Emily's Affair (29 page)

Emily sighed and wondered if it truly would be the worst thing in the world if she were to open up and admit to him that she was in love with him.

She doubted it. Jake was a dream come true. Never in all her days would she have expected to find a man who cherished her the way Jake did. Who held her all through the night, supported her when she needed it, respected her for her intelligence, comforted her when she had a bad day, and touched her in so many different ways and on so many different levels.

Emily smiled and kicked off one shoe, then the other. She lifted one foot and placed it on his knee, then eased her fingers under the edge of her thigh highs and rolled the stocking down her leg. "It was a very good daydream. I could tell you about it…," she switched legs and removed the other thigh high, "or I could show you."

His breathing was harsh and ragged.

Emily watched him from underneath veiled lashes and sucked the tip of her finger, then trailed it down his chest to the bulge in his jeans. "Mmm, and I would love so very much to show you."

Jake gripped the arms of the chair and tried in vain to force the images of Emily kneeling before a faceless man and loving him with her mouth out of his head. It was impossible. Damn impossible. Especially when she was caressing him with knowledgeable hands and taking him to the brink of insanity with her tongue.

His head fell back and he closed his eyes. He should have confronted her when she walked in. He should have said what he had to say, then walked out.

But… damn she was good at this.
Too good.

Jake wanted to punish her for not telling him. For not trusting him. He wanted to hunt down all those men who looked at her, lusted after her,
touched her
. He wanted to kill every man who ever dared to look on his woman.

And then he wanted to hurt her for keeping it from him. To show her what her lack of trust made him feel. To make her feel his pain and frustration.

Jake growled, then gripped her by the back of the head, riding his anger to the edge, and let her take all of him. He exploded with a harsh, guttural shout where he received no pleasure, but an empty physical release.

Emily licked her lips and watched Jake with heavy lids. One kiss and she knew she'd be a squirming mass of quivering flesh on the floor. And she reveled in the fact.

She sucked in her breath as he pulled her by the scruff of the neck across his lap and brought them nose to nose. She purred, melting into his domineering strength.

"Is that how you supplemented your income between acts at the Loose Screw," he asked in a chilling, venomous voice.

Emily's blood ran cold. Time passed in a heavy silence as she dissected and digested the full weight of his words. "The… you know," she whispered in horror. "How did you…?"

Jake's hand flexed, encircling her throat, and showed her how easy it would be for him to snuff out her life.

Emily trembled. He was seething. She'd never seen Jake seethe before. It was a terrifying experience. "Jake, I—"

Jake released her abruptly and stood up. He stared down on her with accusing eyes while he fixed his jeans.

Tears blurred her vision. He'd found out. Marilyn had been wrong. Jake wasn't understanding. But how did he find out? Did it matter? Apparently not to Jake. He wanted nothing to do with her. She should at least… oh, what's the use? Why bother trying to correct his assumption? He'd obviously already made up his mind. His disgust of her was written in those eyes which used to look at her with such tenderness that it hurt to endure it. It would just make a bigger mess if she recounted every detail of her brief career as an exotic dancer.

It was easier to let him think whatever he wanted and to get out of her life. This relationship was interfering with her work as it was. And Stafford & Co. was the most important thing in her life. Jake was making more and more demands on her time.

So it would be better if things ended.

Here and now.

Emily's hands clenched in fists of rage and her nails bit in to her palms as she forced her heart to stop its protesting and accept the end with dignity.

A muscle twitched in his jaw and Jake reached into his pocket, then pulled out the key she'd given him. The key she'd fretted over giving him. The key she'd worried would allow Jake too much access into her life.

Jake glanced at the key, then at her.

Emily lowered her lashes and gathered her strength. She would not lose control. "Get out."

He didn't move.

She opened her eyes and raised her head. "Get out. Now."

Jake dropped the key in her lap and, leaving her with one last look of loathing which would be forever etched upon her mind, stepped over her.

The front door slammed shut behind him and Emily let the hot tears fall. She pushed herself up from the floor and carried the key to the hope chest backed up to the end of the bed.

She would not lose control.

Emily opened the chest and threw the key inside.

It hurt, but… no pain, no gain. She'd had her fun and now it was time to go back to what was really important.

Her business.

A coldness seeped into her bones and she welcomed the return of the familiar old sensations. At least she knew how to deal with the humiliation. She knew how to deal with the rejection. She knew how to cope with the loneliness. She knew how to channel the anger.

She did it once before and she would do it again.

The lid banged shut and she turned her back on the hope chest.

It was time she got on with her life and dedicated all her energies to solving the problems with the newest site for Stafford & Co.. The builders and bureaucrats controlling the construction had walked all over her long enough.

Lee swiped the tears from her eyes and picked up her shirt, then, putting it on, headed for the living room and her briefcase.

Jake yanked the mailroom door open, then brushed the rain from his hair. The dismal late morning weather reflected his mood. It'd been two weeks since ending things with Emily and his disposition could only get worse if he went out and bought a bottle of tequila to comfort him.

The thought was tempting.

Too much so.

The night he walked out on Emily he'd nearly succumbed, but not even Jose Cuervo had possessed the power to soothe his blinding anger and Jake had hurled the bottle against the wall, watching with savage pleasure as the unholy liquid splattered and stained the plaster wall.

Jake scowled at the mailboxes. He'd even changed his habits so he wouldn't accidentally run into Emily. He couldn't take the chance. He was a weak man and he knew it. Just last night he'd almost said to hell with it and marched up to her door to demand that she make up with him.

Lucky for him she hadn't been home.

Of course, she wasn't home often these days. She left at the crack of dawn and didn't return home until after Jake got home from The Brigade. Her behavior didn't come as a surprise. Emily didn't know how to deal with a buffet of emotions.

Hell, for that matter, neither did Jake. But he was coping better than Emily. He knew he was, because he hadn't turned to Jose Cuervo. But Emily had shut him out and buried herself in her business. More like, she was drowning herself in it.

But Jake wasn't about to throw her a life line. If she wanted him, then she damn well had to come out of her hole and fight for him. He'd given her every chance he could, but it was time for her to do some of the work.

Jake ran a hand through his hair.

The waiting game was killing him. He'd give her another week and that's it. One more week and then he'd do something drastic. He didn't know what, but he would cross that bridge when he got to it.

Footsteps splashed in the puddles on the sidewalk and Jake glanced over his shoulder. A woman raced up the walk for the main building's mailroom.

Jake tensed, then logic kicked in and he forced himself to relax. The woman couldn't be Emily. Emily would be at work. It was eleven o'clock in the morning. And even if it was Emily coming home early, it was a work day and she would be dressed in her usual business attire. Not in a casual sundress which stopped an inch above her knee and sandals.

No, it was definitely not Emily.

Jake opened the door for the woman.

The woman paused at the threshold and closed her umbrella, shaking the water outside the door. "Thank you."

Jake sucked in a breath.
Emily
.

She finished fumbling with her umbrella, then raised her head. Her friendly smile disappeared and a knife twisted in Jake's gut. She was thin and there were circles under her eyes. She looked fragile and delicate. And vulnerable.

Jake steeled himself against the urgings of his conscience and reaffirmed his vow to wait for her to come to him. He would not take her in his arms and let her walk all over him. He was not a pushover. He was tolerant. Patient. Easy-going.

And so damn in love with her that he was consumed with thoughts of her day in and day out, but he would not sacrifice his pride to win her back.

It was a matter of pride.

Emily broke the awkward silence when she turned on one heel and marched to her mailbox. She jammed the key into the lock and jerked the door open.

This silence and distance was driving him insane. He had two choices—walk out of the mailroom without saying a word, or say something and try to get her to at least acknowledge his presence.

If walking out didn't shake her up two weeks ago, then why the hell would it work now?

"Emily—"

"
Go to hell
."

"Dammit, how did you expect me to react?"

"I didn't expect anything."

"Because you never planned to tell me."

Emily spun around and glared at him. "
That
is not true. I would have told you."

"When?"

"When I was good and ready."

"Oh, that's nice and specific," Jake replied with a heavy dose of sarcasm. "And here I thought you were saving it up until you decided you wanted out."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" Jake gave a harsh laugh. "And to think I felt guilty for walking out." He didn't miss the brief flash of pain which crossed her face nor the hope it inspired in him, and he added, "But I shouldn't, because there was never anything between us, but great sex."

The mail crumbled in her fist, but she held her tongue.

Jake couldn't take another second of looking at her without grabbing her and shaking the life from her. He turned and strode for the door. He didn't make it out into the cool, soothing rain.

A sandal hit him square in the back and he halted, then slowly turned and faced her.

Emily, poised with the second sandal in her hand, glowered at him. "That is a lie. It was more than sex."