PASSIONATE ENCOUNTERS (7 page)

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.
“Don’t you dare 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 money’s 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 is 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. It made her lazy and relaxed. Not totally unpleasant. She set
her cup down and reached for an orange cookie. Hopefully 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 told him she didn’t know it was laced with vodka.

Someone brushed against him and he glanced down at
Cleopatra. He knew 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 did she figure out who I am?

“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.”

His gaze shot 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 narrowed 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, and headed 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, and swung
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 were 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 tried 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. Surely he wasn’t going to kiss her.

“Are you here alone?” His eyebrows danced 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, and interrupted 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 didn’t protest when he drew her more firmly against
him. Almost protectively she couldn’t help notice, and a little thrill shot
down her spine. Now that Emma knew he wasn’t married she allowed herself to
enjoy being in his arms.

Mike’s lips twitched with obvious humor. “We’ve run into
each other a time or two.” He slowed 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 waited 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.
Is 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 cut her off 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, and released a resigned
sigh. “Sorry, I don’t know what it is, but when I’m around you…”

“I rub you the wrong way?” She smiled.

“Something like that,” he mumbled, trying to return her
smile but failing miserably.

For the second time that night Mike was becoming aroused,
and clenched 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 the warm, curvaceous
woman in his arms.

For starters he raised his hands to her waist, after
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, and
threatened 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 decided he’d better
stick as close to the truth as he could. Besides, 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 appeared to be
looking around the crowd 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
¼
He narrowed 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. A smile softened her
mouth, making it appear as velvety and dewy as a rose petal.

He would have been married for sixteen years but answered
honestly. “Ten years. He quickly changed the subject. “I think it’s time I take
you home.” It was almost midnight and the party appeared to be winding down.

“That’s not necessary.” Her foot came 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 tugged at 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.”

“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. Emma
had beautiful, rounded breasts.

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.
Am
I hoping something will happen between us?
His cock was certainly hoping
so.

“If I let you leave here and something happens…” He
purposely let his sentence trail off.

Emma pinned her gaze on him, one well-shaped brow arching
high. “You’re forgetting one thing, Officer; I can still call for a cab.”

Mike shrugged. “Good luck getting one any time soon. It’s
almost midnight and with all the Halloween parties going on tonight they’re
probably all pretty busy taking calls from other dizzy harem dancers.” He paused
for a moment. “And it’s Detective,” he corrected.