Page 42 of Emma's Element

Valiantly trying to move past his anger, he pulled Emma closer to him, her scent flooding his senses. Strawberry and vanilla. He loved her strawberries. Clasping her right hand in his left, he leaned closer to the ear exposed by the clip holding her hair back. “Just follow me. Match my moves. Feel how my body moves against yours.” She looked up at him, trepidation in her eyes. Then he began to move in slow, small steps. She matched him easily, as he’d known she would. She looked down to follow his feet. He reached up with his left hand and tilted her chin up to meet his gaze.

“Look in my eyes and just feel the steps.” Those beautiful doe eyes stared at him nervously. “You can’t mess up with me,” he assured her. He rocked her a few times, then did a quick spin. She smiled and laughed out loud. He had her then. His Emma. Cool and confident. The Emma who haunted his dreams. He spun with her a few more times as the music allowed. Her laughter, in and of itself, was a musical wonder.

Knowing he’d brought that delight out felt damn good and sent his blood racing south. Her laugh . . . It was like that scene in theWizard of Ozwhen Dorothy opens the door, and everything is suddenly in technicolor. He felt surrounded by color, and it started with her. After living in a gloomy, gray world for the last seven months, the radiant hues she unleashed nearly blinded him. He sought to stay in her technicolor beauty but knew he had to return to LA to finish his contract. His monochromatic life threatened to cloak his joy. He ruthlessly pushed it aside, focusing on Emma and her melodic laugh. As the last strains of the song ended, he dipped her slowly, thoroughly appreciating the view of her cleavage in the deep vee of her gown.

When he brought her upright again, he held her hand close to his chest, over his heart. He wasn’t ready to let her go. She placed her cheek on his shoulder, and he rested his against her temple. They held each other like that, swaying slightly to the music of a new song.

“God, I’ve missed you.” Her head moved against his shoulder as she nodded, but she didn’t say anything. Her breath hitched. “Emma?” He tilted her face up to his again, and the tears there made his heart twist.

“I’m sorry, Marcus.” She pulled herself out of his arms. “I can’t.” She turned to leave, but Marcus caught her hand, stopping her.

“Wait, please.” He pulled out the little envelope with his spare key card in it. “Please. Take this. Meet me here. Just to talk,” he rushed to assure her. He didn’t want her to think he was giving her his room key for more than that. “There are some things I need to tell you. Will you meet me? Please,” he begged. She nodded and fled.

Chapter fourteen

Blindedbytears,Emmastumbled out of the ballroom, making her way to the bank of elevators. There she stood, her thoughts in turmoil as she stared at her shadow in the reflective doors. She had to get out of there, away from Marcus, before she lost herself in him. Nothing had changed. He was still a world-famous actor, and she was still a small-town girl. He had millions of adoring fans; she had maybe a dozen people she could count as friends, which was a dozen more than she had after the rescue boat accident.

Why did he have to be so incredibly handsome? And sweet? And . . . cheese and crackers . . . the way he looked at her. He made her feel beautiful. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Why did it have to come from the unattainable man? There was something between them; she’d felt it the first time she’d laid eyes on him. His gaze on hers had been electric, sending shock waves clear down to her core. But it was no use pining for a man who was out of reach. Regret was a lancing pain in her chest.

A sob lodged in her throat; she clenched her hands to help curb the emotions. The hard edge of something dug into her palm, she glanced down. Still clutched in her hand was the keycard Marcus had pressed on her. She had no idea what to do with it. She wanted to use it more than she wanted her next climb, to have one night with him. But what then? What happens after?

Turning back to the elevators, Emma hit the call button, her thoughts still in turmoil. She still had no answers about what to do with the keycard in her hand.

Emma made her way to the hotel room she was sharing with Jolene, exhaustion and sadness weighing heavily on her. She stuck her key card in the lock only to have the door pulled open from the inside. Jolene stood there blocking her way into the room, appearing nervous.

“Can . . . can you go stay with Maddie tonight?” she asked Emma.

“What?”

“I . . . umm . . .” Jolene, at a loss for words, that was new. Then it dawned on Emma, Jolene was with a man and wanted privacy. She smiled.

“Can I at least get my stuff first?” Emma asked with a smirk. Jolene smiled and wheeled Emma’s suitcase out the door to her. “Ha!” Emma exclaimed, taking the handle of her suitcase. “You were that sure I’d agree to this?”

“That’s because you love me,” Jolene answered, with a hug.

Emma winked at her. “Have fun!” Jolene waved before shutting the door on Emma.

Sighing, Emma wheeled her suitcase down the hall to the vestibule where the elevators were located. She sat in one of the armchairs there, wondering what to do next. She loved Maddie, but she didn’t want company tonight. She could see if the hotel had any more rooms available, but she thought she remembered they were booked, which is why she and Jolene were sharing a room to begin with. She could leave here and find a different hotel. Or she could rent a car and just head home. But each idea that came to her sounded more and more exhausting.

Her only other recourse came with myriad other problems. Marcus. She looked down at the key card still grasped in her hand, knowing he wouldn’t turn her away. She stood and called for the elevator. After punching the button for the top floor, she was wracked with indecision. She couldn’t stay with Marcus, especially with her emotions so close to the surface. She should just stay with Maddie. That would be the easiest. Less heartache. But she yearned to spend more time with Marcus. Just his presence steadied her.

No, she couldn’t do this. But before she could do anything to change the direction of the elevator, the doors opened, and there he was, candy bar in hand, having just hit up the vending machine. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. “Emma?”

She stepped off the elevator, rolling her suitcase behind her. “Jolene kicked me out.”

His mouth fell open, and he blinked slowly as if he was having trouble processing what she’d said. “Why?” She arched a brow as if to say, why do you think. He laughed. “Oh. Finch?” Everyone assumed Jolene and Finch had a thing for each other, but they’d never acted on it. At least until tonight.

“She didn’t say.”

“Well, come on,” he said, grabbing her suitcase. “You can stay in the spare room in my suite.” She nodded and followed him down the hall.

Curious about the candy bar in his hand and desperate for something to talk about, she asked, “Isn’t there a minibar in your suite?”

His confused glance met hers. “Yes. Why?” She gestured to the candy bar in his hand. He smiled. “The minibar didn’t have peanut butter cups.”

Emma made a face. “Eww. Peanut butter.”

“You don’t like peanut butter?” he asked. “I thought everyone liked peanut butter.”

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