Emily and the Stranger (29 page)

"I can't believe they arrested him. I'm not going to press charges."

"They're holding him on suspicion of breaking and entering, for the first time your house was vandalized and for—"

"Rod didn't break into my house," Emily said adamantly. "And he didn't hire those teenage boys. Stop and think. Where would Rod get an extra five hundred dollars to pay those young hoodlums? Every spare dime he has he spends on his painting supplies."

Mitch released her arm. "All right. We'll talk to Detective Kenyon, but I'm telling you—"

"Are you coming in with me or not?" She hesitated momentarily, then when Mitch didn't reply, she opened the door and marched in.

Mitch followed her, cursing softly under his
breath.
He tended to agree with her assessment of Rod Simmons. Why would the guy confess to having made the phone calls and written the letters if he'd been responsible for breaking into her home, knowing he could do some hard time for the latter crime? All he'd had to do was keep his mouth shut. There was no way anyone could prove he'd been Emily's secret admirer. No, Mitch figured the young guy had gotten a bad case of guilty conscience and probably had become scared after the second break-in.

"I want to see Detective Kenyon," Emily demanded.

"Ms. Jordan, Detective Kenyon has left for the day. May I help you?" the young policeman behind the desk asked.

"I want Rod Simmons released immediately. I'm not pressing charges against him."

"Yes, ma'am. You made that perfectly clear to Detective Kenyon when you called. But I'm afraid we can't release him. He's being sent over to Bay Minette in the morning. The only way Red Simmons is going to be set free is if somebody posts his bail tomorrow."

"Then if I can't help get him released this evening, may I please see him?"

"Emily, what's the point in that?" Mitch shook his head, knowing he wouldn't be able to prevent her seeing Red if the police agreed.

"Ma'am, why can't you just wait and see him tomorrow?"

"I want to speak to him tonight. Please." Emily looked at the young officer with soft eyes and presented him with her most sincere smile. "I need to assure him that he hasn't anything to worry about."

"All right. But just for a couple of minutes."

* * *

Mitch walked Emily up North Section Sweet, away from the police station, past the
Welcome
Center
and toward the Paint Box.

"Well, are you satisfied now?" he asked, stepping briskly to keep up with her hurried stride. "You saw Rod and reassured him that you'd post his bail tomorrow."

"I think it's ridiculous that they arrested him. He's so obviously innocent." Emily waved at an elderly gentleman sitting on the Renaissance Café balcony.

"Okay," Mitch said. "If Red is obviously innocent, then who is obviously guilty?"

Emily stopped abruptly on the corner. She swallowed hard, then turned and looked up at Mitch. "I'm not sure anyone is obviously guilty, but … I suppose Charles is the most likely suspect. It's just that I don't think he's the type to take such drastic measures."

Mitch grasped Emily's shoulders with gentle force. "Charles Tolbert is in love with you. And believe me I know what drastic measures I'd be willing to take if I thought I could make you mine forever."

"You wouldn't threaten me or try to frighten me the way…" Emily's heartbeat skipped a beat. She reached out and caressed his cheek. "No, you would never harm me in any way. I do believe that."

She pulled away from him and continued her trek up the street. Mitch followed at her side. The minute she opened the door to the Paint Box, she heard Fowler Jordan's authoritarian voice.

"You can't mean to tell me that Emily intends to bail that young hooligan out of jail!"

"She believed him when he said he wasn't behind the break-ins at her house." Nikki glanced toward the door and sighed visibly when she saw Emily and Mitch. She glanced at Fowler and frowned, then she nodded in Charles Tolbert's direction.

"I shall have a talk with Emily and we'll just see—"

"What do you want to talk to me about?" Emily cut her uncle short when she walked into the shop and slammed the door behind her.

Both Charles and Fowler turned sharply, concern on their faces when they looked at Emily. Then simultaneously, they glared at Mitch.

Fowler opened his arms and walked toward Emily. "Nikki tells me that Rod Simmons has been arrested, that he's the one who has been harassing you all these weeks."

Emily went into her uncle's arms, allowing him to hug her. She returned the gesture, then pulled free. Charles hovered nearby. Mitch stayed by the door.

"Rod confessed to having made the phone calls and to having written the letters, but that's all."

"After all he's done, you aren't seriously thinking about paying that boy's bail, are you?" Charles asked.

"It's none of your business what I do," Emily told him. "But if you must know, then yes, I am."

"My dear Emily." Fowler shook his head sadly.

"What are you two doing here anyway?" Emily looked pointedly at her uncle, then focused her stare on his young protégé.

"Well, Charles and I decided this would be a perfect evening to take the
Black Pearl
out for a trip down to the Gulf," Fowler explained. "And I'd hoped you might join us. I had Mrs. McMurphy pack us a picnic dinner before she left this evening."

"You should have called first," Emily said as she glanced over her shoulder at a glowering Mitch. "I have other plans."

"With Hayden?" Charles demanded.

"Yes," Emily said.

"Then bring Mr. Hayden along, my dear." The corners of Fowler's mouth curved into an almost smile.

"Fowler, you can't mean—" Charles said.

"If you're determined to see Mr. Hayden, despite my reservations, then I see no alternative but for me to try to make the best of it." Fowler forced his lips into a wider smile.

"Don't do me any favors,
Jordan
," Mitch said.

"Mitch, if Uncle Fowler is willing to try, then—"

Mitch opened the door and walked out so quickly that the door slammed shut before Emily realized what had happened.

"I'm sorry. I can't go sailing with you and Charles this evening," Emily said. "It was a lovely idea, but I don't think Mitch wants to go. Besides, I heard it might rain."

Without looking back, Emily rushed out the door and down the sidewalk. She caught up with Mitch half a block away, in front of the Fairhope Single Tax Corporation offices.

"Wait, Mitch, please." She grabbed his arm.

He halted, but didn't turn around. "Why aren't you getting ready to go sailing on your uncle's yacht?"

"Because you and I had plans to spend the evening together, and you made it perfectly clear that you didn't want to share me with Uncle Fowler and Charles."

Mitch turned, slowly, hesitantly, and slipped his hand around Emily's neck, drawing her toward him. "I'm sorry I acted the way I did. I had no right to—"

Emily placed her index finger over his lips. "Shhh. You don't have to say another word. I understand that you think Charles might be behind the break-ins and I realize you know Uncle Fowler hates you. I wasn't thinking when I said what I did. I simply reacted to Uncle Fowler's overture."

Mitch tightened his hold on Emily, bringing her closer and closer. He lowered his head; she lifted hers. And their lips met in a hot, ravenous kiss.

Raising his head, Mitch smiled. "Let's get off the street. If we don't, we're going to make a public spectacle of ourselves."

"Let's go home," she said breathlessly, her heart drumming loudly in her ears. "To my house. The repairs are finished and the security system was put in today. We can have a late supper and then sit out on the porch and watch the stars."

There was nothing Mitch wanted more than to "go home" with Emily. Go home with her and stay forever. But unless he could convince her that his feelings for her were real, the kind that lasted a lifetime, there would be no forever for them.

* * *

The rain came in windy torrents, drenching Emily and Mitch when they made a mad dash from her car to the house. He had driven like a maniac down
Mobile Street
, past the Grand Hotel and onto Scenic Highway 98. The heat inside him rose higher and higher with each glance in Emily's direction. All he could think about was making love to her, to laying claim to her body and making her his. But she wasn't his. She might never really belong to him.

Emily punched in the security code, then waited for Mitch to unlock the door. The rain had soaked her pale-pink cotton dress, making it almost transparent. He could see the outline of her body through the sheer material. The curve of her hips. The ripe swell of her breasts, her aureoles visible through her bra, their tips pebble hard. And the dark V at the junction between her legs that beckoned him to explore the hidden riches inside.

Mitch grabbed Emily around the waist, turning her into his arms. She tried to wriggle away from him, but he pulled her close, their wet bodies pressing together.

She looked up into his face and smiled. Mitch eased her back against the wall, nudging his knee between her legs.

Before she could speak, he nibbled at her lips. Sighing, she flung her head back to expose her neck. He kissed the soft, smooth flesh, then licked a zigzag pattern from her chin to the top button on her dress. Emily shivered.

Mitch undid the first button. Emily laid her hands on his chest. He undid the second button. She unbuckled his belt. He undid the third button. She unzipped his jeans. He undid the fourth button. She slid her hand inside his jeans and searched for the opening in his briefs. He unsnapped the front closure of her bra, exposing her breasts to his hungry mouth.

He feasted on her breasts, taking his time with each one. Emily writhed against him. When her hand covered his sex, he moaned deep in his throat, then thrust his hand up and under her dress. She moved her hand back and forth, eliciting another moan from Mitch, as his arousal grew harder and larger.

He jerked her panties down over her legs. When they dropped to her ankles, she kicked them aside. While she caressed him, he eased two fingers up inside her and thought he'd explode on the spot when he found her dripping with need.

The rain blew onto the porch, misting their heated bodies. Mitch lifted Emily, bracing her against the wall, then drove into her, embedding himself fully.

Emily clung to him, whimpering, pleading softly for him to end the torment and give her release. Cupping her hips in his big hands, he set the rhythm for their bodies as they mated on the front porch of Emily's cottage. At twilight. In the middle of a summer rainstorm.

Fast and furious, with a scorching passion, Mitch took her with savage pleasure. In those moments of pure, animalistic sex, she was his, completely. There was no past, no future, only the present.

She cried out her fulfillment. He captured the cry with a tongue-thrusting kiss. And her release triggered his, erupting inside him with earth-shattering spasms.

They clung to each other for several minutes, their breathing labored, their bodies overly sensitive, as fragmented shudders rippled inside them.

"I couldn't wait," he said in a husky voice, a voice still controlled by a desire only momentarily sated. "I didn't mean to take you out here on the porch like this." He pulled her bra together and fumbled with the hook.

Emily grabbed his hands, lifted them to her lips and kissed him. "No one could see us. And don't apologize. Couldn't you tell how badly I wanted you?"

"I could tell. These feelings between us are pretty strong, aren't they? Stronger than anything I've ever known."

She put her arms around him and laid her head on his chest. "I've never felt such a powerful desire."

"More than desire, Emily. Much more than desire." He detected the slight frown forming on her lips and knew she was wondering if she could believe him. What the hell was it going to take to convince her?

"Now I'm the one who's sorry," she said. "I ruined the moment, didn't I? You knew what I was thinking."

"You didn't ruin anything, pretty lady." He kissed the top of her head. "You can't help the way you feel. I understand. It's just that there's nothing I can do to make you believe me… Nothing I can do to make things right between us."

Chapter 17

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S
weat trickled off Mitch's forehead, ran down his face and dripped off his chin. Perspiration dampened his white T-shirt, sticking it to his chest like a soggy glue. He removed his yellow safety helmet, ran his fingers through his wet hair and stood there wishing he had a cold beer.

He had missed half a day's work yesterday taking Emily to Bay Minette to get Rod Simmons out of jail on bond. He'd never known anyone with a heart as big as Emily's. She was the type of woman who would go out of her way to help a stranger. For her friends, she'd do just about anything. And despite what Rod had done, Emily still considered him a friend.