Emily and the Stranger (21 page)

"I want back in your life under any circumstances." Mitch walked up behind her, only inches separating their bodies.

"It would be too easy to say yes, please come back, please take care of me, please love me." Emily gasped when Mitch draped his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest, her hips against his erection. "But I can't. I'm too confused about my feelings, and I think you're confused, too. What you're feeling for me now is pity."

"I know what I feel, and it isn't pity."

"Then it's guilt," she said, resisting the urge to lean against him, to accept whatever he was offering.

"Dammit, Emily, it's not guilt and it's not pity." He whirled her around in his arms, forcing her to face him. "Yes, I feel guilty as hell. I'll always carry around a heavy burden of guilt. And yes, I'm consumed with regret about what happened to you. But, pretty lady, what I feel for you is desire. It's pure old-fashioned lust. I want you more than I've ever wanted anything or anyone in my life."

Emily bit her bottom lip in an effort to keep from crying. She wanted to believe him. "Oh, Mitch, please. The situation between us is so complicated."

"It could be simple. We could make it simple. You and I and a night alone together."

He drew her into his arms, lowering his head as she gazed up at him, transfixed by his demanding stare, hypnotized by the depth of emotion she saw in his eyes.

His lips took hers with sweet, tender fury. Demanding, pleading and yet so very careful not to take more than she was willing to give.

Emily responded, surrendering herself to the kiss, to the way Mitch made her feel. She slipped her arms around his neck, drawing him closer.

He thrust his tongue inside her mouth. She returned the urgency of his invasion. The kiss deepened, growing hotter and more intense, until they had to break apart, gasping for air.

"Dear God, Emily, give me another chance. Just tell me what I have to do."

Emily's chest rose and fell with her labored breaths. She wanted to reach out, to touch his face, to tell him that she loved him and that nothing else mattered. Stuart didn't matter. The baby didn't matter. Her scarred back didn't matter. But she couldn't. Because Stuart and their child and the scars on her back did matter.

"I can't." She took a deep breath. "I want to, but I can't."

She ran from him. Left the balcony. Into
Neptune
's lounge. Mitch walked over to the edge of the balcony and looked down. Any other man might jump and put an end to his misery, but not Mitch Hayden. Whatever agony he experienced, he deserved. Maybe he hadn't paid dearly enough for his sins yet. But how could he ever make atonement to Emily if she was too afraid of her own feelings to name his penance?

* * *

Emily didn't see Charles Tolbert until she bumped into him. He grasped her by the shoulders.

"Is something wrong, Emily? Are you running from someone?" Charles asked.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened her hair. "Just running from myself."

"Well, I was hoping I could talk you into a dance."

"I'd like that."

Charles could be sweet, even charming, at times. And he was always available. Being with him tonight might help her keep Mitch at bay. She didn't dare risk being alone with Mitch again.

Emily danced several times with Charles as well as Rod and Zed. She and Charles shared a dessert plate and she even persuaded him to taste some champagne. And Hardy Winston sought her out again, to remind her that he expected her to send her Hannah book directly to him and he'd see the right editor took a look at it.

From time to time, she would feel someone's eyes on her and catch a glimpse of Mitch across the crowded room. He was watching her—wanting her—needing her. She couldn't—wouldn't—allow herself to succumb to the hunger she saw in his eyes or the desire she felt as intensely as he did.

* * *

Mitch had watched her from afar all night while she danced with, ate with and smiled at Charles Tolbert. Little by little the jealousy gnawed away at him until he didn't think he could bear the sick anger that welled up inside him. And then just when he'd decided to leave, he had seen Emily, Nikki and Rod enter the elevator with Tolbert. He'd caught up with them on the main floor, and stood silently by while the foursome got in Tolbert's Mercedes and drove away.

And now Mitch stood on the beach, as close to Emily's cottage as he could get without being on her porch. He could make out two silhouettes in Emily's open front door. When Tolbert kissed Emily, Mitch thought he'd die. It didn't matter to him that it had been a quick kiss, not much more than a brushing of lips. Emily was his. He didn't want any other man touching her.

* * *

"Thank you for escorting me to Zed's party," Emily said.

"You're quite welcome. I always enjoy being with you," Charles told her. "I'd like to take you out again very soon. It would please me very much. Perhaps we could invite Fowler to join us for the symphony."

"Yes, that would be nice."

"I'll call you tomorrow, then." He lifted her hand to his lips. "I
believe we could be very happy together, Emily. We have
so much in common. Similar backgrounds and upbringings."

"Good night, Charles." Emily eased her hand out of his.

"Good night, my dearest. 'Parting is such sweet sorrow.'"

Emily tensed when Charles quoted Shakespeare to her. She shouldn't have been surprised; she knew that he had a fondness for classical literature. But she couldn't help thinking about how her mystery man had quoted poetry to her. Was Charles the person who had sent the letters and made the phone calls? Had he been the one who had cautioned her against Mitch? Was he capable of breaking into her home and wreaking such havoc?

* * *

Alone in the shadows, Mitch waited for Charles Tolbert to back his Mercedes out of Emily's driveway. Then he bounded up on the porch, knocked at the front door and waited, wondering if Emily would talk to him or slam the door in his face.

She opened the door. Her eyes widened. Her mouth rounded into a silent gasp.

"Don't get involved with Tolbert just to spite me."

"I am not getting involved with Charles to spite you." Stiffening her spine, Emily squared her shoulders and glared at Mitch. "You must think I'm a total fool just because of what happened with you."

"Emily, I don't think you're—"

"I'm going to continue seeing Charles and my reasons have nothing to do with you," Emily lied.

"I don't believe you," Mitch said.

Emily gripped the doorknob, preparing to close the door. "Go away, Mitch. Please, leave me alone."

When she tried to close the door, Mitch blocked her move with his shoulder, insinuating himself a couple of inches over the threshold. "Be careful, honey. I'm not sure you can trust Charles Tolbert. He might be—"

"If I can't trust Charles, then who can I trust? Uncle Fowler? Nikki? Maybe Zed Banning?"

"You can trust me."

Emily stared incredulously at him. "How can you say that, after what happened between us? You lied to me. You hid your true identity from me."

He was so close, too close. Releasing the doorknob, Emily took a step backward. She needed to put some space between her body and Mitch's.

He reached out and touched a stray tendril of her dark hair. Their eyes met and held, ice blue pleading with warm cinnamon.

"You can trust me with your life," he said, curling her hair around his finger. "There are no lies between us now, no more secrets. I've told you that I'd do anything for you, but you have to believe me. Believe me enough to trust me, to give me a chance to prove myself."

She wanted to believe him, wanted to trust him. In her heart of hearts, Emily knew that she loved Mitch Hayden, despite his past, despite everything that stood between them. "I believe you mean what you say."

He took a step closer to her. Her heart beat rapidly, as a warm flush spread over her body. Releasing her hair, he skimmed the side of her face with the back of his hand.

"I'm only a phone call away," he said. "If you need me, for anything, all you have to do is ask."

He didn't want to leave her, but he knew he must. She wasn't ready for anything else, not even a good-night kiss. If he kissed her, he wouldn't be able to leave, and it would be wrong to take advantage of Emily when she was still so uncertain about her feelings.

"Good night, pretty lady."

Before he could change his mind and beg her to come home with him, Mitch turned and walked away, feeling so alone, yet keeping close to his heart the fact that Emily had said she believed him. Surely there was a way to prove himself to her, to show her that he'd do anything to make her happy.

Chapter 12

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E
mily stood on the porch watching the sunset, breathing in the unique aroma the sea, absorbing the beauty of the red sky, the glistening ivory sand and the blue-gray waters of the bay at day's end.

She had just come home from an early dinner date with Charles, their fifth in the three weeks since the night of Zed's party. She cared too much for Charles, as a friend, to let their relationship go any further. She didn't love him and she never would. She had decided that after tonight, she wouldn't see him again. He'd made it abundantly clear that he loved her and wanted to marry her. And they both knew their union would please Uncle Fowler.

But it had been unfair of her to continue seeing Charles, leading him on, when she was in love with another man. The man next door. The man she hadn't spoken to in twenty-one days. Was he out there somewhere, on the beach? Inside his cottage? Was he watching her?

She glanced back inside her open front door at Charles, who was deep in conversation on the telephone. He had apologized to her for having to make a business call, and she had assured him it was quite all right.

Emily sat down in one of the big wicker rockers, leaned her head backward and closed her eyes. What was she going to do about her life? She couldn't allow things to continue the way they were now. She felt positive about her decision to explain to Charles why there was no point in their seeing each other again.

Deciding what to do about Mitch Hayden wasn't so easy. Could she ever forget the past? Was there any way she could look at Mitch and not remember that he was M. R. Hayden?

Mitch had made some big mistakes in his life. The biggest had been trusting the wrong people. Even though Mitch hadn't done anything illegal or underhanded himself, he'd been duped into allowing his partner to construct unsafe buildings. Emily could understand Mitch's desire to get rich quick. He'd come from the depths of poverty and scratched his way to the top. Unfortunately, he hadn't paid close enough attention to what was going on around him.

She didn't doubt that Mitch had suffered greatly in the past five years. Losing his business, his reputation and his fiancée in one fell swoop had nearly destroyed him. But it had been in the years since the trial, since Styles and Hayden Construction had gone into bankruptcy, that Mitch had paid for his sins.

Zed had told her how Mitch had become little more than a bum on the streets, drinking too much, getting into too many fistfights in seedy dives, daring God to strike him dead with every action he took.

And Emily didn't doubt Mitch's sincerity when he had said he'd do anything in the world for her.

So what did she want from Mitch Hayden? She wanted him to love her the way she loved him. She wanted him to marry her and give her a child. She wanted him to make love to her and not see the scars on her back.

She was sure that if she asked all this of him, he would give it to her. But she could never ask. She would never know if his actions came from real love or only from his own guilt and a deep sense of pity.

"Sorry that took so long." Charles came outside onto the porch and sat down beside Emily in a matching wicker rocker. "You look very pensive, dear. Is something wrong?"

"Yes and no." She turned to him and smiled. "I've enjoyed our dating again…"

"I hear a 'but' coming." Reaching across the arms of their chairs, he took her hand in his. "Have I said or done something wrong?"

"No." She shook her head. "You've been a perfect gentleman, and perhaps, under different circumstances…" Emily pulled her hand out of his grasp. "I can't see you again, Charles. I'm sorry, but I've been wrong to let you think that there could ever be more than friendship between us."

"I see." Leaning back in the rocker, Charles bent his knee, crossing one leg over the other. "Would this decision to end our relationship have anything to do with Mitchell Hayden?"

"I really don't think that's any of your business."

Charles uncrossed his legs and stood, tall and elegant in his tailored suit, linen shirt and silk tie. "Hayden's a bit rough around the edges for a lady like you, Emily. According to Fowler, money and success didn't turn him into a gentleman when he was at the top of his game, and now that he's nothing more than a construction worker, he's even cruder than ever."

"I don't want to discuss Mitch with you."