He was talking about people.

He was talking about them.

Emma closed her eyes and listened to the music, letting herself sink into the moment. Letting herself sink into Cassidy, his smell and his warmth, and, most alarming of all, his familiarity.

She remembered this. Not just her mind, not just her body, but her soul remembered this.

“It’s funny,” she said, turning her head so that her cheek brushed his shoulder. “This song fits so much better now than it did back then.”

His cheek brushed her hair. “I’m not sure that’s such a good thing, considering the song’s about heartbreak.”

“True,” she said, on a dreamy sigh. “It’s still beautiful, though. In a hauntingly melancholy kind of way.”

Emma realized that now she was the one talking in double meaning, although she hadn’t realized she was doing it.

The song began to build into the final chorus, and Emma felt a little jolt of panic at the realization that the dance was almost over.

And beyond the panic, a surge of shock, because she didn’t want it to end. Didn’t want to say good night to Cassidy. Didn’t want to go back to being forced, awkward strangers tomorrow.

Cassidy’s hand slid up, his palm moving over her back in a caress, and she heard his breath quicken. Their joined hands shifted again, so his thumb brushed against her palm, and she felt fireworks at the simple touch. Felt his reaction as well.

Emma knew she was in danger then. He wanted her.

And more dangerous still . . . she wanted him, too.

Chapter 21

The Plaza wasn’t all that far from her apartment . . . in different circumstances she would have walked. But at one in the morning, after standing all day in high heels and then dancing all night, there was no way her feet were carrying her that many blocks.

There was a line for cabs, and Emma wasn’t surprised when she and Cassidy wordlessly found themselves in line together.

Just like she wasn’t surprised when he slipped his jacket over her shoulders.

Nor was she surprised when he climbed into the cab after her.

She told herself sharing a cab made sense. They were neighbors.

But Emma knew this had nothing to do with practicality or convenience, and everything to do with whatever had passed between them on the dance floor.

They didn’t talk on the cab ride home.

They didn’t touch as the cab headed west on Central Park South toward that fateful moment where they’d stand beside their respective front doors and make a crucial decision.

Emma had been counting on the blast of cold air to jar her back to her senses. Had counted on the inevitable strange food smells one frequently found in New York taxis to cool her ardor.

But it was impossible to think of anything but the man beside her. The man whose tux jacket smelled like him. Spicy and sexy and Cassidy.

She turned her head just slightly under the guise of looking at Central Park, but mostly she just wanted to inhale his scent.

When she turned her head back to face the front, she saw out of the corner of her eye that he was smiling.

He knew what she was up to. But Emma couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed. She was too fuzzy from champagne, too giddy after seeing her dearest friends tie the knot.

Tonight wasn’t about the regrets and what hadn’t happened between Emma and Cassidy.

Tonight was about romance. . . .

And maybe something else she wasn’t ready to name.

Tags: Lauren Layne Sex, Love & Stiletto Romance
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