smiled. It was never going to happen, yet part of her fantasy had come true. Dylan had made glorious love to her. Okay, so she wasnât sure about the glorious part. Sheâd been too out of it to know if he was a good lover or not. But in her fantasy world, Dylan was the best. Appeal magazine had said so, too. Heâd been voted Most Sexy Single this year. And there had been endorsements by his former girlfriends. So it had to be true.
Her eyes grew heavy. It was a battle to keep them open with the cushions supporting her fatigued body and the quilt covering her. All tucked in, she gave up the fight and surrendered to slumber.
Ruff, ruff...ruff, ruff.
Emma bolted upright, her eyes snapping to attention. She found herself on the sofa, half covered with her favorite quilt. How long had she been out? Squinting, she glanced at the wall clock. It was eight thirty. Wow, sheâd been asleep for ninety minutes. Sheâd never taken a nighttime nap before.
Ruff, ruff...ruff, ruff.
Her phone rang again. She grappled for it inside her purse and put it to her ear. âHello.â
âHello.â
It was Dylan. There was no mistaking that deep baritone voice that had half the female movie-viewing population panting to hear more. âOh, hi.â
She hinged her body up, planted her feet on the ground and shook her head to clear away the grogginess.
âI didnât wake you, did I?â
Did she sound as if sheâd been sleeping? She tried her best to pretend she was wide-awake. âNot at all. Iâm up.â
âBusy?â
âNo. Just sitting here...going over a few details in my head.â A yawn crept out and she cupped her hand over her mouth to hide the sound. âWhat are you doing?â
âNothing much. I spoke with Darren on the phone and my manager stopped by to check on me tonight. To be honest, Iâm going a little stir-crazy.â
âYouâre used to being busy.â
âI canât wait to get back to work. But then, Iâm dreading it at the same time.â
âI get it. Itâs because of Roy. Itâll be strange for you to go about your daily routine knowing that heâs gone and youâre going on with your life.â
âHow come youâre so smart, Em?â
âI got lucky in the brains department I guess.â She chewed on her lip. She still wasnât comfortable speaking to Dylan with this big black cloud hanging over her head. It made her feel guilty and disingenuous. And why was he suddenly her best friend? Did that knock to his head change his perspective? Theyâd always been cordial, but since his rise to celebrity status, she hadnât exactly been on his radar. All of a sudden, he was behaving as if they were best buds.
He was disoriented. Fuzzy in the brain. And in need of someone he could trust. But as soon as he was comfortable in his own skin again, things would change. She had no doubt. Dylan was a busy, busy man, sought after by the masses and the media, with who knew how many opportunities for work.
She scrunched up her face. Donât get used to his attention, Emma.
âWell, I wonât keep you,â he said. âIâm calling to confirm our date.â
Date? A bad choice of words. âYou mean the hospital thing?â
âYes, itâs this Friday morning. How about I swing by your place around nine to pick you up?â
âThatâs fine. Iâm still not sure of my part in all this, but Iâm happy to help out.â
âYou are helping out. Youâre helping me.â
The way he said it, with such deep sincerity, tugged her heart in ten different ways. And it dawned on her that it wasnât just returning to work he was partially dreading, but going out in public for the first time with everyone expecting to see Dylan McKay back in true form. That was clearly worrying him. He didnât know if he was ready for that. He needed the support of his sister and friend.
âAnd youâre going to make a difference in a lot of childrenâs lives.â
âI hope to. See you around nine, Em. Sleep tight.â
âYou, too.â
Emma ended the call and sat there for a few minutes taking it all in again. She had to stop dwelling on Dylan McKay. Food usually kept her mind occupied. But oddly, she wasnât hungry. In fact, the thought of eating right now turned her stomach, so she nixed that plan and picked up the TV remote. She hit the on button and her small flat-screen lit up the dark room. The channel, tuned to the local network, was airing a movie. She settled back, propping up her feet, and stared ahead.
Dylan McKayâs handsome face popped up, filling most of the screen, his bone-melting blue eyes gazing into the pretty face of Hollywoodâs latest darling, Sophie Adams. The cowboy and his girl were about to ride into the sunset. The camera zoomed in for the movie-ending kiss, and just like that, something cold and painful snared Emmaâs heart as Dylanâs mouth locked onto Sophieâs.
Hitting the off button did little to calm her. Why couldnât she get away from Dylan?
Falling for the unattainable was romantic suicide. She wasnât that stupid.
Sheâd just have to get over her secret dibs.
End of story.
* * *
She was ready at precisely nine oâclock. When the doorbell rang, she took a quick glance in the mirror, checking her upswept hairstyle, snowy-white pants and the sherbet-pink blazer she wore over a dotted swiss top. A tiny locket nestled at the base of her throat; that, silver stud earrings and a fashionable chunky watch were all the jewelry sheâd opted for. She was going for a professional look without appearing unapproachable to the children. A little thrill ran through her body. Seeing Dylan aside, she was looking forward to meeting the kids, knowing firsthand how hard it was for a youngster to be outside the mainstream. Sheâd been one of those kids. Lucky for her, she had been healthy, but sheâd been different, unloved and unwanted, and sheâd never really felt as if she belonged.
Today was all about the kids.
She opened the door and was immediately yanked out of her noble thoughts as she took one look at Dylan standing on her doorstep. Sheâd expected his driver. But there Dylan was, in the flesh, his bandage gone now, the scar on the side of his head that would eventually heal only making him appear more manly, more dangerous, more gorgeous. Dressed in new jeans and a tan jacket over a white shirt, he smiled at her. âMorning. You look great.â
She didnât feel great. She had woken up pale as a ghost and feeling boneless from tossing and turning all night. But his compliments could get to her, if she put stock in them. He was smooth. He was the consummate lady-killer. He knew which buttons to push to make females fall at his feet. And with her, she was sure, he wasnât even trying.
âThank you. Is Brooke with you?â
He shook his head. âBrooke cracked a tooth this morning. She called me in a panic and said she had to get it fixed right away. I guess itâs because of your event tomorrow, but she bailed. Sheâs got a hot date with the dentist in twenty minutes.â
Or rather a hot date with Royce next week and she couldnât go toothless. âOh. Poor Brooke.â
âShe didnât call you?â
Emma lifted her phone out of her purse and glanced at the screen. âOh, yeah, she did,â she said. âLooks