Thin Ice (27 page)

"Move out of the way, Emily,” Eric said so coldly and quietly she couldn't mistake his intent.

"Eric, there's no need for—"

"There's every need,” Eric interrupted, his eyes never leaving Cordel. “And Cordel understands that. Now move."

He was going to fight. She couldn't believe it. Here. Over her. Over nothing. “Eric. Please. We were just talking."

He looked at her then, looked through her, it seemed. Eventualy his focus returned and the dark fury in his eyes died down. “I see,” he said stiffly, almost formaly. “Wel, when you're finished, I'l be in the balroom."

balroom."

"Eric—"

She started after him, but Cordel caught her arm again. “Let him go, Emily, he's only trying to make you feel—"

She shook him off, hard. “Oh, grow up and get a life, wil you?"

Cordel flushed deeply, but Emily didn't care. She left him alone in the halway and went after Eric.

His fury barely contained, Cordel watched her folow Cameron into the balroom. A long minute later, he smiled. Peter Cordel's day wasn't complete unless he'd caused Eric Cameron some kind of trouble. Tonight, with Emily, he realized he'd hit the jackpot. The bitch had to have her hooks in Cameron, deep, to get him to back off like that. Cordel's smile widened as he realized the power that gave him. Over them both.

The former Mrs. Ryan Montgomery wasn't the only one with interesting skeletons rattling around in her closet. Cameron had a few that, when his precious Emily found out about them, would blow their touching little romance to bits.

Cordel knew exactly how to light the fuse.

Whistling, he folowed his latest quarry into the balroom.

* * * *

Eric's emotions churned as he watched the band warm up. Seeing Emily with Cordel had snapped something inside him. Without warning, he'd flashed back to another banquet, where he'd spotted his wife in deep conversation with a man she'd claimed to hate.

Then Cordel had touched Emily, and the memory of Monica's betrayal had washed over Eric like acid. Before he'd known it, he'd been halfway across the room, primed to tear Cordel to pieces.

Only the fact that he refused to mow Emily down to get to the bastard had kept him from making a complete fool of himself.

Damn it. He had to pul himself together. Emily wasn't Monica.

Cordel wasn't Granger.

"Are we stil going to dance?"

Eric looked down to see Emily standing beside him. What the hel had she been talking to Cordel so intently about? He'd quit hockey before he asked. He looked back at the band. “Probably not."

"Listen, Eric. About what happened earlier. I'm sorry I walked out on—"

"Forget it. It's over."

She touched his sleeve. “Please, I'd like to explain."

"Not now, Emily. I'm feeling a little too raw for explanations right now.” He needed to get his emotions back in harness. Maybe he'd only imagined the tension between Cordel and Emily at dinner.

only imagined the tension between Cordel and Emily at dinner.

Maybe he'd alowed his own dislike for the man to skew his perceptions.

Yeah, and maybe pigs flew.

"I didn't leave the balroom with him, Eric. He folowed me. He was waiting for me when I came out of the ladies room."

He looked down at her, and wondered how she could be so calm when he was faling apart inside. “Why?"

"To spite you. He told me you were too busy to bother with me after winning your award and tried to convince me to leave with him."

"Would you have?"

Her eyes flashed fire. “That doesn't even deserve an answer."

"Then why did you protect him?"

Emily stared. “Protect him? I wasn't protecting him. If anyone, I was protecting you."

Eric snorted. “I can take care of myself, Emily."

"No kidding,” she snapped. “The point is, Cordel was using me to provoke you into losing your temper. To embarrass you in front of the same people who applauded you as you accepted an award the same people who applauded you as you accepted an award he'l never come within ten miles of receiving and he knows it. I wasn't about to let that happen."

Eric stared at her, stunned. But as he looked into her eyes and saw she meant every furious word, his pain receded. His ghosts faded.

Emily wasn't Monica, not by a long shot. Monica would have leapt at the chance to have two men fighting over her in public.

The band struck up a romantic balad. Shaking his head at his own stupidity, Eric held out his hand. “Dance with me?"

"Why didn't you tel me you were getting an award tonight?” Emily asked during their third dance.

Eric smiled against her temple. She felt so good nestled against him.

So warm and soft and incredibly sexy. He wished they were alone.

He was having trouble keeping his hands from roaming. “I wasn't supposed to know. I got the word last week when I sent my regrets. The committee apparently decided it wasn't kosher to have me not show up."

"You weren't planning to be here tonight?"

"I didn't have a date."

She looked up at him. “But you told me Stump..."

"I stretched the truth. He wanted the team here, but I wanted you here with me more.” He smiled softly. “I wanted to see your face when you found out I wasn't exactly the poor excuse for a human when you found out I wasn't exactly the poor excuse for a human being you thought I was when we met."

Embarrassed, Emily pressed her cheek against his chest. “I'm sorry I freaked out when they announced your name."

He tightened his arms around her. “I should have warned you."

"I think that would have made it worse."

The music started again, another slow number. Eric let the conversation go, needing to hold Emily more than he needed to talk.

She was with him now, and that was al that mattered.

"I meant what I said the other night about finding you some contacts to help out with the shelter,” Eric said as they relaxed at their table during the band's second break.

Emily felt a twinge of guilt. She'd been having so much fun dancing with Eric she'd forgotten her plans to solicit support for Harmony House. “I'd like that,” she said, and smiled as he traced a long finger up and down her forearm. The tingles reached al the way to her toes. “But how many people here do you know wel enough to approach?"

He looked up at her, his eyes gleaming mischief. “Doesn't matter.

As of tonight, they know me.” He stood and reached for her hand.

“C'mon. Let's get some mileage out of this award."

They mingled, Eric introducing Emily to people he'd scoped out They mingled, Eric introducing Emily to people he'd scoped out earlier as likely candidates for financial contributors to Harmony House. He soon discovered that Dr. Emily Jordan was no rookie when it came to the fine art of fundraising. When invited to, she stated her case with a minimum of fuss, and seemed to know exactly what to say to whom and when to back off.

The only awkward moment he sensed was when he introduced her to Ronald Stump—who appeared to have eased up on his trips to the bar—and his daughter, Catherine. Emily seemed to falter as Stump in turn introduced her to the couple standing beside him, Dr.

and Mrs. John Montgomery.

It was Catherine who gracefuly stepped into the weird silence that folowed, with a compliment on Emily's dress. As the two women talked, Catherine's charisma once again impressed Eric. They'd met several times, and each time he'd come away with the feeling that behind her warm smile and inteligent eyes lived a woman who knew what she wanted out of life and how to get it.

What baffled him was why she'd want Ryan Montgomery. He'd only met Catherine's fiancé twice, but disliked the man intensely.

For one, Eric didn't trust him. Or his obvious disdain for the sport Catherine devoted herself to promoting—and the way he kept his disdain hidden from her. Montgomery waited until she was out of earshot to take pot shots at the players.

But Eric didn't care what Catherine's fiancé thought of him or his sport. It was Catherine's opinion that counted, and it was Catherine sport. It was Catherine's opinion that counted, and it was Catherine who had kept the Saints in the running when not even the team had cared enough to show up for the games. Oh, they were there physicaly, but mentaly—totaly out of the arena. Catherine's promotional campaign had drawn the crowds to Stump Arena long before the team had finaly gotten its act together, and now she had their fan base practicaly bursting at the seams with support for a team that nobody but Stump had thought could make it in a town that already had a decent team. After al, the Wild had made it as far as the Western Finals before the Saints came along.

For her sheer determination alone Catherine had Eric's undying admiration, no matter what kind of slime she wanted to marry.

"Dr. Jordan and I met earlier, in the powder room,” Catherine told her father. But I didn't realize she was here on behalf of Harmony House. Please, tel us more. I might know of some people who could help."

Stump echoed his daughter's invitation, but the woman who stood beside Catherine—Montgomery's mother, Eric gathered—seemed to retreat into a world of her own. The lights were on, but nobody was home. Montgomery's father, on the other hand, sipped his Manhattan and rudely scanned the room while Emily spoke.

When Catherine promised to pass the information on to her contacts, Emily smoothly offered her several of the shelter's business cards, “In case your contacts need more information."

Eric smiled. She'd been slipping those little cards into people's Eric smiled. She'd been slipping those little cards into people's hands for the past hour.

The group disbanded as their hostess breezed by with the news the late night snack was ready to be served.

"That was some pitch you gave Stump and company, Dr. Jordan.

I'm impressed,” Eric said after he and Emily had left the buffet line and found a quiet corner table.

"I just hope they got the message.” She bit into her ham and cheese croissant. “Mmmmm, this is great. I was starving."

"I'm glad to see your appetite's returned."

She smiled wryly. “It seems I spent the first half of the evening worried about nothing."

It was true. Her bizarre encounter with her former in-laws had made it clear to Emily that Robbie was safe. John and Patricia Montgomery had no desire to associate with her on any level again.

The tip-off had been John. Other than a barely civil nod when Stump had introduced them, he'd pretended she didn't exist.

In turn, she'd made sure Patricia knew help was available should she ever decide to break free of her husband. Catherine Stump's support had been an unexpected bonus. Not to mention her silence on the delicate matter of Emily's former relationship to Ryan.

Clearly, the woman wasn't one to dwel on the past.

Al in al, Emily was more than pleased with the evening's outcome.

She was also relieved to find she no longer felt the gut-clenching fear of Ryan's parents that she once had. Only pity.

"Thank you,” she said.

Eric looked up from his plate. “For what?"

Taking his hand, she brought it to her lips. “For not letting me weasel out of coming here tonight. I needed this."

His eyes darkened to brown velvet. “And I need you."

As soon as the door snicked shut behind them they were in each other's arms. Hunger fueled hunger as their mouths met and mated, their hands raced to remove the clothing between them. Not once did it occur to them to slow down; they'd wasted too much time already. Their need to become one again was paramount, the fire between them too hot to extinguish any other way.

Naked, Emily felt Eric's mattress hit the backs of her knees.

Greedily she puled him down on top of her. Over and over they roled, tongues, arms and legs tangling, and ended up with Emily secure between Eric and the bed at her back. His fingers found her hot and wet, hers found him hot and hard. She opened to meet him as he plunged inside.

as he plunged inside.

They came almost immediately, their cries of release echoing in the apartment's stilness. Afterward, muscles stil quivering, nerve endings stil dancing, they lay in breathless silence, stunned by the force of their passion. Sweat glistened on their bodies, the slick moisture cooling their heated skin as the dark night air wrapped them in its embrace.

Emily smiled. The apartment was pitch black. Eric hadn't even let go of her long enough to flip on a light switch.

"I'm sorry,” he said against her neck. I didn't mean to jump you like that."

She smoothed her palms against his damp, taut back. “I did."

He lifted his head. “You did?"

She unlocked her legs from around his waist. “Why do you think I wore a dress with no buttons?"

"But sweetheart, we didn't..."

"Use protection? Yes we did. I visited my gynecologist yesterday."

Silence, then: “You mean al night, under that mouth-watering dress, you've been wearing a—"

Her fingers on his lips shushed him. “I mean al night, I've been Her fingers on his lips shushed him. “I mean al night, I've been looking forward to being with you, with nothing between us.” Sliding her fingers into his hair, she drew him down to her for a long, leisurely kiss. “Now, Mr. Cameron, why don't you turn on the light and show me what you did have planned for tonight and we'l see whose fantasy we like best?"

* * * *