"The fantasy date would be like a practice partner. I can explore what I really want, find out where I went wrong. Then maybe the next time around, if there is a next time, I can get it right."
Sabrina nodded. "That's not bad thinking. Have a fling under very clear and very safe circumstances. No misunderstandings, no complications."
Emma set her chin in a determined line. "Exactly." Her stomach churned with nerves, but after this there would be no going back to her old self, her old life, the patterns and habits that were so obviously not working and needed to be changed.
"Well, I guess it's unanimous," Rachel said. "Here's to our fantasies, and the men who will fulfill them." She raised an imaginary glass in a toast, and the other two women followed suit.
Gage Michaels thought the shock of his life had come a month earlier, when his wife informed him over the phone that she was staying in a hotel for a cooling-off period. Whatever the hell that meant.
He refused to believe it meant she wanted a divorce, because he hadn't been served papers, and besides, the idea was ridiculous. Emma, gone for good? No. Emma was his, they belonged together, and she belonged at home.
He'd given her a week to come to her senses. Then he'd tried to call her. She wasn't ready to talk to him, she'd said. He'd tried to see her. She didn't want to see him. He'd been patient, given her space, but enough was enough. Whatever her reasons, she owed him an explanation, and then she was coming home with him.
Tension tightened his muscles, and Gage rubbed at the back of his neck in irritation. Under his frustration and impatience with the current situation, an icy sensation had crept into his gut, and he didn't like it one bit.
They'd had some disagreements over the years. That was bound to happen to any couple, especially a couple that more or less grew up together. But in sixteen years, there
had never been a serious disagreement. Never this silence and separation.
The ice inside him cracked and expanded and whispered that maybe Emma simply didn't want him anymore. He wasn't the high school's star quarterback now, he was a businessman. He'd channeled the same drive to succeed into work that he'd put into winning on the field, but was it possible Emma wasn't as impressed with his wins in the business world as she'd been when he'd thrown a touchdown pass?
Sixteen years, and it seemed like yesterday that he'd finally gotten the attention of quiet, studious Emma Walker. Her soft green eyes had glowed with admiration when they met his. Buoyed by the win and his part in it, Gage had gotten up the nerve to ask her out. Emma, the girl who was out of his league, a rich girl, smart, an honor student, while he distinguished himself in sports. To his disbelief and never-ending satisfaction, she'd said yes.
Later, she'd said yes to so much more.
Yes to his suggestion that they take a drive. Yes when he'd blurted out that he wanted to kiss her. And if he lived to be a hundred, he'd never forget Emma saying yes the night he did his fumbling, hormone-crazed teenage best to seduce her in the back of his car, knowing all the while that it wasn't good enough for her. It wasn't what she deserved.
As the years went by, Gage had driven himself to achieve, to succeed, to give Emma everything she ought to have. He'd never wanted her to feel she'd given up the life she should have had by marrying him. He'd never wanted her to regret choosing him instead of somebody else.
Now he stood just inside the reception area of Opal Life
Insurance, listening as Emma declared her intentions to have sex with a practice partner. Because she thought she'd failed with him. Because she believed he was having an affair.
Gage wasn't sure which statement bothered him more, that she thought he'd cheated on her or that it could possibly be her fault if he had. There was no question how he felt about Emma having sex with another man. It would happen over his dead body.
He'd wanted to know why Emma left, what was bothering her. Well, now he knew. The next step would be deciding what to do with that information. Until he'd had time to think it over, confronting Emma here was probably not the best idea. So Gage quietly went back out the way he'd come in.
Going home to the house that felt far too empty without her didn't appeal, so he drove back to his office. The route was familiar enough to make the trip almost automatic, leaving him free to think. Once the initial shock subsided, one fact emerged: Emma never would have believed he would betray her without convincing evidence. Something or somebody had convinced her. Since his assistant was the one Emma believed he'd betrayed her with, Gage had a few questions for Tanya Wells.
He found her still at her desk, long nails clicking on the keyboard as she typed. "Good, you're still here," he said.
Tanya looked up at him and smiled. "Finishing up that report you needed for Monday's meeting."
"That can wait. I want to ask you something."
"Oh?" Brows arched, she hit "save" and swiveled toward him. Her eyes darkened, and he noted with detachment that she was displaying a fair amount of cleavage to
him. The signs were there, now that he was looking for them. Why hadn't he noticed sooner that his assistant had a more than business interest in him?
"Did you want to talk over dinner?" Tanya asked him, lips curving in a suggestive smile.
"I don't want to keep you from your plans," Gage said. "I just wondered if you might know why my wife believes I'm sleeping with you. I hadn't said anything to give her the idea that I was interested in another woman. Somebody helped me out there."
"She believes it because I told her," Tanya said, not missing a beat. "I did it for you. She was holding you back, Gage. She didn't support your goals. She didn't like you working evenings and weekends. Remember the Monroe account? She wanted you to reschedule the trip to Denver."
"That would be because you scheduled the Denver trip so that it fell on her birthday," Gage said in a mild tone.
"The timing was critical." Her mouth hardened into a mutinous line.
"No, it wasn't. It could have been scheduled any other time that month. You created a conflict deliberately, and I was too busy and too blind to notice." He studied her for a minute, looking for any sign that she understood and regretted the harm she'd done. He saw only sullen determination. "You're fired."
"What?" Shock froze her for a few moments. Then her eyes narrowed, and anger twisted her face into a very unattractive expression. "You can't do that to me."
"I can, actually." Gage slid his hands into his pockets so he wouldn't be tempted to throw her out bodily. "I'm the boss. I get to choose who I work with. An executive assistant
occupies a position of trust. You stabbed me in the back, and I wouldn't trust you to order lunch now. I also have a few problems with your ethics. So, you're fired. I'll give you ten minutes to pack up your personal items and get out."
Her mouth opened and closed a few times. Then she stood up and without a word began yanking open drawers, pulling out her purse and the other items that personalized her work space. It didn't take her ten minutes—it took approximately three, and then she was gone, slamming the door behind her.
Which removed at least one obstacle. Getting Emma back was going to be a greater challenge than he'd expected. And he had a deadline to work with now. Emma was determined to have a blind date assigned to her from that dating agency. Allowing his wife space was one thing; letting her date another man for the purpose of experimenting with sex was not going to happen.
But what if
he
was Emma's agency date?
Gage considered the plan and turned it around in his mind, examining it for strengths and weaknesses. The more he pondered it, the more he saw that it offered several advantages. If he captured Emma, they would have dedicated time alone together. A perfect opportunity to work things out, give him time to convince Emma she had nothing to worry about from Tanya and that there was nothing wrong with their sex life, either.
Although he had to admit that the opportunity to spice up their familiar lovemaking had appeal all on its own. Clearly, Emma had fantasies he'd never imagined she entertained. He found that intriguing, and imagining Emma delivered to him, his willing captive for all the sensual pleasure
he wanted to lavish on her luscious body, made his cock harden.
This could be an opportunity for more than straightening out the misunderstanding and hurt between them. If Emma wanted more in the bedroom, Gage was very willing to accommodate her. Sexual games, toys, props . . . there was a world of possibilities to explore. Who knew what might be to Emma's taste?
He was going to give them both the opportunity to find out. And then Emma was coming home for good. The decision made, he wasted no time in putting it into action.
Two weeks later, Emma let the driver help her out of the limo that had been sent to bring her to the hotel where her captor waited. Everything had been planned by her mystery date, from the location of their rendezvous to how she would arrive and what she should wear. The clothes had been delivered the day before. When Emma had tried them on, she'd been sure they wouldn't fit or would look ridiculous.
Everything had fit. And she didn't look laughable. She'd stared at herself in the mirror, wondering who this stranger was staring back at her.
A white silk corset that laced tightly in the back and pushed up her breasts, emphasizing her cleavage, was the first item she'd put on. Next came a wisp of a thong in matching white silk and then sheer thigh-high stockings designed to stay up without garters. White shoes with high heels that made her legs look longer and more elegant than she would have thought possible. And over it, a faux fur coat in dark
mink that made her pale skin look luminescent and contrasted boldly with her strawberry blond hair.
She looked exotic. She looked, Emma realized, like a very expensive plaything bought for an evening of pleasure. Her round ass was bare against the coat's silk lining, and the lingerie felt like very fragile protection. The generous curves of her breast, hips, and bottom were not so much covered by the garments as put on display. The corset showed much more than cleavage; it left her dark rose aureoles exposed and her nipples barely concealed. And her sex was clearly visible through the thin fabric of the thong.
The man who had chosen this outfit for her to wear wanted to see her body gift-wrapped in a way that was more enticing than full nudity. The thong would provide no protection at all. He could stroke her covered sex with as little impediment as if she were bare to his touch, and it would be easy for him to press a silk-covered finger into her if he chose. He could touch the upper curves of her breasts, lift them free of the corset to see her nipples if he wanted to. He could have her walk around in the privacy of their hotel suite, swaying on high heels, while he watched her bare backside bounce and shimmy.
Given the amount of thought he'd put into the details she knew about, Emma could only wonder what else he had planned for her. That had kept her awake the night before and inspired more than a few fantasies. Now she was about to find out. The final item she'd been instructed to wear was to be put on after she'd come to the reserved suite. She'd been given a silk blindfold, and she was to tie it over her eyes before knocking.
A tremor ran through her at the thought of being seen in her barely dressed state by a man she couldn't see at all. Although in a way, it was a relief. It made what she was doing less real, made him less real. A fantasy figure.
Emma checked in at the front desk, conscious all the while of her state of undress and certain that somebody suspected. Her nipples made stiff little points against the tight silk of her corset. She was so aware of her body and her almost nudity that it seemed impossible everybody around her wasn't aware of it, too.
She felt herself blushing as she took the card key that would open the room where a man waited for her and walked as fast as she dared in her high heels to the elevator. She breathed a sigh of relief when the doors slid closed, encapsulating her in privacy and solitude, safe from curious or lascivious stares.
When the doors opened on the penthouse floor, Emma tightened her grip on the card, walked to the door, and slid the card into the reader slot. The door unlocked with an audible click. She glanced around to make sure she wouldn't be seen and tied the blindfold over her eyes. Then she knocked on the door before pushing it open.
Silence greeted her. Emma took a few steps in, feeling her way, then stopped. She'd come in far enough for the door to shut behind her, and the sound it made when it closed almost made her jump. She hesitated, not sure if she should wait or come in, half-afraid of tripping over something in the unfamiliar setting and in the unaccustomed height of her heels.
She felt a finger brush her cheek and drew in a sharp breath. Her heartbeat sped up, and fine tremors ran through
her. She felt hands move to the front of her coat and slowly undo the buttons that held it closed, one by one, all the way down. Then she heard the man move behind her. He gripped the coat and slid it off her shoulders, down her arms, then used it to trap her lower arms in the sleeves as he pulled her back against him.
A whisper breathed near her ear. "How lovely."
A hand came to rest just below her throat, then slid lower to rest on the bare upper curves of her breasts. It was a possessive touch, one full of intent, and Emma swallowed hard as she realized that he could touch or take anything he wanted. And he would.