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Of course I want her. That's never been the issue.
Her lips tighten, as if she's smiling against my mouth. Then she severs the kiss. "Call me when you get to your hotel, okay?"
I nod.
She lets her body slide down mine, withdrawing her arms only when her toes touch the ground. "Have a safe trip, baby. I'll miss you."
With a grunt, I yank the car door open and toss my suitcase into the backseat. Once I've settled into the passenger seat, Tavish steers the Mercedes down the drive.
And I…turn around to wave my fingers at Emery in a hesitant gesture.
She blows me a kiss.
I stare at her until the trees obscure my view.
*****
I miss my wife. Running away from her hasn't changed anything. I want to go home, but I can't do that. This business trip had been my idea, and rushing back to my wife will only prove that I used work as an excuse to escape her. Sticking to my plans is the only reasonable solution. But I don't want to stay in Paris for one minute longer.
Without Emery, I feel…adrift.
My need for her is my greatest weakness, and I must harden myself to her so that when she leaves me, I won't be ruined forever. As much as the distance hurts, I need to show my wife I can survive time away from her. Calling her three times a day—morning, lunchtime, and evening—serves proof that I'm fine without her. It's not desperation. My tactic makes perfect sense.
To a moron. Emery has stolen my common sense along with my self-control.
We talk about nothing of importance, and though she tries to engage me in teasing conversation, my lighter side has been swallowed by the darkness ever since we returned from Skye. Even Emery has trouble thinking of things to say, so we chat to each other as if we're acquaintances, not a married couple. Emery tells me all about her visit with Calli, Aidan's wife, who's teaching her about library cataloging. I have no idea what that is, but my wife seems to think it's fascinating.
Well, at least she isn't miserable without me. Maybe that means she accepts that I don't love her.
She also tells me how Lachlan begged for her help with his computer. Aye, that's no surprise. Lachlan never has had much technological acumen. I know more than he does, but I'm no expert either. Other members of my extended family ask for Emery's help too. Even my clients contact her.
"They act like I'm Steve Jobs," Emery says one evening. "I could make a career out of resuscitating hard drives in the western Highlands."
"Is that what you want?"
"Not sure. Finding your true calling in life is harder than it sounds."
"You'll figure it out. You're intelligent and determined." I try for a teasing tone when I add, "Stubborn, some might say."
"Says the pigheaded Scot."
"Taking my stubborn wife is my favorite pastime."
Aye, our phone conversations often turn into flirtation, though we usually change the topic as soon as that happens.
"Wanna have phone sex?" my wife asks.
I've just taken a sip of water and end up spluttering. "What did you say?"
"Oh, I think you heard me just fine."
"While I appreciate the offer, I prefer the real thing. Besides, I'm not the sort to…do that."
"You're exactly the sort." Her tone turns sensual. "You are an exciting, adventurous man."
"Emery, you are the only person on earth who would call me adventurous."
"Nobody else knows you like I do."
