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Her perfume reminded him of springtime. He loved the season for all the possibilities it offered. The opportunity to build on past successes. A chance to grow in new directions. To take new risks.
Risks. In business. But not in his personal life.
Struck by the contrast, Nathan broke off the kiss. When it came to his heart, he shared his brothers’ aversion to risk. It was the one way he didn’t take after his father. Brandon had been bold in business and in love.
Memories surfaced. His father sitting on the worn couch in their tiny house, Marissa’s feet in his lap. Marissa and Brandon washing dishes. Him kissing her neck. And laughter. Always laughter. His parents had been happy together, Nathan now realized. Devoted to each other. It wasn’t being in love with his father that had made his mother unhappy. It had been their time apart that had hurt her. Funny how anger and resentment had tarnished his recollections of that.
Cupping Emma’s face in his hands, he set his forehead against hers. “We’re here.”
“What time is it?”
“Close to nine. How long will it take you to set up?”
“A couple hours, I think.”
“Are you hungry? We missed dinner. We could go grab something before getting started. You should probably keep your strength up.”
“I’m too keyed up to eat. Maybe later, after we’re done we could catch a late, late dinner.” The hand that had been playing in his hair dropped to her lap. “Thanks for driving and letting me sleep.”
“After almost a three-hour nap you probably won’t feel much like sleeping tonight,” he said, kissing her brusquely on the forehead and setting her away from him. “I, on the other hand, feel like I could sleep for a week.”
He caught the clear confusion on her face. The tender kiss they’d shared made him feel vulnerable in a way he’d never known with a woman. New insights into his parents’ relationship made him question what he’d told Emma he wanted from her. He wasn’t used to doubting his decisions. He wasn’t used to feeling off balance.
He was no longer convinced that marrying without love was a good idea.
He just wasn’t sure marrying for love was.
Nine
Emma half trotted to keep up with Nathan’s long stride. She shot a glance at his profile, her chest tightening at the thoughtful frown pulling his brows together. He seemed miles away, and with longing tight and sharp beneath her skin, Emma felt all too present. What had just happened in the van?
Waking to the tenderness in his kiss had been her undoing. The memory of it yanked at her heart. His passion she could dismiss as lust and not let it into her soul, but gentleness—she had no protection against that.
In those seconds before he broke off the kiss, the last of her defenses crumbled to dust. Had Nathan noticed? Is that why he’d stopped kissing her? Did he realize that she’d lost the will to deny him? That he’d gotten her right where he wanted her?
She’d been working so hard this last week to keep her emotions separate from the incredible sex. It was getting harder and harder to resist the pull of longing that had nothing to do with how great he was in bed. She was hip-deep in trouble and sinking fast. Soon she’d enjoy being there.
Emma’s hands clenched into fists, but there was no fighting the push and pull of excitement and anxiety that slid through her. She had to make enough money this weekend to escape the trap her father had laid for her. If Nathan was going to own her heart, she wanted to make sure he had to work for it. The only way to get on even footing with him was to take her father’s meddling off the table. Being trussed up like a Christmas turkey and served to Nathan on a silver platter would put her at a distinct disadvantage.
Nathan was a silent, compelling presence beside her as she checked in with the show coordinator. With his help, she found her number on the poster board that displayed the layout of the show.
“I’ve got a great booth,” she told Nathan, her finger on the square she would occupy for the next three days. “Look. It’s on the main aisle and right in the middle of all the action.”
Her enthusiasm must have been contagious because he grinned. “Let’s go see it.”
They struck out across the exhibition hall. Already most of the booths had been set up. An assortment of glass, pottery, metalwork, textiles, jewelry and wall art in a variety of mediums created a jumble of color and texture in the huge space. She’d been juried into this show and she knew the other artists here had been selected for their fine work as well. This was her first foray into the world of one-of-a-kind art, and her emotions overlaid one another, a hodgepodge of excitement and apprehension. So much rode on how she did here this weekend.
