Kiss Me

by Tory Richards

  Glancing down was his undoing. Her lovely breasts, crushed against him, were all but spilling out of their scant covering. The breath hissed from his lungs, lust shooting a direct path for his aching groin. Releasing a low growl of denial, he felt himself turning hard, and realized he should set her away from him at once. But she felt too damn good right where she was. As if she belonged there.

  The sensible part of his brain told Mike to distance himself now, before things went too far. Yet he held Emma tighter. Then it occurred to him that if he wasn’t going to turn her loose, he couldn’t very well continue to hold her without a justifiable reason. “Let’s dance,” he barked in a less than friendly tone.

  Surprise registered on her face but he didn’t give her a chance to turn him down. He dragged her onto the dance floor, crushing her against him as they began to sway to the music. A giggle escaped Emma almost immediately, causing him to frown. The music blaring through the room was a lively, upbeat tune. Not particularly to his tastes but it allowed him to keep her close. The couples brave enough to dance to it were nothing but a blur of activity near them, spinning around the room like tops out of control.

  “You think this is funny?” he questioned gruffly, a little put out by her misplaced sense of humor. An aroused man was like an angry bear. Didn’t she know that? Course, he wasn’t making things easier by keeping her in his arms.

  Maybe he had made up his mind to get his kid raised and out of school before pursuing personal interests but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the foreplay, the forbidden excitement. The new excited rush of what could be. It didn’t have to lead anywhere, did it?

  He gave up trying to find a place to put his hands that didn’t end up on naked flesh, finally settling for the curve of Emma’s hips. She placed her hands on his shoulders naturally, drawing her body closer to his. Before Mike realized what he was doing, his hands slowly rose to her waist and above, halting beneath the swell of her breasts. It was a move he was going to pay for. He tried to halt the sudden rush rolling through his blood but it wasn’t fast enough to keep his senses from going into overdrive.

  “I wasn’t laughing over this,” Emma began, referring to the unspoken frustration of the feelings surging through them. “I was laughing at the music. We’re slow dancing.”

  “Emma…” He pulled back far enough to look into her eyes. “That was five minutes ago,” he pointed out.

  A low, seductive laugh escaped her. “I couldn’t talk five minutes ago,” she admitted without thinking. It was dark but Mike could make out the flash of fire in her eyes before she lowered her lids and released a long sigh that echoed his feelings too. “This isn’t right,” she said regretfully, scanning the crowd nervously.

  “Just be thankful we’re in a public place.” His hands smoothed down to the curve of her hips, splaying out to include the rounded slopes of her buttocks. “Or you still wouldn’t be able to talk.” There was no way she couldn’t know what he meant.

  She gasped in what he could only ascertain was shock before pulling out of his arms and taking a step back. Mild anger and disapproval laced her bitter words. “I’m sorry, Mike, but I’m not in the habit of sleeping around, especially with married men.”

  Before he could stop her, Emma turned and marched away. Married man? Where the hell had that come from? He watched her weave through the crowd, wondering if she knew something he didn’t. He hadn’t been married for a long time, not since Sharon had walked out four years before and he’d filed for divorce and custody of Melissa.

  Then it came back to him, that day in the dugout when Melissa had called out to him after the game. He recalled the look in Emma’s eyes, the hurt expression. She must have heard and drawn her own conclusion. It was just as well, he thought, heading back to the punch bowl. One of them had to keep a cool head, and if the trick were letting Emma believe he was married, he’d take advantage of it. Even if it was going to cost him his sanity when she was around.

  * * * *

  How could Mike be so deceitful? Richard’s face flashed before Emma’s eyes, along with the memory of all the nights he’d called to say he was working late. The weekend trips he’d taken across country in search of new and unusual recipes to prepare in their successful restaurant. Trips that later she’d discovered he hadn’t taken alone. What possessed a man to think it was okay to cheat on the woman who loved him?

  She didn’t glance back but knew Mike was watching her. The telltale sting behind her eyes warned her she was going to cry, the thought angering her only more. Why did he have to be so darn appealing? When she was in his presence, all her good sense went right out the window. Was this how it had been for Richard in the beginning? Had he struggled between right and wrong before giving into the weakness?

  She stormed into the ladies room and grabbed for her coat, angry disappointment spilling over onto her cheeks. Whipping the mask and veil off, she wiped at a tear before going to the sink to splash cool water on her eyes. The door opened and she glanced up in the mirror to see Lady Marian walk in. She grabbed a paper towel and quickly dried her face before tossing the paper towel away.

  “Mom? What happened?” Amanda looked at her with concern, taking in the fact she was wearing her coat.

  There was no use fibbing, and Amanda wasn’t blind. “I’ve been crying.”

  “I can see that, but why? What happened?”

  Emma snorted. “Men. In particular, Zorro.” She ran her fingers through her hair, surprised to find them shaking.

  Amanda frowned, her eyes narrowing with something close to astonished disbelief. “Did Mike step out of line?”

  Sniffling, Emma raised a brow. “How did you know Mike was dressed as Zorro?”

  “I, ah…” She suddenly swung around to the sink, turning on the tap to wash her hands.

  If Emma didn’t know better she’d swear Amanda was killing time to come up with a good answer. Her suspicions grew when she refused to meet her eyes. “Did you see us dancing?” She slapped her hands on her hips, prepared to wait all night for an answer. “Well?”

  “You were dancing with him?” Amanda asked innocently, glancing at Emma in the mirror. At that point it was too late. Once they made eye contact, Emma knew what her sister was up to; guilt was written all over her face. She’d never been good at covering up or lying; the look in her eyes gave her away every time.

  “I know what you’re up to, little sister. I saw the look you gave Troy in the dugout the other day but I pushed my suspicions aside. You should have done your homework before deciding to play matchmaker. A married man is the last man I’d ever fall for.” Emma swallowed the half lie.

  Amanda’s eyes grew wide and she spun back around to face Emma, a look of total astonishment on her face. “A married man! Mom, you couldn’t be more wrong, Mike isn’t married. Whatever gave you that idea?”

  “But…” Emma’s thoughts drifted back to the day of the picnic and the young girl. She knew what she’d heard, and Mike had been the only man at the back of the dugout so her remark couldn’t have been meant for anyone else. Plus she’d seen him with the young girl later.

  As if reading her mind, Amanda added, “Mike’s a single dad. He has a thirteen-year-old daughter named Melissa. They’ve been on their own since Melissa was nine.”

  “A single dad, then why did he let me believe…” He could have corrected her when she’d made that comment about sleeping around but he hadn’t even tried. Unless he wanted her to believe he was married, but that didn’t make any sense. Was it just a game with him? Emma didn’t want to believe that. Something about Mike said he was past the age of playing games.

  “Did Mike tell you he was married?” Amanda asked, breaking into her thoughts.

  “Not exactly.” Emma slipped off her coat, a plan taking shape in her mind. “But he let me believe he was married.” She saw the confusion on Amanda’s face and shrugged. “I don’t know why it matters but I intend to find out.” In good time, she added to herself. “Don’t you d
are tell him I’m on to him, either. I want to see how far he intends to go with this.”

  “What are you doing?” Amanda asked, watching Emma hang her coat back up.

  Emma shot her a bright smile. “I’ve decided to stay a little longer. Halloween only comes once a year and I want to get my rentals worth for this costume.” Now that she knew the truth about Mike, things were going to get interesting. She wondered how long it would take before he cracked and made a confession.

  A lighthearted, more self-assured Emma rejoined the party, minus her mask this time. She couldn’t recall the last time she felt so carefree, a heady feeling due partly to finding out that Mike wasn’t married after all. Now she didn’t have to feel guilty about her naughty thoughts where he was concerned. Smiling like a silly schoolgirl, she went straight for the refreshment table, trying not to be obvious as she searched the room for Zorro.

  She eyed the punch bowl and helped herself to a generous serving, surveying the boisterous activity in the room. The party had almost doubled since her arrival and the volume of the music was almost loud enough to break eardrums. The dance floor was packed with writhing bodies and she laughed gaily when the jolly green giant swirled by with a tiny pea pod in his arms. Her eyes made a sweep of the room again. Where was Zorro?

  Two glasses later, she began to suspect the punch was laced with something. She was definitely feeling the hazy effect alcohol usually produced in her, making her lazy and relaxed. Not totally unpleasant. She set her cup down and reached for an orange cookie, hoping that would take the edge off.

  * * * *

  Mike watched Emma from across the room, getting brief glimpses of her as dancers twirled about in front of him. He figured it was safer this way. She made him want too fast, too hard, and that scared him. He’d dated on and off the last four years, had even gotten close to a couple women, but no one had come close to making him forget where he was. Emma made him forget everything but her.

  When they were on the dance floor, he could have easily done something that would have embarrassed them both. His lips quirked into a lopsided grin as he watched her drink down a second glass of punch as though it were water, instincts telling him she didn’t know it was laced with vodka. Someone brushed against him and he glanced down at Cleopatra, knowing immediately who was behind the heavy makeup and black, shoulder length wig. Trudy Evans had been trying to capture his attention all evening, and had been after him since moving into town the month before. How the hell had she figured out who he was?

  “Oh excuse me, Zorro!” she gushed like a blushing virgin, putting her hands on Mike’s arms. “Someone pushed me.”

  Mike doubted it. “It’s a good thing I was here to stop your fall,” he murmured, his gaze shooting back to where he’d last seen Emma. For a moment the crowd blocked his view and he moved his head from side to side to see around them, his eyes narrowing when he watched Frankenstein walk up to her. His mouth turned down as he realized Frankenstein was girl-happy Pete. Before he knew it she was in his arms and they were twirling wildly around the dance floor.

  Mike excused himself from Trudy, heading for the dance floor with purposeful strides.

  Chapter 6

  Emma didn’t really feel like dancing. Yet before she was able to vocalize her feelings, Frankenstein took her into his arms, swinging her onto the dance floor. The room began to swim immediately and she stumbled slightly, clutching the front of his costume for support.

  “Hello, beautiful lady!” he gushed with alcohol induced enthusiasm, his teeth startlingly white against a backdrop of green paint. “I can’t believe someone hasn’t snatched you up before now, my good fortune.”

  Definitely not hers, Emma thought, trying to remain on her feet. How did he move so fast wearing those lifts on his shoes? She turned her head automatically when he lowered his face, thinking he meant to kiss her.

  “Are you here alone?” he asked, his eyebrows dancing up and down.

  Frankenstein doing a Groucho Marx impersonation struck her funny bone and she started laughing. She hated lying but as soon as she pulled herself together, one lie passed through her lips anyway. “Sorry, no. I—”

  He made a disappointed sound, interrupting her. “That’s too bad.”

  As he twirled her wildly, she had no choice but to close her eyes and pray he didn’t release her. She stumbled a second time, laughing it off. Before she could apologize for her clumsiness, Frankenstein traded her for Snow White and Emma suddenly found herself in the arms of Zorro again.

  Grateful for the rescue, she looked deeply into his eyes. “Don’t I know you?” she teased, not protesting when he drew her more firmly against him. Almost protectively she couldn’t help notice, and a little thrill shot down her spine.

  Mike’s lips twitched with humor. “We’ve run into each other a time or two,” he responded, slowing down so she could keep up. “How about I take you home?”

  Her eyes widened with surprise. “I thought I told you I don’t sleep around,” she reminded him breathlessly, waiting for him to deny it.

  “That didn’t exactly come out right, I don’t mean take you home to bed; in case you weren’t aware of it, there was vodka in that punch.”

  That meant he’d watched her drink down two glasses. Was he actually blushing? Emma laughed gaily. “I thought it was spiked. But I am not drunk, you know, just a little dizzy—”

  “Do you know how just a little dizzy can be dangerous when you’re driving?” he interrupted in a hardened tone. “I can recall one too many alcohol-related accidents from my years in a squad car.”

  Emma arched a brow, taking offense to his tone of voice. “Before you interrupted me I was going to say, I’m just a little dizzy due to lack of food and being swung around the dance floor too fast.” She made a halfhearted effort to pull away from him.

  He easily held her against him, releasing a resigned sigh. “Sorry, I don’t know what it is, but when I’m around you…”

  “I rub you the wrong way?” she said with a smile, feigning an innocent yet knowing look in her eyes.

  “Something like that,” he mumbled, trying to return her smile but failing miserably. For the second time that night he was becoming aroused, clenching his teeth as if that alone would hold it at bay.

  He tried to think of something else, anything that would take his mind off her. For starters he raised his hands to her waist, realizing they’d fallen dangerously low. The memory of what her curvy bottom felt like in his hands caused a rush of heat to settle low in his belly, threatening to ignite at the slightest provocation. He began to wonder if he’d drunk a little more than his legal quota. Another major mistake, as far as Mike was concerned. He thought he heard a wistful sigh escape Emma but it was hard to tell with the music and conversation flowing around them.

  “So, ah, where’s your wife?” Emma’s radiant smile momentarily held Mike spellbound.

  “My, ah, wife?” Her question threw him for a loop until he remembered her last words to him. Thinking he was married was a good thing, right? Only lying went against the grain. “Right at the moment I don’t know,” he finally responded, sticking as close to the truth as he could. It wasn’t exactly a lie. He hadn’t seen Sharon since she deserted them and the last he heard she’d moved out of the state.

  “Is she here? I’d like to meet her.” She made a show of looking through the crowd around them as though she knew whom she was searching for.

  “No.” There was nothing like talking about his ex-wife to kill the desire riding Mike. It was as if Emma knew... He cut his silent thought in half, narrowing his eyes on her suspiciously, trying to see through the mischievous twinkle staring back at him. Did she know?

  “That’s a shame. How long have you been married?”

  He noticed that her hands were resting lightly on his shoulders, her fingers tapping to the beat of the music. Her eyes seemed to be avoiding his. She appeared to be looking around the room. A smile softened her mouth, making it appear as velvety and d
ewy as a rose pedal. He would have been married for sixteen years but found himself answering honestly. “Ten years. I think it’s time I take you home,” he remarked, quickly changing the subject. It was almost midnight and the party appeared to be winding down.

  “That’s not necessary.” She missed a step, her foot coming down on top of his. “Sorry…”

  As far as Mike was concerned she’d just proved his point about needing a ride home. The look in his eyes told her so. “I don’t mind. If memory serves me correctly, we don’t live that far away from each other.”

  “No, I mean I came with Amanda,” she explained. They stopped moving when the music stopped, remaining close.

  “Well, unless my eyes were deceiving me a few minutes ago, I saw Amanda leave.”

  Emma did move out of his arms then, her eyes widening. “She wouldn’t just leave me!” she said with disbelief.

  Mike watched her carefully, crossing his arms while she scanned the room with incredulity in her eyes. He gave her as long as she needed to accept her situation, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth when he saw her hike up her low hanging pants again.

  Finally she turned back to him. “Convinced?” He grinned.

  “I could always phone for a cab,” she hedged, “I can’t believe Amanda would just go off and leave me. She’s never done anything like that before.”

  The innocence behind Emma biting down on her bottom lip reminded Mike of something similar his daughter did when she was in trouble and afraid to tell him about it. “It’s my duty as an officer of the law, ma’am,” he drawled.

  “Because you think I’m inebriated?” She crossed her arms, which wasn’t a very good idea, considering the action pushed her breasts up and drew his attention there. Her challenging stance amused him. He knew he was using the two glasses of punch she’d consumed earlier as an excuse to take her home.