Capture Her Heart

by Catrina Maddox

  Emily collapsed, panting onto the grass just up from the sand after the first lap. Waving Blake on as it didn't look like he was about to stop, his long legs covering the distance quickly as he picked up the pace. He glanced at her over his shoulder with a superior grin as he took off and completed a further two laps at double the speed they had gone. His body was graceful and took the punishing pace with ease. Emily grabbed a bottle of water from the bag they brought with them. She stripped off her T-shirt so that she was only wearing her sports top, content to catch some of the afternoon rays as they warmed her bare skin. Then, she settled back, almost ready to take a nap in the sun.

  When Blake returned, his tank top and shorts clinging to his sweat-soaked body, it was to find Emily sitting on the towel, absorbed in a conversation with Evan, who had just come out of the local cafe across the way.

  “Evan,” Blake's voice was as curt as his nod.

  “Blake, still working out every day?” Evan nodded back.

  “On your way back to the house?”

  “Yep. Those windows won't sand themselves. Just stopped for a snack.” As Evan got up, his hand knocked Emily's, causing the bottle of water to flick some water down the front of her chest. She gasped as the cold drops splattered over her skin and slid down between her breasts.”

  Emily looked up to find Blake's eyes captured by the drops, his gaze following their trail down her chest, his eyes rising to hers, fire blazing in them.

  “Sorry, Emily. See you tomorrow, Blake,” Evan grinned as he wandered away from them.

  “What were you two talking about?” Blake bit out tersely.

  “I was talking about you,” Emily told him sweetly.

  “I hope you told him you were taken for, or were you too busy flirting with him to notice that he was leering down your top?”

  Secretly encouraged by his display of jealously, she leaned back further while looking up at him. “Pot kettle black,” Emily purred as Blake's eyes blazed down her chest. Emily, conscious of her nipples, tightened with hunger.

  “Besides, nothing is going on with Evan and me. I've known the man since kindergarten; it would be like flirting with my brother.”

  Emily watched as the tension left his shoulders. He leaned over her, his shadow falling across her like a caressing hand, causing her to shiver for a shattering moment. Emily hoped he was going to kiss her. Still, he suddenly jack-knifed in a fluid movement to his feet.

  “Come on back to the house before you burn. We didn't bring any sunscreen with us.”

  This tantalizing advance and retreat set the scene for the next couple of days. There were telling caresses and touches, followed by burning looks. Still, he maintained a gentlemanly distance the whole time, which was driving her insane. She didn't know for sure if you could die of frustrated fantasy, but she was heading that way. The thoughts that Catherine had put in her head wouldn’t leave. The days had a lazy holiday vibe to them. Emily groaned deeper into her pillow, kicking the bedding away that had knotted around her legs in the night. She needed a plan to find out if Blake wanted her. She lay back on the bed, trying to think. Her hands were healing nicely. Cain was coming to take a look at them that day to see if the dressing could be reduced, or heaven go without. She pulled herself out of bed and went into the bathroom to start the day. While she was brushing her teeth, her mouth full of foam that it came to her; the spa she hadn't been able to use since her hands were burned, as getting into a bathing suit is next to impossible. Still, once the dressing came off, she could use the spa pool to seduce Blake. She spat the toothpaste out of her mouth at the thought of her as a femme fatal. She had done it once already with him, she mused. Maybe she could do it again; in her closet was the red bikini she had been too scared to wear in public. Some wine, good music, setting sunit was perfect. Her mood improved, confident that today was going to end on a positive note.

  As the day progressed, Emily found her confidence waning. How was she going to seduce this sophisticated man a second time? He was going to see her coming a mile off. No supermodel, her curves she had too many and huge breasts, which she cursed daily because she hadn’t been able go without a bra over the last couple of days, having to settle for her sports bras that zip up the front. Possibly the previous time a one-off?

  Cain had been and went and declared her hands as healing well, so well, in fact, that he had stated that as long as she was careful, she could go without the bandages that were so cumbersome. He'd left some burns cream that he recommended for her hands to help keep the skin clean and ease the tightness in her hands. Although the blisters had healed, her hands were still a slight red color and only hurt a little when she pulled her hands into fists for Cain. The skin was dry to the touch. Cain left leaving just the two of them at the island bench in the kitchen having a cup of afternoon coffee.

  “I thought I would have a dip in the spa tonight after dinner to celebrate the bandages coming off,” Emily peeked at Blake through her lashes as she sipped from her cup.

  “Hmm... Sounds like a good idea, I might join you,” Blake said as he gazed at something through the French windows.

  Well, that was underwhelming she thought, and not as hard. Perhaps this would be easier than she thought.

  “Can I help with dinner tonight?” Emily proposed, her thoughts turning to how she could seduce him.

  “No, I've got it. Excuse me, would you?” Blake wandered over to the French doors, a frown on his face.

  Emily leaned forward on the stool, trying to see what Blake was looking at. If she tipped the seat just a little, she could see the couple coming up the walkway to the house. She didn't know who they were.

  The woman was stunning. She was tall and willowy, her blond hair hung down to her shoulders in a sleek bob that framed her classic features. The woman wore a tight-fitting suit in a bold blue color. Her cute jacket was open, revealing a close-fitting tank top under it. The man at her side towered over her petite frame. He was her opposite, dressed in jeans and a builder’s shirt with a logo on the breast pocket that she couldn't make out. He had heavy work boots on his feet. His muscular frame spoke of someone who worked for the muscles. His face wasn't what anyone could call handsomea Viking of a man was what came to mind when she saw him.

  Blake opened the door as the couple made it up onto the deck, greeting them as if he knew them well. Emily leaned a bit further forward. The stool slipped out from under her. Emily found herself pitched forward into the kitchen island, the stool shooting backward with the movement. She tried to grab the island bench and cried out as her abused hands bore her full weight. Pulling them back, she tumbled to the ground in a heap. She caught a glimpse of a pair of male legs turning towards her from the side of the kitchen bench.

  Great, just great, she thought, closing her eyes in mortification and breathing deeply through her mouth.

  “Emily, are you alright? Don't move. Let me check you out.” Blake’s brisk tone came from above her head.

  Emily looked up to see three pairs of eyes looking down at her in concern. Blake bent to his knees in front of her.

  “I'm fine, Blake. Just a bruised ass; nothing new.” Emily tried to brush his hands off her as embarrassment shot through her bloodstream.

  “How did you fall off the stool?” Blake asked, puzzlement on his face as he gripped her waist despite her protest and pulled her to her feet in one graceful move.

  A blush moved up her cheeks as she thought about the reason why she had fallen. Eavesdropping was not something she wanted to admit to.

  “I just tripped as I was getting off it; just one of those things.” Emily tried to brush it aside.

  “So, who do we have here?” Emily turned to the couple, who entered the house after Blake with a warm smile.

  “Not until I check that you have not done any further damage to your hands, Emily.” Blake grabbed her wrists, turning her towards him and twisting them so her palms were facing upwards towards him.

  “Emily injured her hands a couple o
f days ago.” Blake spoke absently to the couple.

  “Oh, I hope nothing too bad,”

  Emily could hear the evident sympathy in her tone.

  “Just a small burn, it made it difficult to use my hands.” Blake’s snort could be heard by all at her statement.

  Emily could see the Viking Giant's amused grin. The blond elbowed him in the side. She watched the byplay between the couple. As the touch of Blake's fingers against her palms as he ran them over, the center caused a shiver through her veins at the delicate touch.

  “Looks good, Em. These two work for me,” Blake gestured at the couple.

  “The good-looking blond is Eliza. She's my right-hand architect,” he grinned at the Viking as he gave a low growl at the introduction. “And this gentleman is Victor, Head Foreman for our high-end construction work. May I introduce Emily Wilde.” Blake completed the introductions while picking up the stool she had been sitting on and pulling it back to the island for her as the others took seats around the island bench at his prompting.

  “Hello, Emily. I'm really sorry to barge in like this, but I didn't know what else to do, except getting the boss involved.” Eliza smiled. Her tone held a genuine remorse and openness that made it hard to be upset with her.

  “Look, why don't I make some coffee while you all talk it over with Blake,” Emily suggested, figuring that they didn't want a third wheel involved in company matters.

  Emily listened with half an ear at the conversation behind her at the island bench as she made coffee for everyone enjoying watching Blake interact with his staff. He listened carefully to what each had to say. Clear that he was held in respect, the easy banter between the three impressive to see, It was also clear that once Blake made a decision, it was final, but he asked questions first in trying to come up with a solution. She studied Eliza; she was professional, with both men at the table, her natural personality coming through. Looks and brain. Emily decided. She fit Blake’s world to a tee. How would she be able to compete with a woman like that long term? She ducked her head as her heart gave a ting at the thought of Blake leaving her for a woman like Eliza.

  “The only issue is that whatever we come up with, Mrs. Barrett is only going to agree with it if it comes from you, boss. You know what she's like.” Victor's tone pulled her away from her wool-gathering.

  Emily laughed at the thought of Blake flirting with a female to get his way. It was so not male and direct. The idea of him charming someone to his approach didn't suit the image she had; not that he didn't have charm, she thought. Emily cocked her head to one side as she realized she'd only known Blake a few days, but it seemed like a lifetime. The comfortable atmosphere they had created in this bubble of her injury.

  Emily looked to the island bench to find three pairs of eyes looking at her again all with amusement.

  “You find that funny, do you, Em?” Blake cocked an eyebrow at her.

  Emily found she could not read the expression on his face.

  “What? Ahh… sorry, I was wool-gathering. Did you say something?” Emily blandly lied as she brought the coffees over.

  “A one-legged Blond for you.” Em placed the coffee in from of Victor while handing out the black as black to Blake and Elisa.

  “What?” She saw the shocked expressions of Eliza and Blake's faces as Victor tipped his head back and roared with laughter.

  “I don't think they've heard that expression before, Victor gasped. “I think they thought you were referring to this.” Victor knocked on his right leg, which made a pinging noise.

  “Oh, you've got a prosthetic leg.” Emily looked at Victor, his amusement made her smile.

  “I stand corrected. Here is your one sugar and milk, Victor,” Emily said in her best English accent, giving Victor a wink.

  “I think I have some competition,” Eliza said drolly as she glanced at Blake in the eye. Unable to read the byplay between the two, the glance made her aware something had been spoken.

  Emily hopped onto a stool next to Blake and quickly sipped from her mug, her hands wrapped around it. The warmth was comforting her as the three resumed their discussion, blueprints for a massive house in front of them. The situation bringing home to her that Blake was not a 'tradie' but a businessman in charge of a successful construction company for the last couple of days; nothing like his regular routine. It gave her pause as she viewed the plans in front of them.

  Emily found herself engrossed in looking at the plans. A beautiful house, and of considerable size. The design let in natural light through most of the house, with well-portioned rooms. The graphics attached showed the outer cladding proposed was a mix of wood and shitz stone. The stone local to the area ,the house would blend into its surroundings comfortably, she thought.

  It was the back bedroom, or so she thought, that was under discussion. Why would anyone want the floor to ceiling windows across one whole wall in a bedroom?

  “Why do they want another window in the room?”

  “She wants to let as much light into this room as possible. She wants it to be a painting room,” Eliza said.

  “So, why not go with a skylight, like most artist studios. Getting natural light from above is much better than trying to go with floor to ceiling windows to let light in.” Emily looked up from the plans.

  “Why didn't we think of that? We could recess the skylight in and it wouldn't ruin the line of the roof and could be hidden,” Eliza exclaimed.

  “You involved in the design business?” Victor asked.

  “No, but I've been involved in artist studio's my whole life.”

  “It's a case of being too involved with the client to see the wood for the trees, sometimes.

  I'm sorry to have bothered you, boss, but when Victor said structural, we couldn't make more windows work, and it being Mrs. Barrett,” Eliza trailed off as she feverously twisted the ring on her finger around.

  “I know how she is. How about I go with you and help square away with Mrs. Barrett.” Blake stood up from the bench, rolling the plans together.

  “You don't mind, do you, Em?. I'll be back for that dinner and spa.” Blake winked at her as he bundled up Victor and Eliza towards the French Doors before any further questions could be asked of her.

  “It was lovely to meet you, Emily,” Victor winked at her as he escorted Eliza out the door as farewells were exchanged in a rush. Blake hustled everyone along.

  10

  Sitting outside on the deck, Emily ate a lonely dinner. She checked her watch; it had been three hours since Blake left with Elza and Victor. She waited as long as she could, but her groaning stomach demanded satisfaction. He said he would only be gone for an hour. What could be taking so long?

  Well, blast it. Emily stormed inside, feeling like a five-year-old that had her toy taken away from her. She smiled ruthfully at the image that came to mind as she found herself in the bedroom, pulling the red bikini out of the drawer.

  Emily held up the strips of red cloth in front of her. It had been a gift from Catherine, but she never had the guts to wear it in public. Sunbathing in the back yard was no issue, where someone could see her. No way! Emily threw it onto the bed and started to take her clothes off. She was wearing it, if only for herself, she thought.

  The cut of the legs was high, and the bottoms were held together at the hips with ties. The top was molded from minuscule cups that lifted and supported her amble chest ties at the back of the neck and back held the fabric on. It gave her cleavage an excellent enhancement. She moved side to side in front of the mirror.

  Well, it's his loss, she thought as she grabbed a beach towel from the hall closet on her way past. The latest novel she was reading tucked under her arm as she made her way to the spa out on the deck. As she passed the kitchen, the red wine that she had been drinking with dinner caught her eye. Hmm… a nice glass of that would help her relax. Without thinking, she swiped up the open bottle and a glass from the cupboard and slipped through the open French doors.

  Moving th
e cover off the spa, she dipped her toe into the water, the steam rising fast from the surface of the water, thankful that she had remembered to turn the heater on before dinner.

  Emily slipped into the spa, groaning out loud at how the heat soothed sore muscle she didn't know she had. An indulgence of hers; she'd pestered her uncle to allow her to install one at the home when she was a teenager. She had it installed with the money she'd made on the first art piece she sold. Over the years, her uncle had fallen for the charms of the spa and upgraded it to the latest one last year, much to Emily’s delight. She moved around in the water, allowing it to lap at her skin. Looking up at the darkening sky, the water felt like silk against her skin. If only Blake were with her, would she have had the confidence to go through with it a second time? Still, it appeared it was a moot point. He was off with the glamorous Elza. She thought she was much more his type when she thought about it, those looks between the two, clear that they knew each other well. How was she supposed to compete with that? The old insecurities lapped at her heart.

  Would she just be scratching an itch? The thought rolled around her head. He had Elza sitting in the wings. This would be time out of time; the ideas came fast through her brain. The two of them had been professional; not a hint of anything that she could see in the kitchen.

  “On my god, I'm jealous.” Emily found herself breathing the words out loud. She reached for the glass of wine and took a huge gulp of the liquid. Emily analyzed her thoughts as she put the glass back, her hand trembling a little.

  She realized that her feelings for Blake had grown over the last four days, that her heart was engaged that it was in danger of becoming hurt. He meant more to her than she had realized.