Emma's Wish

Amanda sighed. Relief shone on her face. "Thanks, Emma. You're such a good friend. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Emma felt her face grow warm, but before she had a chance to respond, Sam came back inside, Nathan following close behind.

"Is that the telescope?" Nathan asked, taking a step towards the crate on the floor.

"Yes. It is."

"Let me see." Nathan's eyes lit up, and he made a move to open the box.

Sam reached out to keep it away. "Don't touch it."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not a toy." Sam lifted the box out of his reach and turned towards the door. "And besides, it has to be dark to see the stars."

Emma returned. "I'll show you after supper, Nathan."

Nathan's eyes narrowed. "Nah, never mind. It's stupid anyway," he muttered as he turned away and went outside.

***

"There's something I'd like to speak to you about," Emma said to Sam later that night after the children were in bed. Emma's grandfather clock ticked loudly, and the only other sound was that of the rocking chair squeaking against the wooden floor.

Sam looked up from the book he was reading. "What is it?"

Emma slid the sewing needle into the fabric she'd been stitching and folded it on her lap. "The children want a dog."

"A dog?"

Emma nodded. "It's good for them to be around animals--"

"They're around animals every day."

She got up and went into the kitchen. "But not pets," she called out behind her as she took two mugs down and poured coffee. Bringing them back into the parlor, she set them down on the table. She didn't sit back down. Instead, she stood before him, looking down at him with those huge green eyes that pleaded for his approval. "They told me about the puppy they asked for last summer. And now another litter of puppies is available."

"I don't have time to look after a dog."

"You don't have to. The children will take care of it - or I will."

"I can't afford another mouth to feed."

"We have enough table scraps."

"They need ..." Hell, he was running out of reasons to say no. Not that he really wanted to, anyway. More and more, he was finding it difficult to refuse Emma anything she asked for. Which wasn't much, he reminded himself.

And, he recalled, he'd used the same arguments himself the summer before when Catherine had put her foot down and refused to have an animal in the house. He'd tried everything he could think of, but she hadn't budged. And rather than tell the children the truth, he'd blamed himself.

He met her gaze, and she nibbled on her bottom lip, a habit he'd learned she had whenever she was unsure of herself. He had a sudden unreasonable urge to taste those lips, to capture the mass of curls in his fingers, to hear her breathing quicken and feel her heat close around him as he sank into her.

"Well?" The voice interrupted his lustful thoughts, and he glanced down at the closure on his pants. Damn! He had to stop thinking about her. But how the hell could he? She lived in his house, and she slept in his bed. Her scent was everywhere, and her gentle ways only increased his desire. Resting his book atop the evidence of the train of his thoughts, he sighed. He couldn't refuse her anything. How long would it be be

fore she realized that, and used it as a weapon against him?

Her lips curved in a smile that touched him deep inside. "Thank you," she murmured. She made a move towards him, almost as if she wanted to throw her arms around him, then she crossed her arms across her chest and took a step back. "Let's make it a surprise."

Sam laughed. "That's right. I forgot you like surprises."

"Oh, I do."