and watched Grace nod, linking arms and going through the reopened back door. He pulled one of the stools out and perched on the edge, waiting. He wasn’t sure how to handle him. He knew what he wanted to do. But the small civilized part of him held the upper hand at the moment.
He wouldn’t be any use to Emily in jail.
He hitched his feet on the lower rung of the stool, arms crossed over his chest. He watched Demming stride back into the costume store, his gaze sweeping the shop.
“Where’d they go?”
“Why are you here, Demming?” Jack asked politely, the surprise on his face a small satisfaction. “Your reputation precedes you.”
“Where is Elizabeth Temple?”
“Way, way out of your reach,” Jack told him honestly. “Your research must be out of date.”
“I’ll find her. It’s just a matter of time,” he said flatly. “Now that we’ve found where she’s been living…”
“She’s not a lost parcel, Demming,” Jack said, using Emily’s own words as he shook his head. “So one more time….why are you so anxious to find her? She turned down your proposal. She was not going to walk down the aisle with you. In fact, she wanted nothing to do with you…” Jacks stopped when Emily came around the front, storming into the shop. His eyes closed for a long minute. This wasn’t going to end well.
Chapter Fifteen
Emily was furious. The longer she paced and thought about it, the madder she became. And she was fed up with being afraid of a dream. She tapped him on the shoulder, her arm pulled back and high. Grace flinched in the doorway when Emily swung her palm in the long, strong arch across Demming’s face.
“That…is for trying to rape me!” Emily stepped forward and brought her knee up hard between his legs. “That…is for trying to rape me again!” She went behind him and shoved while he was groaning. “Now get out of here and if you come back again, I’ll have you arrested!”
Grace carefully stepped out of the way of the man staggering out of the shop, her head nodding in approval. She looked at Jack and shrugged.
“She got mad,” was all Grace said. “I’m off to lunch with Chet. Can we bring you anything back?”
“Uhh…no…I think we’re good…” Jack took Emily’s palm and pulled her back against him, his chin resting on her shoulder. Both of them watched Demming look once over his shoulder before climbing into a car and disappearing. “That’s some right hook you got, girl.”
“I am tired of being afraid, Jack.”
“I noticed. If I’d done that, we’d be brawling on the streets now….and you’d end up posting bail for me…”
“That dream last night…it was different…”
“Different how?” Her hands came to rest along his arms, her body relaxed against him.
“I was in this big room…a dining room, I think…and there were people all around…but no one would listen to me! No one…it was like the louder I shouted, the more they ignored me!” She said in amazement. “And…and I was scared…not of them…that you wouldn’t find me…that…”
“I will always find you,” he whispered the promise, holding her tightly against him. “I will always come for you….remember that, Emily.”
“But if…if the other dream…the one with him in it…wasn’t a dream but a bad memory…then this one must be real, too…I ran away because people wouldn’t listen to me,” Emily turned slowly in his arms, her palms on his face. “Your shop is empty.”
“Chet locks up when he leaves for lunch and I’m not there…I have the keys in my pocket,” he told her easily, his palms gliding from her waist to her behind. “Let’s talk about this suit…”
“Hmm…I think you like the new me…” Emily saw the fire burst in his eyes as she pressed closer.
“And the new hair color?”
“Grace says it lasts about ten washings…I’m going to try the new belly dancing outfit on in a few days and this color goes well with the colors…” She watched his eyes darken. “I will make certain you get a preview of it, Jack…” Emily let her hands fall between them, her finger drawn along the rigid shaft beneath his shorts.
“I should be embarrassed…”
“Because your girl turns you on? I hope not…I find it quite…empowering,” she whispered before kissing him. “I could close the shop…and show you what’s under the suit…” she lifted her foot from the floor, hitching it on the lower rung of the stool. Then she lifted his hand from her side, placing it on her knee and urging it higher.
Jack felt the silken stockings she wore, a part of his mind telling him not to explore any further in public. Then his palm found flesh and a thin strap holding the stocking in place. His hands went to her waist, setting her to the side before striding to the front, turning the out to lunch sign over and closing the door with the sound of a lock clicking.
Emily was struggling to keep from giggling when he came back, gripping her palm and leading her from the shop. She quickly locked the back door and tried to keep up with him.
“Jack!” A gurgle of laughter burst free and she pulled on her hand. “I cannot move that fast in this skirt!” She watched him turn, the look in his eyes making her shake her head. “No! Jack! No, don’t you…” She tried backing up but the skirt definitely worked against her. “Jack!” Her squeal bubbled forth from his shoulder, his arm wrapped safely around her and holding her in place. “Oh, god…the neighbors…”
“Probably thinking I’m cheating on you with a damn sexy British wench,” Jack told her without pausing, setting her on the floor once they were inside the apartment. “You’ve created a monster, woman…”
“I happen to like my monster,” she whispered sexily. Emily laughed softly, taking his palm and leading him into the bedroom, her hips swaying seductively. “Sit…and take off your shoes…”
“Emily…” Jack saw the single finger she held up.
Emily moved to stand in front of him, slowly removing the tailored jacket and hanging it from the door knob.
Jack felt his body tighten when she reached behind her head and pulled the pins holding her hair in place, long, dark waves falling down her back and shoulders. Her fingers opened the buttons down the front of the scarlet blouse, leaving it hang as she reached behind her to open the zipper and slowly ease the skirt down her long legs. She stepped out of the skirt and laid it on the chair, giving him an excellent view of the scarlet garter and panties, the three inch heels giving her a sexy sway as she walked.
Jack groaned and did nothing to smother the sound. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, watching her stride to the night stand and lift one of the packets from the drawer, handing it to him before sliding the blouse off and hanging it on the door. She wore a skimpy lace bra beneath. Her thumbs hooked in the sides of her panties, her eyes on his when the single word came free.
“Don’t…”
“Shhh…” Emily knew what he wanted to say, peeling the panties down her legs very slowly, stepping from them and moving to put her hands on his waist. She tugged until he stood up, opened his shorts and pushed his boxers and shorts to the floor before pressing herself against him. His hands moved immediately to her behind, lifting her against him with a long, deep groan. They tumbled back onto the bed, Emily’s palms on his face, kissing him deeply.
“Christ, Emily…” Jack knew a sensuous femininity in her that he’d never experienced before, his body hard beyond what he thought possible. Her hips moved against him, amber coils teasing his erection, silky stockings stroked where her legs were stretched out along him, sliding to the sides and hugging him. He moved the bra to the side, capturing her nipple, suckling and teasing. The sweet sounds of her arousal, the scent of her heat burned into his senses over and over.
“Jack…oh my…yes…please…” Emily slid to the side, frantically opening the buttons of his shirt while he was growling at the packet and preparing himself. She shoved the shirt off his shoulders and pulled him over top of her, opening herself to him, her chest heaving with desire. Her eyes closed tightly when he moved to her, dropping kisses over her stomach and lower, taking that swollen part of her, teasing it with his tongue and mouth, his fingers stroking the hot dew flowing in her need.
Jack raised himself up when her hands clenched at the blankets, he lif
ted one of her legs and put it on his waist as he fit himself to her. Fingers stroked the fire boiling in her as he eased himself inside, backing out and in with increasingly powerful thrusts. The erotic feel of her stockings against his waist coupled with the violent constrictions inside her pulled him over the edge with Emily. He vaguely heard her call out to him as they were swept away, the culmination of her strip tease exploding around them both.
Emily allowed her arms to fall to the bed, a long low sigh breaking free when his forehead touched hers, their lips barely brushing.
“That was amazing,” she breathed deeply, flexing her muscles and giggling when he groaned before pulling himself free and going into the bathroom.
“Amazing doesn’t do it justice,” Jack returned, pulling his shorts and boxers back on and finding where he’d dropped his shirt. “You look incredibly sexy…”
“I feel incredibly sexy,” she assured him, leaning up on her elbows and smiling. “So you like the stockings, huh?”
“On you…amazing,” he teased, pulling her to her feet and indulging in a long, slow kiss. He watched her sigh as she stepped away from him, pulling a light colored girl tee shirt on. “The suit?”
“Belongs in the costume closet,” Emily carefully undid the garters and rolled the silken stockings down her legs. “Chloe needed a good picture for the poster she’s making up for the shop.”
“And those?” He wasn’t sure what was going through his mind.
“Mine…but we sell them in the shop,” she said with a smile that faded slightly as she put on her panties and capri pants.
“Those? In the shop?”
“Jack…adults play with all types of costumes,” she stepped up to him, her palm on his face. “What’s wrong? Something seems to be bothering you…”
“I just hauled you off in the middle of the day because I couldn’t…”
WindSwept Narrows: #3 Emily Temple Page 13
