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Her beau. Was Hunter courting her?
She’d feel the need to giggle, and then as if a dark cloud passed over the sun, she remembered who she was, who she was running from, and how temporary this entire life was. If Louis found her, she would be dragged back to Galveston and there was a good chance he would even kill her.
So many times she was tempted to tell Hunter the whole story. But then she stopped herself, not wanting her ugly life to intrude on this new, wonderful world she’d built for herself. Perhaps if she pretended the old Emily Smith didn’t exist, then all of this would become real. Maybe she could make a permanent life for herself here in Guthrie. Maybe even never, ever go back to Galveston.
Oh, sure. That’s a wonderful idea. Keep dreaming.
“I would love a stroll in the park. I always hate to see summer come to an end.” For tonight, with the cool evening breeze, and Hunter by her side, she would push all the unpleasantness to the back of her mind. She inhaled deeply of the flowers growing in the front yard of a snug little cottage on Fifth Street, right across from the park.
Once they reached the park, Hunter released her arm, and took her by the hand. They strolled along that way, hand-in-hand, glancing at each other, smiling almost like lovers. How she wished all the dirtiness in her life could be swept away, and all of this could be real.
Not that she was interested in anything permanent. She’d had enough of counting on men. But it would be pleasant if she stayed here to see Hunter on a regular basis. They could be friends.
They stopped near a tree. Hunter pushed the brim of his hat back and leaned one broad shoulder against the trunk. Taking both of her hands in his he said, “Emily, do you trust me?”
Oh God.
“Why?” She offered him a faint smile, about all she could come up with. He looked at her with such concern in his eyes she almost wept.
He pushed a curl behind her ear that had come loose from her bun. “Tell me what kind of trouble you are in.”
Her mouth dried up and she licked her lips. “What do you mean?”
He drew her into his arms so she leaned against him, her breasts resting against him, her forearms on his chest.
“Honey, I worked for years in law enforcement. Now, I’m not saying I think you’re in trouble with the law, but something else is there. Something you’re very afraid of, but won’t tell me.”
She stared into his hazel eyes, so clear, so pure, just like him. His honest face, the way he’d been raised, how he chose to rid the world of criminals, was so far removed from what she’d left behind.
How could she tell him the disgrace of her life? How she stupidly married the man who had swooped into her life after her parents’ death, promising to take care of her. You’d think I’d have learned years ago the only one I can trust to take care of me, is me. But she was so shocked by her parents’ unexpected passing that she’d once again let her guard down and relied on another person to take care of her.
Where were the words to tell him of the ugliness she lived with? The beatings, the spying on friends, the cheating Louis did that she turned a blind eye to. And worst of all, the abuse she’d taken in the bedroom, the humiliating things Louis had forced her to do.
No, this was all temporary, this reprieve she had. Either she would have to pack up and leave in a hurry one day if she suspected Louis was on her trail, or he would find her and destroy everything.
“There isn’t anything. I’m fine.” The heat started at her toes and climbed all the way to her face. She tried feebly to push herself way from him, but he tugged her closer.
“I know we haven’t known each other very long, but trust me, you can tell me anything. I promise. Anything at all. I want to help you.”
Trust. She almost laughed as the tears came unbidden.
“Trust me, baby, Daddy will recover. We’ll be right back on top in no time.”
She’d trusted her father to take care of her, but he gambled on a bad investment, plunging the family into financial ruin, causing her mother to retreat into depression for years. Only after he’d recovered his finances by spending all his time working did her mother rise from her bed. Too late to be a true mother to her.
Her throat just about closed up and her eyes flooded with tears. She shook her head, unable to speak.
“Please?” His hands slid up her back to her shoulders, and then cupped her face. “Tell me what’s wrong. I want to help you.”
Emily took a deep breath. “Nothing. There isn’t anything wrong.” She inwardly cursed the tears that dropped from her eyes, belying everything she’d said.
“Ah, sweetheart, I know you’re lying.” He used his thumbs to wipe away her tears. As he studied her face, he slowly bent his head until their lips touched. Softly. He nibbled at first, then angled her head so his tongue could trace the fullness of her lips. Giving a slight growl, he hungrily covered her mouth. With his tongue he nudged her lips until she opened and he swept in like a conqueror in a siege.
Emily hung onto his arms, tightened with muscles like iron. He moved his hand down her back to her waist and tugged her closer, flush against the evidence of his desire. She attempted to hold herself back, but the kiss took its toll, and she soon found herself melting in his arms. Louis’s kisses—when he offered them—had been brutal and controlling. Another way to show her that he only thought of her as his possession.
Hunter teased, licked, nibbled . . . made love to her mouth. Her legs grew rubbery, and her heart beat so strongly, she feared it would jump out of her mouth if the kiss ever stopped. Never in her life had she felt so flushed, so anxious for something that eluded her.
In Hunter’s arms, would she find it?
