Chapter 12
Emma was still simmeringtwo degrees below livid when she and Noah arrived back at Sagrado. Detective Hill and her stupid timeline. She’d been fishing, trying to get Noah to admit something, but what?
Emma dropped her purse onto the table by the door. Hill hadn’t come right out and said it, but the detective thought Noah was involved in the fire somehow, which was insane. Why in the world would Noah have paid someone to start the fire? And he would have had to have arranged it as he’d been quite busy orgasming her to the brink of insanity when the fire had started. And then to have arranged it while he’d been in the home, no less? It made no sense, and Emma didn’t like things that made no sense. Or maybe Hill knew something about Noah that Emma didn’t—
No.
Emma shook off the thought. Noah wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. She knew that without a doubt. More than that, he’d proven to her she could trust him, and since she did trust him, she intended to sort out this mystery.
Emma turned to Noah. “Is there someplace I can make a few phone calls in private?”
“This way.”
After grabbing her cell from her new purse—another gift from Esme—she followed Noah toward the back of the house. She hadn’t been back here, but the place was so big, it’d probably take her six months of visits to see everything.
“Just through here,” he said, pushing open a door, and when Emma stepped into the room, she froze.
Nestled beneath a glass dome that showcased the setting sun, a grand piano commanded the space. She hurried across the room and lowered onto the bench. After setting her phone beside her, she smoothed her fingertips over the keys. Even though they were beneath her hand, she could feel their weight. These weren’t cheap plastic keys; these were ivory.
“Noah, this is stunning.” She danced her fingers over the keys in a quick F minor scale before launching into Winter from Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. Since she didn’t quite have it memorized anymore, she just played through the ad lib to the a tempo. She only botched the thirty-second notes a little. Okay, a lot.
From his position beside the piano, Noah traced the tips of his fingers along her jaw. “Ya know, I always thought I was building Sagrado in honor of Abuelo, this room specifically, but now, I’m pretty sure I was always building it for you.”
Her gaze jumped to his, and her heart played leapfrog behind her sternum. “What?”
He motioned to the sitting area across from them. “If you want, we could get rid of the sofa and chairs and replace them with a desk so that this could double as your home office. Or we could keep the room the way it is and find some other place for your home office.” With a finger to her chin, he tilted her face up and held her gaze steady on him as he touched his lips to hers. “All you have to do is say ‘yes,’ Bomboncita.”
But he didn’t wait for her answer. He simply exited the room, shut the door, and left her in emotional freefall.
Despite what she said about keeping their arrangement temporary for now, she could too easily see herself in this space but not as an office. Like the music room at Isadora’s, this should be a family room. This should be a place where good, happy memories were made, a place where she could share her love of music with the people she loved.
With a family she and Noah made together?
But did she really want that? Honestly, she wasn’t sure. She’d never seen herself as a mother, as that would mean she’d have to trust someone enough to take him as a lover, which was something she’d never been able to do before—until Noah.
She shook herself back to her senses. She’d asked for privacy for a reason, hadn’t she? There were mysteries to solve.
Emma grabbed her cell and dialed a number she knew from memory. The phone rang four times before a familiar voice sounded over the line.
“Hey, Auntie Ems.”
Emma instantly brightened. “Hey there yourself, munchkin. What’s up?”
“I’m about to pack for a sleepover at Trevor’s. Mom said that since I hadn’t annoyed her to high heaven this weekend that she’d let me have a sleepover on a school night! She’s so funny, isn’t she?”
And so was he, a joker to his core, just like his father.
Andi rarely let PJ stay over at someone’s house on a school night unless she had to work. Usually, PJ came to Emma’s when that happened, but given the current situation, that wasn’t possible. Plus, Emma had a sneaking suspicion the fire was the reason Andi needed to work tonight.
“Mom told me about your house,” he said, suddenly too serious for his years. “I’m sorry, Auntie Ems. If you want, I can help you fix it. Mom told me that was a sweet offer but that there was too much damage. So then I said that was sad and that you should come live with us, which I thought would be fun. I mean, I’m super sorry about your house, but it would be awesome if you lived with us. You always tell the greatest stories about Daddy. I especially like the ones about his bearhugs crushing you. They always make me laugh the most.”
This kid!
Emma wished she could reach through the phone and give him a bearhug from his Auntie Ems.
“Oh, they were crushing,” she reassured him. “Probably more so than if an actual bear got his arms around you.”
“Daddy’s hugs probably wouldn’t be as smelly or hairy as a bear’s, though.” Even over the phone, PJ’s sarcasm flowed. Oh yeah, he was so his father’s child. PJ turned serious again. “I’ve been having a lot of dreams lately that Daddy’s all better and teaching me to climb. Mom said they used to climb all the time in the Army. Oh, they would wrestle, too, but that she could always beat him. Do you think Daddy used to let her win?”
“Oh, I doubt that, munchkin. Your daddy was strong, but so is your mom. I know first-hand that she could certainly take him down.”
And she had, figuratively and metaphorically. She’d tamed the man who’d once said he’d never, ever—even if someone put a gun to his head—get married. How ironic was it that a gun to her head was the reason Preston couldn’t have a life with his family?
“But that said,” Emma continued, forcing laughter into her voice, “if it would have made your mom happy, I bet your daddy would have let her win. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to make her happy, and I know that, if it were up to him, he’d do whatever he could to make you happy, too. Did I ever tell you he used to talk to you all the time when you were still in your mom’s tummy?”
“He did?”
“Oh yeah, all the time.” It was a white lie. Preston hadn’t even known of Andi’s pregnancy when he’d been shot, but if it lifted PJ’s spirits, what did it hurt?
By the time Andi came on the line, PJ was laughing again. So mission accomplished.
“Hey, Ems. One more sec, okay,” Andi said before her voice turned muffled, as if she were covering the receiver. “Upstairs, Kid. Your suitcase isn’t going to pack itself.”
“Will you pack it for me, Mom?”
“Fat chance.”
“Pleeeeease, Mom.”
“Save the pleading for someone who loves you, Kid.”
“But you love me,” PJ said defiantly, laughter in his voice.
“Whoever told you that lied.”
“You told me that.”
“What can I say? I lied.”
“Did not!”
“Get over here and say that to my face, Kid.”
He must have “gotten over there” because the next thing Emma heard was a vicious round of laughter erupting over the line. Listening to them was as peaceful as it was painful. Fate had dealt them such a tragic hand, but they still had so much love to share. They still had a family. They had what Emma and Preston’s father had denied them after their mother’s death.
“Hey, again, Ems. Sorry about that. Needed to torture the kid a bit. I mean, I really had no choice. I had to put him in his place.”
“Yeah, all that laughter sounded just terrible.” If Emma ever had kids, she hoped she would be one-tenth as good a mother as Andi. “Given the fact that you usually only send the munchkin to sleepovers on school nights for work-related reasons, I assume you’ve already got a busy night ahead of you.”
“I do, but I’m never too busy for family. What’s up?”
“I was just hoping to pick your brain for a minute.”
“Well, if you want to pick my brain for info that revolves around the asshat who torched your house, just know I’m already on it. Noah’s already called. He wants me to put out some feelers and see if I can’t figure out what the cops are sniffing around about.”
Of course, Noah would go to Andi, too. Emma should have realized that, but she’d been too mad to think straight.
“And,” her sister-in-law continued, “he also wants me to complete your security detail ASAP.”
“My security detail?” Alarm had her sitting straighter on the bench and glancing over her shoulder as if someone might suddenly materialized there. “Why? Are the police releasing Bishop from custody or something?”
“No. At least, not that I’m aware of. Think of this more as a safety measure. When someone dates a man in Noah’s position, precautions need to be taken, because unfortunately, it’s not unheard of for crime organizations to pluck up unsuspecting family members of the wealthy elites and then offer them safely back for a hefty ransom.”
“Oh.” Emma placed a hand over her heart. She’d never considered that. So much about dating a man of Noah’s wealth and prestige was out of her wheelhouse.
“Yeah. Some people are the worst, and Noah wants to make sure you stay safe, especially after learning the police suspected Bishop had been in your house before torching it.”
Emma’s heart slammed against her sternum and then raced into an all-out sprint as if someone had fired the starting pistol for a one-hundred-meter dash. Bishop had been in her place?
A memory tugged at her. Moments before Noah had arrived, she’d heard a sound coming from the back of her house. Had that been Bishop? She’d dismissed it as the girls playing, but this new information painted the experience in a black hue.
“Bishop was in my house? Why didn’t Noah tell me?”
“That’s the working theory, and Noah only found out this morning, just before you, uh, saw that news piece and left to see Preston. But don’t worry about it, Bishop is behind bars, and Noah’s beefed-up security around his place. The thought of losing you spooked him, Ems. I’ve never heard him sound so panicked.”
Emma turned to the door. All you have to do is say ‘yes,’ Bomboncita, he’d said before leaving.
“Andi, how many women has Noah asked to move in with him?”
“Since I’ve worked for Whitlow Tower, that would be a negative on all cohabitations. From what I know, he never brings women back to his place. Well, not before you. Why? Wait! Holy shenanigans, Ems, did Noah ask you to move in with him?”
Holy shenanigans? PJ must still be within earshot.
“Yeah, he did,” Emma answered, “and that stupid little voice in the back of my head keeps trying to convince me he doesn’t really mean it, that he’s just caught up in the newness of our relationship, or that guilt’s driving him because I’m suddenly homeless because of work I was doing for Whitlow Group. But mostly, that everything between us is an illusion.”
“And do you believe this stupid little voice?”
“That’s the thing, Andi. I don’t think I do anymore.”
What wouldhis life be like if he’d have met Emma sooner?
Noah took a sip of the hibiscus water Mamá had made before heading home. Would he and Emma already be living together? Married? Mamá obviously thought so. Why else would she have given Emma the necklace?
Movement out of the corner of his eye had him pushing to his feet. Emma glided into the parlor. A peaceful calm had replaced the anger that had painted harsh lines on her face earlier.
“Did you get done what you needed?” he asked.
“I believe so. At the very least, I talked over something important with a friend.” She twined her arms around his neck. “What about you? You look more settled, too.”
“I am. Just spent some time thinking about you, and it cheered me right up.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Would you like to know the first moment I knew that I wanted you?”
Grinning, she pushed onto her toes so that their lips nearly touched. “More than anything.”
“I was dancing.”
Her eyebrows drew together. “What? We met in your office. I think I would have remembered if you’d been dancing with your cousin.”
“We officially met in my office, yes, but it wasn’t the first time I’d seen you. That happened at the last fundraising gala I hosted. I was on the dance floor with Bridget when I saw you across the room and—”
“Hold up, hold up, hold up.” She closed her eyes and her face scrunched up as if she were looking deep for a memory. “You said the first time you saw me, it felt like you’d been sucker-punched, and you’d literally had her in your arms.”
Sí.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “My reaction to you terrified me, Emma, so I ran, I’m ashamed to say. I’d never had that kind of reaction before, and it scared me. I had to get out of there, or I knew I’d have gone to you. And if I’d have gone to you, I knew my life would never be the same, and it hasn’t been.”
Her lower lips quivered ever-so-slightly, as if she were fighting back an overwhelming onslaught of emotion. Or maybe he was projecting his emotions onto her.
“Do you want to know the moment I started falling for you?” she asked.
He nodded.
“It was that moment in your office when you looked at me and said, ‘Uh, Reynolds, Clark Morgan?’ as if all the words had just fallen out of your head.”
“It was less that they’d fallen out of my head and more like evaporated. I thought you’d walked out of my dreams to torment me in the waking world.”
“And do I still, Noah, torment you?”
“Only every second of every day.” He tapped his lips to hers. “But I’m done fighting it. I want all of you, Emma. I want to know all of you. Like what’s your favorite color? Where’s the one place in the world you want to visit most? Why do you have two pet rats when most women would run screaming from them? I want to know where you see your life in one month, one year, a decade. And most importantly, do you see me there with you?”
A single tear had leaked free when he’d mentioned wanting to know her favorite color, but she didn’t wipe it away.
“Blue.” The word was barely a whisper. “That’s my favorite color. And I’ve always really wanted to visit Ireland, and I have rats because my brother used to love them. Playing with them always makes me think of him. As for the future, I sure hope you’ll still be there in a decade because, heaven help me, I went and fell in love with you, Noah Whitlow.”
Before he had time to fully process her words, she crushed her mouth to his and incinerated every rational thought in his head.
“Take me to bed, Noah,” she said between kisses.
He didn’t know if he tugged her or she pushed him, but by the time they reached his bedroom, they were both breathless. Except for last night, he’d never had a woman in this bed. This was his space. It was for sleeping and nothing more. Sex happened elsewhere. Hotel rooms, club bathrooms, the back of a limo, a lover’s place. Didn’t matter so long as they never, ever invaded his personal space, but with Emma, his personal space was precisely where he wanted her.
“Corazón, eres la mujer de mi vida,” he murmured.
“And you’re the only man in my life.”
Overcome with the beauty of the moment, as well as the significance, he rested his forehead against hers. He was about to become her first lover, and in all the ways that truly mattered, she was about to become his first. He’d had sex before, but it had only ever been about finding physical release or having fun. But not with Emma. She would be the first woman he truly made love to, and he wanted the night to be perfect.
“Don’t move,” he whispered.
When she nodded, he took three steps backward. Since being naked in front of him had been difficult for her last time, he undressed first, putting himself in the more vulnerable situation. Gaze glued to her, he removed his shirt and tossed it at her feet. The softest pink tinged her cheeks, and when he unsnapped his jeans, her eyes widened. He took his time removing his pants and towing off his shoes and socks.
When he was naked, he gave her a long moment to look her fill. Pride had him fighting back a devilish grin. He knew what his body did to women. Good genetics and a dedicated routine with a personal trainer had helped him sculpt a body that had tempted many a woman, but knowing Emma liked what she saw was the ultimate turn-on.
“Your turn,” he said when her gaze found his again.
She disrobed much too slowly for his liking, but she moved at a constant pace—without hesitation. He took that as progress, and when she was naked before him, too, he held a hand toward her.
“Come here, Corazón.”
He’d called her Corazón.
He’d called her his heart.
Emma’s head was a tilt-a-whirl of emotions as Noah pulled her onto the bed. No, pulled was too harsh of a word, but eased was too gentle. Whatever it was, though, urgency spurred it and had her mind spinning.
When they knelt together in the center of the enormous mattress, his erection hard between them, she fought to bring her heart rate back into a non-lethal range. But how did a girl do that with a man like Noah touching her?
She buried her fingers into the satin of his hair and held tight. He was the personification of everything a lifetime of physical and mental abuse had nearly convinced her she didn’t deserve, but here, naked in Noah’s bed, she knew two things for sure: one, she loved Noah Whitlow, and two, she sure as hell deserved love in return.
With a move she never saw coming, he flipped her onto her back, but he didn’t follow her onto the mattress. Kneeling between her splayed thighs, he didn’t speak for a long moment. His gaze roamed her body in a way that had pleasure effervescing through her. Pleasure, she realized with a giddy jolt, and not horror. Just pleasure.
“Corazón, you are positively stunning.”
No, I’m not.
The response was on the tip of her tongue, but she held it back because, when he looked at her the way he did, she absolutely felt stunning. And that was another breakthrough.
“You should see the view from here,” she murmured, running a fingernail along the hard ridges of his abdomen.
“Not as good as mine. Trust me on that.”
She did trust him, and that was another breakthrough. She one hundred percent trusted this man. Maybe forever wasn’t in their future, but whatever this was between them, it was real. She’d take that miracle tonight; tomorrow, she’d wish for a new one.
Better yet, she’d make one.