Secretly Craving You(20)

"Is he still edible?"

Emily glanced aside at Nick, taking in his broad shoulders stretching the white T-shirt. She wished she could lift it and check out his chiseled abs. Something else caught her attention—the package evident in the crotch of his jeans and his muscular thighs filling out the legs of his jeans nicely. Oh yeah. "Kinda."

"He's listening to you, isn't he?" Tia guessed.

Emily lifted her gaze to find him flicking a smoky-hot, yet enigmatic, glance at her. She quickly turned toward the window. "Yes."

"I'll drop by your house later this evening."

Why would Tia want to do that, to check out Nick? Not that Emily would be jealous or anything. She certainly didn't have her sights set on him.

So what if her conscience condemned her as a horrid liar?

"I want to bring you something," Tia went on.

"Okay. Hmm, I wonder what it could be?"

"It's a surprise. Something you like."

"Well, thanks for thinking of me. And please don't tell anyone what's been going on. I don't want them to worry, and we don't know who's responsible yet."

"I won't. And I'm glad Nick will be there to protect you," Tia said in a suggestive voice.

"So am I." But Emily also wondered what else he would do to her besides protect her.

* * * *

The killer had said he'd call back today, Emily remembered when she glanced at her kitchen phone. Chills covered her skin and nausea surged. Had he already tried to call while she was gone? She didn't know if she could eat the takeout from her favorite Italian restaurant that she and Nick had picked up on the way into Savannah.

As soon as they'd arrived, Nick had searched her house to make sure no one was inside. The board was still nailed over the broken window by the back door.

Her hands unsteady, she served up the salad and lasagna onto white china.

The doorbell rang. She froze, her pulse rate skyrocketing. Was that the killer? No, maybe it was Tia. She would look through the peephole to be sure. She headed from the kitchen to the living room.

"Wait!" Nick barked the order behind her.

She halted mid-stride and turned. He exited the downstairs guest suite she'd suggested he stay in. "It's probably Tia," she said. At least she hoped it was. "I was going to look out before I opened it."

"Let me see." He peered through the peephole. "She doesn't look too dangerous." He motioned Emily toward the door.

"I'll tell her you said that."

One side of his lips quirked and his lashes lowered. His gaze turned smoldering.

Stop flirting with him, you dimwit.

Emily yanked open the door and Tia entered, all smiles as usual. Her short brunette hair fit her perky personality, as did her polka dot shorts outfit. She pushed two bottles of chilled red wine into Emily's hands. "Thought I'd share. Mom brought me a few bottles from the winery she visited last weekend. I remembered how much you loved this stuff last year."

"Thanks." Though she'd planned on serving iced tea and avoiding alcohol around Nick. Who knew if she'd be able to control herself with wine in her system? "You remember Nick. Nick, this is my good friend and business partner, Tia."

They shook hands, Tia beaming as if she didn't often get to see hotties like Nick. Well, she probably didn't.

"Yes, I remember Nick from the wedding. Nice to see you again."

"You, too."

"Em, you have to show me that new pair of shoes you bought," Tia said. "I've been dying to see them."

"Um." Emily almost asked her what she was talking about, then realized she wanted to talk in private. "They're in my closet. We'll be right back," she told Nick. "Why don't you go ahead and start eating? I know you're starving. And open one of these if you want." She handed the bottles of wine to Nick.

"Yes, ma'am," he said in a sarcastic tone, then winked. A wave of electricity passed through her and her nipples tingled. How could one wink generate such turmoil in her body?

"It will only take a minute, I promise," Tia said.

"No problem." Nick headed toward the kitchen.

Following Tia up the stairs, Emily felt like a giddy teenager again, heading off with a friend to talk and giggle about boys. At twenty-six, she was too old for this, but she had to admit Nick did excite her on so many levels. Once inside her bedroom, she closed the door.

"Way to go, Emily," Tia whispered dramatically.

"What are you talking about? I have a stalker."

"No, I mean about Nick. He's so damned hot." Tia fanned herself.

"Well, yes, I know that, but—"

"No but, girlfriend."

"He's my ex's brother." Emily hoped that was a good excuse to keep her hands off, no matter how much she wanted to stroke Nick's delectably defined muscles.