Everything else faded to black.
Pressure weighed on his chest. The idea of leaving Emmy and Laine was almost too much to fucking bear. Would Emmy forget him?
“Nice. I’ll give them a call when we get home.” They chatted for a few more minutes before he ended the call just as Laine stepped out of the ensuite bath.
Her hair spilled over her shoulders in wet tangles, and her face was glowing and pink. A towel was wrapped around her, the end folded between her breasts. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just gotta get us a place in Pittsburgh before we go to bed.” His gaze roamed over her sleek, toned legs. His fingers itched to strip the terry cloth from her body, but he stayed rooted to the chair.
It was fucked that their future was so uncertain. That he couldn’t try for something more serious with Laine. Couldn’t take care of her and Emmy the way they should be taken care of.
“Roarke?”
She’d crossed the room while he’d fallen into a torrent of thoughts. Her bare knee nudged against his jeans.
Instinctively, he cupped the back of her thigh and stared at her beautifully carved face. The dampness of her hair darkened her locks, sharpening the contrast to her milky skin. Long, dark eyelashes encased her emerald eyes. Eyes that were so familiar they represented home, yet also represented every mistake he’d ever made.
He stroked his thumb over her satiny hamstring. God, he wanted to see this woman every day. To touch her. Wake up with her. Protect and provide.
Goddamn.
She brought her fingers to his hair and gently stroked. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop,” she commanded.
He chuckled. “Oh yeah?”
She grinned. “Yeah.” Pausing, she moved to the bedroom door, locked it, and came back satisfied. Opening the towel, she dropped it to the ground.
He let out a groan as her sleek, naked body straddled him. Her warm hands closed around his jaw, and her lips pressed against his.
He drank in her taste and scent, letting himself be intoxicated by Laine. In a few weeks, he’d miss this.
Miss her.
Right now, he’d soak in every fucking second.
Laine stirred.Her cheek was nestled against Roarke’s chest, and sweat made her stick to him. He exhaled low and deep, his breath near her ear.
The pink light peeking through the curtains confirmed it was dawn.
She’d fallen asleep with Roarke after they’d made love, and she’d need to sneak into bed with Emmy before she woke up. Probably best to do that now.
Tomorrow was a big day for them—Emmy especially.
She shifted off the bed carefully. Roarke turned his face toward the wall and relaxed again. Padding to the door, intense thirst brought her downstairs where she grabbed a bottle of water from the counter. Maybe she could sleep a little longer once she got to Emmy’s bed.
She made her way back toward the living room where the stairs stretched almost to the front door. The large, frosted glass window on the door let in a streaks of early morning light.
A shadow blocked the daylight, and she froze.
The shadow didn’t move. A soft clicking sound at the lock turned her blood to ice. Fight-or-flight kicked in.
She ran upstairs. Every footfall like thunder to her ears.
Instinct made her turn toward Emmy’s room, but then she quickly pivoted to the master. “Roarke,” she whispered, clamping her hand on his shoulder.
He jolted into a sitting position. His bleary eyes blinked rapidly.
“Someone’s at the door.” The acrid taste of panic burned her tongue.
