Emilie's Christmas Love (16 page)

"And?" Nick asked impatiently, disappointment keening through his passion-filled senses.

"There's a man at the front door," she explained. "Says he's here for you. His name is Randy."

"He works for me," Nick explained briefly. "Which way to the door?" He looked between the two women, one smiling knowingly, and the other trying frantically to make herself presentable.

"This way." Emilie glared at Joda. "I'll show you."

They walked quickly and silently down long, twisting corridors to reach the front foyer. Nick didn't think he could find that path again.

Emilie glanced back to find that they had lost her aunt somewhere along the way. She looked up at Nick before she opened the front door.

"I-uh . . ."

"It's okay," Nick assured her calmly.
Much more calmly than he felt
. His insides were churning and he wasn't sure, but he thought his hands might be shaking. Emilie's face was red, her green eyes still soft with the emotions he'd raised in her. He looked at her hands, clenched before her.
Were they shaking?

"Don't worry about the children." She found a safe, neutral ground. "I'll take care of them."

He wanted to say something about what had happened between them, but there wasn't time, and he didn't know what it would be anyway. "Thanks. I'll be back as soon as I can.

The cold air slapped him in the face, restoring his sense of order and understanding. If Joda hadn't come along, he didn't know if he could’ve stopped. Emilie was a beautiful, passionate woman. He had nothing to offer her in return for the gift that she had seemed willing to give him.

It won’t happen again
. He climbed into the tow truck beside Randy.

"Wreck out on the Interstate," Randy mumbled through a mouthful of tobacco. "Tried to call."

"That's okay," Nick replied, looking at the lights from the big house. The wreck may not have been good luck for the people involved, but it had been for him. It had stopped him from making a terrible mistake.

Emilie waited until she saw the lights of the truck fade down the dark road. She sighed and closed her eyes, resting her head against the door.

"What are you thinking,
petite
?" Joda asked, pinching her ear. "What were you doing in there, hmm? Trying to bribe him for the children?"

"No!" Emilie denied hotly. "I was . . . we were . . . we got caught in the lover's arm chair and one thing led to another. It wasn't planned."

"Of course not!" Joda agreed in a sarcastic tone. "You love him and want to marry him. Like you did David, eh?"

"No!" Emilie denied as easily. "We just got carried away, Aunt Joda. It won't happen again."

"Good thing,
petite
. Both of you could get hurt and that would hurt the children. If you don't love him, don't let him crawl into your pants!"

"I won't," Emilie told her aunt. "I'm going to bed. Alone."

"Sorry that I stopped him from being there with you,
petite
?" Joda called out as she walked away.

"No. That would’ve been a mistake," Emilie said quickly.  

There was silence following her words. She looked around. Her aunt was gone. She switched all but one of the downstairs lights off and went wearily up the stairs to her room.

She undressed slowly, thoughtfully, taking off her skirt. The silk top was buttoned in the wrong holes. She put them both in the hamper and looked at herself in the mirror.

What had he said to her? He'd said that she was beautiful. Like cream on his tongue. She’d watched his dark eyes coming closer to hers, felt that warmth in his hands. Despite everything, she’d succumbed, even though her actions might cause her to lose the children. She hadn’t cared.

For a few minutes, she’d forgotten that she was a cripple and that she was alone. She had forgotten everything but that she was beautiful to him and that she wanted him.  

She pulled on her nightgown, running a brush through her tangled hair, and climbed into bed.

The long black shadows of the trees reached around the house and sighed with the wind that blew down from the mountain.

She'd forgotten why she invited Nick there. Would that affect her chances to prove that she could be a good single parent? She wasn't sure. Would a good single mother have been in that room, letting a man she hardly knew undress her? What if the children had been there, instead of Aunt Joda?

Would Nick think of those things when he understood what she wanted from him?

She didn't know. Worse, at that moment in the parlor, she hadn't cared. She would happy just to be in his arms—as she had been with David.

She'd sworn it wouldn't happen again after her marriage was over. She'd never let the thought of marriage cross her mind because she knew that she wasn't able to hold back her emotions. That was what had driven David away.

Ten years before, fresh from her first year of college, Emilie had met David Carriker. It had been a dream from the beginning. He'd been polite, eager to please her, and on their third date, he'd declared that he loved her.

Her parents had been dead for only a year and she was still trying to cope with their sudden death. Aunt Joda had wisely warned her that it was happening too quickly. All Emilie knew was that someone wonderful loved her. She wanted to be with him forever.

She had watched him wince when he'd first seen her leg. After that, she was careful to hide it from him. She showered him with expensive gifts and said yes when he'd asked her to marry him.

They were married in a simple ceremony. David had said he preferred it that way. Emilie's family was gone. She’d given herself to him with enthusiasm and all the love in her heart.

They were only married two weeks before he told her that she was smothering him and that he had to get out. Emilie found him packing one evening. When he wasn't looking, she saw her best diamond bracelet in his bag.

She'd grown up considerably at that moment. She vowed she would never allow herself to be hurt that way again.

Their lovemaking had been stilted, at best. What should have been a joyous union was a farce. Months later, she found out that he had known who she was and had done what he'd needed to do to get enough money for college and his other necessities. She’d filed for divorce. He’d given it gladly.

David had written to her months later and asked for money. She'd written him a check for a large sum, telling him, in turn, that if he ever wrote to her again, that she would turn it over to her lawyer. He'd never written again.

Aunt Joda had cursed him and told Emilie not to give him anything more. Emilie went back to school in the fall, more wary than ever of any man smiling at her, cold inside where she had once been warm.

What was there about Nick that had made her let her guard down? She stared up at the ceiling.

From the moment she'd met him, she'd felt that pull. Worse, when he’d touched her, she realized that she was in trouble. Tonight had confirmed that fear. She had forgotten everything, including her well-conceived scheme to adopt Amber.

The answer had to be to steel herself against him. She couldn't let herself get into situations where they were alone. He couldn’t touch her that way again. She was weak where he was concerned. She didn't know why she’d been made that way. It was some cruel trick, wanting desperately to be loved, and to love in return.

A small sound, like a patient sigh, caught her attention and she glanced around to see Adam standing next to her bed, looking at her.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Amber had a bad dream," he told her. "I couldn't find Uncle Nick."

Emilie got up quickly and took his hand. It curled trustingly in hers and he rubbed his eyes. "Let's see what we can do for her."

They walked into Amber's room. The little girl was standing in the big crib. She cried and held out her arms to Emilie when she saw her. Emilie's heart knew no defense against that plea. She gathered her up quickly against her.

"Did you have a bad dream,
petite
?" She adopted her aunt's term of endearment without thinking. She kissed the girl's warm forehead and took Adam's hand again as she started walking toward the bathroom.

"She woke me up when I heard her cry," Adam complained.

"I'm sorry. I didn't hear her." Emilie apologized. "It's too bad she can't tell us what she dreamed. We could help her sort through it."

"How would we do that?" Adam sat on the edge of the marble tub while Emilie put Amber down on the gilded make up chair in front of the vanity.

Amber whined a little at the loss of Emilie's nearness, but Emilie shushed her and wet a cloth, smoothing back the dark curls with the cool water.

"We would talk to her about her dream," Emilie explained. "She’d tell us what she dreamed and we’d try to think about why she'd dreamed something that scared her. My parents used to tell me that when you understand your dreams, they aren't as scary. They were always right."

She gave the girl a drink of water then filled the cup again for Adam. Amber was still reluctant to be away from Emilie's arms. Being needed was a powerful part of why Emilie wanted a child, she realized. She knew she would do anything for that feeling.

"I guess you'll just have to come back to bed with me," she told Amber when she picked her up again. Amber smiled and snuggled against her trustingly. "Luckily, I have a big bed."

Adam slid his hand into hers again. "Is it big enough for me too?" He looked up at her.

"I think so." She clasped his hand again in her own. It reminded her of how small he really was, that little hand tucked inside of her own. Not even half the size of her. Yet he had been through so much.

She put them both in her bed and pulled the comforter up to their chins. They looked at her like baby owls, all wide eyes and trusting faces. 

Amber moved against her as soon as she got in bed. She pushed her head against Emilie's arm while her thumb went into her mouth.

"How would you sort through a scary dream if you had one?" Adam asked quietly. 

"Well, I'd tell someone what I dreamed and why it scared me." Emilie listened to Amber's gentle breathing beside her.

"I had a bad dream, too," he confided. "Maybe you could help me sort through it."

Emilie heard the faint plea for understanding in his young voice. It was easier in the dark to admit that you were afraid. 

"Maybe," she confided, careful not to push him for his secrets. "What did you dream?"

"I dreamed that I was lost and it was getting dark. There was a big snowstorm and everything was white. I couldn't tell which way to go. There was a river and it looked frozen, but when I started to cross it, I saw my mom. She was shaking her head, so I stepped back. There was a big dead tree and some rocks that looked like monsters. I knew if I stayed out after dark, the rocks would turn into monsters, but I couldn't get home."

Emilie closed her eyes on the terror she heard in his voice. She wanted to pick him up in her arms too. She knew he wouldn't appreciate that. "Well, let's think about it. Maybe the rocks are really things that you're afraid of, things you're afraid are going to get you."

"Yeah," he replied thoughtfully. "And maybe my mom is there to help me."

"Maybe," Emilie replied. "Maybe she's trying to show you another way to go instead of doing something dangerous that might hurt you."

"Uncle Nick told me that she'd always be there to help me."

"I'm sure she will be." Emilie’s heart ached for him. There should be a contract made between children and their mothers that the child had to grow up before the mother died. Every child deserved to have their mother.

"Did you have bad dreams when you were a kid?" he asked finally.

"All the time. Sometimes, I still have bad dreams.

"Who do you talk to when you have them?"

"Sometimes to Aunt Joda, when I can find her."

"If you have a bad dream, and you can't find her, you can tell me next time," Adam promised her.

"Thank you." She was touched by his sincerity. "And you can always tell me, okay?"

There was no answer. She knew from the sound of his steady breathing that he was asleep. She tiredly closed her own eyes. It had been a long day.

She hadn't considered Adam in the equation, narrowing her vision on adopting Amber. Adam needed someone too.

The idea made her angry at Nick for callously deciding to end what little family the children had remaining to them. What could possibly be motivating him to tear them apart? They seemed to have managed well together so far. Surely his sister, Amber and Adam’s mother, wouldn’t want them to be apart.

There was only one answer for it, Emilie decided, as sleep overtook her. If Nick was going to keep Adam, she would have to personally make sure that the two children saw each other on a regular basis. And if Nick was going to find a family for Adam, then she would take the boy as well as his sister.

She wasn't really prepared for two children. She wasn't sure exactly how that would affect her plans. She didn't care. If Adam was up for adoption, she was going to adopt him too.

If she could convince Nick to give her either of the children.

There couldn't be any more lapses. No more erotic fantasies between them. She had to keep her mind on the children and their future.

She drifted off to sleep with that thought, but the dreams that consumed her were less easy to dictate. She was naked and Nick was kissing her. There was no Aunt Joda to break in and end their sweet interlude.

Outside, Nick waved to Randy as he dropped him off at the side door to the house.

"Hell of a house!" Randy exclaimed, looking up at the big, dark house in the truck's headlights.

"Yeah," Nick agreed noncommittally.

"Emilie Ferrier, huh?" Randy continued. "She a little kinky?"

Nick leveled a quelling glance at him. "She's just letting me and the kids stay here until my house is cleaned out." The tone of his voice told the other man that he didn't want to explain it again.

"Sure." Randy grinned. "Sure. ‘Night, Nick."

"See you tomorrow, Randy." Nick closed the truck door.