The calamity Janes (15 page)

He looked as if he might argue, then nodded. “You’re probably right. Once you and I figure out where we’re headed, then I can spend more time with Caitlyn.”

Emma studied him with surprise. “You almost sound as if you’re looking forward to that.”

“Why wouldn’t I? She’s a great kid and she has excellent taste in men. She already likes me.” He planted a hard kiss on Emma’s lips. “I’ll be back at
nine on the dot, but I’ll wait outside in case she’s not in bed on time.”

“I can drive over or take a cab,” she offered as an alternative.

He seemed amused by her last grasp at control over the situation. He shook his head and brushed a curl back from her cheek. “I don’t think so. When I have a date, I pick the woman up.”

With one more kiss, he was gone.

Emma made it through Caitlyn’s bedtime ritual with a knot in her stomach the size of Wyoming. The edgy anticipation she had been feeling for the past few weeks around Ford was now a commanding, consuming presence. The story of Cinderella and the handsome prince took on a whole new meaning as she read it to Caitlyn.

“Mommy, I thought you were tired of that story. You said we read it too much,” Caitlyn murmured sleepily. “How come you picked it tonight?”

“Because I know you love it,” she said, leaning down to brush a kiss across her daughter’s forehead. “Sleep tight, angel. I love you.”

“Love you, Mommy.” Caitlyn sighed and snuggled under the covers.

Emma stood in the doorway staring at her for a moment, thinking about how lucky she was and how often she took her precious little girl for granted. That was one more thing she needed to work on as she tried to get some balance back into her life.

And speaking of balance, she thought with a renewed surge of energy, Ford was likely to be waiting outside for her by now. She was just about to run down the stairs when the doorbell rang. Surprised, she hurried to answer it before it woke Caitlyn. She opened it to
find a police officer and a sheepish-looking Ford on the doorstep. Mrs. Harrison arrived from the kitchen at the same time.

“What’s going on?” Emma asked.

“There was a strange man loitering in the driveway. I didn’t want to come upstairs and mention it in front of Caitlyn, so I called the police,” the housekeeper said, scowling at Ford. “Young man, you ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

Emma had to try very hard not to laugh. “I’m afraid there’s been a mistake,” she told the policeman. “Mr. Hamilton is a friend of mine.”

“You know him?” Mrs. Harrison asked, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Then why on earth was he lurking in the bushes?”

“I suggested he wait for me outside until I had put Caitlyn to bed. Mr. Hamilton is one of her favorite people. I was afraid seeing him might make her too excited to sleep.”

“Oh, dear, I’m so sorry,” Mrs. Harrison apologized.

“Not a problem,” Ford said. “It’s good to know you’re so protective of Emma and Caitlyn.”

“That’s right,” the policeman said. “Better to be safe than sorry. If everything’s okay here, I’ll be on my way.”

“Thank you, Officer,” Emma said.

“I’ll go on up to my room now,” the housekeeper said after casting one more apologetic look at Ford.

“Keep an ear open for Caitlyn, will you?” Emma requested. “Mr. Hamilton and I are going out for a while.”

“Of course,” the housekeeper said, giving Ford a more careful survey. “You two enjoy your evening.”

As soon as they were alone, Emma grinned at Ford. “Never a dull moment when you’re around me, huh?”

“Since you rode to my rescue, I have a feeling this will make a good story down the line. We can tell the grandkids all about the time Grandma almost had Grandpa arrested.”

Emma’s heart lurched at the teasing remark. “Let’s not mention the word
grandkids
just yet. I’m still grappling with our plans for tonight.”

“Want to cancel?”

And go through this panic all over again another night? Not a chance. “No way,” she said. “Just let me grab a few things.”

It took her less than ten minutes to gather what she needed. Ford eyed the small bag with surprise. “That’s it? You going to court naked in the morning?”

“I’ll be back here long before then. Is that a problem?”

He regarded her with disappointment. “You’re going to crawl out of a warm bed to come home in the middle of the night?”

“Yes.” Even though she was likely to leave the house before Caitlyn got up in the morning, it was a point of honor with her not to be out all night.

“Let me guess—because of Caitlyn,” he said.

Emma nodded.

He held out his hand and took the bag. “Then I guess we’d better make the most of the time we have.”

Emma released the breath she’d been holding.

“We’ll take my car,” Ford announced when Emma had written a note with the hotel phone number and left it on the refrigerator door for the housekeeper.

“Are you sure? How will I get back? You shouldn’t have to get out of a warm bed, just because I have to.”

“Yes, I should. We’ve already been over this. The decision is made. I’ll bring you back,” he promised.

When she was about to argue, he touched a finger to her lips. “It’s a date, Emma. That’s how it works. You got to set the rules for the interview. I get to set them for our first official date. Besides, I don’t want to have to wait an extra five seconds for you to get there, much less ten minutes while you dawdle along behind me talking yourself out of coming like you did earlier this evening getting here.”

“I did not dawdle coming home earlier.”

“Didn’t you?” he challenged.

“Okay, maybe a little.”

“There you go,” he said. “Was that so hard? You can be scared, darlin’. The honest truth is I’m a little uneasy about all of this myself.”

“You? Why?”

“You’re a formidable woman.” He grinned. “What if I’m not exciting enough for you?”

Emma laughed. “Oh, I don’t think we need to worry about that. I’m on the way to your hotel room, aren’t I? Trust me, it’s not something I’m likely to do on a whim.”

Ford’s expression sobered at once. He reached for her hand and held it as he drove. “Me, neither. I don’t know what any of this means, but I know it’s definitely not a whim.”

Emma had a feeling that discovering exactly what was going on between them was going to take a whole lot longer than one night in a hotel room, but maybe Ford was right. Maybe it was a good place to start.

The negligee never made it out of her bag. Nor did they so much as glance at the room service menu. In
fact, by the time they reached the room that Ford had reserved at a fancy downtown hotel, the only thing on Emma’s mind was discovering if the feelings he stirred in her meant anything at all.

It didn’t help that the first thing she saw when they entered the room was a king-size bed, topped with a luxurious comforter that had already been folded down for the evening. There were mints on the pillows. Though the room was spacious, the bed dominated it. She couldn’t have ignored it if she’d tried.

Unable to tear her gaze away, she wandered straight to it and sat gingerly on the edge, then bounced.

“Nice mattress.”

Ford grinned. “I’m glad you approve.” He sat down next to her, captured her chin in his hand and turned her head until he could kiss her.

Ironically, that kiss seemed to settle her nerves, but only for a fleeting second. Then all hell broke loose inside her as he deepened it, claiming her in a way no man ever had. Her senses were scrambling by the time he released her. She gazed around, feeling dazed, and was stunned to discover that she was still sitting on the edge of the bed, fully clothed. She felt as if that kiss alone had taken her straight to some sort of precipice and tossed her over.

“Hungry?” Ford asked.

Mutely she shook her head.

“Want to change?”

Again she shook her head. “This is what I want,” she said, reaching for him.

Ford accepted the challenge. He made love the way he did everything—slowly, intently, methodically. He studied Emma as if she were the most unique, precious female he’d ever encountered, his gaze on her heated,
his touches inflaming, his exploration of her body daring.

Another siege of gentle kisses gave way to all-consuming kisses that stole her breath. When her mouth felt tender and swollen, he seemed to know. He moved on to her neck, then brushed aside her blouse to reach the curve of her shoulder. The sensation of his lips against her skin was amazing. The liquid fire created as his tongue tasted her made her quake deep inside.

But that was all a warm-up for the attention he paid to her breasts. His gaze solemn and intent, he removed her blouse completely, then slowly reached around her to unclasp her bra. As if it were some sort of erotic ritual, he carefully slid the straps over her shoulders, then freed her breasts from the confines of the lace, all without touching her with anything except his eloquent, heated gaze.

Only then, when her heart was pounding in anticipation, did he actually touch her. With a single finger he stroked down each gentle slope until he reached the pebble-hard bud. Emma felt as if she’d been holding her breath forever by the time he took the sensitive peaks deep into his mouth. She moaned softly and arched toward the source of the incredible sensation. Ford took his time satisfying her, taunting her with a delicate flick of his tongue, then, finally, a more powerful suckling that shot fiery heat straight through her.

He studied her with a lazy, hooded gaze. Then, seemingly satisfied, he eased her skirt over her hips and tossed it aside until all she was wearing were her panties, a garter belt and hose. The heat in his eyes as he realized what she was wearing was enough to sear her.

He took his own sweet time acting on it. She was
restless and overheated by the time he began a whole new exploration with his hands. Light, gliding caresses became ever more deliberate and clever. His hands were amazingly wicked, the brush of his lips provocative, the stroke of his tongue even more so.

In short, the man was driving her mad. Her shuddering gasps apparently weren’t enough for him. Nor did he seem satisfied that her body was arching frantically toward his. Sighs of pleasure, desperate moans, nothing seemed to be enough for him. He wanted more from her, demanded it, coaxed her until she reached some new, impossible level of need.

Only then did he allow her to unbutton his shirt and shove it frantically aside so she could touch the hard planes of his chest. Only then did he permit the slide of his zipper, the release of his throbbing arousal.

She couldn’t wait for more. “Now,” she pleaded. “Ford, hurry. Inside me. I want…come with me, please.”

She must have communicated the urgency, because he kicked aside his pants and entered her with a hard thrust that made her gasp at the sheer wonder of it. Her fingers dug into his tight, hard bottom as she held him in place, wanting to exult for just a moment in the sensation of being filled so completely.

Then he began to move with a rhythm that teased and tormented, just as his touches had earlier. Slow, fast, then slow again, until she thought she would scream. When the magnificent release washed over her in wave after wave, she did scream, the sound muffled only because he captured it with another devastating kiss before he joined her with a shattering climax of his own.

When the shudders eased, she fell back against the
pillows, exhausted and tremulous. She had never experienced that exquisite, careful attention to her pleasure before, never flown quite that high…or returned to earth quite so reluctantly.

Because now that it was over, she knew that despite this amazing moment in time they had shared, two things hadn’t changed.

First, Ford was still a journalist. And she was still terrified to put her faith in his integrity. As long as Sue Ellen’s fate hung in the balance, that would always stand between them.

Second, and just as troubling, she wanted him even more now than she had before they’d made love.

F
ord was still recovering from the most shattering release of his entire life when he realized that Emma was scrambling out of his bed as if she’d just remembered a life-or-death appointment. Unfortunately he had a hunch something else entirely was motivating her hurried departure. He reached for her hand and held on tight. She stilled at once, but he could sense the tension swirling through her as she sat on the edge of the bed, her rigid back to him.

“So, what’s the deal, Emma? Where are you going?” he asked, deliberately keeping his tone calm.

“I need to get home,” she said without meeting his gaze.

Determined to keep up the pretense that her behavior was nothing out of the ordinary, he glanced at the clock. “It’s early yet. Just call Mrs. Harrison to check on Caitlyn, then we can order that dinner I promised you.”

She was already shaking her head before the words were out of his mouth. “I’m not hungry.”

“Then stay while I eat. I’d like the company.”

“I don’t think so. You don’t need to get up. I’ll call a cab.”

Clearly something was going on that Ford didn’t grasp. Something in the past couple of hours had made her panic. He recalled what Ryan had said just before Emma had left Winding River, that she was running scared. If she’d been frightened of what was happening between them then, it was little wonder she was panicky now. He couldn’t let her run this time. She might never stop.

“Emma, what’s this all about? Why are you running away?” he asked, deliberately choosing words that would annoy her.

“I’m not running away,” she claimed, her cheeks flushed with indignation at the accusation.

“You could have fooled me.”

“Just because I have responsibilities does not mean I’m running away.”

“We talked about our plans for the evening. We were going to share dinner, make love and then I was going to take you home later. Aside from the sequence of events, what’s changed?” He tucked a finger under her chin and forced her to face him. “Did I miss something here? Wasn’t this as good for you as it was for me? If not, you need to tell me.”

“Typical male ego,” she said sarcastically. “All you’re worried about is your performance in bed.”

“No,” Ford said patiently. “What I’m trying to do is get to the bottom of your sudden change of heart.”

Sparks flashed in her eyes. “There’s something wrong with me because I want to go home?”

“No, not because you want to go home. Because you want to do it right this second. And there’s nothing wrong with that, either. I just think I deserve an explanation. Obviously something has shaken you. Come on, Emma. Talk to me. If this isn’t about the sex, what is it about? Is it about the two of us?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she said, regarding him impatiently. “You’re not going to be satisfied until I spell it out for you, are you?”

“No.”

“Okay, then it is about the sex,” she said with heart-stopping candor.

Even though he was convinced it wasn’t that simple, Ford felt the breath go out of him. He’d just had the most incredible sexual experience of his life and she had a complaint? How could they have been on such different wavelengths? He’d watched her eyes, seen the wonder when she reached her climax. He’d felt her trembling beneath him, felt the way her body responded to every caress.

“Okay, lay it on me,” he said, bracing himself for the worst.

“It was good,” she said with obvious reluctance. “In fact, it was very, very good.”

Now he was totally confused. “And that’s bad?”

“It’s awful,” she admitted. “This was supposed to put an end to the attraction, right? Wasn’t that what we both expected?”

“Hoped for, maybe, but expected? No, that is not what I expected,” he told her, relieved that his initial grasp of the problem, at least as she saw it, was pretty much on target.

“Well, I did. I wanted it to be over after this, because you can’t matter to me.”

“I can’t?” he said cautiously. Wasn’t it usually the man who was commitment shy? Just his luck to find a woman who was terrified of happily-ever-after just when he was beginning to think about it.

“Absolutely not.”

“But, somehow, after this, I do matter?”

She nodded, looking so genuinely miserable that he couldn’t bring himself to laugh.

“Darlin’, you’re going to have to explain that one to me.”

“Nothing’s changed. You’re still a journalist, and I cannot, I
will not
get involved with a newspaperman. This…” She waved her hand around to include the rumpled sheets, his hand, which rested possessively on her thigh. “It’s wrong. We couldn’t be more wrong for each other.”

“I think that horse may already be out of the barn. We’re involved, and saying we can’t be won’t change anything.”

“Of course it will. I don’t have to see you again—not like this anyway. I’d hoped I wouldn’t even want to, but that was a mistake.” She sighed. “A huge mistake.”

Despite her words, Ford was taking heart from the sentiment behind them. “No, you don’t have to sleep with me ever again, but I would certainly be disappointed if you didn’t. And, to be perfectly honest, I think you would be, too. We’re good together, Emma. Better than good. We’re incredible.”

“In bed, maybe.”

“In bed, definitely,” he corrected. “And in other ways as well.”

Her chin tilted up. “Well, it’s not going to happen, not the sex, not anything, and that’s that,” she said
flatly. “I will not have you in my life. Ford. I must have been out of my mind to let it go this far. I should have been honest from the minute we met and told you straight out that there was no future for us.”

“Because of what I do for a living?” he asked carefully, needing to be absolutely sure he was getting the correct message here.

“Yes.”

Ford had done his best, he had clung to his patience by a thread because she was so evidently rattled, but this was the last straw. He was getting damned tired of being blamed for something some other journalist had apparently done to destroy her trust in everyone associated with the media. For her to continue to hold it against him, even after all these weeks when she’d seen the kind of man he was, was infuriating. No, it was more than that. It was insulting.

“Okay,” he began slowly. “If it’s what you really want, what you’re determined to do, I’ll let you go, not just tonight but for good…on one condition.”

“What?” she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Tell me why you have it in for journalists. I think I deserve to understand that much at least, especially since you claim that’s the only reason we can’t be together.”

“They’re not trustworthy,” she said, uttering the blanket condemnation with a perfectly straight face. “I can’t be with someone who isn’t trustworthy.”

“You can go into court and defend a man who’s guilty as sin of repeated drunk-driving offenses without making any moral judgments, and yet all journalists are untrustworthy, including one you know as well as you know me?” he asked with barely concealed irony.

“One thing has nothing to do with the other,” she insisted.

He shook his head. “You’re going to have to do better than that. I’m not letting you off the hook this time. I want specifics.”

To his astonishment, he realized there were tears leaking from her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. “Emma?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

His annoyance faded in the face of her very real anguish. “I think you need to. Please tell me. I’ve asked you before and you’ve put me off, but I have to know. Did someone misquote you?”

She shook her head. “If only it had been something that simple.”

“What then?”

When she lifted her gaze to meet his, there was a brief flash of anger in her eyes, but mostly she just looked sad. “I never even talked to him, not even once, but nobody would believe that,” she whispered with a hitch in her voice.

“Him?”

“A reporter for one of the Denver papers.”

“What happened?”

She sighed then, but she finally began to talk. “There was a story about a case I was handling. Very high profile. Very tricky defense.”

“Okay,” he said quietly, then waited for the rest.

“They all thought I had spilled confidential information about a client to a reporter.” She looked as stricken as if it had happened just yesterday. “My partners were ready to fire me. After all, there it was in black and white, information only I could have known, enough to put my client behind bars. Maybe that’s
where he belonged, but that wasn’t the point. I would never,
never
do something so unethical.”

Ford held his breath through the soft confession. She glanced at him and he saw the terrible price she had paid for what had happened, for having her integrity called into question by the people she worked with, people she respected.

“I believe that,” he said. “I know you’re not capable of doing anything like that.”

She met his gaze. “Do you really?”

“Of course. Did you clear your name?”

“Eventually.”

“How?”

“I proved that someone else had leaked the information, that the reporter knew the information wasn’t coming from me but linked my name to it anyway for a price.”

Ford was stunned. “Who would do such a terrible thing?”

For the longest time, he thought she might not answer. Her lower lip quivered, but finally she drew in a deep, shuddering breath and faced him with a look of resolve on her face. “My husband.”

He felt as if the wind had just been knocked out of him, which, of course, was nothing compared to the way Emma must have felt when she made the discovery. “What? How? Why the hell would he do something like that?”

“To get me fired,” she said wearily. “He wanted me to stop practicing law. He’d begged, pleaded, cajoled, ordered. It was a control thing with him. He couldn’t stand it that I was thought of as his equal, that I brought home as much money as he did. He belittled me every chance he got.”

“And you stood for that?” he asked, incredulous and yet somehow not surprised. It was why she felt so strongly about Sue Ellen’s reasons for staying so long with Donny.

“For far too long,” she admitted. “I’m not proud of it, but he was the father of my child. I wanted to believe that once he saw how good I was, he’d be proud of me.”

“But he wasn’t,” Ford guessed.

“Not even close. Since nothing else had worked, he decided to discredit me, to get me disbarred. He went to an acquaintance at one of the papers, a man known for not being particularly scrupulous about where he got his information. Kit fed him the information about my client on the condition that I be the one quoted. Naturally the story was too juicy for the man to resist. Apparently he had no qualms at all about using the information and linking my name to it—only in the most carefully chosen words, of course.”

“The man told this to the authorities? He admitted that Kit had manipulated the whole thing?”

“Never,” she said with disdain. “He was so blasted self-righteous. He claimed he was protecting his sources, that he’d never actually said I was the one who gave him the information, but it was all there for anyone with half a brain to reach the conclusion that I was the one who’d leaked the story.”

“Then how do you know your husband was involved?”

“I hired an investigator. He discovered that there was a rather timely deposit in the reporter’s bank account that he couldn’t deny. It matched a withdrawal that Kit had made from our account. When I confronted
Kit, he didn’t deny it. He said he’d done it because he loved me.”

“Dear God,” Ford whispered. “I’m sorry. But surely you know that not all journalists are like that. The business has its sleazy reporters, but most are honest, hardworking people who care about getting the facts right and exposing corruption, not becoming corrupt themselves.”

“Intellectually, I suppose I can accept that,” Emma said, then touched a hand to her stomach. “But in here, I lump the whole lot of you together with that slime who conspired with my ex-husband.”

“I suppose that’s understandable,” Ford said slowly. “But I’m going to change your mind, Emma. I promise you that. I’m going to do whatever it takes to prove to you that I’m not one of the bad guys.”

Unfortunately, he had no idea how he was going to pull that transformation off. Her distrust was deep-rooted and, now that he knew the reason why, he could also see that it was understandable. Proving to her that the reporter who’d harmed her had been the exception, not the rule, wasn’t going to be as simple as reminding her that it was never wise to stereotype. It was going to take time and patience. And with Sue Ellen’s case the only thing bringing Emma back and forth to Winding River on a frequent basis, he was going to have to work quickly or he would lose her.

He glanced at her profile, let his gaze travel the curve of her spine, the swell of her breast. He felt himself grow hard, felt his heart begin to pound, and reached a conclusion. Losing Emma was not an option.

Emma couldn’t believe she had told the whole horrible story to Ford. Few people knew the depths to
which Kit had sunk in his attempts to control her life. It was part of the agreement she’d made with him at the time of the divorce. She had promised to say nothing, as long as he didn’t contest the divorce and cleared her name with her law firm. Because his career was so all-important to him, he had agreed. She hadn’t given him any choice.

She would have used the same leverage to keep him from claiming custody of Caitlyn, but it hadn’t been necessary. The doting new woman in his life had gotten pregnant before the ink was dry on the divorce papers. He’d been able to focus all of his obsessive attention on the second Mrs. Rogers. She was more than willing to stay at home and be kept in style.

When Emma thought back to those days, she couldn’t believe she had survived them. She had been as close to despair as it was possible to get and still pull out of it without counseling or prescription drugs. Sheer determination and a commitment to her own career and to Caitlyn had kept her going.

Even so, she had paid a price. She didn’t trust easily, and certainly not journalists. Rarely did she even trust men in general. No, that wasn’t entirely true. What she didn’t trust was her own judgment when it came to men. Ford had somehow slipped past her defenses and gotten closer than any man had in years.