Page 10 of Emma's Element

Emma smiled at his sweet mannerisms. “Fine.”

Marcus shook Jolene’s hand as Emma put her coat on. “I can’t thank you enough for this. You saved my night.”

“Anytime, Cutie. Anytime,” Jolene blushed.

Emma hugged her friend and thanked her as well, promising to call her soon. She knew Jolene would want to hear every detail of her day with the famous actor. As soon as she and Marcus were out on the sidewalk, he paused, turned his face up toward the sky, inhaling deeply. She stopped too and waited for him, amused. He looked down at her, and the chagrin on his face was much too charming. “Sorry. Had to be done. The air is so fresh here. I love it.”

Emma laughed. “I take it LA doesn’t agree with you?”

“It’s a love-hate relationship,” he replied, proceeding to walk. “It loves me, but I hate it. I try to get away as often as I can.”

“Hence the trip to the UP.”

“Yup. Needed nature to recharge me. The outdoors is my happy place,” he admitted.

“Hmm, interesting,” she muttered. She loved being outdoors as well. It was a gift her dad had shared with her. So many memories flitted through her mind, memories of herself and her dad enjoying nature, experiencing the elements.

“What is?”

“You just surprise me,” she answered, pulling herself out of the recollections before they turned morose. The more she learned about Marcus, the more her impression of him changed. Who knew the seemingly glamorous movie star craved nature just as she did?

“Is that good or bad?”

She smiled evasively. “That remains to be seen,” she quipped. She stopped in front of the brick building that housed her apartment. “This is me,” she said.

He looked at the building, then across the street at the view of Lake Michigan, or at least what could be seen in the pitch dark. He smiled. “Perfect.”

“There are four apartments here. I’m on the upper left of the building,” she explained.

“With an epic view,” he stated.

“That it is.” She took her keys out of her pocket then turned to face him. “Thank you for the entirely unnecessary, completely old-fashioned escort home.” she teased.

He took her hand and made a showy bow over it. “My pleasure, M’lady.” Then he placed his lips on the back of her hand in a quick kiss. His thumb swiped over it before he let her go. “See you tomorrow at eight. Sleep well,” he said as he backed down the sidewalk.

“Goodnight,” she croaked, too stunned by his actions to coherently say more. Letting herself in, she went to the front window to watch his progress back up the street to his tank. Smiling, she thought of what had just happened. A little shudder of pleasure went through her remembering the sensation of his lips on her hand. She’d never experienced anything so simple yet so erotic at the same time. She was in so much trouble.

Marcusstoodatthelarge window in the house he was renting, a beer in hand. He stared out at the vast darkness of the lake, a certain Nighthawk on his mind. What was it about her that he couldn’t get out of his head? Seeing her on the wall in those tight little spandex pants had made him forget how to breathe for a moment. He’d nearly swallowed his tongue when she contorted her body until her foot rested on a jug, her knee bent at shoulder level as she reached for a higher hold. Her alluring figure had drawn his eyes; she was stunning.

He’d watched her on the wall, observing in her a skill that was unmatched. He’d never seen anyone climb so effortlessly with such strength and fearlessness. Her balance on the barely-there holds astounded him. She never once hesitated, never floundered. She was magnificent.

He’d felt inadequate during his climbs. And yet, being back on a climbing wall after nearly a year had been exhilarating. If only his shoulder hadn’t begun to ache so badly; he would have loved to continue, to push himself. But he knew he had a long way to go to build his strength back to where it had once been. He looked forward to the challenge.

He took a sip of his beer and rotated his shoulder, the phantom impression of Emma’s hands working the ache out, causing an entirely different type of ache that he staunchly tried to ignore. It stood to reason she would have strong fingers after watching her on the wall. She had dug in and worked her magic. If her hands had felt that good on his shoulder, what would they feel like on other parts of his body? He’d love the chance to find out.

But that would be a mistake. Too complicated. His life was too convoluted. Too arduous to bring a woman like Emma into it. She’d never survive the vultures that circled around him daily.

His phone chimed in his pocket. He took it out and looked at the readout. Speaking of vultures. “Colleen.” Colleen Pike was his publicist and, according to her, very good at her job even if she was pushy and drove him nuts most of the time.

“Hey, Honey, how are you?” she asked. She always called him Honey. He hated it.

“I’m fine, Colleen.”

“Having a good time in the middle of nowhere?” She hated that he had holed himself up in southwest Michigan; they’d argued about it constantly. She needed him out promoting the latest Titan movie. Something he’d spent the last five months doing. He was tired. And she knew it.

“Absolutely. What do you want, Colleen?” He’d learned long ago to limit their conversations, maneuvering her to get to the point quickly, or she’d drone on about nothing.

“All right. I’d like to send a crew out to you. Record the story of what you are doing there. We could capitalize on this. It could be big!”

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