A Wrong Bed Christmas: Ignited\Where There's Smoke - Page 62

Okay, he couldn’t be so presumptuous, but damned if there wasn’t something strong...and magical between them.

Weird to think of it as some fated thing, but that’s what it felt like. It was as if everything that had happened was preordained, designed for him in the stars. He’d never been the kind of guy to need a relationship, but something about Emma made him want more. Maybe he was going bonkers. But he didn’t think so. Because beneath his tough-guy exterior beat a heart longing for something more...and he was almost certain that Emma was part of it.

But she’d withdrawn from him both physically and mentally.

How could he reach her and show her he wanted more?

9

EMMA FINISHED DRYING her hair and slipped into the dress and tights she’d planned to wear to her parents’ party last night. It was a bit fancy for dinner at Walt’s house, but she didn’t have anything beyond a long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans. The clothes she’d worn yesterday held too many memories for her to handle...along with the fact she’d torn a hole in the knee of her leggings.

After gulping down the coffee and muffins, she’d requested a room and had been so exhausted she’d conked out on the bed without even taking off her boots. She’d slept for four hours, waking stiff and sore from her adventure, both inside and outside the cabin. Groggy, she’d run a bath and lay in the bubbles for another half hour. After washing her hair and scrubbing her body with a lovely lavender herbal soap, she felt almost human again.

At least on the outside.

Inside, her mind kept tripping back to Erik’s reaction to their being discovered. He’d been so unaffected...so normal.

Like nothing had happened.

And that hurt.

Last night she’d implied she could handle whatever happened between them, but she couldn’t. Wasn’t as if she’d lied—she wanted to be the girl who could sleep with a guy without dreaming about their babies. She admired modern women who could love ?em and leave ?em, but she wasn’t wired that way. Never had been. And even if she was, her problem was she’d already been half in love with Erik before she’d slept with him.

So where did that leave her?

She’d sensed Erik’s surprise when she requested her own room, but she didn’t feel comfortable sleeping with him at the moment. Not when they were back in the real world. And Walt arching a questioning look at them at her request only made her feel worse. He didn’t know they weren’t a real-life couple. So why not continue the facade for another night?

Didn’t she want to spend more time wrapped in Erik’s arms?

Shaking her head, answers escaping her, she swiped on her lip gloss and opened the door. Walt’s house was like none she’d ever seen. The rancher obviously took great pride in his Colorado mansion, sprawling against the evergreen landscape. A small creek ran through the vaulted foyer built of solid stone. Everything was wrought by a master craftsman and the effect was stunning. She found Erik and Walt in the vast great room. A fire roared in the massive stone fireplace, a huge Christmas tree glittered and the two men looked relaxed, sipping liquor out of highball glasses.

Walt stood. “Well, now, don’t you look pretty as a tulip.”

“Thank you,” Emma said, ducking her head, before remembering she wasn’t supposed to be the old Emma. Lifting her chin, she smiled. “How are you gentlemen this afternoon?”

“Well, thank you,” Walt said, extending a hand toward the built-in bar. “Pick your poison, madam.”

Erik rose and met her at the bar. “I’ll fix you something.”

“I can do it myself.”

“Well, hell, since you’re over there, Matheson, fix me another double. Maria will bring in some hors d’oeuvres in a few,” said Walt, clearly oblivious to the tension.

Erik touched her hand, making her stomach tremble nervously. She wanted to let go of her fears, but the uncertainty between them kept her guarded.

“You okay?” he asked.

“You keep asking me that,” she said, grabbing a glass and pouring a measure of what looked to be small-batch bourbon. She wasn’t much of a bourbon drinker but she needed something to calm her. “I’m fine.”

“We need to talk.”

Emma nodded. “But later. Mr. Grider has been so kind to us, it would be rude to excuse ourselves now. After dinner.”

He nodded and she took a sip, restraining herself from crinkling her nose at the strength of the whiskey. “Tell us about yourself, Mr. Grider.”

Tags: Kimberly Van Meter Billionaire Romance
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