Capture Her Heart

by Catrina Maddox

  Emily dropped onto a substantial, soft bed as he loomed over the top of her, stripping his shirt off and throwing it across the room.

  “Let me see you, sugar,” he purred, pulling her attention to his face as he went in for a kiss.

  He started to tug her dress down further, removing it as he stared at her matching black panties.

  “God, your beautiful,” he spoke in a tone of wonder that sent a thrill through her.

  His hands slid up and his finger moved across the damp spot darkening the front of her panties. Emily started to shiver at his gentle touch. She was primed. His hand slid down pulling the lacy edge of the panties down her legs, his breath teased over the small patch of hair above her slit. His tongue swiped out across her clit in one move, causing her breasts to ache.

  “You’re so ready for me. You don't know how much of a turn on that is, Emily.” His voice was almost a growl.

  “I can't take it. I'm so empty,” Emily breathed.

  “F**k, I'm not sure I can hold on, sugar. This might be quick, but I promise I'll make it good for you.”

  “Hurry!” the fire burning in her caused her to press into him.

  “Now, wrap your legs around me,” he ordered as he moved up her body, his voice shimmering with sexual force.

  Emily found herself responding to him. His hands curved under her bottom and splayed along the back of her thighs as she wrapped her legs around him.

  He moved in one quick movement, the thrust causing her to move backward on the bed, her body undulating shamelessly. He filled her right up. He started to move in and out, fanning the flames again.

  His chest crushed her swollen breasts as he pressed into her, kissing her and dragging her under at his pace. She felt his finger dip down into her moist heat. He stroked her clit, splinters of exquisite sensation radiating out from his touch as her orgasm hit her like a freight train. He stiffened in her arms as she milked his cock with the ripples of pleasure from her orgasm. He continued to move into her rapidly, the rippling aftershock giving her no time to recover. He reared up for one last hammering as he thrust his head back, his arched body rigid as he let out a hoarse shout of triumph before slumping down beside her.

  Emily was lax. She couldn't move if she tried. She was breathing rapidly and a light shine of sweat was visible on her naked body. A strong arm hooked around her waist, hauling her back against his sweaty chest, his teeth caressing the rounded corner of her shoulder.

  “Give me five minutes, sugar, and you can blow my mind again. That was incredible,” Blake murmured in her ear. One of his legs crossed across her thigh, displaying a tattoo that she hadn't seen on his hip. It caused all her senses to perk up. She could move, perhaps. After all, a shit-eater grin crossed her features. He was going to ruin her for other men; the thought crossed her brain, but what a way to go...

  The bright light streamed into her eyes as she blinked them open. She turned her head on the pillow. She had had the best night’s sleep in a long time. As she stretched her sore muscles, her sluggish mind caught up with her and she froze in confusion. This was not her bed, and the nightstand, a beautiful mahogany piece of wood, didn't belong to her. Emily turned her head to the other side of the bed, her heart jerking in fight. Oh, God. The initial bewilderment fled as her memories of the night before came back in glowing details. she blushed as she thought about what had happened in the night they hadn't stopped. Blake seemed to possess superhuman stamina and an infinite ability for invention. A tingle raced through her veins at the thought of the passion he had rung from her body. Well, she had no doubt in her mind as to the images of the wild night she had shared with him.

  He appeared younger when he was asleep. The tension was gone from his face. He was face down in the bed, his arms tucked beneath the pillow he was laying on, the sheet a tangled mess just covering his legs. Blake's muscular butt was on full display, as well as the intricate dragon tattoo on his hip. She'd been fascinated by it. She blushed again as she remembered what her fascination for it had led to. God, the things she had done to his body. The man was so far out of her league. Her heart started pounding and panic started to surge.

  What was she going to do? She had no experience of mornings afters. Could she brazen it out, act all calm and collected, and thank him for the night while he dismissed her out of his life, just another notch on his bed.

  She couldn't even explain her behavior to herself, let alone him; not that he was going to ask. She scoffed at herself.

  Oh! God. Her heart was racing hard as she envisioned the scene. This man had knocked her socks off. He had shown her that she was a passionate and capable woman... It would be oh so easy to fall in love with this man, she thought while gazing at his face. It would be like jumping from out of the frying pan into the fire. Oh! God! She had been a complete and utter fool. Emily tensed; perhaps it would be better if she just slipped out. That was itslip out, no scene, no having to pretend, no going down the wrong path.

  She rose on her elbows. The slight movement didn't even cause him to move. As hope filled her heart, she felt she could manage this. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she slid from the bed. Looking around the massive room, it was similar to the rest of the apartment; the previous night, she hadn’t paid much attention to the room. She scanned the floor looking for her clothing and started to collect them up. She moved slowly, scared to wake the slumbering man on the bed.

  Oh! God. Oh, Jesus, she chanted under her breath as she made it to the living room, where she dressed with lightning speed having found her panties, but not her bra. She zipped the velvet dress up. Its sophistication disappeared in the light of day, the velvet crushed from having spent the night on the floor. She took a quick glance down at herself. She was too large in the breast area to go without a bra. She tiptoed around the living room looking for it. Suddenly, she heard the creak of bedsprings, which sent her heartbeat into overdrive. She froze where she was. It seemed to take an entity, but no raging male came storming out into the room to confront her.

  Emily turned and caught her reflection in a mirror attached to the wall. Her hair was a gypsy tumble down her back and her eye make up was all but smudged off. Her eyes had a sleepy sensuality that she had never seen before. Her hand clamped to her neck, where love bites were visible. She looked like a scarlet womanshe couldn't leave the apartment like this.

  She scanned the room. The apartment was in the center of Queenstown, and while there wouldn't be many people around that early, the walk of shame to her car would only take about ten minutes. She needed to cover up. The thought of the tabloids getting a photo of her sent a cold dread shooting through her systema vision of the past coming up to haunt her. She couldn't find her coat either; she was sure that Blake had hung it up in the hallway the night before, but there was nothing there now. How strange, she thought as she pulled her hand through her hair as she looked around the open room. Emily didn't dare chance going back into the bedroom. Her eye spied Blake's suit jacketthat could work, she quickly shrugged into it. It was enormous on her as she expected. Still, it covered her from chin to thigh and would keep her warm while she walked to her car, and she could always post it back to him. She shrugged her shoulders. It's not like I don't know where he lives, she thought. She needed to get out of there before he woke up. She shivered. Perhaps I should leave him a note? But she didn't dare take the time to find a pen and paper. She fled down the hallway on tiptoes, her shoes tucked under her arm; at least her bag was sitting where she had left it.

  Her hands were struggling with the bolt on the door. Upon hearing the faint sound of the bedsprings creaking as he moved on the bed again, she slipped through the door, closing it softly without a sound, her heart rate still jumping around.

  Outside, she put her shaking hands up to her pale cheeks, taking one last longing look at the apartment. She jiggled around, putting her high heels on as she made her escape. Operating on autopilot, she instinctively headed for the safety of her car.

  E
mily felt her heartbeat start to steady now she found herself in the safety of her car. She leaned her head against the steering wheel as she contemplated what she had done.

  I don't have the excuse of alcohol for my actions! What was I thinking? I let my emotions lead me!

  Emily breathed in and out as thoughts buzzed around her head. I did the right thing in leaving. He was everything that she stayed away fromhigh profile. God. Thoughts of her parents flashed through her brain. She couldn't see him putting his women first, second, or even third in his lifesomething she didn't want to happen again. There was one thing to be thankful for. He sure showed her that she wasn't cold. Emily sat up at that thought, this is just lust. That was all she was experiencing. Better to leave it at a one-night-stand; he had Trouble written all over him. Already he'd rocked her little world; any longer, nothing would be left of her world when he up and left again.

  Emily slumped down in the car seat as she realized she needed to put the night behind her and carry on. Just a blip on the radar back to her safe cozy world where she could pursue her artthe most important thing in her life. Better to not get sidetracked.

  4

  Emily potted around the kitchen, enjoying the natural light that flooded the space. It was a sizable room for an old house, with French doors out to the deck that opened out to a spectacular view of the lake. Glen Point was some distance out of Queenstown, heading to the head of Lake Wakatipu. It'd been home for her since she was ten years old, when she came to live with Uncle. Emily had the doors and windows wide open. The heat of the day had risen fast that morning. In a daze, she had a shower, left her dress on the bedroom floor, and pulled on her usual attire, intending to do some work in her studio. However, she soon realized that was not going to happen; her thoughts were jumbling in her head. So, she retreated to the kitchen to bake. She greatly appreciated the simple pleasures in lifebaking being one of them. She found the process soothing. It enabled her to unwind another form of creativity. She was particularly enjoying it today as she stood in the kitchen, her hands covered in flour as she pounded on the dough in front of her trying to sort through her emotions.

  “Hmm, I not sure what the bread has done to you, but maybe you should give it a break.”

  Emily whirled towards the sound of the deep voice, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth as she saw who was standing casually, leaning against the open French doorsthe last man she ever expected to see again.

  “What are you doing here?” Emily gasped, her face draining of color as she recognized the tiger lounging at the door frame. He looked different in the light of day. The casual clothes he was wearing fit him to a tee. The soft blue denim hugged his legs worn from prolonged use, his T-shirt a dark navy that stretched across arms that were folded, displaying just how much power was in his body, casual hiking boots on his feet. If anything, he looked more dangerous than he did the previous night, stripped of his suit, the lashed tiger gone. He looked ready to pounce.

  “Because you took something from me,” Blakes's eyes racked up and down her body.

  “What?” Emily blinked at him as she got her bearings. She always thought the house was light, airy, and spacious, but as soon as Blake stepped through the door, it seemed to shrink, and the oxygen supply dried up, making her head fuzzy.

  “Is that your MO, Emseduction and stealingis that how you get your kicks?” Blake growled at her. “Don't play the innocent with me,” his voice blazed at her as his flashing eyes seared through her brain.

  “How did you find out where I live?” Emily demanded her scattered brain, trying to make sense of his words.

  “With my resources, finding out where the great Emily Wilde lives was child's play. Although you do seem to value your privacy, you weren't that easy to find. I'll give you that. What I can't understand is why you gave me your real name, or did Gerald spike your guns.” Blake growled at her as he stalked towards her.

  Emily backed away further into the room, putting the island bench in-between them as her hand moved towards the rolling pin left on the bench.

  “What are you talking about? I didn't take anything of yours,” Emily said, the bewilderment on her face causing the man in front of her to check up.

  “Don't lie. You’re the only one who was in my apartment yesterday.” Blake stood straight and looked her in the eye.

  “The CTV Camera shows you leaving the apartment with it,” Blake thundered.

  The penny dropped for Emily as she thought back to that morning.

  “Your coat,“ she breathed, understanding drawing across her features as she looked at him, the tension leaving her body as she started to move across the room to the lounge, where the coat rested after she returned home.

  “Yes, my coat, along with my cellphone, wallet, and house keys,” he drawled skeptically.

  There was a moment of stunned silence as Emily stopped in her tracks to look at him. The shock on her face made him pause.

  “What? I borrowed your coat, but I didn't take anything else. How dare you accuse me of stealing.” Emily's body stiffened all over as the tension in her muscles escalated.

  “What would I have noticed if the pockets had something in them?” Emily turned around and fell into his molten brown eyes, his intense gaze causing her body to send a hot thrill up her back as her thoughts straying to the night before.

  She turned away and moved across to the sofa in the open-planned living room. Bending over, she snatched the offending coat from where it rested on the arm. Moving swiftly, she thrust it out at Blake as he stood in the middle of the kitchen.

  Emily startled as the timer on the oven blasted out into the silence breaking into the staring contest. She stormed over to the oven, glancing at Blake under her lashes. She grabbed the oven door, pulling it open as she stole glances at the man she had been trying to forget all morning. The bread looked cooked; she grabbed at the tin without thinking.

  She yelped and threw the loaf back on the rack, the pain taking its time to be felt. She gazed down at her seared palms as blisters began to bubble up on the palms of her hands.

  “What have you done?” Blake was by her side in an instant, his hand climbing on her right wrist, spinning her around.

  One look and he was pulling her to the sink, turning on the cold tap and holding both hands locked together under the stream of water as he pushed the plug in the sink.

  Emily stood there shaking, her face paling as the pain started to intensify.

  “Don't you move those hands out of the water.” Blake barked at her as she tried to draw her hands out of the water to see them.

  “What were you thinking?” his cold voice causing her to freeze with the intensity of it. He reached for his coat and into the inside pocket pulling out a slim modern cellphone.

  “What are you doing?” Emily's eyes widened.

  “Getting medical help, those hands don't look too good” Blake leaned his hip on the island bench. Emily was unable to read his suspicious gaze.

  “You can't call an ambulance out here for a small burn it will cost a fortune,” Emily gasped.

  “I agree, I'm going to call a friend who lives out here who is a retired Doctor to come and take a look at your hands. You might know him, Cain Rawlins,” Blake glanced at her as he made the call to Cain.

  “Cain, Cain,” Emily spluttered like a parrot. The only Cain she knew was a good friend of hersanother artist who lived at the bottom of the road. The shock of the big gentle, man being a doctor was surreal, It was one shock after another.

  As he flipped the cellphone closed and tucked it into the back of his jeans, still leaning over the sink, she said weakly, “How do you know Cain?”

  “We were in the same army unit. How are your hands?” He bit out.

  She grimaced, “Not too bad.” It was only a half-truth. The cold water was having an anesthetic effect on the stinging and caused her hands to go numb. She started to move her hands out of the water again. Blake explored into action, gripping her wrists to
dunk her hand back in the water.

  “You need to keep it there for at least ten minutes to draw the heat out of the skin and stop any further burning.”

  Emily drew a breath in. She could almost taste him, the heat from his body, calming her nerves, wrapping her in a bit of peace.

  “I have a first aid kit in the bathroom. I'm sure these will only need a little dressing and will be right as rain in a couple of hours.” Emily smiled through the pain.

  “I don't think so, but the first aid kit would be good.” Blake moved soundlessly away, his voice getting softer as he walked down the hallway.

  Emily could hear him poking around. She turned with her hands in the water and heard the scrape of a boot on the sill of the French doors. She had to glance up as Cain ducked his head before straightening it. He came towards her, concern etched into this handsome face.

  Emily thought of her friend as a gentle giant, even though he was a giant of a man, standing at least six-feet-six. Built like a rugby player, all lean muscle mass, he had a quiet air about him, and his metal sculptures even made her sit up and take notice their graceful linesa thing to behold. She took another gawp at him now that she knew he had also been a doctor.

  “Really, Cain. You were a Doctor?” Emily pouted at her friend.

  “In another life, Emily,” Cain smiled at her, the concern lessening.

  “Well, you can tell me all about it later.” Emily let her friend off the hook.

  “Let me take a look at what you've done to your hands. Where's Blake?” Cain queried as he glanced down at her hands in the water.

  “Right here,” Blake returned on silent feet, the giant first aid kit in his hands.

  Cain made her try to take her hands out of the water several times before she could do it without pain. When she did, he carefully dried off the affected areas with sterile solution. The red and raw skin covered all of her fingers where she had touched the pan, with some skin blistering. Bits of skin, missing in places, caused her to hiss at the condition of the left hand in particular.