She wasn’t really being friendly.
There was a private elevator that went up to the penthouse apartment. It seemed a ridiculous indulgence to Emily, but it did make security simpler. She descended to the pool level and stepped off to see another bodyguard, evidently named Mark, waiting for her.
She gave him a breezy greeting. The indoor pool serviced the entire building, but there was no one else here tonight.
She’d explored the whole building the other day, so she’d known what to expect from the pool deck. And all the adjoining rooms.
She spread her towel out on a chaise and stalled a little, pretending to take off her sandals. To make it look convincing, she should probably dive into the pool and do some laps.
But she didn’t want to make a trek out of the city in a wet swimsuit and with wet hair.
So she fiddled around a little and then looked over at Mark sheepishly. “Is there a convenient bathroom? I should have gone before I came down.”
“Sure. Just there.” He gestured toward a door across the pool from where she sat.
She rebuckled her sandals and then got up and walked around the pool to the women’s room. Mark came with her, which wasn’t surprising, but she was pretty sure he wasn’t going to follow her inside.
She’d noticed the bathroom when she’d been looking around the building before.
This door led from the pool deck, but there was another door to the restroom into a hallway.
She immediately walked through the bathroom and out the other door, knowing she wouldn’t have much time before Mark caught on.
It was a back hallway that led from the lobby to the housekeeping areas, but there was also a nearby door that led down to the building’s main parking deck.
She ducked into the stairwell and flew down the stairs.
The parking deck was filled with expensive cars, but it was used by the general population of the building, and the stairs and elevators didn’t access the Paul’s apartment, so there was only minimal security.
She walked around against the wall toward the garage exit. There was one security guard. He was employed by the building’s homeowners association—not the security firm Paul used—so he wasn’t as experienced or professional.
It was probably a fairly boring job, hanging out all night with the cars and checking out anyone who drove in. The young man was leaning back in his chair and watching a game on a small television.
He didn’t see Emily, even when she edged over near the big garage door. He would be conditioned to listen for cars coming in or out—not for a lone woman sneaking out of the building.
Emily had to wait a few minutes, but eventually one of the building’s tenants returned from an evening out.
When the car drove in, she ducked out.
As she walked quickly down the sidewalk, away from the building, she wanted to hug herself with pure excitement.
She was flushed and breathless from the adrenalin generated by her escape, but she also felt victorious—almost exhilarated—from managing to get out of the building undetected.
Now she just needed to find a cab.
It wasn’t even nine yet, so the streets were still crowded. The first couple of cabs she gestured for didn’t stop, but finally one pulled over.
She was about to get in when she felt a strong hand on her arm, swinging her around to face a very unhappy Paul.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, waving for the cab to drive on and then glaring down at her with eyes like hard steel.
Emily blinked up at him. Her blood throbbed in her veins, from her earlier excitement paired with the jolt of shock at being stopped so abruptly. For some reason, Paul’s language had startled her too. While he obviously wasn’t any sort of prude, she’d never heard him use the word “fuck” before.
She opened her mouth, but any words she might have said stuck in her throat.
“Are you insane?” he rasped, his voice thick with anger and a muscle twitching visibly in his jaw. “Do you want to get killed?”
“How did you catch me?” While the question was hardly the most relevant issue, it was the only thing she could think of to say. She was shaking a little, from adrenalin or shock or something else.
“There are cameras in that parking deck. When Mark realized you’d snuck away, we immediately did a search. Now tell me where the hell you were going!” He was still holding her upper arm in a tight grip, and now he grabbed her other arm as well. He seemed to be shuddering with barely suppressed rage.
Her first instinct was to be intimidated by his strength and his fierce indignation. That instinct was immediately followed by absolute outrage, though—not just that he would grab her the way he had but also that he could make her feel so intimidated.
Her teeth almost snapped as she processed a hot flash of responding anger. “I was going to do something on my list. I told you I wanted to do it alone.”
“And I told you that wasn’t an option.” His fingers tightened on her arms until it almost hurt, and he dragged her a little closer to him. “What the hell has gotten into you?”
“It’s not your choice to make,” she burst out, struggling to pull out of his grip. “What I do is none of your business!”
Paul seemed to realize he was holding her too tightly, and his fingers loosened on her arms. He also managed to moderate his voice. If anything, though, his eyes were even fiercer when he gritted out, “Yes, it is my business. You’re going to have to accept that. You can leave me and leave this marriage any time you want. But if you don’t, then you’re my responsibility.”
She started to object, instinctively resisting that idea.
“You are my responsibility,” he insisted, staring down at her with such intensity it was like he could somehow see her soul. “Emily, you’re my wife. And, whatever the reasons we got married, that makes you my responsibility.”
Emily stared up at him, trying to process what he was saying. How she felt about it.
“Excuse me, miss.” The voice came from behind her. She turned to see a young man approaching. He looked young—in his twenties—and he was glaring at Paul suspiciously. “Are you all right? Do you need any help?”
She suddenly realized they were having a very private argument in the middle of a public sidewalk. Flustered, she pulled herself out of Paul’s now loose grip. “Yes. He’s my husband. Just a squabble. Thanks, though.”
The man gave Paul a couple more dubious looks as he walked away.
Paul had initially flashed the man an exasperated glance, but he could hardly be angry at a man who’d been willing to intercede when it looked like a woman needed help. “Let’s go inside,” he said, taking her arm gently and starting to walk back toward their building.
This time, Emily didn’t resist.
Completely distracted, she kept looking down at the rings on her hand—the platinum wedding band and the gorgeous antique engagement ring. She was married to Paul—married to him. And she was suddenly hit with the overwhelming realization that it meant more than having a lovely, storybook wedding and living in the same apartment.
They weren’t in love, but he was still her husband. That evidently meant something to Paul. And it should to her too.
Marriage didn’t just mean getting her rings. It meant being tied to this man by mutual bonds of trust and responsibility.
It meant she would never be perfectly free.
“Emily, are you all right?” Paul asked, stopping on the sidewalk just in front of their building.
Emily realized she’d been breathing hard, almost gasping, as she stared down at her rings and tried to come to terms with this relationship.
Taking a deep breath, she nodded and looked up at him. She made herself say, “I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry.”
Paul blinked. “You are?”
She gave a nervous giggle at his obvious astonishment. “Do you really think I’m so dense that I can’t acknowledge a
reasonable point?”
“What convinced you?” he asked, little lines appearing on his forehead. He looked off-stride and just faintly suspicious.
So she told him the truth. “I know I’m being difficult. And I know it’s not fair for me to make things so hard for you when you’re just trying to help. It’s just…” She looked away from him and swallowed hard. “It’s just that everything has changed for me. Nothing is the same. And I just wanted to hold on to something, at least for a little while.”
Her throat felt like it was closing up, and her eyes started to burn, but she managed to finish, “I shouldn’t have tried to sneak out, since I don’t want to leave you. I just wanted…I just want to be me, for as long as I can.”
She hadn’t really meant to spill so much, and she felt horribly self-conscious after she realized what she’d said. She couldn’t look Paul in the eye, but she darted a quick glance up to his face.
He stared at her—not intense or emotional but deeply focused.
After a long, tense silence, he asked, “What were you planning to do tonight?”
Emily lowered her eyes. “I was going to go Lake Collins,” she murmured, referring to a recreational lake not far outside of the city, “To go skinny-dipping. I figured I’d take a cab to a gas station nearby and then walk the rest of the way, since I wouldn’t want a cab driver sitting waiting while I went for a swim.”
Paul was silent for longer than she expected. Then he said, “You can’t go by yourself. I’m sorry. I know you think I’m being paranoid, but I’m absolutely convinced my father is a danger to you, and it’s just too much of a risk. I realize it’s not the same, but what if you and I went out there now, tonight?”
She looked up at him in surprise. “Having all the security around might take some of the thrill out of it, but it’s better than noth—”
“I mean just you and me. I can drive us there.”
Her eyes widened as she gazed up at his impassive face, catching just a tiny hint of uncertainty in his expression. A pressure of emotion tightened in her chest. “Really? That would be okay?”
He nodded. There was pity in his eyes—she could see it there—but there was also something that looked like understanding. “I think so. Would that feel enough like you?”
She beamed up at him with a wobbly smile. “Yes. I think so. Thank you.”
* * *
They took Paul’s black Porsche, and Emily felt a silly thrill every time someone glanced over to see who was riding in the ludicrously expensive car.
Now that she’d resolved things with Paul and with herself, Emily's excitement about the evening’s activities returned in full force. She pushed all heavy thoughts out of her mind and allowed herself to enjoy it.
Once they got out of the downtown area, Paul picked up his speed. He let her choose their music on his sophisticated satellite radio, and she turned the volume up loud.
She had a really good time—speeding through the mostly empty roads at night and singing loudly to all the songs she knew, even the cheesy ones.
Before, she might have been self-conscious about being so uninhibited with Paul, since he might think she was foolish or childish. She just didn’t care as much about that now, though. Knowing you were going to die changed your perspective. Paul smiled over at her sometimes, so she didn’t think he thought she was too silly.
He didn’t try to make small talk or get in the way of her fun, and she was in high spirits when they got to the lake.
The recreation areas around the lake were officially closed, but Paul didn’t let that stop him. Instead of trying to get through the main gates—which were locked—Paul simply drove around the gates on the grass, maneuvering through some picnic tables, around a swing-set, and in between various trash cans until he could get back to the road that led down to the lake.
Emily had been clapping at Paul’s improvisation, and it wasn’t until he parked the car right in front of the sandy beach area that she realized she was here to go skinny-dipping.
Paul had turned down the volume of the music, and now he looked over at her with a little smile. “You ready?”
She nodded resolutely, grabbed her towel, and climbed out of the car. Paul got out too and walked halfway down the beach with her, until she stopped and leaned down to unbuckle her sandals. “You’re not going to watch, are you?” she asked, her heart starting to beat a little faster.
Paul gave a huff of amusement. “No. I won’t watch.” He turned his back to her and the lake, facing toward the car instead. “Is this okay? Nothing is likely to happen, but I’d rather not be too far away.”
“That’s fine,” she told him, taking off her sandals and then pulling off her little dress and dropping it on the sand.
It was a lovely, clear night with a mostly full moon. But there was a slight nip in the air, and Emily felt it as she started to pull off the top of her tankini. Her breasts jiggled from the motion, and her nipples immediately tightened in the air.
She couldn’t help but feel rather self-conscious, stripping with Paul standing only a few feet away. His back was to her, though, and he wasn’t going to look.
She had the bottom of her swimsuit halfway down her legs when Paul began to speak, startling her so much she gave a little squeak.
Paul had been starting to say, “Is it—” But at her squeak, he broke off his words and asked, “Everything all right?”
“Yes,” she said, yanking her suit off her ankles, “You scared me. I’m naked. Don’t turn around.”
“I’m not going to turn around,” he assured her, laughing low in his throat. “I was just going to ask if it was too cold for this tonight.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m not going to swim for hours, anyway.” She faced the water of the lake and took a deep breath, the breeze blowing against her bare skin and making her feel oddly vulnerable. “Okay. I’m going in.”
“Have fun.”
She walked to the water and started to wade in. She squeaked again as her ankles were sloshed with cold water.
“Cold?” Paul asked.
She sucked in a breath and shot a look over her shoulder, but he was still facing away from her. “Yes. A little. Not too bad.”
She walked in deeper, bracing herself against the cold. When she got deep enough, she dove under all the way.
After just a minute, her body adjusted to the temperature, and she started to enjoy it. She swam underwater some, and then splashed around, reveling in the way the water rippled along her naked skin.
The moon and stars were bright in the dark sky, and she did a length of backstroke so she could gaze up at them. Then she just floated on her back for a few minutes, breathing the fresh air and staring up at the night sky.
She felt almost free.
“How is it?” Paul called from the shore, reminding her of his presence.
She looked over at him. He still stood with his back to the lake. He wore the white dress shirt and gray trousers from the suit he’d had on all day, and the breeze blew the fabric against his strong, lean body.
“It’s great!” she called, laughing out of pure joie de vivre. “I swam in this lake all the time when I was a kid, but it was never quite like this.”
“I wouldn’t imagine so. Don’t get too cold.”
“I’m fine. Just a few more minutes.”
She dolphin-kicked her way farther out into the lake and then treaded water, enjoying the sight of the wooded areas and grassy lawns around the lake, all glazed in the moonlight.
Then she realized her teeth were chattering so she started back toward the shore. She swam slowly, extending the experience for as long as she could. Her breasts jiggled strangely in the water, without any sort of support from a suit, and her hair hung wetly around her face, since she hadn’t thought to pull it back in a ponytail. She felt absolutely wonderful, just the same.
She reached the point where the lake bottom got shallow enough for her to stand up, and she half-walked, half-swam her way toward
the beach.
She was about hip-deep in the water when something brushed against her leg, startling her so much she squealed.
“What happened?” Paul demanded, turning around in what was almost certainly an automatic impulse.
She squeaked again and ducked down into the water to hide her breasts from him, more from instinct than from any conscious belief that Paul wanted to leer at her body. “Nothing,” she explained breathlessly, “No crisis. Just a fish or something swam by me and scared me. Now turn around. I’m getting out.”
Paul obediently turned his back to her, and she waded out of the water and onto the sand.
“That was fantastic!” she burst out, dripping with water as she leaned over to pick up her towel. “Oh, my God, I’m so glad we did that!” Her teeth chattered helplessly, but she didn’t care.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it, but hurry up and get dressed so we can get you back in the car. You’re shivering.”
She darted him a surprised look, but his back was still toward her, so he must have heard her shivering in her voice. “Okay. Just a second.”
She dried off as well as she could and pulled back on the bottom of her suit. She decided to forgo the tankini top since it would feel binding and restrictive now, and they had a drive back to the city. She just pulled her knit dress over her head.
“Okay,” she said, trying to towel dry some of the wetness out of her hair and step into her sandals at the same time. “All done.”
Paul turned around, and he was smiling at her. For once, his smile looked real.
Spontaneously, just responding to an irresistible instinct, she reached over and gave him a hug. “Thank you,” she said, her mouth muffled by his shirt, “For taking me.”
Paul felt a little stiff, like he had the last time she’d hugged him. He put both of his arms around her this time, however, and actually hugged her back. “You’re welcome.”
She was pulling away, still shivering from being so wet in the brisk air, when he frowned and studied her face. “You’re freezing.”
“Not freezing, but I wouldn’t say no to getting back in the car.”
Listed: Volume I Page 8