The Color of Love (19 page)

Derian played her thumb over Emily’s
knuckles. “Is that a bad thing?”

“I really don’t know. It’s unique.”

“Good. I’d hate to be ordinary where you’re
concerned.”

“Oh, believe me. You’re anything but that.”

“And to answer your question,” Derian said
with unusual seriousness, “I already know you’re strong and independent and
determined. I also know you’re kind and loyal and generous. All of those things
to me equal substance. You wouldn’t find a steady diet of parties, cocktail
conversation, and the constant striving for greater and greater thrills very
interesting.”

“And is that what your life is like?”

Derian sighed, glancing out the window as
twilight crept across the park, blurring the shadows of pedestrians into
formless shapes. “My life passes by so quickly, I don’t really notice.”

“I imagine a steady diet of excitement and
adventure would be like that,” Emily mused, not sounding critical but more
contemplative. “I think it must be tiring, never to have a moment to reflect.”

“I think that’s exactly the point.”

“And yet you’re here,” Emily said. “You left
all that behind without hesitation. I can tell you’re not happy to be here, but
you came despite that. Out of loyalty and love. To me, that’s substance.”

Derian released Emily’s hand and lifted the
teacup, cradling the small beautiful object of art in her palm. “Staying in the
first place might have been more impressive.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with searching
out the life you want,” Emily said. “I take it you left because that wasn’t
here.”

“I don’t know,” Derian said. “I’m afraid I
was too angry to ask myself if there was anything here I wanted.”

“Well,” Emily said softly, “you’re here now.”

“Yes,” Derian said, savoring the delicate
beauty of the woman across from her. “I am here now.”

Suddenly self-conscious and afraid her
enjoyment of Derian’s attention would be far too obvious, Emily rose to clear
the table. “Why don’t you pour the rest of the wine, and I’ll meet you in the
living room in just a minute.”

Derian rose with her. “Let me help you.”

“Absolutely not.” Emily gave Derian’s
shoulder a playful shove, appreciating the play of muscles beneath her fingers.
“Guest, remember?”

“If you insist.” Derian filled the glasses,
set them on a coffee table opposite an ornate white marble fireplace with a
broad mantel bearing filigreed candlesticks at either end, and settled into a
comfortable floral-patterned overstuffed sofa.

Less than a minute later when Emily sat down,
her scent, light and spicy as a fragrant tea, teased at Derian’s senses. A different
kind of hunger emerged, sharp and demanding. “Thank you for dinner. It was one
of the most enjoyable meals I’ve had in a very long time.”

“I’m glad you liked it.”

“The food was delicious,” Derian said,
placing her wineglass carefully back on the table. She slid closer until the
outside of her thigh touched Emily’s. When Emily didn’t draw away, but just
looked at her with the question in her eyes, Derian framed her face with both
hands. “But it was the company that made it so special.”

This time when she kissed her, it wasn’t
fleeting, and she didn’t ask permission. She didn’t wait to be invited. She’d
wanted to kiss her since she’d walked in the door, and pretending otherwise was
fruitless and self-deluding. Emily’s mouth was soft and sweet and delectable as
the finest wine. When Emily made a small surprised sound of pleasure, Derian’s
heart leapt into her throat. A surge of want so powerful her thighs tightened
shot through her. She slid her hand around to Emily’s nape, soft hair gliding
over the top of her hand, and drew her closer until their bodies touched.
Emily’s breasts pressed into her, firm and compelling.

Emily nibbled at her lip and Derian groaned,
fingers tightening. She slid deeper, exploring the heat and soft secrets of
Emily’s mouth. Emily slid both arms around her shoulders, stroked her back,
explored in a way Derian hadn’t expected. Hands probed her muscles, traced the
ridge of her spine, caressing and delighting her, inflaming her. Derian pressed
closer and Emily leaned back against the pillows, half reclining. Derian braced
herself on an arm over Emily, wanting to cover her, wanting to consume her with
such urgency she had to struggle to be gentle. She kissed the corner of Emily’s
full, yielding mouth, the angle of her jaw, her long graceful neck, the hollow
of her throat. Unable to stop, she unbuttoned the uppermost button of Emily’s
shirt and kissed the soft triangle between her breasts.

“God, I want you.” Her voice was hoarse, an
unfamiliar desperation cutting through it.

“Derian,” Emily murmured, her voice low and
foreign. Her fist tightened in Derian’s hair. “Wait—”

Derian gripped Emily’s shoulders, angled a
leg between hers. The touch of Emily’s body sent heat sweeping through her. She
searched for another button, her mouth on the curve of Emily’s breast. “Emily.
I want to make love to you.”

Emily tugged Derian’s head up and kissed her,
catching Derian’s hand before Derian could clasp her breast. “I’m not—I can’t—”

Derian shuddered and gritted her teeth.
Taking deep, gasping breaths, she forced her head to clear. As soon as she
could manage, she pushed herself up and stared down. “Are you all right?”

Emily didn’t hesitate. “Yes. Of course.”

“You’re very beautiful.” She smiled wryly. “I
can’t help wanting you.”

Emily smiled, color flooding her face. “Thank
you.”

“I should go.” Summoning all her will, Derian
stood, extending her hand to help Emily up. “Thank you for tonight.”

Emily grasped her hand. “Derian, I—”

“No,” Derian said quickly. “You needn’t
explain. I won’t apologize this time, though, especially since I very much want
to do that again.”

“I enjoyed tonight too,” Emily said. “
All
of the night.”

“I’m not a patient person,” Derian warned.

“I’m not worried.” Emily walked her to the
door. “Good night, Derian.”

Emily didn’t say any of the things Derian
expected. She didn’t say she didn’t want to be kissed again. She didn’t say
they should keep their relationship professional. She didn’t say no.

For tonight, that was enough.

“Good night, Emily.”

Still grinning as she reached the street, Derian
strode to the corner, double-checked the street signs, and texted Uber for a
pickup. She typed in her destination and waited. The new service made getting
around so much easier. She didn’t have to think about which direction she
needed to walk to get a cab or explain to a driver where she needed to go, a
sometimes challenging feat when so many cabbies needed help with directions.
When she traveled and didn’t have a driver of her own, she’d found getting
around even in the cities she knew difficult, despite all the tricks she’d
learned over the years to defeat her directional dyslexia. She leaned against a
lamppost, feeling the smile fill her. Emily had definitely kissed her back.
There’d be another time, another kiss. She wanted it, and she wasn’t going to
waste time asking herself why. The answer was simple. Kissing Emily was
exceedingly pleasant.

When their lips touched, her body came to
life, her senses pulsing with forgotten hunger. Emily’s hands moving over her,
the soft sounds she made in her throat, the invitation in her body when they
pressed close was nothing she hadn’t felt before, and absolutely unlike
anything she’d ever experienced. Oh yeah, there would be another kiss.

A black SUV emerged from traffic and pulled over
in front of her. She climbed in and gave her address. When she got back to the
apartment, she poured a glass of port and carried it into the bedroom. It
wasn’t that late, but she was tired and knew she’d sleep. After undressing, she
slipped into bed in the dark. Her mind was at last blessedly quiet and oddly
content. She set the glass aside, pulled up Emily’s number, and hit send.

“Hello?” Emily said softly on the second
ring.

“Did I wake you?”

“No, I was just…”

“Just?”

Emily laughed, a bright, self-conscious
laugh. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Funny,” Derian said, “I was just doing the
same thing.”

“Were you.”

“I was thinking about kissing you again.”

Emily was silent.

“Were you thinking about that too?”

“Derian? What are we do—”

“It’s safe enough. You’re there and I’m here,
right?” Derian laughed. “And really, as much as I feel like I’m in high school
right now, I’m not trying to talk you into phone sex.”

“Really? High school and phone sex?” Emily
exploded with laughter.

“Come on, don’t tell me you’ve never—”

“Absolutely not. I’m not telling you my deep,
darkest secrets.”

Derian smiled. “All right, then I’ll go
first. Janie Mankiewicz.”

“Your first girlfriend?”

“Tennis instructor,” Derian said. “Ten years
my senior, making her the older woman. Also married, and very bored.”

“How old were you?”

“Sixteen when we had the sexy phone
conversations. We never did get much beyond that.”

“All right,” Emily said, “you’ve got my
attention. Who started it?”

Derian laughed. “Well, in hindsight, I think
she might’ve flirted a little bit at first, but I was too busy thinking about
how good her breas—”

“I think I get it,” Emily said archly, a
laugh undercutting her mock criticism.

“Let’s say it was mutual.”

“Fair enough. So which one of you mutually
instigated this scintillating conversation?”

“Hmm…Yeah, that would be a good word for it.”

“Derian,” Emily said warningly, “you’re
stalling.”

“Not at all! I’m building suspense.”

“Consider me suspended.”

“You have an interesting way with words,”
Derian teased. “What are you wearing?”

“None of your business.”

“Okay, I’ll just make it up—let’s see, a
black lacy—”

“A peach tank top and…plain,
boring…underthings.”

“Underthings? Somehow I thought you were in
bed.”

“I am.”

“Then why—”

“The tennis instructor?”

“Oh, right, Janie.” Picturing Emily in a
flimsy tank and panties was a lot more interesting. Her throat was suddenly dry
and she wished for some more port. “So, after one particularly hot, sweaty
afternoon, I came up with some excuse to call her after I’d gotten home and showered.
Somehow, I managed to mention I’d just done that.”

“And?”

“She said something about it being too hot to
wear clothes and maybe I mentioned that I wasn’t, and you know…descriptions
were involved.”

Emily’s voice caught. “I can imagine that
might have been…interesting.”

Derian skimmed her fingertips down her
stomach. The memory of Janie and what had been so exciting at the time was now
merely an amusing memory. Emily’s voice, though, filled her with slow,
simmering pleasure. “If you’d like, I could fill you in on what I’m—”

“I’ve seen you, remember?”

“Oh.” Derian chuckled. “In the hall. I’d
forgotten.”

“I haven’t.”

The breath punched from Derian’s chest and
the heat ratcheted up a couple hundred degrees. “Emily. This could get
serious.”

“We’re not going to have phone sex,” Emily
murmured.

“Why not?” Derian enjoyed playing, and Emily
was a great partner. The low, speculative note in Emily’s voice intrigued her.
But she intended to be touching her, watching her, devouring her, the first
time Emily came with her.

“As much as I find the idea interesting,”
Emily said, “I’m afraid I might miss too much.”

“We wouldn’t want that.” Derian pressed her
hand more firmly against her stomach, enjoying the low steep of arousal in her
belly. Emily kept her on edge, every cell incredibly alive. “I promise to be
sure you don’t miss…anything.”

“Oh, I’m not worrying.”

Derian sighed. “I should let you get some
sleep.”

“You must be tired too.”

“I am, and I think I’m going to be able to
sleep tonight.”

“Good. Thanks for calling.”

“I’m glad you didn’t mind. I wasn’t ready to
let you go.”

“I didn’t mind. Good night, Derian.”

“Good night, Emily.” Derian set the phone
aside and closed her eyes. The lingering arousal, along with the memory of
Emily’s voice, shadowed her into sleep.

*

Derian emerged from the ICU after her ten
thirty visit the next morning to find Emily waiting in the hall. She was
dressed for work, in dark green pants, brown boots, and a slightly lighter
brown soft wool sweater. Derian couldn’t help conjure an image of pale peach
panties, lacy in all the right places. “Hi, I was…ah…about to call you.”

“I knew you’d be here,” Emily said. “Did you
get any sleep at all?”

“I slept fine.” Derian grinned, her mood
lightening by centuries as it always did whenever she saw Emily. The change was
like stepping into sunlight after emerging from a long walk through a cave
filled with winding tunnels, blind ends, and no sense of direction. She shook
off the disconcerting sensation. “Better than fine. How about you?”

Emily grinned. “I had the most interesting
dreams…”

When her voice trailed off and her brows
lifted, Derian laughed. “You know, there’s really a bad girl hiding under that
very good girl exterior.”

“You mean there’s a sexy librarian
somewhere?”

Derian leaned a shoulder against the wall,
moving out of the way of two attendants pushing a hospital bed carrying a
patient with all the usual equipment toward the ICU. When they’d passed, she
nodded. “I think the shy librarian is just a ruse.”

“Really? And what exactly do you think I’m
hiding?”

“Dark, wild passions, hopefully.”

Huffing, Emily shook her head. “I’m afraid
you would be very disappointed.”