Taming Emma (13 page)

She turned to go inside.

“I want to talk,” he said.

She stopped but didn’t turn.

“Why?”

“Because you deserve the truth. Because I owe it to you.”

She turned. “You don’t owe me anything.”

Luke stepped closer and she put her hand out to stop him.

“No, Luke. I mean what I’m saying; you don’t owe me an apology, a story, anything. But that doesn’t mean I will allow you to walk back into my life so you can clear your conscience. I…”
love you
,
she wanted to scream, but instead, swallowed back tears. “I just want you to go. Leave me alone.”

“You don’t mean that,” he said.

The headlights of Nate’s car turned onto the street and Emma exhaled, relieved. They both watched Nate pull onto the driveway, his expression changing when he laid eyes on Luke. Nate and Celia stepped out of the car and Luke looked from Nate to Celia to her now-smaller belly. Emma watched him scan the back seat, studying his expression when he didn’t see what he expected to see.

“Luke,” Celia said, always polite, even as her voice betrayed her fatigue.

Nate wrapped his arm around her. “Let’s go inside, honey. You need to rest.”

“I think you should go, Luke,” Emma said. She took Celia’s hand and led her to the door.

“What happened? The baby?”

“He was born too early but he’ll be ok. We’ll be able to bring him home soon,” Nate said.

She turned to watch Luke’s expression as he relaxed.

“I’m glad,” he said. “I want to talk to Emma.”

“No,” Nate said.

Emma and Celia watched.

“These weeks have been hard and we’re all tired. Just leave her be, she doesn’t need any more heartbreak in her life,” Nate said. He too sounded tired.

“I…” Luke started, then turned to meet Emma’s eyes. “I don’t intend…”

“Go home,” Nate said and turned to follow Emma and Celia inside.

“Nate, you shouldn’t…” Celia began, but Nate pushed the button to lower the garage door.

“Celia, no,” he said, his tone telling everyone the discussion was over.

“You ok?” Celia asked Emma once they were inside.

Emma shook her head, her throat too tight to speak. She looked out the window to watch Luke while he stood for a few moments staring at the closed garage door. He looked lost, like a frightened child left alone in the dark. He shook his head, looking down and running a hand through his mussed hair before getting into his car and driving away from the house. It took all she had to turn away.

Hope was a silly thing. It could break your heart.

Chapter Twelve

Luke drove home unsure of everything. The sight of Celia without her big belly, the look on their faces. When he was very young, his mother had said something to him that had stuck and crept up throughout his years, the shadow of the words repeating far too often. “A broken heart belongs to this life,” she’d said. She’d been right.

His phone rang and he answered without checking the display. He needed the distraction.

“Hey, brother.” Jake’s slight drawl came over the speaker.

“Hey, Jake,” Luke said, smiling a little. Jake, who was younger than he by two years, could always make him laugh. Even just the sound of his voice did it. Luke could imagine him sitting behind his desk, drinking a whiskey, his cowboy boot clad feet up on the desk.

“Alec told me about your dad’s passing,” Jake said. “Just wanted to say if you need anything, I’m here.”

It took Luke a long time to answer. So long, that Jake had to ask if he was still there.

He was. But his brother’s non-judging kindness, on top of everything he’d been through ever since that night at the party, finally consumed him.

“Thank you,” Luke said. It was all he could manage. He wondered if his stepbrother heard his voice crack.

“Why don’t you call me when it’s a better time,” Jake said. “Or better yet, pay a visit one of these days.”

“I will, Jake.” Luke pulled into the parking lot of his building. “I appreciate you calling. Really, more than I can express with words.”

“It’s what family’s for, brother.”

Luke only stared straight ahead. “I have to go.”

“All right. Take care, Luke.”

Luke hung up and shut off the engine, but remained in his car in the dark lot. He covered his face with his hands and rubbed his forehead. He’d flown in from London earlier that day after having spent some time with his aunt and finally seeing his father after so many years. But in all the time he was there, he’d only been able to think about Emma. About how he’d hurt her and left her like he had when he’d been the one to push her to trust him, to allow him to see her.

And now he was walking away, again.

He punched the steering wheel and muttered a curse before starting the engine. He was done walking away like a coward.

* * *

Emma was upstairs when she heard his voice.

“I’m sorry, Nate, but I’m not going anywhere until I talk to her,” Luke said.

“Is that Luke?” Celia asked when Emma walked out of the master bedroom and into the hallway.

“Luke, if she wants to talk to you, she’ll call…”

“Emma!” Luke called out.

Emma stood at the top of the stairs, her heart racing.

“God damn it!”

That was all she heard before the scuffle began and Emma flew down the stairs. “Stop it!”

They had each other by the collars of their shirts, arms tugging, ready to strike.

“Just stop!”

It was like they didn’t hear her. Before she knew it, they were on the ground, both of them talking but neither listening.

“Stop!” she called out again, this time grabbing hold of Luke’s arm. “Luke!” she screamed. He turned to her and in the moment of his distraction, Nate struck him, his fist catching Luke’s jaw.

“Oh my God! Nate!” Celia was down the stairs. “Nate, you…I can’t believe you’re fighting like this. Both of you! You should be ashamed of yourselves.”

The men looked at each other, both a little dazed. Nate reached a hand to Luke and Luke took it. They stood, Luke testing the spot Nate had hit.

“I’m sorry,” Nate said. “I didn’t mean to hit you.”

“You’re bleeding,” Emma said. She tried to go to the kitchen to get a towel, but Luke wouldn’t let go of her.

“It’s ok, it’s nothing,” Luke said, wiping the blood from his lip.

“Luke…” Nate began again.

“It’s ok, Nate. It’s nothing,” Luke said, his eyes on Emma the entire time.

“I’ll put on some coffee,” Celia started.

“No, you need to get to bed,” Nate said.

“He’s right. I’ll get the coffee on,” Emma said.

“Come on, Nate. Take me to bed,” Celia said, her eyes on the younger couple.

Nate nodded, but turned to Luke. “Don’t hurt her,” he said.

“I don’t plan on it,” Luke answered.

They stared at each other for some time before Celia’s nudge turned into tugging and Nate and Celia retreated to their bedroom.

Luke turned to Emma.

“I’ll make that coffee.” She dropped her eyes to his hand that was still wrapped around her arm.

He let her go, his expression letting her know he didn’t realize he still held it. Luke followed her to the kitchen and watched while she made an ice pack and handed it to him.

“You look like shit, Luke,” she said.

“I’ve been better,” he said, sitting at the table while she made coffee.

She leaned against the counter and folded her arms across her chest, waiting for him to speak.

“Come here, Emma. Sit down.”

“I don’t understand, Luke. I don’t understand you,” she began, ignoring his request. “I don’t even know what to say.” She shook her head and turned to get two mugs. Filling them with coffee, she brought them to the table and sat down across from him. “What do you want from me?”

It took him a few moments to speak. “I think you’re the bravest person I know, Emma.” He picked up his cup.

She stared at him. What was she supposed to say to that? She picked up her cup and sipped, then set it down. “I’m not brave, Luke. I’m just tired of running away from everything.”

His eyes were rimmed red and the spot Nate had hit was going to leave a nasty mark.

“Me, too,” he said.

“Put the ice pack on your jaw, Luke.”

He picked up the bag and pressed it against his face.

He looked different tonight. He wasn’t the same man she’d seen that night at the party, the self-assured, elegant, English Dom. He was a little more insecure, a little on edge, and unsure. His body language gave it away and as much as she wanted to just take him into her arms, she needed to protect her own heart.

“My mother took me away from my dad when I was ten,” he began, his eyes steady on hers.

She tilted her head, not following.

“To the world, we were the perfect family. My parents looked like the couple who had it all.” He looked just beyond her, his eyes not quite focused. “But we weren’t that behind closed doors. He used to beat her, often in front of me. I never knew any better, I just knew that I was scared of him, that was all. He didn’t start on me until I was ten.”

“Oh God…”

He continued as if he hadn’t heard her speak at all. “My aunt, Evelyn, helped my mom and me to get away from him. We ran away. That was the first time I ran and it’s become a habit that’s stuck, it seems,” he said, his eyes focusing on hers, trying to make the comment lighter than it was. “We took on new identities and lived in hiding for that first year. My mom was always scared, terrified he’d find us and if he did, she knew he’d kill us. Or at least he’d kill her.”

“Luke…” she said.

“That’s why I took the Roark name. I didn’t want to have anything to do with my biological father. Keenan Roark was the only father I cared to remember.”

Emma watched, her hands on her lap. They were shaking too much to hold on to the hot coffee.

“When Evelyn called that night, she was telling me my father was dying. She wanted me to come make peace with him. To forgive him.”

“Luke…”

He put a hand up to stop her. “I went.” He broke eye contact and looked away. He squeezed his eyes shut, then forced his attention back to her. “When I saw him,” now his voice cracked and it took him a moment to continue, “when I saw him, I didn’t remember him. I didn’t feel anything for him, not pity, not hate, surely not love. He was just an old man, a stranger. He cried when he saw me,” he said, meeting her eyes again. “And I didn’t feel a damn thing.”

“Oh, Luke,” she said, rising to her feet and taking the few steps to him. She picked up his hands and he rose to his feet, allowing her to wrap her arms around his shoulders. “It’s ok, Luke,” she said into his chest, pulling his head to her shoulder. “It’s ok.”

His body shook and she held him. This man who was the most powerful man she’d ever met now shuddered in her arms. “It’s ok.”

He pulled back and turned away, running an arm across his face. “Emma, I’ve only ever walked away from everything I’ve known. I’m alone and there’s a reason for that. Louisa and my stepbrothers are the only ones who’ve managed to stick around. I’m not good, Emma. I hurt people, I’m cold, I don’t have the capacity to…”

“Shhh,” she said, this time allowing him to take her in his strong embrace. “Sometimes walking away is our only option,” she said. She turned her face up to his and put her hand on his cheek. “It’s what we have to do to survive. I understand that, Luke. I know it. But you’re here now. And I’m here.”

“You’re the only person to ever make me want to show myself. You were wrong the other night. When you said I didn’t trust you, you were wrong. I do trust you and my feelings for you are different from anything I’ve ever felt and that scares the hell out of me. But I don’t want to run, Emma. I want to stay. With you. I want to stay with you and try, but I’m scared I’m going to hurt you.”

“It’s too late for that, Luke. I can’t change how I feel about you and I can’t walk away.” Tears slipped from her eyes.

He wiped them away with his thumbs. “Emma,” he said, taking her face into his hands and tilting it upward. His mouth closed over hers, kissing her as if for the first time, hungry and full of need.

She twined her fingers into his hair and held him to her, needing him just as he was, hurt and a little broken, but more whole than any man she’d ever known.

Epilogue

Emma checked her watch. Luke would be downstairs in less than ten minutes and she’d just barely have time to dress and apply a little bit of makeup. She zipped up her skinny jeans and slid into a pair of high, sling-back pink pumps. Wearing the quarter cup bra he’d given her during their first weekend together, she slid a silky dark rose-colored blouse over her head. Her nipples stood prominently out and it made her smile. She’d never realized how sensitive they were until she’d met Luke. He could almost make her come just by paying a little extra attention them.

Nate Jr.’s quiet cry cut into the night. Emma smiled. He must have woken from his nap and was likely hungry. He’d come home after spending four weeks in the hospital. Having a baby in her arms and in the house was invigorating and exhausting at the same time. Emma had kept her room with Celia and Nate for another six months, using the fact that she was a live-in babysitter as an excuse to hold her nephew any time Celia put him down. He was a sweet baby who hardly cried and he looked more and more like her brother every day. It was strange to see and although she thought of her own lost baby at first, having Nate Jr. around actually helped her come to terms with what had happened. She even began the slow process of forgiving herself.

“Emma,” Celia called out.

“Be right down,” Emma answered. He was early. It was just like him. Taking her powder case, she brushed some over her face. Only mascara and lip gloss tonight. It was her birthday and he claimed to have special plans for her tonight.

Over the last few months, they’d seen each other almost every day. After that night in the kitchen, there was a whole other level of trust between them and she felt closer to him than she’d ever felt to anyone in her life. She’d started back at school and if she went full time, she’d be finished in less than a year and a half. Luke had been hinting at having her move in with him, but she was scared. She liked things as they were. She felt like she was relaxing for the first time since her parents had died. As much as she was ready for the relationship to go to the next step, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to take the chance that it would go the wrong way.