Chapter Twenty-Three
THE DRIVE HOME was tense and silent. Emery kept a death grip on Dean’s hand, her face turned toward the passenger window, while Dean relived the storm that had taken place with his father. He’d tried so hard to be civil for all these years, but he was done fooling around. It infuriated him to think that Emery would back away, even for a second, because of his father.
He parked in front of his cottage and cut the engine. Darkness enveloped them, save for the dusky moonlight sprinkling through the trees. He lifted Emery’s hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. When she didn’t turn to face him, his heart sank. She didn’t deserve any of this nonsense, and darn it, she needed to be in his arms.
He stepped from the truck and came around to help her out, but when he opened the passenger door, she turned the other way.
“Emery?”
When she finally faced him, with tears sliding down her cheeks, every one of them slayed him anew. He gathered her in his arms and held her trembling body. “It’s okay, doll. I promise you’ll never have to face anything like that ever again.”
Her shoulders shook. “It’s not that. I want to be enough for you, but I only know how to be who I am. I’m not highly educated, or from a wealthy family, or whatever else your father wants me to be, but…”
“Shh, sweetheart.” He kissed her tear-streaked cheek, all of his protective instincts surging inside him. “You are more than enough. I don’t care about any of that. You’re all I want. You must know that.”
“I do,” she cried. “But it hurts knowing your father thinks…”
He didn’t know for sure what his father had planned to say before he’d cut him off, but he was fairly certain he’d read his message clearly. “He was commenting about me and what he wanted for me. He wants me to make a mark for myself in the medical field, and he thinks to do that I need a woman who doesn’t make waves and won’t distract me. Which is crazy considering my mother has always spoken her mind. He called you intelligent, Emery. This isn’t about you not being enough. It’s about you being too much.”
He brushed her tears away with the pad of his thumb and kissed each damp cheek. “The important thing is that I don’t want to be that person, and I’ve been with women who don’t make waves.”
“Diana?”
He nodded. “I’ve been honest with you from the start. You know how I feel about my relationship with her.”
“Nice enough, but boring,” she said, parroting what he’d told her before she’d moved there.
“And…?”
She sighed. “That you’d have clawed your eyes out if you’d stayed with her.”
That brought a small smile.
“You’re the only woman I want, Em. Headstrong, brilliant, willing to fight for the things you believe in, and full of energy so compelling, it radiates from your soul.” He touched his forehead to hers and said, “Don’t let him come between us.”
“I won’t.”
“Promise?”
She nodded. “I just got my feelings hurt. It was very girly of me, and I didn’t expect it.”
“I love girly you, and I’m sorry.” He guided her arms around his neck and slid a hand beneath her knees.
“You’re not going to carry me,” she said as he lifted her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. “Dean…”
“I think it’s time you stopped talking and let me love you.”
He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her as he carried her up to the front door. He unlocked the door with one hand, kicked it open, and carried her inside.
“That was pretty impressive,” she said as he used his back to push the door closed.
He was glad she was no longer crying, and tried to keep things lighthearted. “You haven’t seen impressive yet.”
“Mr. Masters,” she said as he carried her into the bedroom. “I believe I’ve seen your impressiveness before and found it quite enjoyable.”
He set her on her feet, and when she reached for him, he guided her hands to her sides. “No hands, Emery. Tonight I’m going to love you so completely, you’ll never want to tell me not to love you again.”
She reached for him again. “You don’t have to—”
“Relinquish control and breathe, sweetheart.” He guided her hands back to her sides. “Find your inner calm.”
She smiled and said, “When did you become the teacher?”
“Since I became an expert on all things Emery Andrews.”
Her tongue slid across her lower lip, and a flush rose on her cheeks. “I think you like me taking control.” He was aware of every breath she took, the seductive darkness settling in her eyes, and the quickening of her breathing. He brushed his beard along her cheek and whispered, “Don’t you?”
“Yes.”
She watched him intently as he stripped off his sport coat and tossed it onto the chair, sending the cats scampering out the door. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar, stepping closer, mere inches from her, and stood, unmoving and silent, letting the thrum of desire drown out the hurt of the evening. He waited a full minute, maybe more, every silent second heightening the anticipation. When she reached for him, he caught her wrist. Her eyes flamed as he lowered her hand again.
“Patience, beautiful.”
He skimmed his fingers from wrist to shoulder, feeling goose bumps rise on her flesh. He did the same with his other hand as he lowered his mouth to her shoulder, tasting his way across her warm skin to the hollow of her neck. She was panting now, her chest rising against his.
“I can taste the lust in your breath,” he whispered, and put his hands on her waist as he moved around her. His fingers grazed her stomach, feeling her quick inhalations as they slid over her waist to the backs of her hips. He kissed her shoulder. “I’m going to love all your hurt away.”
He unzipped her dress slowly, stopping to kiss her toned, beautiful back as it was exposed. She reached behind herself, searching for him, and he grabbed her wrist again. Tighter.
He leaned forward, putting his mouth beside her ear, and said, “Uh-uh, sweetheart. You’re not in charge right now.”
Her fingers curled into a fist as he guided her hand back to her side.
He followed her gaze to the leather necklace wrapped around his wrist, the two charms dangling just above his palm.
“You’re wearing it,” she said with awe.
“I wanted a piece of you with me. Do you mind?”
She shook her head as a smile appeared, and love rose in her eyes. Dean’s heart squeezed at the emotions looking back at him. He kissed her softly. Her fingers curled around his.
Sometime later—an hour or three, he wasn’t sure—as Emery lay sleeping in his arms, he tossed a hopeful prayer into the universe, asking for answers. Because if he knew his beautiful doll, she would carry the weight of his trouble with his father like a penance. And he wasn’t sure how to help his spiritual, bighearted whirlwind let it go.