The Night Before Christian (8 page)

Cleaning was what Emory
did when she was stressed, and the visit from Amelia St. Claire the day before
had stressed her plenty. But something told her Jordyn would have preferred to have
been anywhere but inside Emory’s walk-in closet, helping to sort through the
clutter. Maybe it was the frequent heavy sighs, or the constant trips to the
bathroom that lasted fifteen minutes.

Jordyn tossed her head
back in frustration. “Can we please take a break?”

“The pizza should be
here shortly. We’ll break then.”

Jordyn blew out another
heavy sigh, not bothering to mask her boredom. “Okay.”

“You’re the one who
volunteered to help me, remember?”

“Yes, I did. I just didn’t
think you’d take your Christian frustrations out for four consecutive hours. On
a Saturday night, nonetheless,” she whispered.

Emory laughed. “No
one’s thinking about Christian St. Claire. I was fine before he strolled into
my shop, and I’m fine now.” Though, that was hardly the case. “Pass me that
sandal. I think I just saw the match in that pile over there.”

Jordyn passed Emory a
black, strappy shoe. “He loves you, you know?”

Emory stared at Jordyn
a moment, then shook off the sting of her words. Christian didn’t love her. He
loved the woman he was about to marry. Lifting a purse, she said, “Do you want
this
Louis Vuitton
bag? It’s practically new.”

Jordyn pushed the bag
away. “That’s not a Louis, that’s a Stuey. Anyway, did you hear what I said?”

Emory ignored her. “I
think I have the wallet to match around here somewhere.” She sorted through
another pile.

“Emory?”

“Where did I put that
wallet?”

“Emory! Stop!”

Emory hurled a bedroom
slipper she’d fished from a pile. “What, Jordyn? What do you want me to do? Admit
that I love him, too? I do. I love him like I’ve never loved any man.”
Lingering tears stung her eyes. “Do you want me to admit that his getting
married hurts me to my core? It does, because I should be the one he’s pledging
forever to. But I screwed up.” She exhaled. “I screwed up. Instead of standing
up for the man I loved, I walked away from him. His grandmother was right. I
didn’t deserve him then, and I don’t deserve him now.”

“His grandmother?”

A tear slid down
Emory’s face. Dragging her hand across her cheek, she said, “I lied. I lied to
Christian. I lied to you. I lied to myself.”

“Lied? What does that
mean?”

“It means the only
reason I broke up with Christian was because of his grandmother. She’d said…”
Emory closed her eyes, swallowed hard, and recited the words Amelia St. Claire
had spoken to her. “She’d said her grandson was accustomed to having the best of
everything. Including women. That I may be a good lay, but that’s all I’d ever
be to him. ‘
He’s a St. Claire. St. Claire men don’t marry beneath them
.
When
he’s done getting what he wants from you, he’ll dump you like garbage
.’”

The words still packed
as much punch now as they had when they were first said to her. Emory decided
to spare Jordyn the details of how Mrs. St. Claire had used their mother’s
diagnoses against her. When the pain from the memory passed, Emory opened her
eyes. Tears ran down Jordyn’s face, and a great deal of compassion shone in her
eyes.

“You never told me,” Jordyn
said.

“I never told anyone. I…
I just wanted to forget.”

“Why did it matter what
she
thought? Christian loved you, Em.”

“I know he did. But he
had dreams, Jordyn. Big dreams. Dreams that required money. His grandmother
threatened to cut him completely off. And I have no doubt the vengeful woman would
have. She’d promised he would regret the day he ever met me. I couldn’t… I
couldn’t allow that to happen.”

Jordyn slapped at her tears.
“You tell him. You tell him now what that…that…
ooo
! I’m so pissed.”

“I can’t.”

Jordyn’s face
contorted. “You can’t? Why the hell not?”

The doorbell chimed,
drawing both their attentions.

“The pizza’s here,”
Emory said, eager to end the conversation.

“I’ll be right back,”
Jordyn said, fanning her eyes. “This conversation is
not
over.”

But Emory needed it to
be. Instead of debating, she nodded and returned to tackling the disarray
around her.

After fifteen minutes
had passed and no Jordyn, Emory figured she’d escaped to the bathroom again. “Jordyn?”

No answer.

“Jordyn?” she called
out again, this time with a bit more authority.

“Jordyn left.”

The sound of the
masculine voice startled Emory. She gasped at the sight of Christian filling
the doorway. His presence made her nervous and caused her heart to pump
overtime. Coming to her feet, she said, “Wh—” The words stuck in her throat.

“What am I doing here?”

She nodded.

“I needed to talk to
you.”

So many emotions washed
over her. Christian’s presence was like a breath of fresh air, but it also made
it hard to breath. She couldn’t continue this way. “You shouldn’t be here,
Christian.” Tempted to ask him about his trip to Dubai, she resisted. That
would mean she had to explain how she knew he’d traveled there.

“This is where I want
to be,” he said.

Stepping over scarves,
purses, and shoes, she brushed past him. “I can’t do this.”

His brows furrowed. “Do
what?”

“
This
. Me
pretending I can be your friend. I can’t. I am in love with you. I’ve always
been in love with you. And because of that love, I’m a sinking, Christian.
Every minute we’re together, I plunge deeper and deeper. I’m drowning.” Tears
stung her eyes. “I can’t do this. It’s not fair to you. It’s not fair to me.
It’s not fair to Yasmin.”

“You’re right,” he
said.

Christian took a step
toward her, but she warned him off. “No. Go, Christian. Leave, please. Marry
Yasmin. Have a house full of babies. You deserve to be happy.”

He ignored her plea,
moving test-your-will close to her. Cradling her face between his hands, he
said, “You’re right again. I do deserve to be happy.
You
make me happy.
No other woman can do what you do for me. No other woman.”

Everything moved in
slow motion, or it could have been the speed of light. She wasn’t sure. The
second his lips touched hers, her mind went numb. He kissed her cautiously at
first. Exploring, teasing, filling her with desire.

It wasn’t long before
his passion grew, both their passions grew. The heat of his mouth sparked a flame
that ignited her entire body. She melted a little more with each stroke of his
tongue. He offered so much and she unapologetically accepted it all. Greed drew
her closer to him. Hunger kept her there.

It’d been two years
since she’d been kissed like this. Two years since she’d been kissed by him.
Both at once were overwhelming, but she’d weather the devastation to her system
if it meant enjoying this a second longer. Christian snaked his fingers up the
back of her neck and entangled them in her hair. Holding her head in place, he
deepened their kiss.

She wanted him unlike
anything she’d ever wanted before. Her heart cried out to him, her body cried
out for him. Her soul simply cried because it knew this had to end.

“This is wrong,
Christian,” she said against their joined mouths. “This is so wrong. You belong
to someone else.”

“I belong to you. I’ve
always belonged to you.”

His words tore through
her fog of desire. Resting her hand against his chest, she pushed away from his
spellbinding mouth. Her lips ached from the intensity of their kiss. “What are you
saying?”

Christian dragged a
finger down the side of her face. “I’m saying I couldn’t marry another woman
when I’m completely and absolutely in love with you. I’m saying I’d risk my own
life—in the deepest waters—to save you from drowning. I’m saying let me to be
your
life
preserver.”

He searched her eyes as
if attempting to gauge how his words had affected her. Oh, they’d affected her.
So much so that she wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. “You ended your
engagement?”

“Yes.”

For some reason, panic set
in and she backed away from him on shaky legs.

Christian reached out
and hooked her around the waist. “Oh, no, you don’t. Don’t run from me now.”
Nestling her against his chest, he said, “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

How pissed Yasmin
must be
. Of course, she only said it in her head. Out loud, she said, “You
said you loved her.”

“I’m sorry. I said what
I had to say to be able to walk away from you that night. If I would have
stayed, I would have made love to you in a thousand different ways.”

She chortled. “I think
I would have had some say so about that.” She wiggled out of his embrace. “How
do I know you’re not saying what you need to say now?”

“I’ve never played with
your feelings, Emory. I won’t start now?”

What in the hell had he
believed he’d done a few nights ago? “You shouldn’t have cancelled your
wedding, Christian. Especially because of me.”

“I didn’t do it for
you, Em. I did it for me. For the first time in a long time, I’m crystal clear
about what I want. And I want you. No one else.”

“And you’re a St.
Claire, which means you always get what you want, right?” She regretted the
words the minute they’d slipped past her lips. Why was she allowing his
grandmother’s venom to poison her thoughts about Christian? She knew the man in
front of her, better than most. And he was sincere.

Christian’s brow
furrowed. “Where did that come from?”

When his cell phone
rang, Emory breathed a sigh of relief. “You should take that.”

He shook his head.
“There’s nothing more important than this moment.” He rested large hands on
either side of her neck. “You love me and I damn sure love you. Nothing else
matters. I don’t care about what happened in the past. I just know I want you
in my present and my future.”

“You say you don’t
care, but—”

He rested his thumb
over her lips, then dipped close to her mouth. “I can’t lose you again. I won’t
lose you again.”

He captured her mouth,
kissing her like a man deprived. His strong arms held her close. Her nipples
beaded, the space between her legs throbbed. Her need grew to hunger that
craved to be nourished.

Christian abandoned their
kiss, but apparently had a change of heart because he recaptured her mouth. He
grunted and freed himself again. “Get dressed,” he said.

Get dressed
?
She’d kinda hoped for the opposite. Get
undressed
. He’d ignited her. The
least he could do was extinguish the blaze. “Where are we going?”

“We’ve only been apart
two years. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”

Two years equivalent to
a lifetime. She raked her brain in an attempt to decipher what in the heck he
was talking about. “I’m lost,” she admitted.

“How could you forget
our Christmas tradition? I’m hurt.”

Understanding kicked in
and she grinned. “The sleigh ride.” Which was actually a horse-drawn carriage
fashioned to resemble a sleigh. Sentiment flooded her. “
You
remember?”

When they were
together, trotting through downtown had always been one of the things she
looked forward to most during Christmas. Wrapped in his warm arms and not a
care in the world.

“Of course I remember.
You’re embedded in me, woman.” He pecked her gently. “Plus, I have to get you
in the Christmas spirit.”

She liked that notion. A
smile crept across her face. “Give me ten minutes.”

***

The second Christian
landed back in North Carolina he’d given his driver Emory’s address. Once
they’d arrived, Christian had given him instructions to wait because he wasn’t
sure how things would play out between him and Emory. He’d hoped for the best.
He glanced over at Emory. And he’d gotten it.

Splaying his fingers,
Emory rested her hand in his. After a short drive, they arrived at a private
airstrip. The expression on Emory’s face was priceless—a mix of delight and
confusion.

“What is going on, Christian?”

“A new beginning, a new
tradition. Well, kind of a new tradition. Sorta a twist on the old one.”

Emory laughed. “Quit
talking in riddles.”

“A sleigh ride in
Central Park.”

Her mouth gaped, then a
wide smile touched her lips. But a beat later, she frowned. “New York? I can’t
go to New York, Christian. My mother—”

“Is in good hands. I’ve
worked it all out with Jordyn.”

Her brows crinkled. “Jordyn?
When?”

“At your place. Right
after she threatened to cut my balls off and feed them to me if I continued to
toy with your heart.”

Emory slapped her hand
over her mouth and muffled a laugh.

“I deserved that,” he
said. “Your sister doesn’t bite her tongue. But I like the way she protects
you.”

When the driver opened
the door, Christian saw a glint of hesitation in her eyes. “Your mother will be
fine.”

“It’s not that.” She
paused. “The pizza man. We left before he came. I’ll never be able to order
from there again.”

Christian laughed.
“We’ll call from the air and tell them something urgent came up.”

Emory inhaled and
exhaled slowly. “New York?” She bit at the corner of her lip. “Okay.”

The flight took a
little over an hour. Once they landed, they took a cab to the Horse-drawn
Carriage Company in Central Park South.

“Our chariot—er,
sleigh—awaits,” said Christian, extending his hand toward a black, white, and
red partially covered carriage. The horse—all white with a red pom-pom atop its
head, and bells draped around its neck—was gorgeous.