Meddling with a Millionaire (Case Brothers 1)

“Well, since you put it that way.”

Emma laughed as Nathan pulled her to her feet.

He sent a bellboy to fetch her things. In the suite, while Nathan tipped the man and sent him on his way, Emma pulled out the room service menu and flipped through it. Nathan came to stand behind her, his fingers grasping the zipper at her nape.

“Hungry?” He slid the zipper down her back and bent to kiss her shoulder.

Emma turned in his arms, letting the dress fall to her feet. “Dessert first.”

Wrapped in a plush towel provided by the hotel, Emma dried her hair and regarded her reflection. Her eyes sparkled with secret delight and an irrepressible smile lifted the corners of her mouth. She glowed the way a woman who’d spent the afternoon being the object of a man’s adoring caresses ought to. Thank goodness it wasn’t illegal to feel this wonderful.

Just thinking about the exquisite way Nathan had plied her body made her shiver anew at the realization that they had all night to indulge in more such perfect loving. Of course, if they continued at their current pace, she might be dead of exhaustion by morning. But what a way to go.

“What are you thinking about?” Nathan returned from the bedroom where he’d been ordering room service. He stepped behind her and met her gaze in the mirror.

“You,” she replied, her smile turning salacious. “On the dining table in the other room, covered in whipped cream and chocolate sauce.”

His brows rose. “I think it’s your turn.” His hands snaked around her waist to loosen the robe’s belt.

“We can’t,” she protested, turning off the hair dryer so she could clutch the robe closed. “Dinner first. I’ve got to eat to keep my strength up.”

“You don’t need strength for what I have in mind. Just lie back and let me do all the work.” His grin was pure wolf.

She laughed, but continued to defend herself from his questing hands. Breathless with rising desire and from resisting his efforts to separate her from the robe, she was only half-relieved when a knock on the door announced room service.

While Nathan went to let the waiter in, Emma quickly checked her voice mail. She was hoping for a call from a woman who’d been interested in commissioning a piece of jewelry from her. Granted, it was too late for her to use the money toward winning the wager with her father, but this sort of business would provide a whole new source of income.

She wondered how Nathan would take the news that she intended to keep designing and producing jewelry after they married. He’d told her over and over that he wanted to take care of her, but she’d proved that she could take care of herself. She was proud of the business she’d started and the success she’d had. She had no intention of giving it up because she no longer needed the money she made from it.

Two messages had come in during the afternoon. One from Addison, wishing her good luck on her evening with Nathan. The second was from Thomas McCann at Biella’s. She’d called him earlier, hoping against hope that he’d had some luck selling the pieces that hadn’t sold at the Baton Rouge show. He’d been out, so she’d had to leave a message. Crossing her fingers, she listened.

“Emma, I’m glad you called. I have good news. We’ve sold all the new stuff you brought us. The buyers mentioned seeing your work at a recent charity event. I have a check for almost $11,000 waiting for you. And we’d really like it if you’d bring us more of your jewelry.”

In stunned disbelief, Emma ended the call. She set the phone on the dresser, scarcely able to wrap her head around what she’d heard. She’d done it. She’d met her goal by the deadline.

She would get her trust fund back. She could remodel her loft. Buy new equipment. Secure studio space. Market her designs and grow her business.

She was no longer obligated to marry Nathan.

Emma’s stomach muscles clenched in distress.

She loved Nathan. She might not have come to terms with marrying a man who couldn’t or wouldn’t love her, but she’d accepted that she was going to honor the bet with her father.

Now everything was different. She was free to choose whether or not to marry Nathan.

In some ways, things had gotten much worse. Free will left her wide open to mistakes.

Before coming here tonight, she’d accepted that he didn’t love her and had grown ac

customed to the idea of marrying him anyway. No, more than that, a part of her wanted to be his wife. She couldn’t imagine living without him.

But if she followed her heart and married him, would she eventually grow dissatisfied and spend the rest of her life angry at herself and resenting him? All she needed was some sign, some admission, that his feelings for her were stronger than affection.

And if he didn’t love her? Was she prepared to walk away?

She stared around the bedroom. Nathan had staged the perfect romantic scene with roses, candles and chocolate-covered strawberries. She took in the unmade bed, where they’d spent the afternoon in sensual decadence, and the red roses on the dresser.

Instead of opening into full blossoms, the buds drooped on their sturdy stems. Emma knew the flowers were dying. They’d looked so beautiful, so perfect this afternoon when she and Nathan had first entered the lavish suite. But their loveliness had been an illusion. They were never going to last.