Beneath the table his leg slid against hers and heat flared through her body from the point of contact outward. Her mind scrambled as images of the night club came flooding back and she struggled to keep up with the conversation. Damn her traitorous body. Why in the hell did he always have to sit so close?
“Emma, what do you think?”
At the sound of her name her attention snapped up to meet Gene’s stare. Once again because of Holt she’d gotten caught daydreaming. “Um…I think you always have great ideas, Mr. France.” Please let that be the right answer.
He gave her answer a nod. “I appreciate the faith you have in my creativity, Em. So this will be the script we go with. Agreed?”
Emma reached a hand beneath the table and in an attempt to put even a little distance between them, gave Holt’s leg a shove. The faint chuckle that followed rippled up her spine like great back rub. Damn him. “Agreed,” she answered and managed to shoot Holt what she hoped was a sufficient evil eye.
“Good.” Gene nodded. “Emma you coordinate with Holt and William to go over the details.” He leveled a finger at her. “You make sure they both understand the ramifications of this match. It’s not only the show ender, but could turn ugly if they’re not careful. They both need to stay on script.”
“Yes sir.” Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Holt’s grin widen. Great! Not only did she not have a clue of what she was supposed to be coordinating now she was stuck spending even more time with Holt. At least The Embalmer would be in the room with them.
* * *
For the next hour Emma fretted over her task until a frustrated Jill finally spoke up. “What’s the deal? You are a distracted mess.”
Emma sighed. “I’m sorry. Gene wants me to coordinate tonight’s main event between Holt and William.”
Jill shook her head. “That’s not part of your job description.”
“What job description?” Emma shot back. I don’t have a job description. Whatever Mr. France wants me to do, I do.”
For a moment Jill appeared to consider Emma’s statement before giving an agreeing nod. “Maybe, but why does that task seem to have you so wound up anyway?” No sooner had she finished her question when a dawning awareness lit in Jill’s eyes. “Oh I see why you’re so twisted.” She laughed. “Geez, Emma would you just hook up with the boy already and stop torturing yourself and everyone else?”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Whose side are you on?”
“Mine.” Jill angled a thumb against her chest. “I’m all for whatever will make my life easier and right now, you my friend are a basket case.”
“I am not,” Emma argued.
“Ha!” Jill shot back. “Have you looked in the mirror lately? “You’ve been slowly sliding down the hill into insanity for several weeks now.” Jill placed her hands on Emma’s shoulders and shook. “As your friend, I’m begging you…If you have any love for your friends or co-workers stop the insanity. Go claim your man before you completely tumble off the edge into madness.”
* * *
Jill’s words rang in Emma’s ears as she stood outside the locker room causing her stomach to roll. Had this situation really escalated to the point that it now affected those around her also? Even if it had, none of that changed the fact that right now she had a job to do. She steadied her nerves, shored up her resolve, and raised a hand to knock on Holt’s temporary dressing room door.
She didn’t have a very good feeling about this impending match, which only added to her anxiety. William was in Derek’s camp when it came to opinions on Holt and he’d made his feelings known on more than one occasion. There was no love lost between the men and Emma’s concern began to grow as she mulled over the match. Before she could knock, the door swung open and Holt shot her one of his million megawatt smiles.
“Hey, Gorgeous. I’ve been waiting for you.”
Her involuntary smile returned. What was it about the man that always managed to pull that reaction from her? “You always seem to be waiting for me.”
“That’s because you keep turning me down.”
She pushed past him. “I have my reasons.”
He chuckled and let go of the door. The solid thud of it closing sent a shiver up Emma’s spine. Alone in a room with Holt Hendricks might be her secret dream, but no way would it bode well for her reality. “Where’s William?”
“He said he’d be here shortly. In the meantime…” He took a step toward Emma. The predatory look in his eyes had her taking a step back in retreat, but her back hit the wall. His piercing eyes stared down at her as he grazed a knuckle along her cheek, sending a flare of desire raging through her system. “You’ve been avoiding me, sweetheart.”
“N-no, I haven’t,” she whispered. “Not intentionally.”
His fingers slid along the nape of her neck, caressing her flesh. “You can’t lie to me, Em and you shouldn’t lie to yourself.” He lowered his head toward her and her heart sped up as she realized his intent. This was so not a good idea. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to stop him.
He brushed the softest of kisses along her lips and Emma’s knees threatened to give out. “I don’t know what you’re so afraid of.” He kissed her cheek, then her other cheek. “I know you have feelings for me and I have feelings for you.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “So why do you continually deny us what we both want?”
She lifted a shaky hand and pressed it to the hard wall of his chest. “B-because I don’t want to risk hurting my family or just become another of your conquests,” she finally blurted.
He froze and the look in his eyes went from hunger to hurt as he slowly backed away. “You were never a conquest to me, Em. I really like you.”
Guilt welled inside her like an inflating balloon. “I-I’m sorry, but you have a reputation with the ladies. Plus with the way you and Derek hate each other. I just thought…” Realizing she was digging herself a deeper hole, she let her sentence trail off.
“You thought I was trying to get at Derek by using you?” He took another step back as the hurt look on his face grew. “Do you really think so little of me?”
“No.” Guilt turned to panic and Emma reached for him only to have him evade her touch. The pain of his rejection stung more that she could have imagined. She let her hand fall back to her side. “I-I’m sorry. Derek made the suggestion when you first started flirting with me and well…” She shook her head as she realized just how much damage her words had caused. “I shouldn’t have automatically jumped to such a conclusion.”
He turned away from her and walked across the room, then dropped down onto the bench. “No, you shouldn’t. Just so you know if you were nothing more than a conquest to me, I wouldn’t have spent so much time trying to get to know you.” He looked up and the pained expression on his face cut her at her core. “I would have moved on already. As for my rivalry with Derek…I can kinda understand why you might think what you do, but as far as I’m concerned the bad blood between me and Derek stays between me and Derek. I would have never used you like that.”
The guilt returned as she stared at him from across the room. At that moment she would have done damn near anything to make things right between them. “Holt-”
Before she could finish the sentence the door opened and in walked William Knutson, better known to the wrestling world as The Embalmer. “Okay, let’s get this planning session over. I have an appointment with the trainer in a half hour.”
Chapter 4
Still suffering from an attack of guilt Emma picked at her salad as she vented to Marissa. “I’m telling you Riss. I really hurt him and I so totally didn’t mean to.”
Marissa popped a grape into her mouth and cocked her head to the side. “After what you just told me I’m not surprised he’s hurt. I would be too.”
Emma barely managed not to roll her eyes. “Thanks a lot for the support. And here I thought you were my friend.”
“I am your friend,” Marissa shot back. “And as your best frien
d it is my duty to be honest with you, which means telling you when you’ve been a jackass.” She picked up the small bunch of grapes and pulled another one free. “What in the world ever made you think that Holt would stoop so low as to use you to get back at Derek?”
“I don’t know.” Emma dropped her fork into her salad and sat back in her chair. “Derek mentioned one time about how Holt was flirting with me all the time and then suggested that it might be an angle.”
“Well that explains it,” Melissa jeered. “Why in the hell do you listen to him, Em?”
“He’s my brother, Riss. He’s watched over me since I was little and at this point he and Bryan are all the family I have left.”
“Okay,” she held up a hand stopping Emma’s rant. “I understand about family loyalty, but you also need to think for yourself. I knew there was something between me and Garrett the first time I was within a few feet of him. There was an attraction that just pulled at me. As much as I wanted to ignore how I felt, I couldn’t.”
Emma frowned. “You’ve been here two weeks, Riss. How can you possibly know that Garrett is the one?”
Marissa grinned. “I just know. I can’t explain it, and even if I could I’m not sure I’d want to. There’s something sexy and mysterious about an unexplained attraction to another.”
Emma picked up her fork and resumed picking at her salad. “I’m guessing you’ve slept with him already.”
“Damn straight I have and let me tell you…” She shook her fingers as if she’d been burned.
Emma held up a hand stopping her mid sentence. “I don’t want to know the gory details of your sexual escapades with Garrett.”
“But-”
Emma shook her head. “I’m serious. I have to work with him and I don’t need unsavory images or thoughts stuck in my head when I’m looking at him.”
Marissa giggled “Spoil sport.”
“Whatever.” Emma waved her fork in the air. “So how did your dad take the news that you and Garrett are really involved?
Marissa shrugged. “He didn’t like it at first, but he wants me to be happy.” She reached across the table and placed a hand over Emma’s. “I’m sure that’s all Derek wants for you too, Em. Would he be thrilled about you and Holt being together? Probably not, but I guarantee he’d get over it if he knew you were truly happy.”
“I don’t know,” Emma sighed as she pushed her plate to the middle of the table. “The whole situation is do damn confusing.”
“What’s to be confused about?’ Marissa asked. “I promise if you just shut off your brain and follow your heart it will all work out.”
“Maybe, but it’s probably too late anyway. I hurt Holt bad and I can’t blame him if he never forgave me.”
“Well,” Marissa let go of her hand and returned to her food. “I have it on good authority that his feelings for you run pretty deep. I think if you just give him some time this all might work out.”
* * *
The muffled roar of the crowd penetrated Emma’s headset and she finally turned her attention from the clipboard to the monitor. Until now she’d avoided watching Holt’s match. Certain wrestlers, including her brothers, she simply couldn’t watch. Despite knowing the matches were choreographed to a certain degree, the violence and risk of injury were still great enough she had to look away. Within the last few weeks Holt had been added to that list. Tonight was even worse considering who he was fighting.
Currently Holt stood perched on the top turnbuckle prepared to perform a flying elbow drop. It was a high risk maneuver that if performed correctly was a spectacular sight, but if something went wrong could end in disaster. Holt leaped, flew through the air and landed a perfect elbow before rolling away. Inside Emma cheered but outside she held her breath.
Just because The Embalmer was down didn’t mean he was out. William ‘The Embalmer’ Knutson was a certifiable maniac in the ring and damn near as crazy in real life. He was taller than Holt, outweighed Holt by a good forty pounds and was certainly meaner than Holt could ever think about being. As if those things weren’t enough to set Emma’s nerves on edge, Holt had all but snubbed her before his entrance. Instead of getting a ‘Hey Gorgeous’ and one of Holt’s devastating smiles he’d walked past her to his spot near the curtain to wait for his cue. His snub hurt more than she ever thought possible.
She’d just turned away when a loud groan ripped through the crowd and she jerked her attention back to the monitor. Within seconds she was riveted to the screen watching as Holt and William beat the hell out of each other. They were definitely giving the crowd a good show but after working with them for so long, deep down she could tell something wasn’t right. Cues were being ignored and each wrestler’s moves grew more forceful as the match went on. Her stomach twisted and turned to glance at the clock. There was less than ten minutes left. Please don’t let him get hurt.
Garrett ambled up beside her. “They’re really going at it.”
“I know,” Emma murmured wishing time was already up. She felt it deep in the pit of her stomach. Something bad was going to happen. She didn’t know exactly what, but with the way they were pummeling each other there wasn’t any way this match would end well. Holt clothes lined The Embalmer, knocking him backward over the top rope out of the ring. He landed with a thud to the mat below.
For several long seconds The Embalmer didn’t move, then the camera panned to Holt who for a second time climbed to the top of the turnbuckle. He’d just set and prepared to leap when suddenly The Embalmer reared up and lunged at him. With a hard shove he sent Holt sailing off the ropes backward into the announcers table. The crowd went wild and Emma’s heart nearly stopped. That wasn’t what they’d worked out in practice. She sucked in a strangled breath as she waited for Holt to move.
“William’s gone off script.” She looked up at Garrett and saw the same concern in his eyes. There were times when wrestlers would go off script because it was necessary, even the right thing to do. This wasn’t one of those times.
The Embalmer pulled a barely conscious and now bleeding Holt from the mangled remains of the table and immediately shoved him into the ring’s steel post. Only Holt’s hands weren’t up to block the hit like they should have been. His head bounced off the ring post with a resounding thud and his knees immediately buckled.
Horrified, Emma watched the monitor not quite believing her eyes. The Embalmer not only went completely off script, but was in the process of purposely trying to seriously injure Holt. Terror streaked through her system as she glanced up at Garrett a second time. They both knew Mr. France wanted the best show for the fans, but at whose expense?
The Embalmer practically threw Holt back into the ring. Face completely bloody, he rolled to a stop on the mat and didn’t move. The Embalmer pinned him with an easy 1-2-3 count. With a sigh of relief that the match ended, Emma listened as the final directions were given and the television feed cut off, signaling the end of the show. However the camera’s continued to roll to tape and The Embalmer continued his assault. He hopped from the ring, pulled up the skirt and searched underneath. Apparently not finding what he wanted he turned to the now abandoned announcers table and grabbed a metal chair.
Bile rose in her throat as she realized his intent. This had to stop before Holt ended up seriously hurt, if he wasn’t hurt already. Emma removed her headset and handed it to Jill. “Signal the medics, find Dr. Andrews and get the ambulance ready.”
“Wait,” Jill called as Emma turned toward Garrett. “Emma, where are you going?”
“To stop William from killing Holt,” Emma shouted as she motioned for Garrett to follow. “I need wrestlers and refs to help now,” she yelled and ran toward the entryway. Within seconds she could hear several pair of feet slapping the metal floor as they raced toward the ring.
The crowd, who had yet to disband, went wild yet she barely noticed as Garrett moved ahead of her and slid into the ring followed by several other wrestlers who quickly disarmed The Embalmer and
fought to get him under control.
Emma crawled into the ring and eased over to Holt. “Holt, can you hear me?”
His head lulled to the side and a moan slid from his lips as he began to come to.
“It’s okay, honey. Help is coming.” Emma placed a hand on his shoulder only to find herself immediately tumbling across the mat. Stunned, she scrambled to her knees and backed into the corner as she watched Holt somehow manage to stagger to his feet. Garrett reached for him only to receive a punch to the jaw as Holt swung out at anyone who attempted to get near him. In fight or flight mode he wobbled in the ring, wildly thrashing out as she sat in the corner watching.
Several of the wrestlers now had The Embalmer heading up the ramp, leaving only Garrett and three refs to deal with Holt. None of them seemed to be making any progress with calming him down. This was a side of Holt she’d never seen before and it terrified her. Even his best friend couldn’t seem to penetrate the wall of fear Holt appeared to be trapped behind.
Determined to reach him Emma pushed to her feet. “Holt. Holt stop,” she yelled.
Whether it was the sound of his name or the sound of her voice that caused him to pause, Emma didn’t know. She only hoped to capitalize on the opportunity. “E-Emma,” he murmured.
“That’s right,” she did her best to sooth as she inched closer. Hopefully the wrongness of her being in the ring would confuse him enough to make him stop. Hopefully he’d realize if she was there, then danger wasn’t. “I’m here to help you.”
“Emma,” he repeated, this time with a bit more conviction as if by saying her name somehow seemed to be helping him to chase the fear away.
She placed a gentle hand on his arm. “That’s right. I’m here, Holt. It’s over. Let me help you.”
He turned his bloody face toward her and appeared to be staring at her. “You’re here?”
“I’m here,” she cooed as she slid beneath his shoulder and wrapped his arm around her. She wasn’t sure how much support she could be to him, but she was going to give him whatever assistance she could. “I’m here. Let me help you. Let Garrett help you.”
Wrestling Desire Page 3
