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“YOU ARE SO old,” Emma laughed, when the song Grayson requested sounded from the speakers. Although it was dated, the crowd went wild for the then popular song, and Grayson enjoyed the surprised look their reaction gave Emma.
He grabbed her hand and spun her in a circle. Her laughter floated all the way around them like ribbon twining them together. She landed back against his chest, her fingers clinging to his shirt momentarily. A shy smile made it across her lips, and before he could sink too much into the deepening of her blue eyes, he spun her away, setting her free to move with the music.
Izzy and Abby were in their own world beside them. Every so often, their attentions would make its way back to Emma and Grayson, but mostly they laughed and danced by themselves. Melissa continued to disappear back to their table, where she was more interested in her cell phone then her dancing friends. That left Emma all to Grayson, and he didn’t mind one bit.
With the music blaring, it left little room to talk...which for the two of them was good. Less talking and less fighting, more laughing and dancing. She was a good team dancer and sometimes a silly, lone dancer. Now her arms were flailed about, he was sure that dance didn’t have a name, and she hadn’t a clue how slightly ridiculous she looked.
When the song ended and another one started, Emma landed against him, and wrapping her arms around his neck. Her extra bounce sent them both backwards a few steps. He caught her waist with his arm to keep her steady. Her giggle was magical. It stopped short when her eyes found his and he knew why.
Holding her like this sent desire straight through him, and he hadn’t had time to blink it away before she saw.
Damn it. He was trying his hardest to keep this platonic, especially after admitting to her that her nonsexual feelings were one of the things he liked about her. Friends.
Emma’s teeth found her worried lips again and her hands slid down his front, gripping his shirt. He held her tightly against him, when he shouldn’t. When he’d promised her he understood their boundaries.
For the first time in his life, Grayson wished his past hadn’t required him to set boundaries. He wished this woman could look at him and see more than the string of ladies he’d bedded. He wished she wasn’t terrified of becoming the next on his list. If only she could simply look at him, and appreciate the fun they’d had tonight. The laughter and jokes they had shared and that he never did with people outside his family. Not like this, not this genuine.
Just like everyone kept saying it would, his past caught up with him, and there was not a damn thing he could do about it now.
“I need a break!” she hollered over the music. Her smile was forced, not reaching her eyes.
She needed a break all right...from him.
When he loosened his grip, she scampered away like a terrified kitten. He did that. He scared her.
Alone on the dance floor, he took the moment to gain his composure, before his large steps caught up to her. He felt angry and sad, but he didn’t understand why either had invaded his body. Those were feelings reserved for someone who cared and he made it a point to not care about women. What the hell was all this caring?
“Melissa!” Emma shouted, as they approached the table.
Melissa waved her off, turned and left, still busy on her phone.
Emma turned to Grayson. “Was it something I said?” she joked, but again, it was forced.
She couldn’t deny there was a pull between them. She’d never let it show, but maybe his aunt had been right and both he and Emma had been building walls to keep the lust at bay.
Lust was a better word to describe what was happening between them. Maybe he was going about this all wrong. He should just stop assuming something was wrong with him, and accept that his lust for her was clouding his mind. He was simply ready to finish what they had started in his cabin. The fact she wasn’t the type of woman to do so, was the foundation of his frustration.
Liar.
He knew the difference, but he was going to do a kickass job at ignoring it.
Emma put some physical distance between them, walking to the opposite side of the small table. She placed her elbows on the surface and held her head in her hands, giving him a strange look.
“You’re a good dancer,” she said. “A very good dancer.” She sounded surprised.
“You aren’t too bad either.”
“No, I’m great. I know so. I have years of dance certificates to prove it.”
Grayson laughed and stepped away from the table. “What was this then, Ms. Professional?” He tried to mimic her flailing arms and she went into a fit of laughter.
“Stop it! You’re doing it wrong.” She came around the table and grabbed each arm with her hands. “Like this,” she guided his arms through the air. He hoped she didn’t expect him to pay attention, not when her fingers were gliding so gracefully over his bare forearm. He was thankful he’d thrown off his jacket and rolled his sleeves up to experience this sweetness.
When she finished, Emma had the biggest grin on her face. “I totally just made that up.” She laughed. “I was just going with the flow out there. No name for my awesome moves.”
“You think those moves were awesome?” he teased.
“More awesome than your choice in music.” Emma resumed her spot across from him.
“You thirsty?” Grayson asked.
“Parched. For water,” she said.
“I will make you a deal. I will grab us a couple of waters if you request the next song, so I have some backup to use against you each time you throw my song choice in my face.”
“Deal.” She held her hand out and he shook it.
“Choose wisely,” he warned. “I’ll be right back.”
Emma nodded and her attention went back to the dance floor.
Grayson ordered two waters at the bar, then glanced back over his shoulder in Emma’s direction, still feeling the tingling of her touch all over him. She was a bundle of surprises, and more outgoing than he had given her credit.
Then Grayson’s eyes landed on another woman, stopping all his thoughts about Emma cold. Prickles of anger pierced him. For a short-lived moment he thought he was dreaming−having a nightmare−yes, this moment would definitely classify as night sweats, all out screaming, body-wrenching nightmare.
He’d been having more fun this evening than he’d had in years, and now, out of the blue, like punishment for his behavior today, his ex-wife loomed before him.
“Hi Grayson,” Samantha purred.
Oh Lord, the nightmare was real.
Grayson didn’t bother with a hello, turning back to the bar, and wishing his mother had access to a random bolt of lightning at this very moment. Striking Samantha or himself, he wasn’t fussy, as long as it ended whatever was about to unfold.
“Don’t be like that Grayson.” He felt her possessive hand touch his shoulder and his body burned with anger through the material.
He shot her a look that, even with her cool persistence, made her slowly retract her hand.
Samantha hadn’t changed much over the years. Still modern, as she’d been six years ago, sleek and elegant, like the white, crisp halter-top jumpsuit that swooshed at her feet now, baring plenty of her smooth olive skin. She was gorgeous, primed to perfection and he wouldn’t doubt that even if she hadn’t needed it, she’d surgically plumped her lips and had facial injections around that seductive smile. She was too perfect.
Samantha leaned her arms on the bar, mimicking Grayson’s position. “It’s been six years Grayson. Bygones and all.”
Bygones? Was she serious?
“You’re wasting your breath.” His harsh tone reverberated around them and while most would take the hint and walk away, Samantha moved in closer. The side of her bare arm brushed against his, sending another round of fury into his blood line. Her touch revolted him.
“I would love to catch up with you.” He felt like bait to her bigger plan. “It hasn’t been the same without you, Grayson. I miss you.”
She missed the idea of money and the title, not the man who offered it to her.
Leaning even closer, she named off her cabin and floor, which wasn’t that far from his, and then her mouth moved to his ear. “We had some good times Grayson...”
Didn’t they scan who boarded these cruises?
Grayson’s drinks arrived. Ignoring the strange looks Samantha cast at the water, he turned and his angry stare met her amused anticipation. She made him furious.
He lowered his tone, preparing to walk away, making her a distant dot in his life, and he growled, “Yes, before you screwed my father.” It had been another ironic moment in his life, when karma had kicked him in the ass.
***
EMMA WATCHED THE BLACK haired beauty touch Grayson, rub up against him, and whisper in his ear. Did she just nibble his earlobe, or lick it?
Suddenly, she remembered who she’d been partying with all night long: Grayson Cohen.
The same, used feelings washed through her, traveling back to the party in university, where she’d turned out to be no more than the third wheel. Not even worth his time to tell her when he was leaving.
Friends her ass.
They’d been down this path before and it had ended in a big, fat fail. Why had she thought ten years plus down the road had changed anything? Especially after the events in his cabin today.
Emma needed to leave before Grayson blew her off, again. She needed to ditch him first, get the upper hand, and never fall back into this pattern again.
She pushed her way through the crowded dance floor, which proved to be more difficult than she’d initially thought, perhaps due to consuming a little more to drink than usual. That water would have been helpful right about now, but so would a slap in the face.
She spotted the girls dancing and waved.
“Hey!” she called over the music, stepping into their dancing circle. The floor was packed now. Someone stepped on her foot and another jabbed her ribcage, punishment for having fun with a man who would only use her and throw her away.
“Hey!” Izzy and Abby yelled in unison, throwing their hands in the air and squeezing in half hugs, acting as if they hadn’t seen her all night. They’d had more to drink than her and were dancing a fine line between buzzed and drunk.
“I’m heading back to the cabin,” Emma yelled.
“Are you going back to Grayson’s cabin for some mind-blowing, headboard slamming, sex?” Izzy yelled back.
Abby jabbed Izzy in the gut and Izzy cried out in fake pain before they both busted into hysterical laughter.
“I’m going back to my cabin,” Emma said. “My cabin,” she clarified.
“Sure you are. Where’s Grayson?” Abby asked, standing on tip-toes to glance above the dancers.
Talking to some hot black-haired woman who obviously knows him...very well.
Emma shrugged.
“Waiting for you back at his cabin?” Melissa teased, coming up behind her.
When had Melissa become such a party girl? Apparently these cruises brought out of character behavior from everyone.
Izzy whistled her approval. “Oh snap. Point for Melissa.”
When Melissa declined joining Emma, she said goodnight and weaved her way off the dance floor, out the door and away from the flashing lights and loud music. The quiet, bright hallway slapped her senses awake, cold and firm, like the actuality of the real Grayson Cohen.
She started toward her cabin.
Why was she running away? She should have stayed and danced with the girls, had a good time despite Grayson’s new friend. That was why she’d gone to the club in the first place and somehow ending up spending most of the night with Grayson...and enjoying herself. It wasn’t like she liked him−she could hardly stand him−then what was bothering her?
“Emma?”
Emma’s step stumbled at the sound of Grayson running up behind her. She needed space, away from him, to clear her scattered mind.
Why was he chasing her down when he had a sexy woman to spend the rest of his evening with? A woman who would no doubt give him what he wanted: sex. Something he didn’t expect from Emma anyway...or did he? It was confusing. He was confusing.
“Hey, I thought we made a deal, a drink for a dance,” he said, stepping beside her and slowing to her pace.
Emma glanced at him, no doubt her confusion written plainly across her face. “I’m tired,” she lied.
“You’re tired?” He didn’t believe her.
“Yes.”
“You’re not tired,” he said, in a know-it-all, overconfident way that infuriated her. He didn’t know her. He didn’t know a damn thing about her and from the way he flirted at the bar, it was clear that he didn’t want to.
“What happened? I thought we were having a good time in there,” Grayson said.
He was having a good time picking up other women.
Emma stopped before they reached the piazza. It wasn’t filled as it was during the busy hours during the day, but she could still see a steady stream of people and she didn’t want to make a scene.
She turned to face Grayson, finding bewilderment where his regular condescending expression usually resided, which, in turn, confused Emma.
“Do you not know the definition of tired?” she snapped.
The bewilderment vanished and his smugness returned. Why did everything amuse him? Why was there always on smile on his face, even when the situation didn’t call for a smile?
“I may have lacked high grades in school, but I did pass. So, yes, I know the definition of tired. And, you, my darlin’ are not tired,” he said.
“You didn’t lack high grades in school, you were lazy, partying and didn’t care about getting high grades. There is a difference.”
“Thank you for the clarification of that definition.”
“And, you, my darlin’,” she mimicked his egotistical tone. “Don’t get to go making assumptions about me, as if you know me. You haven’t done the homework Grayson.”
Bitterness clouded over the sparkle of amusement in his eyes. “I haven’t done my homework?”
Was he deaf too?
“I’ve watched you from afar for years. Hiding, running away−”
“It’s better than falling into the depths of a one-night stand with you,” Emma said. “I realize I might have given you a look or two tonight, but even if you had made a move, I won’t sleep with you.”
His eyes turned a deep, smoky shade of emerald. “You’re right, we’re not close enough to assume we know each other. That line of bullshit out of your mouth only comes from people who don’t know me. Clearly ‘friends’ isn’t in the cards for us.”
“What are you saying? You don’t sleep around?” She found that impossible to believe.
“Not more than any single guy.”
“What type of singly guy are you referring to? A normal single guy or your dad?” She knew her mistake the second the words left her lips. Their families were merging companies and she had just called his dad a manwhore. Lord, she needed to get a grip before she ruined this deal and gave her family a bad reputation in the business world.
Insulting Grayson was one thing, they’d been doing it their whole lives, but dragging his father in, and in such a disrespectful manner, was improper. It would no doubt stem “that look” from Marc. Oh, how she hated that look.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, holding her hands over her lips in vain attempt to avoid any more business-ending outbursts.
He held his hands up and took a step back. “You’re only saying now what you don’t have the nerve to say when you’re sober.”
“Grayson, I’m not drunk. Barely buzzed. I know the difference and I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Because you don’t believe it or because it’s not appropriate?”
Emma bit her lower lip, unable to lie and not daring to tell the truth.
“Rain cheque on the water and dance.” He stormed past her, the smell of his cologne making her stomach flip.
Settle down, you’ve botched everything up now.
Emma didn’t even debate what that thought meant like he would ever sleep with her anyway.
She needed coffee, a Tylenol and her bed.