Be Mine(8)

He hesitated, but she was a good researcher, too, and by the time the fortune cookies arrived, Emily knew everything about his past. They had a lot in common. They both agreed, for instance, that Walt Disney should have been shot, instead of Old Yeller, because they’d both been traumatized by the movie. They’d both been president of their senior class in high school. They’d both been at the head of their classes at business school. They both truly enjoyed their jobs. They’d both had disastrous relationships in the past. They were both determined to have a better one, perhaps a permanent one, in their future.

Emily forgot his high-handedness and was happy again. He was so sweet, so bright, so kind, so vulnerable, so obviously dazzled by her. So sexy, she thought.

So right for me.

So when he took her home, she invited him in.

She closed the door behind them and turned, and he kissed her. He moved slow enough to give her time to say no if she wanted to, fast enough to give her the feeling of being swept off her feet.

Nice timing, she thought as his lips touched hers. Then she stopped thinking.

He hadn’t spent all his nights studying to be the Budget Hun. His lips were firm on hers, moving against hers, and she felt the warmth he always generated start again. She kissed him back, sliding her arms around his neck. She opened her lips and touched his with her tongue, and he slid his tongue into her mouth, tangling with hers, stroking inside her. The heat was everywhere in her now, and she clutched at him, leaning into him. He brought his hand up to the back of her head, lacing his fingers into her long dark hair to hold her close.

When he moved his hand down again, her hair became tangled in his sleeve buttons.

She felt it first as a tug and broke the kiss.

“Richard,” Emily said, and he said huskily, “I know,” and found her mouth again. He moved his hand down her body and she felt the hard pull against her hair.

“No, Richard! Wait! My hair...” She dropped her head back to ease the pull on her scalp.

He bent to kiss her exposed neck, moving kisses down into her cleavage. He also moved his hand to her rear end.

“Ouch! Richard, stop it!”

“What?” he asked huskily, his hand moving across her rear. Her head swayed with his hand. It really hurt.

“My hair.” She held on to it, trying to take the pressure off her scalp. “You—”

“You have beautiful hair.” He lifted his hand to run his fingers through it and the pull stopped.

“Thank God.” She let her head drop forward as the pull eased, tears in her eyes from the pain.

“You’re crying,” he said softly, touched.

“My hair’s caught on your sleeve.”

“You’re so beautiful.” He bent to kiss her again.

“Dammit, Richard, my hair’s caught on your sleeve!” Emily yelled.

“What?”

She pulled away from him, holding on to his arm so he wouldn’t jerk her hair out. A lock of her hair was wound around his sleeve button.

“Don’t move.” She blinked back the tears of pain. “This really hurts.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He gently untangled her.

“I did!”

The mood wasn’t broken, it was shattered. It took every ounce of self-control she had not to murder him where he stood.

“It’s probably better if you go now,” Emily said, backing away as Richard moved to hold her again. “I’ve got to be at work tomorrow. I’m meeting with advertising on the package design and you know those ad guys... Somebody’s got to watch them every minute.” She’d moved to the door as she spoke, and she opened it now. “I had a lovely evening.”

“How’s your head?” Richard looked disappointed and rueful and faintly annoyed.

She rubbed her scalp where the tug had done the most damage. “I’ll take an aspirin. It’ll be fine.”

“Let’s try again.” He smiled down at her. “Come out with me again.”

Emily closed her eyes. “Why don’t we talk about it later?” Her head really did hurt. Go away, she thought. I told you I needed an aspirin. Go away so I can take one.

“How about Friday night?”

“Richard. You don’t listen. I told you my head hurt. I told you I needed an aspirin. I told you we’d talk about it later.”

“Saturday?”

“Never.” Her voice rose almost to a shriek. “Never again. Not until you learn to listen. Take classes. Get a hearing aid. But get out of my life until you can hear me when I speak.” She pushed him out the door and slammed it in his face.

I don’t believe this, she fumed. How can one sweet, charming, intelligent, sexy, good-looking guy be such a lousy listener? God, my head hurts.

I am never going near him again, she thought as she turned away from the door. Not even if someone ties him down and forces him to listen to me. Never, ever again.





CHAPTER THREE



JANE’S REACTION WAS predictable.

“I don’t see what’s so funny about this.” Emily frowned as she watched Jane laughing hysterically in the chair in front of her.

“Tell me the part again where he patted your rear,” Jane gasped. “The part where your head bobbed up and down with his arm.”

“You’re disgusting.” Emily sat down at her desk and tried to ignore her.

“I’d have paid money to see that.”

“It hurt.”

“Poor baby. So when are you seeing him again?”

“Never. I threw him out.”

Jane stopped laughing. “Are you nuts? It was an accident. He didn’t do it on purpose.”

“He doesn’t listen to me.” Emily’s teeth clenched as she thought about him.

“Well, you don’t listen to me, and I’m sticking with you,” Jane pointed out.

Emily looked up, outraged. “I listen to you.”

“Good. Then my advice is, go out with him again.”

“No.”

“See, you don’t listen.”

“Jane...”

“All right, all right.” Jane got up to go. “How is this going to affect your working relationship?”

“What working relationship? He doesn’t listen there, either.”

Jane shook her head. “You’re making a big mistake. Aside from this one little flaw—”

“Little flaw?”

“—this guy is perfect for you. And you’re going to let him get away.” Jane shook her head again as she went back to her desk. “Big mistake.”

* * *

“I’M REALLY SORRY, Emily,” Richard said when she went to his office to check on some cost figures.

“Richard, it’s not important.” Emily sat and reached for the papers she needed. “It could have happened to anyone.”

“Anyone else would have listened.” He looked down at her, regret palpable in his eyes. He looked big and broad and solid and dependable and sexy. Also crazy about her, and devastated that she was unhappy with him.

Emily closed her eyes. She could feel herself weakening. No, she thought, and opened her eyes.

“I don’t think we should date, Richard. I’m just not comfortable with the idea of working together and dating.”

“Emily—”

“Listen to me,” she said, and he flushed.

“You’re right.” He sat down. “About the listening, not about the dating. But if that’s the way you feel, I’ll listen.”

“Thank you. Now about the estimates...” She found the figures she needed and then left before he could do something to wreck her defenses. It was a close call.

During the next week, Richard found several pretexts to call private meetings with her, but she either sent him memos or brought Jane with her, much to Jane’s disgust. Eventually he got the hint, and for the next three weeks, she didn’t see him at all. She missed his sweetness and the breathless heat she fell into whenever he was close, but she didn’t miss his bossiness at all. She didn’t have a chance to; he bombarded her with memos that needed answers, forms that needed filling out and reports that needed filing yesterday. Ninety percent of the work, she thought, was unnecessary.

Emily took his last report request out to Jane.

“This is ridiculous. He has all these figures. If he sends anything else, send it back. Who does he think he is?”

Jane took the report. “I don’t want to tell you this, but he wants you in his office.”

“What did he say? ‘Have her washed and sent to my tent’?”

“Karen just said he wanted you in his office ASAP.”

“This stops now,” Emily snapped and turned on her heel toward the elevators.