Kiss Me
Page 7
She was kidding, her eyes glimmering with amusement and her tone light, yet Mike couldn’t get past the picture of her on the dance floor earlier that night, or the feel of her in his arms. She had a lethal body all right; he was sure he’d be dreaming about her long after they parted.
Reminding himself he needed to get back to where the shooting had occurred, he quickly worked the buttons free and slipped the coat off her shoulders, suddenly wishing they weren’t standing beneath the streetlight. He stepped back, trying like hell not to let his eyes wander below her chin.
“While you do that, I’m going inside where it’s warm,” she quipped, turning for the front door.
He watched her as he shook out her coat, his gaze dropping down the length of her backside as she unlocked the door and flipped on the light. She turned his way, standing there for a moment, nothing but a shapely silhouette in the threshold. Something told him if she knew the light was filtering through her costume right now, she’d die of embarrassment. He hoped the darkness hid the predatory gleam in his gaze as he slowly made his way toward her, seeing Emma in a completely different light now. Literally.
The lighting at the Halloween party had been dimmed low for affect, and the disco lights on the dance floor had made everything seem distorted. The bright light behind her enabled Mike to see the full effect of her body in the costume. A single thought flashed across his mind: fantasy. He struggled to keep his glance impersonal as he closed the distance between them, but halfway down her body something caught his eye.
As he narrowed his gaze, it didn’t take him long to determine she’d been cut on the leg, the glass clearly slicing right through the sheer fabric covering her thighs. “Looks like you’ve been nicked,” he commented, stopping in front of her.
Emma followed the direction of his gaze. “So I have,” she agreed with complete surprise. “I didn’t even feel it.”
“Do you have a first aid kit?” He stepped further into the room, closing the door behind him and dropping her coat on the back of a chair. “I’ll take a look at it to make sure the glass is out and you don’t need any stitches.”
“That’s not necessary,” she began, smiling up at him. “I’m sure peroxide and a Band-Aid will do.”
Mike glanced at her long and hard, before raising a brow that he knew usually intimidated people into doing what he wanted. There was no way he was leaving there until he made sure she was all right. The cut was high up on her thigh and he suspected Emma was afraid of letting him get that close to her. “If you’re worried about modesty, don’t be. I’ve delivered babies before.” That should take care of her sudden shyness.
“My, you are a talented man,” she quipped. “A detective and a doctor.”
“It comes with the costume,” he joked in return. “Now, what about that kit?”
She turned and began walking away from him. “I’ll get it; it’s in the bathroom under the sink, but I doubt it has much in it. I haven’t opened it since Amanda was a child.”
Mike was close behind her so when she bent to open the cabinet beneath the sink, he slammed right into her. His hands automatically went to her hips to keep her from flying forward and for the briefest moment their positions were as intimate as they could get. He released her as if he’d been scorched, instinctively reaching up to flip on the light switch. It was obvious Emma hadn’t known he’d followed her. She released a nervous laugh, straightening up and meeting his eyes in the brightness of the bathroom light, while taking a nervous step back. The bathroom wasn’t all that big and when Mike stepped further into the room, it shrank even smaller.
“Sorry if I frightened you.” As he spoke he looked around the room, searching for a good place for her to sit. There was only one place high enough. “Up.” He patted the vanity top.
“Up? I don’t think…”
Before she could brace herself, Mike’s hands went to her waist, hoisting her up without any trouble. She caught her breath when her legs came in contact with the cold marble surface.
“You were saying?” He took in her pretty blush, noticing she couldn’t meet his eyes.
“Do you always get your way?” There was a slight tremor in her voice, which didn’t go unnoticed by Mike. He couldn’t help wondering if she was as affected as he was by their close proximity. He began questioning his common sense. Her sitting on the vanity brought their mouths almost at eye level.
“When it matters,” he responded. He lowered his gaze, taking in the blood soaking her costume before opening the kit to see what it offered. Not much, but at least it had bandages and antibiotic ointment. He set it aside and reached for Emma’s leg.
She stiffened immediately. “Ouch.”
His gaze shot up to hers. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”
“I’m practicing,” she said with sass.
The light in her eyes caught Mike’s interest and turned him warm inside. For a second he wanted to do something crazy, like kiss that soft mouth. He wanted to know if it tasted as sweet as it looked. He wondered if kissing her would erase the humor that always seemed present in her eyes, replacing it with something else. Something hot and needy. When he realized he was staring at her mouth, he literally shook his head, swearing beneath his breath.
“Are you okay?” There was nothing at all innocent about her question. Not when she used that low, seductive tone and was looking at him like something she wanted to lap up.
Was he okay? Hell, he hadn’t been okay since the first time he looked into her large, brown eyes. He managed to find enough strength to ignore her comment, bending to the task at hand. His hands reached for the fabric covering her thigh, gently parting it where it was torn. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves and stop the shaking of his hands, he carefully inspected the wound. His fingers and knuckles grazed Emma’s soft skin and he clenched his teeth to ignore the rush of heat exploding through him. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d touched anything so satiny.
He gently probed the area, searching for any remaining glass. Emma caught her breath, stiffening, her hands falling upon his shoulders as though to push him away. Mike slowly raised his eyes to hers, losing himself in the sensual pools. His hands faltered. The glare of the bathroom light emphasized the situation between them, making it more intimate than it should be.
“It’s not deep, you won’t need stitches. But if it heals up with glass inside, it could become infected.”
“I know you’re not hurting me on purpose, Mike. Maybe I need a bullet to bite on or something. Do what you need to do.”
What he needed to do and what he wanted to do was the same thing. If Emma only knew what she was inviting, he thought. He was standing between her glorious thighs, touching her; his gaze dropped to her breasts and he noticed the peaks were crowned. They rose and fell softly with her every breath, teasing him, almost begging him for attention. If he made it out of there without making a complete fool of himself, it would be a miracle.
As if sensing the direction of his thoughts, Emma suddenly removed her hands from his shoulders. Lord, he thought, just let him finish up and get the hell out of there while he could still walk.
Chapter 8
Emma quietly watched Mike while his fingers gently examined the cut, growing warm when it dawned on her how intimate their positions were. She should never have let him talk her into this, but it was too late to do anything about it now. She tensed every time his knuckles brushed dangerously close to the apex between her legs. To make matters worse she knew she was responding to his nearness, female to male. Every time his gaze met hers, her belly fluttered in response. Every smile he bestowed upon her, the deep timbre of his voice running over her like thick molasses, the tingle of awareness, lord she prayed she wasn’t obvious. Before long she began to squirm against the marble, wishing it was over and she could run and get a robe.
She felt horribly exposed beneath the glare of the bright lights. For the first time she wished she’d told the developer not to add the second
mirrored wall. However, at the time she’d been opting for the illusion of a bigger bathroom. Now her gaze was on the mirror across from her, taking in Mike’s backside, the tautness of his buttocks when he moved and the way his wide shoulders filled out his shirt. Then she looked at the back of his head, noticing how thick and rich his hair was and wondering what it would feel like to run her fingers through it, if it was as silky as it looked. It was a little on the long side, brushing against the collar of the black shirt.
She couldn’t take the silence any longer or the brush of his fingers against her ultra sensitive skin, producing responses in her body that would soon become evident. “Will I live, doctor?”
He didn’t even glance up. “Yep.”
Emma could only guess Mike was satisfied there was no glass in it when he began to douse the wound with peroxide. She stiffened, sucking in her breath, then watched in shock as he leaned in and began to blow to ease the sting. Oh my God, did he know what he was doing? He was putting out one small flame but replacing it with a rapidly growing inferno. The heat of his breath licked at her skin, teasing the fine hairs there and making her tingle.
“Better?”
Emma nodded, too breathless to say anything, barely able to meet his eyes when he raised his head. She watched as he took some cotton from the kit and gently dabbed at the scratch to clean off the blood, suddenly reminded of the many times throughout the years she’d placed Amanda on the bathroom vanity or kitchen counter top to tend to a scrape or cut.
“Remember when kisses made everything all better?” Not again! Mike was going to think she wanted him to kiss her. His head shot up and Emma blushed the moment the words were out. What on earth was she saying? “I, what I mean is…”
“I remember.” He breathed deeply, a strange light coming to life in his eyes, his expression turning darker. “Do you think it still works after we’re all grown up?”
His words sent a scorching fire racing through her and for a moment she was speechless. He couldn’t be serious. The amusement in his eyes told her he wasn’t, but Emma saw something else in Mike’s eyes too. A deeper, stronger emotion that tempted her to find out the answer to his question.
Her eyes were glued to his and she tried to ignore the erratic jump in her pulse. “Maybe, kisses are good for a lot of things.”
“Kisses can lead to a lot of things, too,” he returned.
Well, it couldn’t get any clearer than that. A shiver washed over Emma’s body, his words bringing to mind the picture of them naked and entangled in sheets, kissing. And a whole lot more. Her lips parted to take in air, as breathing suddenly became difficult. She prayed that, among other things, Mike wasn’t also a mind reader. Her tongue came out to wet her bottom lip, the innocent action drawing his gaze there. In the next heart stopping moment he slowly leaned closer and she gasped, realizing if she weren’t sitting so far back on the vanity top, the bottom half of their bodies would be touching.
That thought brought an instant reaction from her heightened senses, leaving her panties damp. A tiny whimper escaped her. When was the last time she’d felt such overwhelming desire? It frightened her, yet she didn’t draw away when Mike did what she’d been yearning for. He took her gently by the hips, pulling her forward into the intimate cradle of his.
Oh my!
A current of intense heat traveled through his body to hers and she began to tremble violently with response.
“Mike.” The whispered puff came out before she could rein it in, sounding amplified in the small room. It didn’t seem to matter to him that he wanted her to think he was married. Her impassioned tone seemed to be all the fuel needed to get him past that little lie.
He leaned even closer against her, until there was no doubt he was fully aroused. Emma couldn’t look away from the fire leaping in his eyes or the raw stamp of arousal on his face. His hunger matched her own. As he slowly lowered his head, there was no question that he intended to kiss her. There was no doubt in her mind that she wanted his mouth on hers more than anything else in the world, convincing herself there was nothing wrong with one little kiss. It had been twelve years since Emma had kissed another man and she was curious, that was all.
Apparently Mike was just as curious. Only her mouth wasn’t his destination. His hands, which were resting on the curve of her hips, moved to the outside of her arms, his fingertips tickling her as they slowly traveled along her sensitive skin, leaving her covered with goose bumps. Next, they smoothed over Emma’s shoulders and collarbone before pausing at her neck. His fingers briefly sliced through her hair before tilting her head to give him better access to her throat.
Emma held her breath with anticipation as he slowly lowered his head, placing his lips along the arch of her throat and nibbling her flesh to the hidden spot behind her ear, down her collarbone and back to the curve of her jaw. She was quite certain that her heart stopped beating. After all, she’d stopped breathing eons ago. Her hands went to his lean hips with the intention of pushing him away but she clutched him closer instead, and just for a moment let herself enjoy the hunger of his body.
Mike’s open mouth moved over her throat, pausing to gently suckle a sensitive spot that produced a low moan from Emma. His groan was followed by a shudder as his finally moved toward Emma’s lips for the kiss she craved. Her lips parted in anticipation, her breath catching with desire. Then the phone began to ring from the outer room, startling them both. And like guilty teenagers they pulled away from each other.
They were both panting for air and Emma looked everywhere but at Mike. He’d stepped back, but she was intensely aware of his presence. The phone continued to ring, and at this time of night she knew it could only be one person calling. Amanda probably just wanting to make sure she’d made it home okay. She knew her sister wouldn’t hang up until she answered, but Emma couldn’t move to save her life.
“I’ll get that,” Mike said, breaking the silence, turning at the same time.
Thank God, Emma thought, jumping off the vanity top, not surprised to find her legs would barely support her. Then it dawned on her that letting him answer her phone wasn’t a very good idea. She found the strength to hurry after him, fully intending to get there before he picked it up.
“No! I’d better get that,” she nearly shouted, startling him into stopping in his tracks as she rushed around him. Reaching for the phone, she turned and shot him a brief smile hoping he’d accept it as an apology for her rudeness. “Hello?”
“Mom? What’s wrong? You’re breathing heavy.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Nothing’s wrong. I didn’t think I’d make it to the phone before you hung up. I was in the, ah, bathroom.” She averted her eyes from Mike, who was still standing there watching her.
“Oh, well I was just calling to make sure you got home okay.”
“I’m surprised you have the courage to bring that up, after abandoning me at the party. You’ve never gone off and left me like that before.”
“I, well I…”
A long pause followed and Emma knew Amanda couldn’t find the words to vindicate her actions. “Never mind, I think I know why.” She watched Mike make a leisurely walk around her living room, picking up the occasional photo to study it. “But your little scheme backfired, you know, leaving me with a married man to bring me home.” Mike’s head swung her way. “Mike was nice enough to…”
“Mike brought you home?” Emma could hear the excitement in Amanda’s voice before she had a chance to disguise it. “But, I told you he isn’t married…”
“Can we discuss this in the morning? It’s late and I was on my way to bed.” Emma gently replaced the receiver after they said goodnight, watching quietly as Mike continued to move about the room. He paused, studying one photo in particular before turning his attention back to her.
The steamy situation that had taken place between them was over, both having had enough time in the last few minutes to regain control and come to their senses. The eyes narrowing on Emma now
were those of a detective, hard and speculative. “Amanda’s not yours,” he said with quiet emphasis, making his way to her with a photo in his hand.
Emma’s glance dropped to the picture. It was an old one, taken when she was only thirteen. She remembered the day clearly. The picture had been taken at a family reunion and she was standing between her mother and father. In her mother’s arms, bundled up in a hand crocheted baby blanket of pink was a newborn baby, just the tiniest bit of blonde tuft revealed over the edge of the blanket.
She smiled like always when she looked at that particular picture. It was the last snap shot of them together, taken barely a week before her parents perished in a horrible car accident. Her baby sister, Amanda, had been at home with her that evening. Emma had volunteered to baby sit while her parents had gone out to celebrate their seventeenth wedding anniversary.
Sensing Mike’s thoughts might be going in the wrong direction, she quickly assured him. “You can relax, detective, it’s not what you think. I didn’t kidnap Amanda; she’s my sister. I was thirteen in that picture.”
“I’d already guessed something like that. But you raised her as your daughter; does she know the truth?”
Emma nodded. “She knows. We lived with an aunt for awhile after the death of our parents. When I married Richard, she came to live with us. I told her the truth when she was old enough to understand, but by that point she’d been calling me Mom for so long she couldn’t seem to break the habit.”
“So, you and your husband never had kids?”
“No.” But it hadn’t been for lack of trying, Emma thought. She’d wanted a baby so badly at one time that it had nearly destroyed their marriage. All the tests had turned up nothing but a low sperm count and then the countless procedures afterwards had ended in failure. After awhile she’d given up.
“Well, you’re a lady full of surprises, aren’t you?” Mike handed her the photo. “And as much as I’d like to stay and discover a few more of them…” His gaze suddenly narrowed on her but it would be morning before she understood what the look in his eyes meant. “I’m late for a meeting.”