"Thanks." Watching him, she sipped her wine. "I guess we've got other things to talk about, too."
"Where do you want to start?"
"I keep thinking it's a lot, but I realized it really comes down to two things, and they both grow out of one root. We're friends. We are friends, aren't we, Jack?"
"We're friends, Emma."
"So the first thing is I think friends should tell each other the truth. Be honest. If we realize, after tonight, that it's just not what we expected-or if either of us feel like, well, that was nice, but I'm finished-we should be able to say so. No hard feelings."
Reasonable, straightforward, and without sticky edges or invisible strings. Perfect. "I can go with that."
"The second is staying friends." Worry wove through the words as she watched him. "That's the most important thing. Whatever happens, however it works out, we need to promise each other we'll be friends. Not just for you and me, but for everyone we're connected to. We can say it's just sex, Jack, but sex isn't a just. Or it shouldn't be. We like each other. We care about each other. I don't want anything to change that."
He brushed a hand down her hair. "Blood oath or pinky swear?" he asked and made her laugh. "I can promise you that, Emma. Because you're right. Friends." He eased over to kiss her cheeks, one, then the other, before rubbing his lips lightly over hers.
"Friends." She repeated the gesture so they stood, lips a breath apart, eyes locked. "Jack? How did we ever keep from doing this all these years?"
"Hell if I know." He touched his lips to hers again, then took her hand. "We were at the beach," he said as he led her to the stairs.
"What?"
"We'd gone to the beach for a week. All of us. A friend of Del's lent us his place-his parents' place, I guess-in the Hamptons. It was the summer before you started this place."
"Yes. I remember. We had the best time."
"One morning early, I couldn't sleep, so I walked down to the beach. And I saw you. For a minute-just a second or two, really-I didn't realize it was you. You were wearing this long scarf thing tied around your waist, lots of wild colors, and it blew around your legs. You had on a red bathing suit under it."
"You . . ." She literally had to catch her breath. "You remember what I was wearing?"
"Yes, I do. And I remember your hair was longer than it is now, halfway down your back. All those mad curls flying. Bare feet. All that golden skin, wild colors, mad curls. My heart just stopped. I thought: That's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. And I wanted that woman, in a way I'd never wanted one before."
He stopped, turned a little as she simply stared at him. "Then I saw it was you. You walked off, down the beach, the surf foaming up over your bare feet, your ankles, your calves. And I wanted you. I thought I'd lost my mind."
She wouldn't be able to catch her breath much longer, she realized. Wouldn't be able to think. Wouldn't want to be able to think.
"If you'd walked down to me, looked at me the way you're looking at me now, you'd have had me."
"Worth waiting for." He kissed her long, slow, deep, then walked with her into the bedroom. "Nice," he said, noting the flowers, the candles.
"Even friends should fuss a little, I think." Because it would calm her, and set the mood, she picked up the lighter, wandered the room setting candles to flame.
"Nicer." He smiled when she switched on the music.
She turned to him, with the room between them. "I'm going to be honest with you, Jack-as promised. I have a weakness for romance, the trappings, the gestures. I also have a weakness for passion, the quick and the crazed. I'll take you either way. And tonight, you can take me, any way you want."
With those words, with Emma standing in candlelight, he was utterly seduced.
He crossed to her, and she to him so they met in the center of the room. He combed his fingers through her hair, drawing it back from her face, lowering his lips to hers slowly. Tonight, he would do all in his power to exploit all her weaknesses.
She gave, her body soft in surrender to echo the kiss. Warmth layered on warmth, longing wrapped in anticipation. When he swept her up to carry her to the bed, those dark eyes went slumberous.
"I want to touch you everywhere I've dreamed of touching you." Slowly, he slid his hand under her dress, along her thigh. "Everywhere."
He kissed her again, hints of greed now, of possession, while his fingers feathered over her skin, over the lace that barely covered her. She bowed up at his touch, offering more.
His lips trailed down her throat in whispers as he slid the sweater down her arms. Then in a fast, rough move, he flipped her over to graze his teeth over her shoulder. When he straddled her to ease down the zipper at the back of her dress, she looked over her shoulder. Her smile was full of secrets.