The Color of Love (7 page)

“Sleeping. Probably conserving her strength
to start ordering everyone around the next time she wakes up.”

“I would never say I agree with you, but…”
Emily laughed. “I thought about leaving, only I might be too tired to move.”

Derian wanted to ask her what she’d been
thinking about a moment before. She’d had the strangest expression on her face,
half dreamlike, with a little smile that was sad in a way. But she didn’t know
Emily well enough to ask something quite that personal, and that constraint
irritated her. She must be tired too. She’d never once in her life asked a woman
what she’d been thinking. Had she never really cared enough to know? Aud had
been the only one she’d cared about, and they’d always talked so much she’d
never had to ask. The pain of their separation hit her out of nowhere, and she
shrugged off the past. The past was history, the future merely chance. All that
mattered was now, and she’d been determined to live it to the max since she’d
walked out on what was left of her family. “Well, I’m sorry you’re exhausted,
but very glad you’re still here. I owe you dinner, remember?”

Emily shook her head. “You definitely do not.
And
you’ve
got
to be even more exhausted than me. I’ve only been sitting here all day.”

“Right. Sitting vigil when no one else did.”
Derian held out a hand. “I owe you for that. I owe you for more than that too.
You took care of all the paperwork, didn’t you?”

Emily stood, avoiding Derian’s hand. She
couldn’t keep touching her. It wasn’t appropriate, and besides that, it was
upsetting. She wasn’t used to all the feelings Derian kindled without the least
bit of effort and, undoubtedly, unintentionally. “No, Vonnie helped. I don’t
deserve all the credit.”

Derian nodded. “I’ll call her and thank her
too. But first, food.”

“You’re very stubborn, aren’t you?” The words
were out before she could pull them back. She was usually so much more cautious
when she first met someone, and here she was saying everything that came into
her head. “I didn’t mean—”

Derian laughed. “That’s a mild way of putting
it. Most people might phrase it differently. But yes, once I set my mind on
something, I’m kind of hard to dissuade. What’s your favorite food?”

“Cookies,” Emily said instantly.

Derian laughed again, a deep sound that
rumbled in her chest and seemed to enclose Emily like a warm cloak wrapped
around her shoulders. The image struck her as belonging to someone else. When
had she ever been so frivolous? All the same, she couldn’t help but smile.

“
Besides
dessert,” Derian said.

“Who said it was dessert?” Emily said.

“All right, I’ll admit to an occasional meal
of ice cream myself, but not tonight. What would you like?”

“Almost anything—you choose.”

Derian looked down at herself. “I could use a
shower and a change of clothes. Would it be asking too much for you to stop by
my apartment with me for a quick pit stop? I promise, it won’t be more than
fifteen minutes, and that will give me a chance to call and get reservations.
I’ll have you seated at a table in less than forty-five minutes.”

“You can do that in New York City?”

“Trust me.” Derian grinned and Emily suspected
that grin took her a long way in the world—part charm, part devil, part sex.

And now she had the perfect opportunity to
beg off dinner. She could simply say she was too tired to wait, and too
disheveled herself. But she wasn’t, really. She’d often gone all day at work
and then out to an event in the same clothes, and she really had only been
sitting most of the day. Derian wouldn’t know that, though. Faced with the
perfect opportunity to escape, she had to admit she didn’t want to. She wanted
to go to dinner with Derian Winfield. She wanted to hear her laugh again. She
wanted to do something different, something out of her ordinary routine, and
wasn’t that odd. She could think about all of that later. “I don’t mind a
little wait at all. And you don’t have to rush.”

“I won’t be rushing. I’m used to quick
changes.” Derian picked up Emily’s coat from where she had laid it on the chair
beside her and held it out for her. “Anyone you need to call? Change plans or
anything?”

“No,” Emily said casually as she let Derian
help her on with her coat, something she couldn’t ever remember anyone doing
before. The gesture was unexpected and unexpectedly delightful. “They’ll call
us, right? If there’s any…problem?”

Derian rested her hands for an instant on
Emily’s shoulders after the coat settled onto them. “They have my number. But
it’s going to be all right. It has to be, right?”

Emily leaned against her for the briefest of
seconds. They shared the same affection for Henrietta, and Derian had to be
even more worried. “Of course. Henrietta is probably even more stubborn than
you.”

“You’re absolutely right.” Derian slipped her
hand down to Emily’s elbow, leading her out into the hall. She liked the
contact, the intimacy of that passing touch. “I’m sure I inherited all my bad
traits from her.”

“I actually think it might be catching—the
stubbornness, at least. I’ve gotten a lot more persistent myself, since coming
to work with her.”

Derian reached out to press the button to the
elevator, but the doors opened and she halted abruptly. “Aud!”

A willowy blonde with a stylish Tumi bag
slung over one shoulder launched herself into Derian’s arms. “Dere. I can’t
believe you got here first.”

Emily hastily stepped back, but not before
she registered the unbridled excitement in the blonde’s eyes as she kissed
Derian soundly on the lips.

“Why didn’t you call me when you got in!” Aud
scolded, one precisely etched brow arched in exasperation.

Derian slid an arm around the blonde’s waist,
her expression lighter than Emily had seen since she’d arrived at the hospital.
“I tried. Did you check your voice mail?”

“Actually, no. I just got off a plane an hour
ago and headed straight over here. I wasn’t in the mood for business messages.
Sorry.”

“You never were very good at that anyhow. For
a lawyer, you’re really hard to get a hold of.”

“Self-protection.” The blonde glanced at
Emily and held out her hand. “Sorry for being so rude. I’m Audrey Ames.”

“Emily May, one of Henrietta’s agents.” She
drew back farther. “I should probably go—”

“Aud, Emily is a friend,” Derian said,
tightening her grip on Emily’s elbow so she didn’t bolt the next time the
elevator opened. “Henrietta is stable, and we were about to sneak out for some
dinner.”

“That’s great news,” Aud said. “Do they know
what happened?”

“Looks like her heart. She might need
surgery, but the verdict is open there,” Derian said.

“Oh. I tried to reach your father, but he
wasn’t returning my calls.”

“Not surprising. He’s been here, but I think
he just came by for a sit rep.” Derian’s expression darkened. “You know how
that is.”

Audrey sighed, her expression sympathetic.
“Derian, you’re going to have to make peace someday.”

“I don’t know why,” Derian said lightly,
although her tone held no humor.

“Your head’s as hard as ever, I see.” Audrey
sighed. “I’m going to peek in on HW before I touch base with the family.”

“Right. Have at it. We’ll catch up tomorrow?”

Audrey leaned close and kissed Derian’s
cheek. “Absolutely. You’ll be at the apartment?”

Derian nodded.

Aud sketched a wave and strode away.

“If you’d rather wait for her,” Emily said,
“I completely understand.”

Derian regarded her quizzically. “You seem to
think I’m going to let you break this date with me, but it’s not going to
happen. We’re going to dinner.”

Emily’s lips parted. “I don’t believe we
mentioned anything about a date.”

“All right, I stand corrected.” Derian
grinned. “But we’re still having dinner.”

“As long as we understand each other.”

“For the moment, we’re in agreement.” Derian
held the elevator door open for her. “Dinner. No date.”

The dark sky surprised Emily when they stepped
outside the front entrance of the hospital. She’d known, rationally, she’d lost
the day to anxiety and memories and, most recently, a curiosity she couldn’t
shake about the woman beside her, but the black, cloudless night was still
unexpected. She glanced at her watch to orient herself—almost seven p.m.—and
started toward the line of cabs by the corner. Derian caught her arm, and she
slowed.

“Hold on.” Derian glanced at her phone. “Our
ride will be here in nineteen seconds.”

Emily laughed. “Uber?”

Derian grinned. “I never like standing in the
road waving my arm and hoping a cab will take pity on me.”

“No, I can’t see you wanting to wait on
anyone’s pleasure.” Emily stumbled. And hadn’t that come out in just the worst
possible way? “And please disregard that comment right now.”

“I will, since it’s totally inaccurate.”
Laughing, Derian slid her hand under Emily’s elbow as a black Town Car slid to
the curb. “Here we go.”

To cover her embarrassment, Emily forged
ahead. She’d never had so much trouble making casual conversation in her life.
She didn’t do it often, but she’d never tripped over her own words the way she
seemed to do with Derian.

“Watch your step,” Derian said, her hand tightening
on Emily’s arm. “He managed to park in a puddle the size of the Mediterranean.”

“Thanks.” Emily avoided the small lake as a
tendril of heat snaked down her arm. She still found Derian’s casual
physicality a surprise, and her own sliver of pleasure mysterious. She
certainly didn’t need assistance walking across the sidewalk, but she liked the
way Derian’s body pressed against hers as they moved. The connection was
entirely in her mind, of course. Derian
did
live in Europe, and everyone there touched more, completely casually, and it
didn’t mean anything. At least, so she understood.

She’d just have to learn to ignore the
enjoyable pulse of electricity that accompanied Derian’s touch. And just to be
safe, she slipped her arm free of Derian’s grasp as she slid into the backseat.
Derian followed, and the driver pulled away. The vehicle was comfortably warm,
but despite her fatigue, Emily wasn’t the least bit tired. An unfamiliar energy
suffused her, a sensation she eventually recognized as anticipation. She was
doing something out of the ordinary for her—going to dinner with a
stranger—even if Derian seemed far from that after the last few hours they’d
shared. Beside her, Derian sat relaxed, one arm spread out along the top of the
seat, her hand nearly touching Emily’s shoulder. There was still space between
them, but the inexplicable sense of somehow being connected persisted.

And she was being frivolous. Frivolous,
something she had never been in her entire life. Even when she was much, much
younger and life was much, much simpler, she’d never been frivolous. Pam had
been the adventurer, the athlete, the daredevil. She’d been logical, studious,
goal-directed, private, and driven. She enjoyed things, many things—loved
books, films, long walks on the beach—and had some close friends she could be
silly with. But she also cherished her private time, her private thoughts, and
her private plans for the future. She’d never craved excitement or adventure or
the busy social schedule that her parents loved and she tried to avoid. And
here she was now, having a very out-of-character adventure with a very
attractive woman who interested her in ways no one ever had.

“Where were you?” Emily asked. “Yesterday?”

Derian turned on the seat, studied Emily. The
question, a simple one, didn’t seem simple at all when Emily asked it. Emily
was completely different than the women she usually spent time with. She was
every bit as beautiful, more even, because she didn’t try to be and didn’t seem
to notice that she was. Her beauty wasn’t a tool, or in some cases, a weapon.
Her beauty was simply what beauty should be, a thing unto itself to be enjoyed.

“I’m sorry, was that too personal?”

“Sorry, no,” Derian murmured. She resisted
the impulse to move her hand another four inches and clasp a strand of the
silky, gold-laced hair that rested on Emily’s shoulders. She was used to
touching women, and being touched by them, in all manner of ways—casually,
seductively, in invitation or challenge. She tried never to touch a woman
unthinkingly, considering even the most innocent contact an honor, but just the
slightest of contact with Emily set her system on high alert. Emily stirred
her, a sensation she’d long thought she’d become immune to where women were
concerned. With most things, really. “I’m afraid I was distracted. I was just
thinking you were very beautiful.”

Emily gave a little start, and in the hazy
glow of reflected lights from marquees and streetlights, surprise flashed
across her face.

“I can’t possibly be the first person who’s
told you that,” Derian said.

“Ah…maybe,” Emily said, her tone pensive and
thoughtful. “I think definitely, at least completely out of the blue.”

The image of some woman murmuring compliments
to Emily in an intimate setting jumped into Derian’s head, and she smothered an
irrational surge of annoyance that came dangerously close to feeling like
jealousy. She had neither the right nor the desire to claim anyone’s full
attention, especially not a woman like Emily—who clearly did not play games.

“Well, if you haven’t heard it before, you
should have.” Derian watched Emily register the idea, catalog it, tuck it away.
She saw the small smile of pleasure flicker for an instant, and satisfaction
heated her belly. She liked making her smile. “Monte Carlo.”

“Oh,” Emily said, “that’s right. I read an
article—” She broke off, catching her lower lip between her teeth.

“Really? One of those, huh?” Derian laughed.
Even in the shadowy light she could tell Emily was blushing. And when was the
last time she’d seen that response in a woman? She couldn’t resist the urge to
tease her again just to see her tug at her lip, a very sexy little movement. “I
can categorically state that ninety percent of whatever it said was not true.”