Page 22 of Second to None
“I like that top, Mommy,” Izzy said as Emily stood in front of her bedroom mirror in a state of indecision. She’d already settled on black wool trousers and black velvet flats. The top Izzy preferred was a festive red silk knit with a V neck. What gave it interest were the sleeves, which were pleated red chiffon that fell to her elbows and fluttered with every movement.
“You can wear the ruby necklace Daddy gave you,” Izzy continued. “It will add some sparkle.”
“Okay,” Emily said before she twirled her hair into a bun and held it. “Hair up or down?”
Izzy tilted her head and considered the question. “Down.”
Emily let her hair fall around her shoulders and picked up her brush. “You want to style it?”
Izzy nodded, so Emily sat down on the bed and let her daughter smooth her hair into waves. “Do you want me to French braid your hair?” Emily asked when Izzy was done.
“Can we try it and see how it looks?” Izzy asked.
As Emily tamed Izzy’s curls into a neat braid down the back of her head, she thought how much she loved these girlie moments. That’s why she never allowed anyone to interfere with their Saturdays together. She didn’t mind sharing them, but she wasn’t going to separate herself from her daughter on their one special day.
Izzy inspected the effect of her hairdo with her lime-green dress and royal-blue tights before she nodded. “Could you clip some blue bows down the braid?”
*
At ten minutes till six, Emily straightened the folds of a green-and-red plaid napkin, shifted a water goblet on the poinsettia-embroidered tablecloth, and moved the crystal salt and pepper shakers to the other end of the table.
Windy sat in the archway, watching Emily down her long slender nose.
“Yes, I’m nervous,” Emily murmured to the dog.
“What, Mommy?” Izzy was in the kitchen, inspecting the chocolate pecan pie.
“Just talking to Windy.” She walked over to stroke the dog’s silky fur. “What’s a billionaire genius going to think of our little home?”
The truth was that Emily thought the house looked cozy and welcoming. The Christmas tree stood in the corner of the living room, wearing its shiny ornaments and twinkling multicolored lights. Flames flickered in the marble-manteled fireplace, sending light dancing over the garlands of greenery draped around the doors and brass sconces. The heavy blue velvet curtains were drawn against the dark chill of the winter night. These Victorian town houses were meant for Christmas decorations.
The doorbell rang, making Emily jump.
“Do you want me to answer it?” Izzy shouted from the kitchen.
“I’ll get it,” Emily said. “Why don’t you come in here and keep Windy with you, just until I’ve gotten Mr. Varela’s coat put away?”
Emily signaled the well-trained dog to stay as Izzy scampered into the dining room. Taking a deep breath, she smiled down at her daughter and walked to the narrow front hall. When she checked the video screen, she swallowed hard. Max stood in the circle of light on the front stoop while snowflakes drifted down onto his broad wool-covered shoulders. He held a huge bouquet of flowers and a leather wine tote that was large enough for several bottles. His dark hair gleamed in the warm yellow light cast by the overhead fixture while shadows accented the strong, clean planes of his face. Her blood pulsed a little faster in her veins as she imagined tracing along his jaw with her fingertip. Or her lips.
She yanked open the door to stop her wayward thoughts. “Come in, Max.”
As he stepped inside, his shoulders appeared to span the width of the hallway, filling the small space with his powerful male presence. A gust of outdoor air blew in with him so that snowflakes swirled around his head. He blazed like a force of nature barely contained within her walls.
A vibration burrowed deep inside her as she responded to the pure magnetism he exuded.
He set the wine tote on the floor and separated the flowers, holding out the larger bouquet to her. “For you. Some springtime in the midst of winter.”
It was a spectacular collection of exotic lilies, roses, and flowers she didn’t even recognize, all in brilliant jewel tones. “What a treat! Thank you so much,” she said, inhaling the glorious scent of the lilies.
He held up the smaller version. “For Izzy.”
Her heart did a little flip in her chest. If the man was trying to charm her by being sweet to her daughter, he had succeeded. “She adores bright colors, so you chose exactly the right flowers.”
He laughed, a deep rumble that made her want to bathe in the sound. “You mentioned that she has a strong fashion sense, so I went with bold.”
“Let me take your coat.” She put the flowers gently on the steps that led up to the next floor while he unwound his claret-colored scarf and shrugged out of his overcoat. He wore a pale gray sweater of some fine-knit fiber that her fingers itched to touch, and charcoal-gray trousers that broke over black loafers. He’d pushed the sleeves of his sweater halfway up toward his elbows to reveal the hard curves of well-muscled forearms with a dusting of dark hair. She longed to touch there, too.
When Emily took his heavy coat by the collar, her fingers brushed the silky lining. It still held the heat of his body, and she felt a shiver of pleasure flutter over her skin. She fumbled at the wooden hangers in the coat closet, finally managing to unhook one from the rod.
