another month’s worth.” she said, not sure why she felt the need to explain herself to this stranger. “Just who are you anyway, and what business is it of yours what’s going on here?”
“I live here,” he said. “In the main house, that is. When I’m in the country, anyway.”
Emma looked at him suspiciously. “I don’t remember Jessica saying anything about you.”
“Did you two discuss everyone who lives here on the estate?” he asked.
“Well, no, we didn’t,” Emma admitted.
“Well there you go,” he said. “There was no reason for my name to come up. She does exactly as she pleases without any need for my input.” He slid from the table and walked over to the tiles waiting to be placed behind the new stove. He stood quietly for several minutes, arranging the mosaic.
“What time are you done for the day?” he asked abruptly, looking back at her.
Emma frowned. “Why do you ask?”
He walked back to where she was standing and reached out to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. She drew back, wary of his touch.
He smiled crookedly. No less than what he had expected. “Because I’d like to take you to dinner,” he said. “Is there something wrong with that?”
Emma arched one eyebrow as she looked at him suspiciously. “Mr. Rochester, this is only the second time I’ve laid eyes on you and frankly you scared the hell out of me the first time. Why would I want to go to dinner with you?”
“Blake, please,” he said. “And you should go to dinner with me so I can have a chance to redeem myself and prove that I’m not a serial killer or something.” He waited patiently for her decision. Seeing her obvious reluctance he tried a different approach. “How about we meet somewhere, then? That way you’ll have your own vehicle and you can leave whenever you get ready.”
Emma stared at him, unsure of her answer. Clearly, she would be playing with fire but she couldn’t resist the opportunity to get to know this man. Could this be the chance she had been waiting for? Her skills with the opposite sex were woefully nonexistent, so her judgment wasn’t exactly the best in the world, she knew that. But no other man had held her thoughts and her dreams so firmly after just one meeting. She wavered. Surely one meal wouldn’t hurt. She should be safe enough if she drove herself.
“Alright,” she finally agreed. She smiled at the look of delight on his face at her answer.
“How about you call me when you get ready to leave?” he suggested. “Give me your cell phone and I’ll put the number in for you.”
She watched as he quickly entered the information.
“There you go,” he said. “And I won’t ask for yours until you’re ready to give it to me.”
Emma laughed. “Like you won’t have it when I call you tonight.”
He took her hand and kissed it, lingering over the contact to press his lips to the sensitive spot at the base of her wrist a second time before letting her go. “So block your number.”
Her hand tingled where his lips had touched it. “Maybe I’ll just do that,” she said, her voice husky.
CHAPTER 5
Emma sang to herself as she drove back to the Connell estate once again. Eight long weeks and the job was finally finished. Today was the final walk through. Even though she had not actually given her final approval, Jessica had spread the word among all her friends how pleased she was with Emma’s work and the calls had already started coming in. She was going to have to hire an assistant just to keep up with the office so she could do the million other things necessary to maintain her business. No matter how successful she became, she couldn’t forget that it was her personal touch that the clients were paying for. Even her personal life was like a dream come true. Blake had been an absolute gentleman until she had gotten to know him, and become more comfortable with him, only then attempting to get closer to her. They had either been together or spoken on the phone every night since he had walked into that house and scared the hell out of her for the second time. Their dates had ranged from hamburgers at a drive-in in a nearby small town to a hockey game in Minnesota he had surprised her with, flying on a private jet. He obviously was wealthy, saying only that he had family money and had made a few lucky investments. Emma could respect his desire for privacy. It wasn’t like they were married or anything. Some things people just didn’t want to share.
Jessica was waiting for Emma at the door. Her eyes were sparkling and she was as excited as a schoolgirl. She grabbed Emma’s hand and pulled her into the foyer.
“Oh Emma, I can’t believe how beautiful everything is!” she exclaimed. “I know I was supposed to wait for you but I couldn’t help myself!”
Emma laughed at the older woman’s enthusiasm. “I’ll bet you opened your Christmas presents early, too!”
Jessica hugged her tightly. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” she said, turning and motioning her into the living room. Emma looked at her curiously but she said nothing, again motioning toward the next room. Emma walked forward but stopped abruptly as soon as she crossed the threshold. A photographer and a woman Emma had nearly worshipped from afar ever since starting her career were sitting on the plush sofa. Jessica swept in ahead of Emma, introducing her.
“Emma, this is Alicia Shepherd, the editor of American Design and her photographer, Jeffrey.”
Emma was trembling as she shook the woman’s hand. “I know who she is, Jessica. Her magazine is the bible of interior design. I’ve followed her since my first day of class.” She turned to look at the woman who had just fulfilled one of her dreams. “But why is she here?” she asked.
“To photograph your design, silly! Why else would she be here?!” Jessica said. “I called her as soon as I saw what you had done and she came right over. Alicia and I are old friends. I wanted her to see it before anyone had a chance to move or change anything.”
Emma’s head was whirling. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. They were actually here to photograph her work! She had finally done it!
Emma was still flying high when she pulled into her driveway later that evening. They had spent all morning photographing the cottage and Jessica had called for lunch, the three women talking as if they had known each other for years long through the afternoon. Mrs. Shepherd had quickly put Emma at ease, drawing out her history effortlessly. She was moved to tears by the story of losing her brothers then her father so soon after and caring for her mother through her depression while struggling with her career. After asking permission to use the personal information in the article she would write, she promised to let Emma read the final draft and have complete control over the content the public would see. The pictures and story would be the feature of the next issue due out in a week.
Emma fairly danced through the front door, dropping her keys onto the table.
“Mom! You here?” she called out as she went through to the kitchen. She spotted the note pinned to the message board she and her mother used to communicate. Her mother hated cell phones, refusing to even touch one except in absolute emergencies. She pulled it down, frowning as she read it. Her mother had gone to spend the weekend with her sister. There was nothing unusual in that but she rarely went anywhere on the spur of the moment. Emma picked up the phone and dialed her aunt Alice just to be sure everything was okay. Her protective instincts ran deep. Sure enough, her mother was there. The two women had talked early in the day and when an opportunity came up to spend the weekend shopping they jumped on it. Her mother adored shopping and Emma made sure she had unlimited access to money. It was the only thing she would disrupt her routine for and as long as she was with her sister, Emma could rest easy. She hung up, sighing deeply, her mood somewhat deflated at having no one there to share the news with. She thought briefly about calling Blake but she never knew where he would be at any given time. Their relationship sometimes