She shampooed her hair, closing her eyes to absorb the sensation of soap and water running in rivulets over her skin. Her skin felt too tight, too sensitive. Everywhere she touched she felt fingers of arousal pulsing through her body. She leaned against the shower wall, frowning, trying to understand what was happening to her. Her breasts felt full and heavy, aching with the need to be touched. She felt empty inside, her body flushed, almost feverish. The water actually hurt her skin.
Emma stepped out of the tiled stall and wrapped herself in a towel, looking in the mirror and feeling a little dazed. The need to be touched was growing, not lessening, and it had come on slowly, so slowly she hadn't realized what was happening until the last week. Everything seemed different to her, as if all her senses were heightened.
A thump on the door had her whirling around with a small gasp.
"Hey! Emma, look alive. The phone repairman is here." Emma took a deep breath and let it out. She had to pull herself together and stop all the silly nonsense that could threaten their very comfortable world. She dressed briskly and once again quickly caught her hair in a barrette, pulling it back away from her face, making a mental note to have it cut soon. She wore it up far more often than down anyway. Running after the two small children made it impossible to style.
Joshua waited on the stairs for her. "I'm supposed to stay with you."
"You're supposed to stay in the house." Emma pushed past him, her hand brushing his chest. She felt a shudder of awareness go through him and she turned her head to look at him. Joshua had always--always--acted like an older brother. Now he was looking at her with speculative eyes. She frowned at him. "Go away, Joshua."
"You smell good."
"You smell like horses. Where is our guest and why did you leave him alone?" Her voice was tinged with exasperation. Everyone was losing their minds lately, not just her. Joshua stared at her with hot eyes, making her uncomfortable.
She ran lightly down the stairs into the entryway to find a young man standing awkwardly, staring around him with a slightly awed expression on his face. "Hello, I'm Emma Reynolds, the housekeeper. I'll show you all the phones."
"Greg Patterson."
"The housekeeper?" Joshua snorted.
Emma glared at him. "Thank you so much, Joshua. I'll show him the phones. If you'd like, I made fresh bread. It's in the bread basket on the counter."
Joshua frowned at her. "Emma . . ."
She smiled serenely. "It's your favorite. I know you're on a break, so I made fresh coffee for you as well." There. She'd given him a good reason to stay in the house and not make it look like they didn't trust the phone man. She kept her smile, willing Joshua to follow her lead.
"The kids?"
"Taken care of," she answered, grimly hanging on to her smile. Did he think she was an idiot? Of course she'd made certain Susan knew to keep Andraya and Kyle locked away in the nursery while they had company in the house. He was almost as bad as Jake. She'd lived with the security for two years, understood it and accepted it, but she didn't need a babysitter. She was not going to be humiliated by having Joshua follow them from room to room. He could sit in the kitchen and listen for screams if he was as paranoid as Jake. Jake had said in the house, not necessarily in the room.
The scent of fresh-baked bread permeated the house, and after a brief hesitation and quick warning glare at the telecommunications man, Joshua abruptly turned on his heel and headed for the kitchen.
Emma turned her attention to the workman. He was short and stocky, with wavy brown hair and warm, smiling eyes. He looked so familiar Emma found herself frowning, trying to place him. "Do I know you?"
"Sort of." He followed her down the hall, staring, a little awed at the massive, beautiful rooms they passed. "We've bumped into each other in the grocery store, in the produce section. You helped me pick up my apples when I dropped them."
Emma laughed. "I remember, of course. You enjoy juggling."
His gaze flickered downward to her left hand, noted the absence of a ring as she waved him into a room. "Quite a house you've got here."
"Thank you." Emma loved the house, and appreciated anyone who recognized its beauty. "It takes quite a bit of care, but I love working here."
"I always wanted to see this estate. No one can actually get on the property without an escort. The grounds are incredible and the house even more so."
"It is a working cattle ranch," Emma explained.
"Is Mr. Bannaconni here much?"
Emma tossed a small smile over her shoulder, but didn't answer the query. Her loyalty was solidly with Jake, and as such, she never gave information about him to anyone. The smallest remark could end up in a tabloid, and Jake had enough people hounding him. In truth, he flew often out of the country as well as to the many states where he owned properties, but he always returned home to the ranch.
They passed the long, wide, sweeping staircase and the high ceiling where the bronze leopard sat amid climbing plants. She was pleased at Patterson's swift intake of breath. "This house is amazing. You must love it here."
"Yes, I do." And she took great pride in making certain it was clean. Jake insisted on cleaners coming twice a week, but she managed every day and it made her feel possessive and proud of their home.
She gestured toward the phone in the den. "This is where I notice the noise the most. The other phones have just a tinge, but this one is more pronounced."
Greg set his equipment down and watched as she perched on the arm of a chair across the room from him. "This may take a while."
"That's fine. I expected it to," she answered, her voice pleasant.
Greg snuck another quick look at her before returning his gaze to the phone cradled in his hand. "Are you and Mr. Bannaconni together? I didn't notice a ring, but that doesn't seem to make much of a difference these days."
Emma stiffened. Was he looking for information for the tabloids? She tried to keep her voice light and casual. "I work here."
Greg shot her a quick, shy smile. "Well, in that case, there's a great movie opening at the theater tomorrow night that I was hoping to see. I don't suppose you'd want to go with me?" He couldn't make himself look at her when he asked her, rubbing at an imaginary fleck of dirt on the telephone instead.
Emma sucked in her breath. She'd never dated anyone, not really. Not before Andrew. But Jake had just taunted her, made fun of her actually, by telling her she'd never find another man because she didn't pay attention to men. Jake, Greg seemed young and uncomplicated, even tame. He certainly didn't stir her sexually, but she needed something, a change, a way to deal with the way Jake made her feel.
"If you don't mind me meeting you there, and it would have to be the late show," Emma found herself agreeing. She held her breath, suddenly hoping he would say no.
"Great!" An enthusiastic smile lit his eyes. "Tomorrow night, then."
Emma's heart thudded in alarm. What had she done? Jake had hurt her ego, and in a small spurt of defiance she had made a decision she wasn't really ready for. And it wasn't fair to Greg. She had no real interest in him. Her decision was really about being afraid of herself, of the aching needs she couldn't quite get free of. She wasn't herself lately at all, and her dreams were downright humiliating. Every single one of them was about Jake and things she had no real knowledge of and wasn't certain she really wanted to learn.
"Greg, I'll go with you as a friend. Nothing more. If that's not what you want, then I'll have to back out. I should have made that clear." She kept her voice gentle, low, sorry she might be hurting him, angry with herself for getting into such a position because of pride and fear. It wasn't Greg's fault that he'd happened along at precisely the moment she would agree.
"I understand. It's all good," he said. "I'd like to go with you."
He sent her another brief grin, one that was strangely reminiscent of Andy's. Sweet. Not asking for anything. Friendly. Maybe he was just what she needed. Jake's personality was overwhelming, swamping her, chipping away at
her resistance. Everything about Jake tore at her continually. His intense needs. His dark, brooding manner. His pain. His arousal. His orders and flashes of temper. The way he softened when he was with her. The way he lay next to her when he couldn't sleep and idly played with strands of her hair, sometimes touching her soft skin and sliding his fingers over her warmth as if she belonged to him.
Just thinking about his touch made her slick with damp heat. She took a breath, let it out and forced a smile, trying to understand what Greg was saying to her.
Greg explained every detail as he worked, his voice droning on and on, until she felt desperate. It was impossible not to think about Jake when she wasn't in the least bit interested in how the phone worked. She heard him call her name and looked up expectantly, embarrassed that she'd drifted off a second time.