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Emma slowed as she approached the space she’d been assigned. According to the map, her booth was on this corner. Instead of finding a blank slate, awaiting her personality and vision, the space contained a rather odd collection of sculptures depicting ugly old women in period clothing. On closer inspection, she saw they were made of small beads. While the detail impressed her, Emma couldn’t quite get past the unattractive forms.
“Isn’t this where you’re supposed to be?” Nathan frowned as he surveyed what the area contained.
“Yes.”
Her earlier excitement faded. Although she wanted the prime location, she couldn’t bring herself to ask the artist to move his displays at this late hour. Disappointment seized her.
“Then he needs to move.” Coiled energy radiated from Nathan.
She stepped between Nathan and the space she’d been assigned. “It’s late. I don’t want to be a bother.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. This is your booth. It’s a great location. You should have it.” His hard, gray gaze moved over her features and lingered on her worried frown. “Let me help you.”
She closed her eyes to better resist his cajoling. “You’ve already done so much.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It is.” Her eyes flashed open. “I could get far too used to this.”
“Then get used to it.”
“I can’t let myself. It’s not who I am any longer. Not who I want to be.”
Nathan wrapped her in a strong embrace, his breath warm against her temple as he sighed. “There’s no reason you can’t be independent and let me take care of you at the same time.”
“Really? Because nothing you’ve done these past couple weeks has shown me that’s true.” She pushed against the unyielding wall of his chest. “Maybe if you stopped telling me what to do, I might let you take care of me a little.”
Her tart speech had no effect on Nathan whatsoever. He held her until her muscles loosened and she sagged against him. She liked letting him be her knight in shining armor. After a lifetime of being pampered, asserting her independence was hard work. Especially when she had a determined man tempting her to take it easy, to let her be spoiled.
But she’d be doing both of them a disservice if she meekly accepted what he offered and let him think it was enough to satisfy her.
“How about if I back off a little?” He pushed her to arm’s length, his expression set into solemn lines. “Will that make you happy?” When she nodded, his grin flashed, smug and wicked. “Good. Now let me deal with this guy.”
So much for him backing off.
He strode into the space, aiming straight at a young man with gel-spiked, short hair. “Excuse me. I think you’ve set up in the wrong spot. This space belongs to her.”
The man shrugged. “She’s late. I didn’t think she was coming so I moved in.” He turned his shoulder toward Nathan, clearly making the mistake of underestimating the tall, muscled man in faded jeans and casual white oxford shirt. “She can have my booth.” He gestured to the empty space ten feet away.
“She doesn’t want your space,” Nathan said, his low voice firm, but polite. “She wants the booth she was assigned. This one.”
“But I’m already set up here.”
“But you don’t belong here.” Nathan pointed. “You belong there. Now, we’re going out for dinner, and when we return, I expect that you will have vacated this booth.”
He smiled, a slow, dangerous baring of teeth, and stepped toward the younger man. Although Nathan didn’t make a single threatening movement, the other man’s eyes widened, and he licked his lips nervously.
“Are we clear?”
“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
With a satisfied nod, Nathan pivoted on his heel and strode away, catching Emma’s hand as he went. She turned to accompany him, knowing he would tow her along in his wake if she hesitated.
“What makes you think he’ll move?” she demanded, her heart going all gooey at Nathan’s demonstration of power and confidence.
He loosened his grip and slid his palm against hers, meshing their fingers. The warm, intimate clasp made her pulse dance.
The hard expression on his face melted into amusement as he glanced down at her. “He’ll move.”
She laughed breathlessly, warmed by the humor swirling in his eyes. “You can be very intimidating when you set your mind to it.”
“Shall we stop by the show coordinator’s table and point his transgression out to them?” he asked.
“Sure, maybe he’ll move faster. Now that we’re here I want to get everything set up.”
