Between You and Me

by Lynn Turner

  She leaned in to take a look. “Uh-huh.”

  ****

  Finn had powered on the camera perched atop a tripod to record the exchange from the moment Emanuela had taken her seat. He leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. She looked like an eager pupil with her wide eyes and her upper body leaning toward Simon in interest. He smiled to himself, watching the pair on the small screen.

  “Those are sensors,” Simon continued. “The sensors are arranged in this pattern so that the prosthetic hand isn’t rigid, but moves fluidly, much like your hand, Miss Monroe.”

  “Ahhh,” she said, understanding. “May I touch it?”

  “Of course! You can even shake the hand.” He eased it toward her so he didn’t spook her. “Don’t be gentle. Get in there and squeeze it nice and firm, the way you’d shake an adult’s hand.”

  She raised her hand and grasped the prosthetic, wincing at the unusual sensation of the synthetic fingers gripping her hand right back.

  “Whoa,” she said again. “It feels…warm…and soft, like a real hand.”

  “Precisely! The softness is the silicone, and the temperature is controlled by those snake-like sensors that mimic the temperature of human skin. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

  She returned his infectious smile.

  “There is still some time before dinner,” he said. “Would you care for some refreshment?”

  “I would,” she said, playing along.

  There were no utensils at her place setting. She looked up, and the prosthetic hand lifted a butter knife, holding the handle between its forefinger and thumb, using it to spread softened butter onto her toast.

  “Amazing,” she breathed, “but how—”

  He tapped the strange helmet he wore, waggling his brows.

  “Finn outfitted me with this wonderfully fantastical contraption for today’s demonstration,” he boasted.

  “I did,” Finn said, still filming. “A prosthetic hand can do more than a leg, so it makes for a more impressive prototype. Since I’m the only metahuman here,” he joked, “this is the best way to demonstrate the way the prosthetic interacts with the nerves, and, by extension, the brain. The program you saw on the monitor behind me picks up each movement and translates it to a 3D image.”

  Emanuela’s gaze practically caressed him. “It’s remarkable. I’m excited to see more.”

  Finn was glad she’d turned around because the look she gave him before she returned her attention to Simon just about knocked him on his ass. Dammit, Finn! There had been nothing suggestive in her tone—but those eyes. The woman had a champion’s poker face. She was all poise and professionalism. But her flirting made him want to snatch her to him and wreck that pristine picture, to kiss her stupid and mess up her hair. A muffled groan escaped him at the thought. Thankfully, the others in the room were immersed in conversation and missed his audible blunder.

  Jesus. Keep it together!

  The next half hour was mental agony. He was confident in the product itself. He hadn’t been bluffing in their meeting yesterday. What he and Simon had accomplished was a big deal. Philip Hurst was her employer, yet Emanuela was the one they needed to impress. Although he didn’t want to disappoint her or let Simon down, he was impatient to spend some time alone with her before she left Seattle. It was challenging enough to wait the entire morning without seeing her, or calling her feigning confusion about some point or other. He knew he needed to let her do her job, so he refrained from making a fool of himself.

  He learned the limits of his patience that afternoon, forcing himself to stay collected and finish filming their demonstration for Hurst Capital. He brought the camera close to get a clear shot of the prosthetic grasping a cup of ice water, and Emanuela’s look of amazement that the glass didn’t shatter from the strength of the prosthetic, or slip from the condensation on the glass. For the humble but sweet finale, the prosthetic lifted the rose from its vase and offered it to Emanuela.

  She clapped and looked into the camera with a smile. “I think we’ve got enough.”

  She sent Philip the footage for supporting material, and then made a conference call to Mr. Hamilton and Philip. They took a few minutes to confirm any new details in documentation before she put her phone on speaker so that Simon and Finn could hear the good news.

  “Congratulations, gentlemen,” Philip’s voice rang loud and clear. “We’re partners! Looking forward to working with you.”

  Finn, Simon and Mr. Hamilton exchanged congratulations, and Emanuela turned the speaker off to talk with Philip. Finn didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he was closing down a few programs and she was very close to his desk, wrapping up her conversation with her boss.

  “Good work. You must have been up pretty late recalculating logistics,” Philip said.

  “I was, but I think you’ll see that it was worth it.”

  “I’m sure I will. We’ll celebrate when you get back! And Em…”

  “Hmm?”

  “You’re my best guy.”

  “Thanks, Boss. See you Monday.”

  Finn wondered at the familiarity he detected in the tone of the conversation. It was obvious Emanuela had earned the trust and respect of her employer. Nonetheless, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there might be something else between them. Though he tried not to let it bother him, he longed to get her all to himself, and hearing Philip’s endearment for her wasn’t helping matters. She was just an arm’s length away from him, and he was about to take that moment to ask her out again, but Simon got to them first. He stifled a groan.

  Simon turned to Emanuela. “How about that, huh? I think this is cause for celebration! I’m meeting my husband for dinner later if you’d care to join us. Finn, you can come too.” He grinned.

  The pained look on Finn’s face must have given him away, because her eyes grew glassy and black before she tore them away and offered Simon a polite smile. “That’s very kind of you, Doctor Faulk—”

  “Call me Simon, Emanuela, if I may? You’ve seen my home and played with my toys so I’d like to think that we’re friends now.”

  “Simon,” she said. “I have to take a rain check. I’ve already made plans for this evening. I’m a huge fan of your husband though, and I look forward to meeting Jamie soon.” This time she reached for Simon first, anticipating that he would give her one of his hugs.

  “Until then, Emanuela,” he said with a final squeeze to her slim shoulders. “Finn?”

  “I have some things to attend to myself, Sy,” Finn declined in a gruff voice.

  Emanuela’s eyes met his briefly before they looked away again.

  “All right, I’ll see you Monday!” Simon said, oblivious to the undercurrent between the pair.

  The men shared an exuberant handshake-turned-hug, a gesture that drove it home that they had done it. They’d accomplished what they had set out to do in the face of constant rejection, and they would remember this day for years to come. The magnitude of the moment wasn’t lost on Finn, but he felt like he had been waiting no less than an eternity for the chance to be near Emanuela again in a way that would seem inappropriate to the rest of their group.

  ****

  The door leading from the garage into the house had just clicked shut when Emanuela felt Finn’s presence behind her. Heat spread through her body. It started somewhere in her gut and sped its way to her throat, snatching the air from her lungs. She was frozen in place, waiting for him to make his move. Her skin tingled in anticipation, goosebumps rising on her arms. She tried to keep her breathing steady and even. The moment lasted seconds, maybe, but her mind took her back to Chicago eight months ago, back to the lounge where they were locked in the staring contest of a lifetime. That same charged air hummed between them. The same scent from his body permeated her senses and something inside her rejoiced to learn that it wasn’t courtesy soap. It was him.

  Then, finally, he touched her.

  They sighed in unison, his arms encircling her
, his big hands spanning her abdomen before locking her into a long embrace. Her body relaxed, her head falling back to rest against his shoulder. She felt him turn his face into her hair, heard him breathe her in like a drag from a cigarette. His deep, shuddering breath caressed her ear, making her shiver.

  She felt so secure in his arms, fitting his embrace like they were carved together. He hadn’t even spoken yet, and she felt her business veneer being stripped away. There was no need to pretend any longer that she didn’t want this, that she hadn’t been waiting for “tomorrow” to come when he’d ask her again. “Ask me,” she whispered.

  He loosened his hold, but before she could whimper in disappointment, his hands were at her waist, turning her to face him. He raised her chin with two of his fingers, his eyes locked on hers. “Have dinner with me, Emanuela.”

  His voice was so deep and rich, she felt like a wind instrument being filled with a soulful note. Every word resonated throughout her entire body and she found herself shivering again.

  “I’d love to.” Her eyes fell to his lips. They had tensed in expectation of her answer and she wanted to kiss them until they were soft and pliant again. He seemed to read her thoughts and moved his face closer to hers when the front door slammed shut and startled them from their embrace.

  Before he let her go, he asked, “Where are you staying?”

  “The Edgewater. Do you know it?” She didn’t want to move away but did so anyway. She wasn’t ready to advertise…whatever this was…just yet.

  “I do,” he said, returning her attaché and walking her out to her car.

  They waved at Simon as he drove by and Finn held her arms in his hands.

  “Pick you up at six.” He reached around her to open the door.

  She nodded and, on impulse, tilted her head to brush a soft kiss against his jaw. She pulled back, her eyes drinking their leisurely fill of him. His jeans, crewneck tee, and curling waves gave him a boyish charm, but his size and stance showed he was all strength and charisma. She felt her face warm at the amusement in his eyes at her obvious appraisal.

  “See you at six, Doctor Kane,” she said, teasing him with the formality. She slid into the seat with a devilish smile.

  He leaned in until they were face to face. “I’m prepared to work for it, Emanuela.”

  A furious blush rushed to her cheeks, and he grinned in smug satisfaction as he shut her door.

  Chapter Six

  Emanuela stood in her hotel room in nothing but her underwear, critically examining the garments hanging in her temporary closet. She hadn’t a clue what to wear. Nothing she’d packed for the short trip felt right for a date with Finn. She supposed she could transform one of her business dresses into suitable night attire with the right shoes and hair. I don’t want “suitable.” She tossed another perfectly decent sheath dress onto the bed in frustration.

  She wasn’t meeting friends for drinks after hours. She was having dinner with a gorgeous, exceptionally clever man who looked at her like she’d hung the moon. No, she didn’t want “decent” at all. She wanted to knock his socks off, and she wasn’t going to do that in any of her modest, albeit immaculate work frocks. The alarm clock on the nightstand said quarter to four. She bit her lower lip in thought. Deciding she was cutting it close but was sure she could manage, she rang the concierge for a cab.

  ****

  Finn was beside himself as he finished a close shave and smoothed back his hair. There was no question of a deep attraction between him and Emanuela. It was both subtle and strong; an undercurrent in every interaction that rose to the surface and overflowed with a look or a touch. They’d had a taste of it months ago, and all they’d done was shake hands for Christ’s sake.

  He splashed cold water on his face as if the shock to his skin would shut down his thoughts. A handshake had almost killed him, and he shuddered to think of what a kiss might do…in the best way. But he felt more than physical attraction to her. The way she’d looked at him when he’d first met her, like she could somehow see to the heart of him, had made him uncomfortable at the time. He’d made his hasty exit that night and spent weeks trying to forget her. But it’d been no use. She was burned into his brain. He’d grown to accept it.

  And now she wanted to get to know him. For the first time in as long as he could remember, there was restored vigor in his stride. He donned his jacket and navigated his modest silver Mercedes downtown to Emanuela’s waterfront hotel.

  ****

  Thirty minutes later

  Finn rounded the fountain and pulled his car to the front of The Edgewater. He started dialing Emanuela’s room, when movement near the entrance caught his eye. Seconds later, his heart slammed into his chest just once, and then stop beating altogether.

  Whatever he’d told himself before he left that evening about taking his time to get to know her…about the way they shared a connection that was more than merely physical, about exploring the new emotional awakening in his heart…was forgotten the instant he laid eyes on her.

  Jesus. His jaw went slack.

  She made her way toward him, looking like liquid gold. Her stilettos blended with her skin, making her well-formed legs look impossibly long. Her dress started at that tantalizing place on a woman’s thigh somewhere between demure and sinful, and hugged her everywhere it touched.

  The deep champagne hue of the silken fabric glimmered with each fluid movement of her hips. Every one of her soft curves was masterfully displayed. Finn’s eyes swept from her hips, up her slender waist, to the magnificent expanse of creamy, golden brown skin exposed by the top of the dress.

  That was his favorite part, where the dress curved into the shape of a heart at her chest and wrapped around her arms, leaving her shoulders deliciously bare. He drank in the tousled ebony waves that fell just past her shoulders. Soft bronze shimmered along her cheekbones and her big, molten brown eyes seemed even brighter, set off by shimmers of gold on her smoky lids. Her lips looked soft and inviting, glazed in honey tones and parted in an alluring smile.

  She was dead sexy and Finn was in a world of trouble.

  ****

  Emanuela almost stumbled at his reaction to her. To a stranger, his expression might have appeared hostile or pained, but she knew it was the way she affected him. She slowed her stride as she approached, her heart beating much too fast. She felt every pulse beat, watching him push off with his right foot to get out of the car and come around to meet her.

  A calm breeze carried his clean, masculine scent to her nostrils, making her breath hitch. She wanted to smooth her palms over the visible contours of his chest beneath his thin black sweater. He stopped in front of her and she stared into his eyes, his gray sports jacket making them appear more gray than blue. The way he looked at her made her want to fidget. She managed to control herself enough to get out a breathless, “Hi.”

  “Hi,” he greeted her, his voice deep and measured. “You look…” He couldn’t seem to find adequate words in his stupefied state, but his eyes traveled down her body again and worked their way back up, his words hanging in the thick air between them.

  She sucked in an audible breath at his visual caress, flushing at the knowing smile on his handsome face. He reached out to take her coat and drape it across her shoulders, his hands gliding along her arms before releasing her again.

  “Shall we?” he asked, opening her door.

  “Thank you.” She got in and reached for her seatbelt.

  His eyes met hers again. “Let me.”

  Though she was perfectly capable of fastening her own seatbelt, she had no intention of stopping him. She was playing with fire and she knew it, but in that moment she felt every bit the fire goddess. It made her feel powerful and wanted. He reached across her and fastened her seatbelt, stopping on his way out of the car to press a gentle kiss to her cheek before closing her door.

  “So, where are you taking me, Doctor Kane?”

  Finn grinned. “There’s a place about ten minutes from here t
hat serves some of Washington’s best wine. The cabernet is amazing. I remember you like red.”

  She was thrilled he remembered such a detail, but the memory of how that night ended stripped her of basic vocabulary. She felt his eyes on her, as if he could read her thoughts, and the electric energy returned.

  “The restaurant is called Canlis and it’s named after the family who started it,” he said. “It’s been around since the fifties and the backdrop is incredible. I figured since I don’t have time to show you the city, I could at least pick a place with a great view.”

  “I have a thing for those.”

  “One of the original owner’s sons lives in Scotland and cultivates one of the rarest single malt whiskey collections in the country. In case you’ve acquired a taste for it.”

  “Not a chance. Now I know the real reason you chose this place.”

  Their banter lasted the short drive to the restaurant. Parking was valet only, and Emanuela was surprised when the attendant provided no ticket to claim the car.

  “They never get it wrong,” Finn said with a smile.

  ****

  The restaurant was the picture of rustic modern elegance, with stone accents, soft lighting and broad windows with stunning views of Lake Union and the Cascade Mountains beyond. The atmosphere was downright romantic, and Finn couldn’t believe his luck that she was here with him.

  He guided her through the lobby where a warm fire burned and light strains from the grand piano filled the room. After climbing a short, curved and dimly lit set of stairs, they were welcomed into an intimate room featuring just a few tables, set some distance apart for privacy in front of floor-to-ceiling windows.

  “Wow,” she said. “This is lovely.”

  “As you are.” The pretty blush returned to her face.

  He stepped behind her to help remove her coat and was rewarded with a full view of her elegant back. He let his fingers brush the smooth skin he’d uncovered. He relieved her of her coat, his eyes falling to the enticing dip where her back met her rounded hips. His hand was drawn to that place, guiding her to her seat. He felt her tiny tremor at his touch and wanted nothing more than to explore her responses to his touch on every part of her.