The elevator dinged and she walked through the door and into a wall of muscle. Her breath went out in an oompf and she looked up into Emerson’s clear hazel eyes.
“Where are you going?” The accusation in his voice sobered her and shifted the warm feelings she’d been having for her rescuer to something much colder.
She fought the urge to stamp her feet and declare he wasn’t the boss of her, but the cedarwood scent of his aftershave reminded her what it felt like to have his body covering her, shielding her from the flying bullets. He’d put himself between her and danger; she could forgive a little bossiness. His grip on her arms tightened, and she blinked, trying to clear her thoughts, which would be a thousand times easier with a couple of inches of space between them.
She took a step back, and Emerson let go of her, as if he’d been scalded. But it was her skin that still felt the heat from his touch. If anyone was getting burned, it would be her. Not that she was complaining. The opposite was true. Now that he’d let her go, all she could think of was how to get his hands on her again. And then he opened his mouth, and the feelings changed again.
“Answer me, Sophie.”
“I was looking for you.” She muttered theassunder her breath. A little bit bossy was one thing, controlling asshole was another matter entirely. “I wasn’t aware I was your prisoner.”
“You know you’re not. Jesus.” He ran his hand through his hair in a gesture she’d started to recognize as something he did when he was frustrated. He did it a lot around her. She watched his chest rise and fall as he took a breath and let it out again. She could almost picture him counting to himself as some kind of coping mechanism. “Until we know who tried to kill you and why, it’s not safe for you to go running around unprotected.”
She’d been prepared to be indignant, but the way his eyes creased when he said the wordkillwas nothing compared to the way her chest tightened. She hadn’t lied to him in the hospital when she told him she wasn’t one of those women who went looking for danger. She’d had enough of it come into her life without looking for it and lost enough people to know how fragile life could be. And she wasn’t trying to make things difficult for him either.
“You didn’t have any tea.” Her voice sounded small, as if the enormity of her current situation was making her shrink in on herself. That wasn’t right either. She might not go looking for trouble, but she never shrank from a challenge. Sophie was a survivor. She’d proved that multiple times over, starting with making a life for herself after her brother died.
“What?” His face softened on the question and she could tell he was rethinking a few things too.
“Tea,” she said, standing up straighter. “I couldn’t find any, so I was coming to find you to tell you I was going out. I wasn’t running away.”
“I’m a lousy host. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you trapped up here by yourself. I could have at least taken the time to show you around or come back to the apartment earlier.”
“Don’t be silly. You had work to do. I’m not helpless.” She felt helpless. It didn’t sit well with her.
“You can’t go out by yourself. Not yet,” he added, holding his hands up in front of him. “But we can go out and pick up a couple of things to make you more comfortable and maybe grab an early lunch.” He paused for a minute and she could tell he was wrestling with something. “Unless you’d rather stay with Gabe and Berlin.” He looked as if it hurt him to say the words, and she pushed aside any feelings of insecurity she might be having. Whatever else might be going on in his head, he didn’t want her to stay with his brother.
“Not a chance.”
“Let’s go then.” He hit the elevator button for the ground floor and flashed her an unexpected smile.
She intended to expend some energy figuring out other ways to put that look on his face.
––––––––
THEY’D CRUISED THEaisles of Whole Foods, filling the basket with English Breakfast, Earl Grey, and an assortment of healthier than expected frozen dinners. She hadn’t needed the trip to the grocery store to tell her Emerson didn’t spend any more time cooking than she did, which was fine. It wasn’t that she was cooking adverse. There were always just so many things she’d rather spend her time and energy on. After her mom died—even before that, when she’d gotten sick—she and her brother had to fend for themselves. Noah tried but he barely managed a decent pea and ham soup. When he left for school, she hadn’t even bothered with that. More often than not, dinner had been Vegemite on toast or a bowl of Coco Pops. She’d never gotten in the habit of making more than the occasional chicken breast.
At her request, they’d gone from the grocery to the jewelry store. If she was going to be stuck hiding out, she needed to be able to work. Emerson already said he’d provide security for her for the Seaton trunk show, but she couldn’t expect him or his guys to shadow her the rest of the time. His kitchen table wasn’t as good as her bench but with an extra light and her tools, she’d be able to finish the bridal set she’d been working on.
She paused outside the door to the shop, her hand hovering over the knob she’d turned hundreds of times before. It wasn’t like she remembered the attack. The last thing she remembered was deciding on fries for dinner. But she didn’t need the actual memories to make her stomach feel queasy at coming back to the scene of the crime.
“You okay?” Emerson rested his hand on the small of her back, his body a warm, steady presence behind her.
“Sorry.” She shook her head, trying to clear away the feelings. “Just got spooked for a minute. I’m fine.”
She pushed open the door and heard the chime sound in the back of the store. Connie came through the doorway from the workroom, wearing a smile and a navy sheath dress that would make Sophie look like a ballpoint pen. It had the opposite effect on her boss, accentuating her curves in exactly the right way. Sophie watched her boss’s eyes widen in interest at Emerson standing behind her. She could look at him. She didn’t want to know if he was looking at Connie with the same kind of interest.
Of course, he was. She was gorgeous. A man would have to be blind not to notice that. Sophie looked like a teenage boy next to her.
“Oh, honey.” She hurried around the counter and wrapped Sophie in a jasmine scented hug and made her feel like an ass for her thoughts about her and Emerson. “I was so worried about you. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Honest.” Sophie’s eyes pricked with tears and she blinked to keep from embarrassing herself. It felt good to have Connie fuss over her. So good she resisted the urge to point out the fact that it made her boss seem like a mother hen. She knew how much she’d hate that.
“Did they find the guy? I haven’t heard a thing from the police since I answered their questions at the hospital. Is it safe for you to be out in public?”
“We’re just making a quick stop,” said Emerson, stepping out from behind Sophie.
She tried to ignore the way Connie tipped her head and leaned forward slightly. It was the same posture she used when she was trying to charm some guy into buying a bigger diamond for his wife.
