Listed: Volume V (2 page)

She
just couldn’t leave Paul grieving when she died.

She
leaned back against the seat of the car and twisted her engagement ring over
her wedding band on her finger nervously.

“Emily?”
Paul asked, his voice sounding different—more like his normal protective
concern than the strained way he’d sounded most of the day today. “What is it?”

She
shook her head, forcing back the brewing fear. Paul was just a passionate man.
He’d always been that way, even though he tried to hide it. His behavior
probably didn’t mean what she sometimes thought it might mean.

“We
should do something fun today,” she said brightly, successfully pushing back
her anxious thoughts. “What do you want to do?”

“I’m
up for anything. What do you want to do?”

Emily
shook her head with a half-smile. “Don’t give me that. It doesn’t always have
to be about me. You should choose today. What would be fun for
you
?”

Put
on the spot, Paul looked momentarily perplexed.  Then he gave her a grin that
was almost predatory. “Since you’ve asked…”

“Uh
oh.” Emily shifted in the seat, suddenly sure he was going to take ruthless
advantage of her insistence on doing what he wanted.

He
chuckled. “We should go out tonight. Dinner, dancing, something like that.”

She
brightened. “That sounds fun.”

“So
we should find you a new dress to wear.”

She
gasped, suddenly realizing where this was going. “I don’t need a new dress. I have
that beautiful dress you got me in New York!”

“I
think you’ll need another one for tonight,” he said, with ostensible
nonchalance, although a tiny corner of his mouth was twitching just slightly.

She
glared at him in outrage. “This is a trick. A sneaky, malicious
trick
!
You just want to make me buy more clothes, despite my very rational arguments
against doing so!”

Paul
threw his head back and laughed at her indignation. “You did say I could choose
what I wanted to do this afternoon.”

Emily
tried to organize her very rational arguments against spending Paul’s money to
buy clothes she didn’t need, but she had trouble making any of them very
convincing.

At
least she’d succeeded in dragging Paul out of his bleak mood.

“Fine,”
she muttered, shooting him a dark look. “But the dress is not going to be
expensive, and there will be no fancy accessories to go with it.”

“We’ll
see.”

*
* *

Emily ended up buying a
gorgeous black dress. Paul also insisted on picking out for her a double-strand
choker of black pearls that matched perfectly, which she begrudgingly accepted,
only because he kept capitalizing on the fact that she’d said he could do what
he wanted that afternoon.

Despite
her complaints, she was feeling pretty pleased with the purchases that evening
as she got dressed. She’d taken a long bath and had even taken the time to
paint her fingernails and toenails a striking dark red. Plus, she spent forever
on her hair until she’d managed to convince it to stay in soft, bouncy waves
around her shoulders, instead of frizzing like it had an annoying tendency to
do.

Her
dress was black, with cute cap sleeves. The hem fell above her knees, and the
silhouette tightened just under her breasts in the most adorable vintage bow. It
could masquerade as a classic “little black dress,” but it was too quirky to be
elegant in any traditional way. Emily loved it, even though Paul had to bully
her into even trying the dress on at all.

She
wasn’t sure where Paul was going to take her tonight and—ridiculously, since
they’d been married now for two months—it felt like she was going out on a date
with him.

She
was peering at herself in the mirror with a kind of giddy thrill at how she’d
managed to look both gorgeous and like
her
at the same time when she
heard a tap on her bedroom door.

“You
ready, Emily?”

“Yeah,”
she said, trying to clasp the diamond and emerald bracelet Paul had given her
for her birthday on her wrist with one hand.

Paul
opened the door and came in. He looked absolutely scrumptious in his black suit
and tie, which he wore with his typical effortless sophistication.

He
stopped when he saw her, his eyes reflecting a mingling of heat, possessiveness
and awe. She’d seen that look in his eyes before—mostly notably when they had
sex—and she recognized it now as admiration. “Very nice,” he murmured, just a
little thickness in his voice.

It
was the thickness, of course, that convinced her he meant it. He must really
like how she looked.

She
tried not to preen, although her cheeks were a little too pink. “Thanks. I do
love the dress, although I still don’t approve of your sneaky tactics in buying
it.” To distract herself from that very particular look in his eyes, she picked
up the black pearls.

Before
she could put them around her neck, Paul stepped over and took them from her hands.
He gently moved her hair out of the way and clasped the necklace for her, his
fingers warm against her skin. “I should be able to buy my wife a few things
without resorting to sneaky tactics.”

“Whatever.”
She frowned slightly and raised her left hand. “Do you think the bracelet looks
all right with the necklace? Maybe I should—”

“It
looks perfect.” His eyes were strangely hot as he stood behind her and gazed at
her reflection in the mirror.

She
wasn’t sure the pearls really looked perfect with the diamonds and emeralds,
but she liked how the jewelry looked anyway.

And
she liked that Paul liked how it looked.

And
she really liked how she and Paul looked together in the mirror.

Like
a couple.

“Okay,”
she said, trying to pull herself together and not turn around and kiss Paul
hard. If nothing else, it would mess up her makeup. “I’m ready.”

He
put a hand on the small of her back as they walked out of her room. She loved
how it felt there, somehow both protective and possessive.

She
wondered if this was how any wife would feel when she was about to go out for a
night on the town with her husband.

*
* *

It was several hours
later—well after midnight—when they returned to the apartment.

Emily
clung to Paul’s arm with one arm and with the other she cradled a bouquet of
pink tulips that he’d bought for her from a market they’d passed on the way to
dinner, after she’d randomly mentioned that she loved them and that she’d
carried pink tulips on their wedding day.

She
was laughing hysterically over a dry comment he’d made on the elevator ride up.
Her head was spinning, and she was flying on a giddy high. All worries and
anxiety from earlier in the day had completely vanished from her conscious
thoughts. She'd barely thought about them all evening.

“I
have something to announce,” she said, enunciating every syllable with what she
believed to be impressive articulation. “It’s important.”

Paul
had started to loosen his tie, even before they’d made it past the entry hall.
He looked warm and relaxed and slightly flushed, but still yummy in his suit.
At her words, he paused and gave her a questioning look. “What is it?”

She
met his eyes soberly. “These tulips
desperately
need water.”

He
laughed softly, evidently finding her words funnier than she did. She’d thought
it was a serious subject, since the flowers were beautiful, beloved, and must
be carefully preserved.

“Then
we should find a vase for them.”

She
followed him into the kitchen, since she assumed he knew where the vases might
be stashed in the apartment. He pulled a simple crystal vase from a cabinet and
then watched as she cut the stems, fill the vase with water, and arrange the
tulips in it.

When
the flowers were suitably arranged, she stepped back and admired them, darting
her eyes over to Paul to make sure he was admiring them as well.

He
was looking at her rather than the flowers, but his eyes were soft so she
couldn’t bring herself to complain.

“I
have something else to announce,” she declared, as the knowledge hit her like a
wave. She'd realized why her mind was a little fuzzy.

“What’s
that?” Paul's lips were tight again, like he was suppressing a smile.

“Those
fancy places you took me to tonight should have their license…lincenses…their
licenses revoked for serving so much alcohol to an eighteen-year-old.”

Paul
chuckled. “You didn’t drink that much.”

She
closed her eyes and tried to cast her mind back on how much she’d drunk. She’d
had a glass of red wine with dinner. Then some champagne at the place they’d
gone to dance and have dessert. She’d never finished her glass, but it had been
topped off a few times by their attentive server.

“True.”
She leaned forward to add in a stage whisper into his ear, “But I believe I
might be a tiny bit buzzed.”

Paul
laughed again and pulled her into a soft hug. “I think you might be right.”

She
hugged him back eagerly, loving how hard and lean and masculine he felt against
her. “I had fun tonight,” she told him, her voice muffled by his suit jacket.

“Good,”
he murmured, holding her tightly against him. “I did too.”

When
she pulled away, she fiddled with the tulips a little more until they looked
appropriately gorgeous in the vase. Then she started to pick up the vase to
bring it into the living area, but Paul took the vase out of her hands and
carried it for her.

She
suspected he (wrongly) believed she might drop it.

He
placed the tulips on the coffee table, and then readjusted their placement on
the polished surface three times at her instructions.

That
duty accomplished, she went to the bathroom. As she washed her hands, she
stared at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were deeply flushed, and her hair
and dress were a little rumpled, but she still liked how she looked. She looked
pretty, elegant, somehow womanly. She took off her pearls, since they felt too
tight around her neck.

She
nodded in satisfaction at her reflection before she returned to Paul in the
living area.

He’d
turned on some music and was sitting on the sofa, reading something on his
smartphone.

She
frowned at him. “No work tonight.”

He
smiled and put the phone down. “Just checking email.”

“That’s
work.”

Then
she noticed the music. It was just instrumental music, but it was very
compelling—and it had a slow, sensual beat she loved. She sighed in pleasure.

“I
loved dancing with you tonight,” she told him as she started dancing, mostly
just swinging her hips, in the empty space between the furniture grouping and
the doors to the terrace. The lights of the city were spread out beautifully
from the vantage point of the apartment, and they seemed to be pulsing, dancing
with her. “Thanks for taking me.”

“You’re
welcome,” Paul said from the sofa behind her. She wasn’t looking at him, so she
didn’t know what his expression was, but his voice was low and very nice.

She
closed her eyes and let herself go, enjoying the music and the freedom of
shedding some of her normal inhibitions. “You’re a good dancer.”

“So
are you.” His voice seemed to be closer than it had been before, but she didn’t
turn to investigate. The placement of his voice didn't seem particularly
important.

So
she was surprised when she suddenly felt Paul’s arms around her, turning her
around so she faced him. He’d fallen into rhythm with her, and he gently pulled
up her arms so they were wrapped around his neck.

She
sighed in pleasure again and pressed up against him, moving with him
instinctively in an unstructured slow dance.

They’d
danced like this earlier in the evening, and Paul had made her feel like she
was the only woman in the room, his warm eyes never straying from her, despite
the gorgeous people all around them.

He
really was a very good husband to have.

They
danced for a long time in the living room without talking. Eventually, the
dance became more intimate than anything they’d done in public. Emily’s body
was completely relaxed, almost like she was melting. She rubbed herself against
Paul’s lean body so she could better enjoy the sensations of being so close to
him.

Paul’s
hands had lowered to her bottom, which he was cupping possessively. He was also
pressing her pelvis against his, and she gradually felt him grow hard against
her middle. It all felt natural, sensual, instinctive. Nothing confusing or
shocking or with hard edges.

When
he started kissing her, that seemed instinctive too. She responded eagerly,
letting the pleasure and the deep feeling pulse through her body with her
blood. She raised her hands from his neck so she could stroke his hair, and
when she heard him moan into the kiss, she moaned back.