by Opal Carew
“I’m here tonight to support literacy, nothing else.”
Nothing else?
He ignored his inner voice and continued. “This event isn’t about me, although I appreciate the interest. The foundation my friends and I helped create years ago is a worthy cause, and I encourage all of you to consider donating to help us help others expand their horizons.” Blake swept a hand at the tall ivy-covered buildings nearby. “I came here to learn, and I did.” He winked at the woman who had charged at him. “In a variety of areas, personal and professional.”
Her cheeks pinked in response.
Blake smiled, secure his playboy reputation was still intact.
“As for your previous question, Dane Gordon is a good businessman who has done a lot of great things. I have no doubt in the future we’ll be meeting and discussing how and where our interests mesh and how and where they diverge.” He smiled. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a gala to attend.”
He strode by the reporters, letting security do their job.
Blake allowed himself a private chuckle. He’d given them enough to fan the fires, and yet nothing concrete. The first reporter, the woman, would write a glowing piece about him that would help increase the talk about him and his company. There’d also be a boost in the social pages about how he’d arrived single, flying in his private helicopter, and all sorts of rumors about that method of transportation and how he’d eventually leave.
A good start to the evening.
He stepped through the doors, searching the crowd automatically.
He skimmed over politicians and fellow businessmen, ignoring Broadway stars and entertainment moguls displaying their latest conquests.
He knew who he was looking for.
Blake strolled through the crowd, feeling himself drawn to one side of the room.
There.
He spotted Emily standing by the bar, drink in hand and chatting with Dane. Her long blond hair was up in a lovely bun with tresses falling on each side of her face, the light green dress clinging to her like a second skin. The diamond necklace caught the overhead lights and sparkled, stealing the show from everyone else in the room.
He felt the invisible punch to his heart, the inevitable reaction each and every time he saw her.
But it could be so much better.
Emily didn’t have to turn around to know he was there, his attention focused on her and her alone. She’d always been able to sense him from the first day they’d met, almost a decade ago. It was something about the man—the way he carried himself, the ne’er-do-well smirk that had teased her through those early days as he tried to tempt her onto the back of his motorcycle with the promise of a sweet ride.
It was as if they were magnets, both attracting and repelling each other depending on the day.
Emily turned to see Blake staring at her from across the room. He wore a fashionable black suit jacket with his signature motorcycle boots on display, provoking the usual odd glances and a few whispered reprimands. But she knew he didn’t care. He never cared about appearances or what people thought about him. And no one who wanted to work with him would either. He did what he wanted, and other people fell in line.
He stood there smirking with his hands in his pockets. People began to orbit around him, waiting for a chance to gain his attention and possible favor.
He gave Emily a short nod before turning his attention to a middle-aged couple standing nearby, smiling as he listened to them talk.
Dane let out a snort, snapping her concentration. “Damned show-off. Could have crashed the chopper into the campus. Irresponsible fool.”
She looked at her boyfriend. “You know he’s a good pilot. Besides, he wouldn’t dare die tonight. It’d be bad publicity for the foundation.” Emily sipped her drink, pulling back her thoughts.
You made your decision.
Now you have to live with it.
Blake cruised through the crowd, stopping to chat with many of the sponsors and guests, even dropping to one knee to be on eye level with a young child in a wheelchair who was obviously attending the gala as a special guest.
He followed the girl’s hand as she gestured wildly at the overhead decorations, the sparkling chandeliers and brightly-colored balloons catching her eye.
Emily found herself smiling as she watched Blake giving a bit of himself. He might have come far, but he never forgot those who weren’t as lucky as he was. As they were.
She thought back to one of the first times they’d been together, working on a charity event near the campus. The food drive had aimed to fill the shelves of the nearby food bank for those less fortunate.
They had been sorting through the boxes when a woman came in, looking for help. The supervisor informed her the food bank was only open on odd days and to come back tomorrow.
The heart-stricken look on the woman’s face had broken Emily’s heart. She was desperate, telling them about leaving her abusive husband and that she could afford a hotel room for the night, but she needed food to feed her children.
Without missing a beat, Blake had walked over and taken the teary-eyed woman outside. Emily had followed, and watched as he called a taxi for her and handed over the contents of his wallet—a few hundred dollars.
The woman had sobbed into his shoulder as they waited for the taxi, Blake rubbing her back and whispering quietly to her.
After the cab pulled away Blake had wiped his own eyes dry and walked back into the food bank, cracking jokes as if nothing had happened.
She’d never loved him more than at that moment.
But when pressed to choose, she’d reached out for Dane.
Chapter Three
Dane watched Blake work the crowd, slipping out from under the grip of one adoring woman who couldn’t stop posing like a lingerie model, draping herself over him at every opportunity for anyone who dared to pass by with a camera. He had to admit, the man did have people skills. He knew who to listen to, who to talk to, who should be praised, and who needed to be turned away with a gentle but firm touch.
It had always been Blake’s strength, all through university. He hadn’t cared who you were or who your family was. All he cared about was what you needed and wanted.
The memory stung Dane’s thoughts like a yellow jacket, reminding him of that fateful night and the decision they’d forced her to make.
The sacrifice.
And now his life with Emily, his so-called perfect life, had become a painful routine to be endured instead of embraced.
He suspected she was hurting as much, if not more, than he was.
Dane had no doubt Emily loved him, cared for him with every fiber of her body. She’d made her choice and he was the lucky man.
But they’d gotten . . . boring.
Not comfortably boring like some of the couples they’d met tonight, still holding hands and finishing each other’s sentences, still madly in love after decades together.
They’d become plain old boring.
He knew every Monday and Thursday she’d be late coming back to the condo because she would be stopping by the café to pick up those fresh bagels he liked. He’d be at the gym on Wednesday and Friday playing squash with Jeffery, who would make bad jokes about his wife not understanding him, and Emily would hold dinner until he’d gotten home.
Sunday mornings, before brunch at one of their favorite places, they would visit the graveyard to place fresh flowers on his parents’ graves, and later on she’d call her mother in Chicago to check in.
And they’d make love once or twice a week almost the same way, almost on an invisible schedule. Afterwards they’d get pizza, and they’d curl up and read their individual books, kept on separate night tables.
He flinched inside. There was something wrong, something simmering under the surface, and he didn’t know what to do about it.
Dane looked at the crowd, taking pleasure in the amount of money rolling into the foundation’s coffers. At least there was an upside to the evening. O
ne thing they could all agree on was that the charity benefited from their presence, even if it grated on them and their somewhat convoluted relationship.
He finished off his drink and handed the empty glass to a nearby waiter.
A slow waltz started and Dane smiled.
He might not know what to do about their relationship, but he knew one thing about Emily.
She loved to dance.
Dane skirted the edges of the crowd and found her, chatting up a pair of lawyers from a competing firm.
“Excuse me,” he interrupted. “But I’d like to take the most beautiful woman here out for a spin.” He reached out to Emily with a smile, enjoying the jealous looks from the two men.
She took his hand, grinning as he led her out onto the dance floor.
Blake couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. The way she floated across the dance floor mesmerized him. The brief sight of the cove had stirred deep, primal memories. Emily smiling. Emily naked. Her eyes closed, her head tilted back, a soft moan escaping from her lips . . .
No.
Don’t go there.
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying to tamp down the arousal building inside him at her fluid movements, at the joy on her face as she crossed the floor in Dane’s firm grip.
Emily made her choice years ago. He’d respected it, even if he didn’t like it. He and Dane had stood there in the moonlight, side by side, and asked her to pick between them.
He flinched. Asked wasn’t the right word.
Demanded. They’d demanded she choose.
She didn’t want to. He remembered her initial refusal, her insistence they could make this work, make it uniquely theirs.
But both Dane and Blake knew the opposite was true. The world wasn’t ready for their love, for their special relationship. It’d worked for a night, but how could they make it work for a lifetime?
He remembered jabbing at the air, firm in his resolve that she choose only one and walk away with him, leaving the other forever.
She’d chosen Dane.
He understood, although it grated on his soul every time he saw them together. She’d chosen the safe side, the slow, steady man who didn’t take risks, didn’t shoot the ball unless he knew it was going to go into the net.
She’d needed that in her life.
But, Blake mused, maybe tonight Emily was ready to take another path. Go for a bit more danger.
A flash of heat surged through his body as he watched Emily and Dane move across the dance floor, the flawlessly choreographed waltz keeping them in sync with the other couples. The emerald green dress kept rising and falling, giving him a look at those luscious legs he longed to have wrapped around his waist one more time. The silver strands woven into the fabric caught the overhead lights and made her shine, the regal queen holding her court in front of all her admirers.
Dane had a firm smile in place as they twirled around, a picture of perfection.
And yet . . .
Blake brushed at his sleeves, dropping his gaze to try and gain some sense of balance. It would be so easy to get lost in her. The draw she had on him was almost hypnotic.
He looked up to see Emily staring straight at him over Dane’s shoulder.
He froze in place, startled. It wasn’t a gaze of quiet contentment, the same he’d seen year after year in this very place, in this very room.
It was one of . . .
. . . need.
Blake swallowed hard.
There was no doubt in his mind that was a call to him. To him and him alone.
The question now was what he wanted to do about it.
Emily blinked, suddenly aware Dane was talking to her. “What?” she said.
He frowned. “Are you okay? You look a little off.” He looked around at the other couples circling them. “Is something wrong?”
“Off?” She gathered her thoughts, bouncing back his words to buy herself time to settle down.
“Yeah. Off.” Dane studied her face, his forehead furrowed. “Too much champagne? Drink it too quickly?” He pulled his lips into a tight line before continuing. “Remember the Wolfe party? The cheap stuff upset your stomach something awful.”
“Yes. Yes.” She scrambled for words. “I’m a little out of sorts. That might be it, the champagne. Maybe we should slow down a bit, give me a chance to catch my breath,” Emily said. She squeezed his hand. “Mixing drinking and dancing doesn’t always work for me.”
It wasn’t a total lie.
She took a deep breath, trying to shake off the feelings that rushed over her when she looked at Blake. This wasn’t the right time or place to deal with it.
She told herself that every year. But this year it was different, the pressure inside her building up to dangerous levels.
It wasn’t that she didn’t love Dane. But she loved Blake as well, and she’d been unable to turn off her feelings for him when they’d parted five years ago.
She’d tried to suppress her feelings, but they just grew year after year. She missed his infectious laugh and the practical jokes he’d played on students and professors alike, his cocky grin getting him out of any possible reprimands. Every time she read about one of his publicity stunts to push a new game she flashed back to those fun times on the campus, his lighthearted attitude hiding his inner drive to be successful and to never, ever look back. And now she had to see him stroll around the floor alone, laughing and flirting with the women, all of whom wanted to go back to his expensive condo and his bed.
A night would be enough to make a woman’s reputation. And propel Blake back into the social pages again as one of the country’s most eligible bachelors.
While she stayed with Dane, her rock. The one constant in her life, the man she could count on to always be there.
Just the two of them.
Emily stumbled, prompting Dane to shift over toward the edge of the dance floor to recover.
Her mind was spinning, the memories rushing up to drown out the present.
She wasn’t sure what the hell was going on. Maybe she had drunk too much or the meeting with their old professor had rattled her, pushed her a fraction too far.
Because she couldn’t stop looking at Blake. Even as Dane slowed his moves, considerate and caring of her well-being, she was searching him out in the crowd, finding him standing at the edge of the dance floor as if waiting for her.
He didn’t flinch under her inspection, holding his ground and letting her drag her eyes over him.
Emily held back a shiver, knowing what lay under the tuxedo and the dress shirt, what was under the perfectly tailored pants and the tight white underwear. She knew the bumps and ridges of his finely defined abs, the tight muscles across his back, and the ticklish spot under his left ribcage, guaranteed to make him smile.
Once, she’d traced the tattoo just above his navel with her tongue. Her mouth was watering to taste it again.
To feel the strong, muscular legs that had locked with hers, holding her in place without mercy.
She ached to touch him, to have her hands on his bare skin. And vice versa, to have his strong, calloused hands on her.
She tripped again and recovered, Dane barely managing to hold her up.
Dane’s grip on her waist tightened. “Are you okay?” He glanced toward a table. “Do you want to sit down?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine. Just thinking too much. You know how it goes.”
“I do.” He continued to lead her around the dance floor. “Listen. You’ve been putting in a lot of overtime at the law office. How about we take a week off and head up to the Hamptons? I’ll cash in a favor and call the inn, the one we went to a few years ago?”
“That’d . . . that’d be nice.” Emily looked at Dane, finding safety in his soft, blue eyes. She cleared her throat, putting more force into her words. “I think it’s a great idea. I’ll clear it with the firm tomorrow.”
Dane nodded. “Then it’s set. After tonight we’ll go away for a week
and relax. Maybe it’ll help you feel better.” He sighed as the waltz ended, the string quartet picking up the pace with a Latin-type tune. “Really? Couldn’t they play a few more slow songs?”
Before Emily could console him a hand landed on Dane’s shoulder, bringing them both around.
“Can I have this dance?” Blake smiled as he offered her his hand.
She felt Dane freeze in place, his fingers gripping hers tightly.
In all their encounters with Blake over the past few years, he had never dared to come up to them on the dance floor and break in.
Dane scowled and she saw the confusion in his eyes. The game had changed and he didn’t know what to do.
Blake stood there and waited for her answer, a gentle smile on his face.
“Do you want to?” Dane asked. “It’s your call.”
Emily looked past both men to the assembled crowd, noting the curious stares focused on them.
Damned if you do and damned if you don’t.
If she refused Blake Wittsworth, one of the country’s most eligible bachelors, people would be talking about how she insulted her old college friend. If she did take him up on his offer it’d be the reverse, creating stories of how she and Dane were breaking up after five years together and Blake was seducing her out from under Dane’s very nose.
There was no way out.
“I know what you’re thinking. You could refuse to dance,” Blake said under his breath. “And I’d understand. But then they’d wonder why you ducked out. And it’s more trouble than you want to deal with. Than you need to deal with.” His attention went to Dane. “If you don’t mind, of course.”
Dane glared at him, eyes narrowed. “It’s her decision.” He released Emily’s hand and stepped back, conceding the floor. “As it always was.”
Emily paused, her mind racing.
It was only a dance, after all.
Only a dance.
She nodded, giving permission.
Blake stepped up and took her hand, his other tight around her waist. He grinned and she knew in an instant that this was the wrong thing to do.