"Stay with me tonight," he said. His thumb brushed across her lips.
"I can't. I left all my lights on. If I don't come home until the morning someone will notice, and trust me, in Egret Pointe there will be questions, if not a cop car checking to see if I'm all right. I like that what we have is private, is ours alone."
"What do we have?" he asked her, wondering what the hell had possessed him to voice his own insecurities.
"Whatever you want, Devlin," Emily answered him. She slipped from his arms and, getting up, went into the bathroom.
He lay quietly listening as the shower ran again. A few minutes later she returned, dressed, and, giving him a quick kiss, was gone from the bedroom. He heard the cottage door close behind her, and then the vroom of her Healy as she pulled away and drove off down the long driveway to the two-lane country road that would take her back home again. He loved her. Oh, yeah, he loved her. He had tried, but he couldn't get a handle on how she might really feel about him. Were there still women in this world who could fall in love with the first man who boffed them? Or was he merely a research helper to Emily Shanski? The thought of any other man making love to her set his pulse pounding with anger. He loved her, but could he reasonably expect her to love him back? He didn't know. Michael Devlin had never before found himself in this kind of situation.
And as she drove Emily was wondering the same thing. He had said at one point, "I adore you." Did that mean love? He had asked her what they had. Was he testing her to be certain that she wouldn't embarrass him by girlishly declaring emotions for him that he could not reciprocate? For the first time in her life Emily Shanski regretted her lack of experience with a man. With love. She had never had a crush on anyone growing up. She had never had her heart broken, even once, because she was so busy trying hard not to be like her mother and her father. Maybe just once she could have thrown caution to the wind, but then the thought of the grans disappointment had always stopped her.
They had given up their middle years and their old age to bring her up. To love her and raise her to be the kind of person they had wanted Katy and Joe to be. But their own children had, in one foolish action, thrown aside the morality they had been raised to have. Only the grans cool heads and logic, along with the respect of all of Egret Pointe, had saved the day for them all. Had saved her, Emily thought. Yes, her parents had been married when she had been born. But they had been given a quick annulment with the cooperation of a local judge before Thanksgiving vacation. And everyone in town knew why they had married. If it weren't for the grans, Emily Shanski would have had a far more difficult life.
Emily didn't even dare consider what her grandmothers would think of these past three months. My God, after tonight, what hadn't she done with Michael Devlin? The thought, though sobering, still brought a grin to her face. It had been exciting in a taboo sort of way, but anal sex wasn't something she was anxious to repeat-even with her duke. Was she up to the Channel tonight, after what had happened? No, she was not. She was going to go home to bed, and go to sleep. After she had some Forbidden Chocolate ice cream. For some reason she suddenly needed chocolate in the worst way. She turned onto Founders Way, and drove straight down the street into her driveway. Her cell phone began to ring as she got out of the car. Smiling, she answered it. "I'm just home. Do you have radar, Devlin?"
"Are you in the house?"
"I'm opening the kitchen door now," she told him as she turned the key and walked into her house, closing and locking the door behind her. "I'm in and locked."
"Can I come over?" he asked her plaintively.
"No. I want a good night's sleep. Tomorrow's a workday for me. Good night, Devlin. Sleep tight. My pussy and I will be thinking of you." She made kissing noises into the telephone.
"My cock and I will be thinking of you both too," he promised, and made kissing noises back at her. "Good night, angel face." He clicked off.
Emily sighed. Why did love have to hurt so damned much?
August seemed to fly by. It was a hot and dry month. Devlin was at her house for breakfast on the mornings she hadn't been at the cottage overnight. They swam together at the club. He rented a small catboat for the month, and they spent afternoons out on the bay. They celebrated her birthday in bed with champagne, whipped cream, and chocolate sauce. It was clear on the peak night of the Perseid meteor showers. The moon was new, and had set by after midnight, which was the prime viewing time. They lay in a double lounge chair down on the cottage's narrow beach, watching the shooting stars. Afterward they made slow, leisurely love, dozed, and swam in the bay as the dawn broke. Emily could not remember a time in her life when she had been so utterly and completely happy.
And neither could Michael Devlin, although it was a thought he kept to himself.
Labor Day weekend Rina Seligmann insisted they join her and Sam for dinner at the club. "You've been hiding out all month," she told Emily. "You don't even answer messages, and you gave Essie all of August off, paid. How am I supposed to get my gossip if Essie isn't there?"
Emily laughed. "You aren't. This has been a private time, and even I'm entitled to one of those at least once a century. What time do you want us? Devlin is going back Sunday night to beat the Monday traffic."
"Saturday night. Eight p.m. Have you heard from Aaron?"
"I got two postcards from Capri. The last one complained that Kirk wouldn't let him stay longer, but insisted on returning to Tuscany," Emily replied.
Rina chuckled. "My brother is such a gadabout," she remarked. "I don't blame Kirk. When are they back?"
"Sunday afternoon," Emily said. "See you Saturday night."
"Do we have to go?" Michael Devlin wanted to know.
"Yep, we do," Emily answered. "Rina's my mother figure, and her brother is my agent. She's practically family. And you liked her, and Dr. Sam will keep her under control, I promise. I'm surprised she called. I thought she'd be up at Camp Cozy this weekend. Sam must be on call at the hospital."
"What's Camp Cozy?" he asked, curious.
"Rina and her neighbors on Ansley Court bought a big old house up in the mountains on a lake twenty-five years ago. The women used to go up every summer with their kids. The kids named it Camp Cozy. The men would come on weekends, or for a week or two in August. At least they won't all be at the club Saturday evening," she said.
They had taken his car that night. Arriving at the Egret Pointe Country Club, they were seated at a table overlooking the golf course.
"Do you play?" he wanted to know.
Emily shook her head. "I'm not particularly athletic," she replied.
"I beg to differ," he said with a small grin.
She laughed, and then she said, "Oh, hell! There's Carla Johnson and her husband, Rick. And Tiffany and Joe Pietro d'Angelo."
"Who are they?" he asked.
"Some of Rina's neighbors. Rick and Joe have a little law firm in the village," Emily explained. "But I thought they would be up at Camp Cozy. Rats! They've seen us." She returned Carla Johnson's friendly wave. "I'm going to kill Rina!"
"Why would you kill my wife?" Dr. Sam asked as he joined them. He gave Emily a kiss on her cheek.
"Everyone in town is here," Emily muttered. "I told Rina I didn't Want to have dinner at the club tonight, but how come Carla and Tiffany aren't up at your place in the mountains? Isn't this the last big weekend of the summer for Camp Cozy?"
"There's a forest fire in the mountains near the camp," Dr. Sam explained. "It's been so dry. They've got it under control, but they asked people to evacuate just to be on the safe side. The Ulrichs are in Europe," he added as an afterthought. "You know my Rina. She works the room of people like a Catskills comedian entering the lobby of his hotel. She's probably telling those two he's your editor, and you know how Carla appreciates a handsome man." He chuckled.