Break Away (The Baltimore Banners Book 5) (14 page)

Emily stood in the hallway connecting the garage to the house, waiting for JP to turn on the lights so she could follow him. His movements were slow and jerky, each step hesitant. For a minute, Emily worried that he regretted bringing her here, that he was reconsidering the entire idea. The thought made her stomach clench, made her question her impulsive suggestion back at the restaurant.

No, not impulsive. The words hadn't just tumbled from her mouth with no thought. Quite the opposite, in fact. The idea, the need, had been with her since last week, when he had asked her out to dinner. And it had taken her all night to work up the courage to say something. Longer than all night. She had been convincing herself since that morning.

And the words had come out all wrong, nothing like she had planned. She had wanted to be seductive and alluring, a worldly temptress. Instead, her words had been shy and unsure. And obviously confusing, since JP didn't understand her at first.

None of which made her feel comfortable or at ease. Her stomach tilted, clenching and easing, and her heart beat too quickly. Her palms were damp, just enough to make her want to wipe them along the side of her legs—except she was wearing a dress and wouldn't that just look tacky.

At least JP liked the dress she had chosen, if his glances all night were an indication. And the heels. Strappy four-inch heels that were all wrong for the cold weather and entirely too high to be comfortable. Right now, Emily would love nothing better than to kick them off. Why had she thought she could wear them all night without tripping?

She had known she would be nervous. But this, what she was feeling now—this went beyond nervous. Not quite terrified, but close.

She followed JP through the small hallway and into the main part of the house, her eyes blinking at the sudden brightness when he turned on more lights. The kitchen spread out to her left, an open modern design that incorporated a dining room before flowing into an even larger living room. Cathedral ceilings soared overhead, showcasing exposed beams that gave the space a warm rustic look despite its size. The feeling was enhanced by the large fireplace set in the center of the far wall made of large, smooth rocks. Wood had been placed on the grate inside, ready to be lit with the strike of a single match.

Emily looked around the room, taking in details she hadn’t noticed before. Warm wood floors covered with brightly patterned throw rugs. The dark wood coffee table constructed of wide sturdy planks. The matching end tables that flanked the soft leather sofas and recliners. The large room was warm and welcoming, the rustic décor somehow more polished and refined than she remembered. Not that she had noticed many details her last time here.

Had it only been a few weeks ago? She hadn't been thinking clearly then, both mentally and emotionally drained. Her surroundings hadn't mattered and she hadn't been in the mood to notice.

Her gaze lingered on the large sofa and she felt her face heat. Well, maybe she did remember some details.

"Do you want something to drink?" JP called from the kitchen, his back to her as he reached into the refrigerator. He didn't seem to notice that she hadn't answered because he pulled out a bottle of wine and uncorked it. Glass hit against glass as he poured the wine. Was it her imagination, or were his hands shaking, just the tiniest bit?

Emily stilled, unable to move as she watched him. He looked so different tonight, dressed in a dark tailored suit that hugged his lean frame. His dark hair was brushed back from his forehead, styled a little more carefully than his usual tousled look. The ends still curled past his collar, giving him an air of devilishness, letting the world know he would never quite conform to its strict guidelines of respectability.

What a silly thought to have. No, JP would never be mistaken for a lawyer or a doctor or an accountant. He possessed too much energy, too much controlled power, like an animal poised at the edge of striking.

Which was another silly thought. No, not silly. Dangerous.

Yes, JP was definitely dangerous. To her, to her sense of well-being. He had the power to hurt her, more power than any other man she had ever met.

Why was she here? If she knew the potential for being hurt, why was she here, willingly putting herself in that position?

Her eyes roamed over him, watching as he approached her, his steps hesitant, his eyes carefully shielded. Like he was the one who was nervous and unsure.

And she wanted him. Despite the risk, despite the danger, she wanted him. He was the only man who had ever intrigued her, the only man who had ever touched her.

No, he wasn't the same man he had been all those years ago. She wasn't the same woman, either. They had both changed, grown, become different. But she still felt his pull, still felt drawn to him.

She had no idea what would happen, if this would turn out to the biggest mistake she'd ever make. But Emily was tired of living in shadows, of not taking chances, of letting life slip by. She had spent too much time this past week thinking and she didn't like the conclusions she had reached.

That didn't mean she wasn't nervous. She was, more nervous than she'd been in a very long time. It helped to think that maybe, just maybe, JP was nervous as well.

Though what he had to be nervous about was a complete mystery to her.

He stopped in front her and held out a glass, a small smile lifting one corner of his mouth. Emily accepted the glass, a small tingle rushing through her when their fingers brushed. She lowered her gaze and took a sip, then looked around the room once more, wondering what to do next.

JP didn't seem to sense her hesitation. He moved to the sofa and took a seat, stretching his long legs out before resting his right ankle on his left knee. He looked over at her, like he was waiting for her to join him and didn't understand why she was still standing there.

The high heels of her shoes clicked against the wooden floor, the sound sharp and loud in the surrounding silence. Emily lowered herself to the plush sofa and tried to get comfortable. Instead of perching on the edge in what she hoped was at least a slightly seductive pose, she felt herself pulled back, swallowed by the buttery softness of the overstuffed cushion.

JP didn't notice. His gaze was focused on the glass of wine in his hand, on the swirling liquid dancing along the sides of the glass as he twirled the stem between his fingers. Emily watched him from the corner of her eye and noticed the small frown on his face.

Doubt crashed around her. Had she assumed too much? Maybe JP had only wanted to have dinner, to talk. Maybe he hadn't been thinking of having sex at all. Was she so out of practice that she didn't even know how to read the signs anymore?

Obviously she was.

Emily lifted the glass to her lips and took a long swallow of the wine. Then another, nearly draining the glass. Foolish. So foolish. Isn't that what Monica had called her?

Maybe her sister was right after all.

She slid to the edge of the sofa, no longer caring how clumsy or out of place she looked, and placed the glass on the table. She tried to stand, to push herself up. The heel of one shoe caught the edge of the throw rug and she lost her balance, sinking back down onto the sofa.

The move finally got JP's attention and he looked over at her, the frown still in place. His eyes narrowed briefly then his face smoothed, empty of all expression. He leaned forward and placed his glass next to hers before shifting, finally facing her.

"Are you okay?"

Emily didn't know whether to laugh or scream. Was she okay? No, she wasn't. She was a fool, nothing more, nothing less. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm sorry. This was a bad idea. Maybe you should just take me home."

Was that disappointment that crossed his face? No, it couldn't be. Just more wishful thinking on her part.

JP finally nodded, a curt movement of his head, then pushed himself to a standing position in one fluid movement. He stopped in front of her and held out his hand, offering assistance. Emily thought about ignoring the offer, almost afraid of touching him. But her hesitation lasted only a second. A tingle shot up her arm when his hand closed around hers, large and warm. Then she was standing, her body mere inches from his. All she had to do was look up—

He was watching her, his dark eyes intense and unreadable, their expression hooded. The breath hitched in her chest, the air around her heavy, warm. His hand tightened around hers, pulling her even closer. He let go of her hand, ran his own up her bare arm, pebbling her skin.

He was going to kiss her. She could see it in his eyes, in the way his head tilted, his full lips parting slightly. Her heart pounded in her chest as anticipation filled her. She closed her eyes, felt the warmth of his mouth as he pressed his lips against hers.

The kiss was sweet, slow, almost timid.

And over before she could enjoy it. She blinked, trying to focus, trying to figure out why JP was already pulling away. He wanted her, she knew that much, could feel the hard length of his erection pressed against her stomach. Desire lit his eyes, flashing in the gold flecks that danced in the brown of his irises.

So why was he pulling away? Why was he trying to be sweet? Emily didn't want sweet. She wanted fire and heat, she wanted to burn.

Like only JP could make her burn.

She grabbed his tie and pulled him even closer, stepping toward him and leaning up until her mouth closed over his. Her tongue darted out, teased the seam of his closed mouth until it opened under hers, until her tongue danced with his.

He tasted like wine and mint, fresh and heady. Intoxicating. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body more fully against his, deepening the kiss. A breathy groan filled her ears. His? Hers? She didn't care. All she cared about was getting closer, about feeding the need that erupted deep within her.

JP's arms came around her. His hands cupped her ass, squeezing as he pressed his erection tight against her. She moaned, her hips tilting, searching.

JP broke the kiss and pulled away, leaving her empty, confused. Her eyes searched his, looking for answers in their hooded depths.

"Jean-Pierre?" His name became a question, echoing her need for answers. He cupped her cheek in his palm then ran his fingers through her hair, the touch gentle, almost timid.

"I don't want to hurt you,
mon ange
."

The words stunned Emily. He was afraid of hurting her? Emotionally? Or physically? She didn't want to ask, was afraid of the answer. But she didn't want to stop. She didn't want tonight to end like this.

She didn't want to go home. No, not home. To her sister's house. Alone. Empty.

Emily stepped closer, pressing her body against his, smiling when he tried to take a step back and bumped against the edge of the table. Surprise flared in his eyes. Surprise—and uncertainty. Caution.

She pressed her mouth against his once more and nipped the fullness of his bottom lip, smiling at his quick intake of breath. She trailed her hand down his chest, past the waistband of his tailored pants, and cupped the rigid length of his erection.

"I'm not a fragile piece of glass that will break, Jean-Pierre. Don't treat me like one."

His hands tightened around her waist, holding her still. "Last time. When you said you didn't know you still wanted to. You said especially not with me. I don't want to hurt you,
Emilie
."

The words stilled her hands, made her pause. Why did he even remember that ridiculous comment? Is that why he was so hesitant? Emily shook her head and gave him a small smile, thinking she could distract him with a kiss. But he turned his head, just enough so she touched only the corner of his mouth.

"Tell me what you meant,
Emilie
." The words came out in a hoarse whisper, his breath warm against her cheek. Emily sighed and rested her head against his shoulder, wondering what to tell him. He must have sensed her hesitation because his arms tightened around her, holding her close. Comforting, reassuring. "Tell me."

Heat flooded her face as regret filled her. Why had she said anything that day? She should have stayed quiet, should have never opened her mouth. But that day had taken so much from her, had left her so drained that she hadn't been thinking clearly. She hadn't explained her comment then, hadn't explained it the second time when he had asked.

She didn't think she could get away with not answering him this time.

The minutes stretched around them, silent except for the sound of their breathing. And the sound of JP's heart, solid and steady, a little fast, beneath her ear. Emily closed her eyes and breathed in his warm scent, spicy and musky and masculine. Uniquely JP.

Could she tell him? Did she really have a choice?

"Tell me,
mon ange
." The words were nothing more than a warm breath against her temple, compelling, begging.

She fisted her hand in the lapel of his jacket and took a deep breath. Her words were soft, a mumble against the broad expanse of his hard chest. "I just...I haven't...there really hasn't been anyone else. I didn't think..."

Silence greeted her admission for a few long seconds and she wondered if he heard her. Then his body stiffened against hers. Yes, he heard.