Red Crystal Romance: #1 Emma

by Diroll-Nichols, Karen

  “Then why would I want to be alone then? I want to be coddled and pampered, not abandoned,” she told him with a cheeky grin that made him laugh.

  “Of course you do, my love, and I shall see to it myself,” he promised, dropping a kiss on her nose and turning to leave. “Breakfast in a few minutes, Emma. Then I have work in my shop to accomplish. Perhaps a nice long walk on the beach tonight, would you like that?”

  “Perfect. And I promise not to leave the house without informing anyone although, you do realize it isn’t me they’re after, Lucas,” Emma dropped the light weight dress over her head and shimmied, making it fall into place with her hands poking through the short sleeves.

  “And what, lady wife, do you believe they’re after?” He loved the spark of fire that flared in her eyes when he used that term for her.

  “Well, obviously the money,” she shrugged and went to the bottom of her armoire to pull out a pair of simple, flat slippers. “I’ve been through my things, Lucas. I’m not of value to them, to either of them. I have the pouch of gold coins but that surely isn’t enough to break into a house over.”

  “I have Harris investigating a few things, Emma. I’ll be down in a shortly and we shall discuss it further,” he promised, lightly kissed her brow and went down the hall to his room.

  Emma wandered down the stairs carrying her shoes. She dropped them to the floor in the dining hall and continued onto the kitchen, greeting the tall, robust woman with a little wave. She might have been intimidating if Emma hadn’t won her over with plans to build a raised herb garden in the back.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Neilson. Fresh coffee for Lucas?” Emma lifted the plates covered with warmers and carried them into the dining hall. She heard the clatter and watched the older woman place the large pot of coffee on the trivet with a nod. “Thank you.”

  Not much on talking, Emma mused and lifted the cover from her plate before reaching for the toast and marmalade. Her appetite was definitely improved, she thought with a hungry bite.

  She shivered when the warm fingers stroked over her throat, his lips brushing her temple before he continued on to take his seat.

  “Do you have a schedule of things for the workmen to do?” Emma asked with an innocent smile at the interested look he gave her.

  “I detect a motive,” Lucas peered at her through his spectacles and couldn’t stop his lips from twitching.

  “You’ve a naturally suspicious nature,” she said loftily, poking at the fruit she’d placed on her plate.

  “Speak to me, lady-wife,” he teased, taking in a long swallow of the hot coffee and sighing.

  “Well, two things actually,” Emma began logically. This was her place, she’d decided. With Lucas, regardless of how or why it happened. And if it were a dream, she never wanted to wake. She wasn’t delusional. She didn’t believe it would all be peace and tranquility. She knew too much about humans, too much about history for that to ever settle in her mind. But she wanted to be with him. For however long she had.

  “Emma? Are you well? You look…” Lucas gently touched the hand resting on the tabletop.

  “Oh…don’t mind me…drifting mind,” she said with a smile, her hand turned and fingers entwined with his.

  “Promise me, sweet. No lies between us,” Lucas had seen her thoughts drifting now and then, a sadness in her eyes that brought an ache to him.

  “No lies, Lucas,” she said firmly. “Mrs. Neilson and I would like to plant a large herb garden next season. And I would like it to be a raised bed, to keep things out of it and make it easier for her to reach,” she had lowered her voice. “Bending and all, you know. So I was wanting some boards and nails or bolts or something to make a nice large square and find some really rich, good soil for it so we can begin composting and preparing it for spring.”

  “Easily done,” Lucas nodded, enjoying the light in her voice. “And the second thing.”

  “We need a room…perhaps attached to the kitchen and my utility room. Brick, I think, would be best. With shelves…about twelve inches wide lining the walls and a fire pit in the center, also of brick, so we can burn wood and keep the inside dry for the purpose of drying our herbs,” she bit the corner of her lip, watching her idea gel in his eyes.

  “How large?”

  “Perhaps ten foot square? Oh…feet…I don’t know the correct measurements…”

  “I know them, not to worry,” Lucas tilted his head as if seeing the area with what she wanted created. “Mrs. Neilson does love her gardening. What depth?”

  Emma frowned a little. “Eighteen inches…perhaps two feet.”

  “And I’m gathering you’d like this part soon,” Lucas laughed at the flush that struck her cheeks.

  “Well, it is coming on fall and I can collect leaves to begin the process of composting and inviting the worms to participate in our project…”

  “I find it difficult to see you playing with worms.”

  “We actually have an agreement,” she said with a little shrug. “They stay hidden and I provide them with good food. It really works out well for us. Wood is the easiest of materials to use, I think.”

  “But brick or stone would be more durable and lasting,” Lucas nodded to himself. “I believe we can have this portion of your project up and running in a month. I’ve just the men for the job and it’ll be a good change for them.”

  “Thank you. You’re a very indulgent husband.” Emma left her chair and moved to stand behind him, her lips moving next to his ear. “I can be a very grateful wench of a wife, I promise you.” She told him with a kiss and lick around his ear.

  Lucas was prepared to pull her into his lap when the deep sound of a throat clearing trapped their attention. “Harris.”

  “Visitors, milord,” Harris said politely, waiting by the arched doorway. Lucas met his gaze with the slightest of nods.

  Lucas didn’t have to ask their identities. He caught Emma’s hand in his and stood up, his other palm going beneath her chin. His thumb caressed the full lower lip before kissing her softly.

  “Stay here, Emma.” He didn’t know where the hard edge had come from in his voice, but he knew it belonged there at the moment. This was the tone he’d learned existed in him during his travels. He saw the defiance enter her eyes. “Show them into the library, Harris and remain on the door, watching them.”

  “Yes, sir,” he said curtly and disappeared.

  “Lucas, please.”

  “Emma, it’s my duty to protect you.”

  “With Harris on the door and Brock outside…how can I possibly be in danger? What could they do?” She pleaded. “I swear to you. I’ll sit at my desk like a quiet little mouse.”

  “And in what dream world would I be gullible enough to believe that even remotely possible?”

  “I’ll try,” she amended with a little wince.

  Lucas was still questioning his decision as they left the dining hall. He glanced down, smiling at the bare toes the peeked from beneath her gown as she walked. His decision. The words repeated itself inside his mind, his gaze following the gentle sway of her hips. Jaunty, he thought, feeling the power surge inside him for the need, the drive to protect her.

  Two older men immediately stood from the chairs they had been seated in when Emma entered the room. She looked from one to the other. It was very easy to recognize which was Lucas’ father. They were of the same height and broad shoulders. He wore his hair much shorter and hints of silver strayed through the dark blond strands. He had a moustache and neatly trimmed beard that he stroked now and then, his other hand holding a cane and hat.

  “Emma...” James Carstairs took a step forward that was halted when she stepped to the side, her head shaking. He frowned and glared at Lucas. “You’ve corrupted her. And look at her hair!”

  Lucas raised a brow, his gaze following Emma as she continued to his desk. She leaned against it and watched, silent for now, as she promised.

  “I haven’t done a thing to your daughter, sir. I don�
�t know the type of relationship you had with her before the accident, but she has no memory of you and what she’s learned has not endeared her to you.”

  Lucas opened his mouth, about to say something more when Emma hitched herself onto the corner of his desk, her ankles crossed and bare feet swinging slightly. Then he corrected himself and simply smiled at his pixie.

  Decorum be damned, he wanted her happy and smiling and adorable. Just as she was. Not what society demanded of her.

  “Why are you here?” Emma asked with a curious tilt to her head. “I like my hair. The key word being, of course, MINE.”

  “We’re merely checking on your welfare,” Alister St. Christopher assured her politely.

  “Uh-huh…, no, really…why are you here? You could be honest and we could end this and Lucas and I can go back to being alone and happy.” Emma studied them both critically. “It isn’t me. Neither of you cares about me…and I don’t believe you care much about Lucas, either. So…if not me, then what are you after?”

  “I left something in your trunk and I would like to retrieve it,” James said finally.

  “I emptied my trunks. My books and note books are mostly over there. I found a nice pouch of coins,” she kept staring at them. “But that isn’t what you’re after. And I have enough dresses to last me a lifetime. I’m not sure…” a frown creased the full bow of her lips. “I had a grandmother. That’s where the clothing came from.”

  “The woman was constantly dragging you to the seamstress,” James mumbled testily. “I am not after your coins. I left some…certificates…in your trunk. I’d like them returned.”

  Emma looked at Lucas. “I gave them to Lucas,” she shrugged. “My name is on the envelope. Not yours.”

  “They were given to you by your grandparents, Emma,” Lucas strode across the library and took the seat behind his desk, his hands resting casually over his abdomen. “I read the letters inside. One from a solicitor and the other from your grandmother. Emma hasn’t read the letters. She is not interested in them.”

  “Why do you want them? Your business is doing well,” Emma bit into her lip in thought. She put her hands behind her and leaned back in thought. “You really don’t care enough about Lucas to bother with finding him a bride. You care about money and you mishandle it.”

  “Of all the impertinent…”

  “She’s correct,” Lucas interrupted flatly. “And I would guard your tongue.”

  “I don’t remember you,” she continued, staring at the man designated as her father. “But I suppose it’s possible you wanted to unload me…”

  “I couldn’t find anyone in the city willing to take you,” he spit out heartlessly. “Mouthy, old and plain…”

  Emma gulped a breath and tasted blood when she bit her lip.

  “Have a care, or father-in-law or not, I will call you out,” Lucas informed him coldly.

  “So I sold you to him for his son,” James Carstairs continued, sneering at Lucas. “He wanted money and I wanted her out of my hair. Now that her grandparents were gone, those stocks should have been mine. I put up with her through her whole life.”

  “No one wanted me,” Emma knew those words too well from too long a life. “Not even my own father.”

  “Emma…” Lucas heard the pain in her voice.

  “Do you know Daniel? Is that why he climbed into my bedroom window? To find your precious stocks for you?” Emma demanded.

  “I don’t know any Daniel,” he returned flatly. “I should have been paid for not throwing her in an orphanage when her mother up and died on me. But they kept those stocks over her head. Held all that money they had…made me think it would be mine. But no, they left them to the care of her future husband.”

  “You don’t know Daniel,” Emma repeated softly to herself. She looked at Alister St. Christopher and then at her father. “You…sold me to him…to get the stocks and get rid of me. You accepted a dowry, not because you cared whether or not Lucas had a wife, but because you wanted money. This is all about the inheritance left me by my grandparents. And you believed you could simply take them from my trunk…”

  “They weren’t any good to him if you were alive, Emma. He can’t touch them,” Lucas said quietly. “They belong to your husband.”

  “The carriage accident,” she said, the faintest of hitches in her voice. “I wasn’t meant to live.”

  “Now you’re exaggerating,” James Carstairs said quickly.

  “I have the letter from the solicitor,” Lucas told him flatly. “Lies will not change anything. She can’t give them to you because they’re part of her children’s future. Once she married, they became mine.”

  “Married?” Alister’s gaze swung to their faces and then their hands.

  “You married him?” James demanded in ragged anger.

  “Married,” Emma held up her hand. “He married plain, old, mouthy me. So I suppose you can stop visiting now and return to San Francisco. And you…” she smiled at Alister. “I suppose you could have him pay you out of his own funds, instead of my grandparents. I’m not sure what I’m worth, though.”

  “You are priceless, my sweet,” Lucas moved to her side, his lips gently caressing her brow. “Never doubt that.”

  “I don’t have the kind of money he wanted for this arrangement,” James swore and paced the room angrily. “You’ve ruined everything.”

  “Harris, escort the…gentlemen…from the house, please,” Lucas ground his teeth and covered the two palms she had resting on her lap with his. “They are not welcome here.”

  “Yes, sir.” Harris gestured to the door, two angry men storming out of the library before the door closed behind them.

  Lucas placed both hands on her face, his thumbs beneath her chin and tipping it up. He’d braced himself but it hadn’t been quite enough for the sight of tears edging the lashes she squeezed closed.

  “Emma…”

  “It might be best if I go upstairs for a bit. I think I’m going to cry,” she whispered and made an effort that was ignored to push him away. Instead, she was gathered against him, a soft linen handkerchief pressed into her hand before he carried her to the large chair near the balcony door.

  Lucas sat back in the chair, his arms around her. He cushioned her head against his shoulder and let her have her cry. Fingers stroked gently over her head as she sniffled, her breathing slowly leveling off.

  “I’m probably all puffy now,” Emma said with a weary sigh.

  “But better?”

  “No…maybe…mostly just puffy,” she sniffled again, tucking the handkerchief into the pocket of her dress and sitting up slowly. “Thank you.”

  “The man’s a cretin, Emma,” Lucas said quietly, relieved at the slight twitch to her lips.

  “A genetic donor,” she said in agreement. She sniffled one last time and inhaled raggedly. “I shouldn’t have let it get to me. It’s so hard to get words out of your head.”

  “You are beautiful,” Lucas turned her face to him, peering at her through his lenses and waiting for their gaze to lock. “Never doubt that what I see is the most amazing woman I’ve ever known in my arms,” he slid his palm along her jaw and onto her cheek.

  Her lashes closed, creating that dusty effect around her eyes and she rubbed her cheek against his palm like his own sweet little kitten. His fingers slid beneath her chin, tipped it up for his mouth to slant over hers, gently, soothingly.

  “And I adore your mouth, even as I battle the gentleman inside me,” Lucas told her, his cock giving a sharp lurch when her eyes opened and she smiled at him.

  “I’ve not asked you to be a gentleman in all aspects of our life, Lucas,” she taunted saucily, her hands on his arms. She eased herself away, sitting on his thighs for only a moment before sliding to the floor. She parted his thighs and knelt there, gazing up at him.

  “I seem to recall a promise of a wicked wench…”

  Emma smiled and ran her palm over the front of his slacks, the hard length of his cock bene
ath the fabric making her twitch and dampen between her thighs. For her. All he wanted was her, she thought, opening the stiff leather belt and slowly undoing the buttons down the front.

  “On your feet, Emma,” Lucas instructed quietly, the quizzical look on her face almost making him smile. “I won’t ask again, Emma. And you’re chalking up a punishment that is very probably long overdue.”

  Emma swallowed, nodded and was immediately on her feet, her gaze never leaving his.

  “To the side of the chair, Emma,” he gestured, stretching out his arm and making certain his palm would reach easily, comfortably. “Now you may continue. Release me and take me in your mouth…please me, sweet…”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Emma stared at his crotch. It had begun as her idea but Lucas had quickly made it a pleasure that had the lips of her pussy swelling and hot, steaming crème flooding between them. She bent forward, over the arm of the chair and worked the thick, stiff leather out of her way and went back to negotiating the buttons. They popped readily to get out of the way of the hard, length of his cock.

  She pushed the sides of the rough fabric to the sides, pausing when he brought his hand forward. He circled his cock, stroking up and down the length of the thick shaft, rubbing his thumb over the swollen head. When he squeezed the base, veins bulged. He removed his hand when she wrapped her smaller hand around him, caressing, stroking with the same heaviness that he had shown her.

  “Part your legs, Emma,” Lucas ordered gruffly when she used her tongue to scrape around the ridge beneath the head of his cock. His hand was at the perfect height and pulled at her dress until it was pooled on her back. Her arse was bare and the sight forced a low groan from his throat. “No drawers…oh, sweet…and a few minutes and you’re already wet for me…” he ran his palm over one firm globe, down to the center and into the dampness.

  Emma groaned around the head of his cock, suckling and taking him slowly deeper when she felt his fingers stroking between her legs. Her hips twitched a little when he toyed with her clit, her tongue stroking hotly along his cock. She pulled her mouth free with a low moan, the muscles of her pussy squeezing when he thrust first one long finger inside her and then another.