The Temptation (Filthy Rich Americans 5)

By my fourth fitting, Petra had gotten in on it too.

“Awful,” Vance said of the gray jumpsuit that seemed tailored to my body and made me feel like a million dollars.

“Yeah,” she wrinkled her nose, “truly disgusting.”

I laughed. And then abruptly my face crumbled as tears sprang into my eyes. The rush of emotion was so strong, it was all I could do to blink them back.

Vance and Petra were both up out of their seats in a heartbeat, but he beat her to the platform I was standing on in front of the mirrors. His strong hands circled my waist, and he pulled me in until I was flattened against his chest, bringing us nearly nose-to-nose.

“Oh, no!” she cried. “We didn’t mean it. You look beautiful, darling.”

“Emery.” He was full of dread. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

A stupid, uncontrolled laugh came out of me to try to play it off like I found the whole thing amusing and not utterly mortifying. “No, no. It’s okay. It’s not that, I just . . . I got caught by surprise.”

That did nothing to alleviate his concern. “What happened?”

I dropped my voice low. “Last time I did this was with Jillian. It’s so stupid that it’s hitting me now, but,” I swallowed a breath, “she’s gone. Like, really gone. I’ve been telling myself it isn’t real, but what if it is? We’re never going to see her again.”

Our friendship had started as a lie, but it had grown more real than anything else, and now I missed my friend terribly.

His gorgeous eyes widened and flooded with a pain that showed he understood. He didn’t turn away from me, but it was clear he was speaking to Petra. “Can you give us a minute?”

“Yes, of course,” she said and strode quickly from the room.

“Did I do this?” I whispered. “If I hadn’t opened that safe, maybe she wouldn’t have—”

His voice was steel. “Stop. You didn’t do this.” He stared at me as if he could see the weight of all the guilt I was carrying and thought it was unwarranted. “Don’t blame yourself for what happened to Jillian. It was not your fault.” His hands tightened to keep me from running away from the truth. “But I promise you, we’ll do our best to figure it out.”

My shoulders lifted as I drew in an enormous, calming breath. As I evened out, he did the same, and the body I was pressed against began to soften. His hands moved, sliding to the small of my back and then working their way up, inch by slow inch. The air between us grew thick—not with sex—but with neediness.

He needed a connection, just as I did.

Could he see how badly I wanted to create one with him? Not for his help with Lambert’s safe . . . but as a friend. Someone to share my secrets and grief with, and possibly my desire too.

Blood rushed through me as he lowered his lips to mine and claimed me in the sweetest, most tender kiss possible. It made my heart stop and my head foggy, and as his mouth moved against mine, the fog swelled until nothing else was visible except us. The pull to him was the same as waves that had crashed against the shoreline and then retreated as they were sucked back into the ocean.

Our first kiss had been measured and controlled. A reading of gauges to evaluate the best course. But this one? It moved with reckless abandon across a turbulent sea. Unguided. Adrift.

Suddenly, a change went through him like wind filling sails, and in this moment, he must have decided who was in command and where we were going. His hold on me firmed up, and one of his hands slid into my hair to cradle the back of my head. He took charge of the kiss, dipping his tongue into my mouth to stroke against me in a way that made my legs go boneless.

He was confident and prepared for that, because as I weakened, he grew stronger. His passionate kiss announced he had me. He was here with me, and I was desperate to believe.

Vance was a lighthouse during a storm, a beacon I’d willingly follow.

Time slowed as his kiss neared its end, and then crashed back upon me when the contact of his lips was gone. My eyelids fluttered open to find him looking at me with bewilderment. He stared at me like a person who’d spent a lifetime at sea and didn’t know how to tolerate dry land.

Warmth pooled around my heart. Our kiss had shaken him.

His unfocused eyes cleared and sharpened as reality descended on him. What we’d just done wasn’t practice or to convince anyone else we were a couple. He’d kissed me because he’d wanted to, and if he felt even a fraction of what I just had, he was in serious trouble of losing his bet.