PASSIONATE ENCOUNTERS (20 page)

“Then why are you here, Detective? And how can you say we’re
not involved after…after all the times we’ve made love? Are you telling me that
you don’t feel anything when you’re fucking me?”

She had him, the little witch! Mike stepped away from her,
the scowl on his face directed at himself because he hadn’t seen it coming.
Emma had very neatly trapped him into a situation of his own making. He knew
why he was there. And he was honest enough to admit to himself, at least, that
it wasn’t just for her dynamite body.

He knew better than to keep putting temptation in his path,
especially one as appealing as Emma. Yet something kept him from walking away.
She was different from all the rest. She hadn’t disappeared once she found out
about Melissa.

At that moment Mike wanted her more than he thought humanly
possible. In spite of that he resisted the impulse to grab her and show her how
much. How could he argue with her when she’d hit the nail square on the head?

He clenched his jaw when it dawned on him how intuitive she
was, and practically jumped back when her finger began to wiggle beneath the
belt of the robe. His involuntary action caused a ripple of laughter from her.

“Why, Detective, you’re not afraid of me, are you?” she
teased in a beguiling manner that warmed his heart.

Hell yes, I’m afraid of what you make me feel.

Her eyes were overflowing with amusement, that soft mouth of
hers a tempting invitation Mike knew he didn’t have the strength to resist. He
took a deep breath, more to steady his nerves, then held his ground when she
began to lean in closer.

“Do you know what I think?”

She looked dangerous. Mike held his breath.

“I think you’re lying to yourself if you don’t think we’re
involved. And I think you’re scared to admit it. ”

“Emma,” he cautioned. But damn her, she kept right on coming
and Mike had no alternative but to back up, which only produced more laughter,
the throaty sound of her amusement running over him like warm honey on a hot
bun. Secondly, the look on her face unnerved him. He wondered what she was up
to.

A moment ago he’d been the one doing the pursuing; he’d been
the one in control. He didn’t know if he liked the predatory gleam of determination
in her eyes. His heart slammed against his ribs, forcing the blood through his
veins like a river running out of control.

“You are afraid of me!” Emma breathed in a little whisper of
amazement, backing him up against the refrigerator. “Are you terrified because
little old me is right?”

She halted just inches away, but Mike could feel her breath
on his bare chest. He could smell her arousal. The alluring scent of spicy heat
teasing him, breaking down his senses until it made him want to say the hell
with it and take what she was offering.

“Maybe I’m afraid of myself,” he offered, letting Emma
entrap him by placing her hands against the refrigerator on either side of him.
“You don’t know what you’re doing. I’m barely holding on by a thread.”

There was that sexy laugh of hers again, raking over him
like a thousand hands, all of them softly arousing, touching him everywhere at
once. Her eyes were soft and slightly glazed, the lids half-lowered. She wet
her lips nearly causing him heart failure.

“Hmm, what do I have to do to break that thread?”

Her warm breath on his skin, then her moist lips did the
trick. Mike groaned with weakness, his body shuddering when she ran her open
mouth over him.

“Admit it, Detective. Admit that you feel just a little
something for me.”

He let her have control for a minute, content to run with
the feelings she evoked. Enjoying the rush of need that had never been fully extinguished.
As her warm mouth moved lower he came to his senses. He dropped his hands to
her shoulders and forced her up.

“I think you’ve effectively broken that thread. I’m torn
between having my way with you in front of the fire or walking away while I still
can.” He sucked in air to fill his empty lungs.

“I would never let you walk away,” she teased, fingering the
material covering his shoulders. “Especially wearing my favorite satin robe.”

A reluctant grin twitched on his lips. “And how would you
stop me?”

“Oh, there’s ways, Detective. Unfortunately I don’t have
enough bad girl experience to pull off anything, ah, mind-blowing.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself, sweetheart. What you were
doing just a moment ago nearly drove me to my knees.” His heart was still
beating like a jackhammer pounding pavement. “Without half-trying you turn this
big, strong man into a mountain of jelly.”

Emma’s pleased look went straight to Mike’s heart. She
opened her mouth to say something but the sound of a key being inserted into
the front door lock held her temporarily speechless. Mike tensed for a second
until he realized if someone were breaking in they’d hardly be using a key.

Emma whipped her head around to glance at the antique clock
on the mantle above the fireplace. “Four thirty, how can that be? The clock in
my bedroom said two thirty.”

Mike’s gaze followed hers as she began looking around the
kitchen, her gaze landing on the various appliances. The blinking lights
indicated the power had apparently gone out at some time during the onset of
the storm, and before they’d returned. Something they hadn’t noticed before
now.

Realization of what happened crossed their minds at the same
time and their gazes collided. Whoever was at the door had finally unlocked it
and was turning the knob.

“It’s Amanda and Troy,” Emma explained in a panicked
whisper, stepping away from him. “They’re here for a movie and dinner.” She
quickly moved to the counter and opened the picnic basket, her movements
slightly capricious as she began to unpack it.

“Good idea,” he said in reference to her unpacking the
basket. “And maybe it’s a good time to check the status of my clothes.”

* * *
*

“Best peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I’ve had in a long
time,” Troy quipped after devouring a third one without any problem. His
expression resembled that of a satisfied ten-year-old as he rubbed his belly,
giving Amanda a playful wink. “Add peanut butter to our shopping list,
sweetie.”

“For sure.” She rolled her eyes as if saying over her dead
body.

They’d decided to spread a blanket in front of the fire and
the four of them were sitting cross-legged, facing one another while eating off
paper plates. Emma could still recall the startled, yet pleased look on her
sister’s face when she’d opened the door to see Mike quickly disappearing into
the laundry room. She hadn’t even tried to hide the look of triumph she tossed
Troy as he stepped in behind her.

“I’m glad you weren’t disappointed that it wasn’t the
lasagna I’d promised.” Emma smiled, munching on a pickle. “It would have been a
shame to waste a good picnic lunch.”

Her gaze went to Mike, who was sitting across from her, and
watching her quietly. He’d barely said two words in the hour since Troy and
Amanda had let themselves in.

“What about you, Mike? Is peanut butter your style?” she
teased.

“It does bring back memories.” He grinned crookedly. “But I
can’t recall ever drinking a beer with one. Mom usually served it with milk.”

The heat of the fire was nothing compared to the warmth Emma
felt inside when Mike’s gaze moved over her lazily. “It was beer or orange
juice.”

Her interest dropped to his damp shirt and even damper
jeans. She was surprised when he’d emerged from the laundry room fully dressed
when it was apparent his clothes were still wet. She guessed the fear of being
seen in her robe far outweighed any discomfort or teasing he’d suffer in the
long run.

“What’s on the agenda for the rest of the evening?” Amanda
asked, settling back against Troy, who wrapped his arms around her midriff
naturally. “Unless you and Mike planned on going night fishing?”

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than the windows vibrated
with another crash of thunder. The storm hadn’t let up one bit since their mad
dash from the boat, and the power had flickered off and on more than once. “I
think we can safely rule that out.” Emma began gathering up the empty paper
plates.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to eat and run.” All eyes
turned to Mike but Emma was the one he made direct eye contact with. It was
clear he didn’t want to leave. “It will be dark soon, and I don’t like leaving
Melissa home alone,” he explained.

Revealing he was a concerned and caring father was a quality
that only endeared Mike to Emma even more. There was a lot about him that
appealed to her. Yet right now she was trying not to show her disappointment,
covering it with a carelessly tossed remark. “Oh, for a minute there I was
afraid it was something I did.”

He made a negative gesture with a shake of his head. “Good
food, good beer, good music.” He hesitated for a moment, staring at Emma until
she was sure everyone in the room saw the heat creeping up her neck. “And very
good company,” he finished in a low voice.

She knew she was blushing like a silly schoolgirl but didn’t
care. “I aim to please,” she tossed back.

“Well, while you two are saying goodbye, we’ll go pick out a
movie to watch,” Amanda cut in, motioning for Troy to follow her when she got
to her feet. However, Troy was so focused on the exchange between Emma and Mike
that she had to shout his name to get his attention. “Troy!”

“What?” he inquired with confusion. Apparently the look on
Amanda’s face got through to him and he rushed to his feet, offering Emma and
Mike a sheepish look as he left the room with her.

Emma’s soft chuckle filled the room. She turned back to
Mike, who as far as she could tell hadn’t taken his eyes off her. “The day
didn’t exactly turn out as we planned.” She blushed, realizing how that could
be interpreted. “What I mean is, the rain—”

“I know what you mean,” he interrupted. “And I’m not
complaining about the rain.”

His eyes crinkled with humor, warming Emma even more.
Goodness at this rate she would have to put out the fire in the hearth!

“There’s a policeman’s dance Thursday night. Something the
mayor puts on every year as appreciation for the rest of us making him look
good. Got anything in your closet that will go with a purple eye?”

Her gentle laugh rippled through the air, her gaze settling
on the eye in question. The discoloration was almost gone now, appearing more
like a dark shadow from lack of sleep. She decided not to question the
invitation or his taking it for granted that she would go with him. Emma wanted
to be with Mike, sensing their relationship had progressed beyond those polite
little necessities. If she could only make him admit it.

“I think I can come up with something suitable.”

“Good. I’ll pick you up at seven.” He turned to leave.

Her eyes rounded with mild disbelief. “Aren’t you going to
kiss me goodnight?”

She watched him stiffen, his hand on the doorknob. Her soft
words lingered in the air between them. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” His
voice was uncompromising yet oddly gentle.

“Why?” Her silky voice held a challenge. “Not even a little
peck on the cheek?” she teased, her eyes moving over the width of his shoulders,
looking for a sign that he was going to relent.

The only part of Mike that moved was his head when he turned
to look at Emma over his shoulder. “I don’t believe in little pecks unless
you’re a relative. The next time I kiss you, lady, it won’t be goodnight.”

His words fueled Emma’s curiosity and desire, yet there was
nothing she could do about it now. Not with Amanda and Troy waiting for her in
the living room. Deciding it wouldn’t be fair to either of them by pursuing his
comment she remained quiet, watching him open the door and disappear into the
downpour.

With a wistful sigh she watched as he sprinted to his truck.
Once inside he glanced up and for a moment their gazes met and held. Her heart
constricted and the truth hit Emma at that precise instant.

She was head over heels in love with Mike Denton.

Chapter 18

As it turned out Emma didn’t have anything in her closet
suitable to wear to the dance, much less anything that came close to matching
the color surrounding Mike’s eye. However a quick trip to a little boutique
specializing in attire for after hours, with Amanda in tow, quickly took care
of that.

Their daylong outing into town had turned into a shopping
spree since Amanda had persuaded her into practically updating her complete
wardrobe. Emma hadn’t minded letting her sister pick out most of her clothes,
yet when it came to selecting something for her special date with Mike, she put
a halt to some of her outlandish choices.

She’d tried on several dresses in styles ranging from
formal-down-to-her-ankles black, to something short and daring in pink. In the
end, she opted for simple elegance in the way of a short, sleeveless black
dress with a matching beaded jacket. The cut of the dress, with its scooped
neckline and split from hem to mid thigh was designed to keep a man interested,
though Emma didn’t think Mike needed any encouragement in that area.

Intuition told her the outcome of their evening would be a
significant turning point in their relationship.

When the night of the dance finally arrived, she kept her
makeup at a minimum, taking special care in dabbing a touch of her favorite perfume
behind each ear and exposed cleavage. She smiled as a wicked thought prompted
her to place some behind the curve of her knees as well.

The full-length mirror provided her with a thorough view of
what Mike was going to see when she opened the front door. The black dress
stopped way above her knees, fitting her form like a soft glove and showing her
shape to an advantage.