Emily: Sex and Sensibility (The Wilde Sisters 1)
“For God’s sake,” she said, “say something! Should I have worn the other—”
“Beautiful.”
His voice was low. Husky. He sounded exactly the way a woman wanted a man to sound when she’d dressed just for him.
Except, she’d reminded herself quickly, except she hadn’t dressed for him. She’d dressed for a dinner meeting. And he wasn’t a man. She wasn’t a woman. He was her employer. She was his employee.
“Thank you,” she said, a little breathlessly. “It’s the gown. The shoes. It isn’t—”
“But it is,” he said softly. “It is you, Emily. You are beautiful.”
Time seemed to do that thing everyone knew was impossible.
It stood still. And then, just when she thought she was going to tumble forward on these impossible, delicious heels and drown in Marco’s eyes, his cellphone rang.
His face darkened.
He wrenched the thing from his pocket, barked “What is it?” so harshly that she felt pity for the unfortunate soul on the other end.
He listened, nodded; his expression eased. When he disconnected, whatever had happened a moment ago was over.
“Charles is waiting.”
“Oh. I mean, good. I mean, I’m almost—” Stop babbling, Emily! He’s calm. You should be, too. “I just need to find something for my—”
“Dio, will you please stop fiddling with your hair?”
Maybe he wasn’t as calm as she’d thought. No matter. She didn’t like his tone of voice.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I said—”
“I heard what you said. I am not fiddling with it, I’m fixing it. I’m trying to figure out a way to secure it because my suitcase still hasn’t arrived and I don’t have a barrette or a band and—”
“It won’t arrive.”
“What won’t arrive?”
“Your trunk.”
“It’s a suitcase.”
“It felt like a trunk.” Marco folded his arms. “And it will not be coming.”
“Why not?”
He shrugged. Unfolded his arms. Examined his fingernails.
“I have informed Charles to return it to the plane.”
Emily’s eyes narrowed.
“I beg your—”
“If you say ‘I beg your pardon’ one more time,” he said in a low voice, “I will show you the only sure way you can beg me for whatever it is you want, cara.”
The warning flustered her. It also put a lick of flame low in her belly and she didn’t want to think about why that should have happened.