Page 9 of Forbidden Flames

Dismissing the single ladies, assuming either would be adequate as his wife, he continued to peruse the other guests, wondering who he should speak with first. His mother only invited the best of society to any social gathering, so he supposed he could choose anyone.

How had so many people not had a family to share their Christmas dinner with? Or had they merely accepted his mother’s invitation because she was a powerful bitch and would destroy anyone who rejected her?

That was probably the case. Gerard knew better than to ignore a summons to his mother’s home. Summons sometimes came in the form of an “invitation” to dinner, such as today, or in the form of a phone call “requesting” that he join her for tea.

Those were the worst, he thought. Joining his mother for tea meant that she was going to lecture him about something. He sat through them, enduring her lectures while he waited for each to end. Then he would obediently nod his head and assure her that he would do better, kiss her wrinkled cheek, and walk away. Then he would drive back to his home and get drunk.

Looking around, he ignored the conversations happening around him. No one interesting was here. Today, his mother had invited very appropriate, but very tedious guests. In other words, Gerard decided that he was going to get completely drunk today. It was the only way he could endure these mind-numbing social obligations. Oh, he wouldn’t get too drunk! He glanced over at his mother, hoping he kept his sneer off his face. Gerard knew better than to embarrass the old bird. She’d cut offhis allowance without a second thought if he did anything that even hinted at a scandal.

Glancing over at the two single women again, he tilted his head slightly. They were both blond with straight hair, both wore pearl earrings and a pearl necklace. One wore a pink sweater set while the other wore a rust colored silk blouse. Both women wore brown skirts, although one was silk while the other was a tweedy material.

Still, neither really interested him. Not like Emily!

What was it about Emily that made her so utterly fascinating? Gerard found himself wrestling with the question as if trying to solve an enigmatic puzzle. Was it the allure of the forbidden that drew him to her? She moved through his club—his personal domain, as he liked to think of it—although, in reality, his mother footed the bills and paid the dues. Yet, Emily navigated the space with a certain quiet ownership, as if she wished to become a part of the very walls she slipped past.

She seemed to desire invisibility, and yet, Gerard couldn't help but notice every subtle shift in her presence. He adored her, and every time she entered a room, he felt her impact like an electric current running beneath his skin. The thought of her traversing the secret hallways that led to the hidden recesses of the club set his imagination ablaze.

He envisioned tracking the warmth of her body, each step a clandestine journey through the mysterious corridors. He thought of finding her alone in a closet or in one of the back hallways, forbidden to the club members, but not to him. Gerard imagined Emily giving him a longing, “come hither” glance before she slipped through one of the “staff only” doorways, drawing him into the dangerous, illicit corridors.

Gerard would love to follow her, to slide behind her, and tease her into one of the forbidden closets. He imagined making passionate love to her in one of those dark, hidden enclosures. She’d be on her knees, her sweet lips wrapped around his…!

“Gerard!” a shrill voice broke through his contemplation of a very heady fantasy.

Gerard blinked and looked around. For a stunned moment, Gerard nearly snapped, “What?” but caught himself before the belligerent word escaped. Looking around, he wasn’t sure why everyone was staring at him. His eyes found his mother’s and…damn! What had he missed?

That’s when he realized that his slacks were tented. Gerard quickly grabbed one of the glossy magazines on the table beside his elbow, slapping the papers over his lap.

“I’m sorry, Mother,” he croaked, leaning forward as if he could somehow placate her. “I was thinking about something someone said to me yesterday.” He thought about dropping a name, someone important who was also a member of his club. But the only name that came to mind was, “Emily”.

Chapter 9

“Go go go!” Emily cried out, her hand fisting in the air as they watched the receiver catch the ball, cradle it securely against his side, then pivot and run down the field. Emily’s exuberant voice mixed with Hendrix’s deeper one, as they cheered for the same team.

“Yes!” she yelled, jumping up from the sofa to do a little victory dance.

Hendrix chuckled and leaned back against the sofa cushions. He took a long sip of his beer, watching her with intense male admiration.

When she stopped dancing, there was a rosy glow to her cheeks and she looked…happy. Damn, she was so beautiful! And this was a side of her personality that he hadn’t known about. “I had no idea you were such a fan of football.”

Emily grinned, fisting her hands on her hips as she stared down at him. “I love college football, college basketball, and professional football. I’m not as big of a fan of professional basketball. It doesn’t seem as if they try as hard as the college boys.” She jerked her thumb towards the kitchen. “I’m no longer painfully full from dinner. Is it time for dessert yet?”

“Definitely,” he replied with a soft chuckle, then stuck his hand out.

Emily stared at the hand for a long moment, then she grinned and grabbed his hand.

The man was huge, with muscles rippling up and down his body, but Emily knew that a simple tug was more about leverage than strength. With a grin and a jerk, she pulled Hendrix off the sofa and…right into her arms.

For a long moment, Emily and Hendrix stood there, neither moving. She could feel the heat of his body and his soft breath caress her cheek as he exhaled. She could feel the roughness of his jeans against her thighs and…!

Then he stepped back. “Thanks,” he grumbled, his voice doing that low, husky thing again.

She watched as he walked into the kitchen. Emily stood there for a long moment, not sure what to think. Had that really just happened? Had he stood there, staring down at her, looking like he didn’t want to move?

Breathing in slowly, she turned and followed him into the kitchen and…froze again.

Hendrix was doing the dishes! He had already rinsed off most of the plates and was standing at the sink scrubbing off their dinner dishes!

When he glanced over his shoulder at her, she still couldn’t move.

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