“A little.”
“How about the back of your head?”
“A little more sore,” she admitted. “But on the whole, I’m fine. I’m going back to work tomorrow.”
He held out a manila envelope. “I brought you something from Clay.”
Emily frowned as she took it. “You didn’t tell him what happened, did you?”
“I didn’t have to,” Wade answered grimly. “The kids at school took care of that. I reassured him that you’re okay, and that I’m going to catch the crooks and put them in jail. That’s a promise I intend to keep.”
With misty eyes, Emily studied the drawing Clay had sent her. The boy had drawn a picture of himself holding a huge bouquet of multicolored flowers. In careful lettering at the bottom of the page, he had written, “Miss Emily, I’m sorry your head got hurt. Love, Clay.”
She touched a fingertip to the funny little face in the child’s drawing. “I think I’m in love with your son, Wade,” she said, trying to speak lightly.
“Well, that’s half the battle won,” he muttered, and pulled her into his arms.
His mouth came down on hers with a hunger that only seemed to have intensified since the last time he’d kissed her.
She told herself she should pull away. No matter how spectacularly he kissed. No matter how good he made her feel. This wasn’t wise. It couldn’t last.
But, oh, how she wanted it to go on.
She wrapped an arm around his neck—only to steady herself, she decided, knowing a mental lie when she heard one.
Her mouth opened beneath his—but only because his probing tongue gave her little choice, she thought sheepishly.
And then she returned his kiss with a greed of her own—but only because she thought she’d die of wanting if she didn’t, she admitted in surrender.
Maybe it was the attraction that had been building between them from the first. Or maybe it had somethi
ng to do with the events of the past few days. But she didn’t want to be reasonable and cautious and sensible now. She wanted Wade. She needed him...if only for tonight.
“Your head...” he murmured, drawing back only an inch or so.
“Is spinning,” she admitted. “But it has nothing to do with my injuries.”
“Emily, I...” He grimaced, as though he wasn’t sure what to say.
Emily had no difficulty forming the words. “I want you, too, Wade.”
It would have been pointless to lie. She had no doubt that he would have seen right through her.
His eyes glittered as he drew her closer again. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure I want you. I’m not at all sure it’s wise,” she said.
“And are you always wise, Emily McBride?” he asked, his lips moving teasingly against hers.
She almost groaned with the longing that welled inside her. “I’ve always tried to be,” she whispered. “But tonight...”
He kissed her lingeringly. “Tonight?” he prodded.
“Tonight I don’t want to be wise,” she murmured, drawing his mouth back to hers.
If she was going to start having all those adventures she’d dreamed of, she might as well begin tonight, she thought recklessly. And she could hardly imagine anything more exciting than making love with Wade Davenport.
Without allowing herself to think about it any longer, she led him to the bedroom she would always consider her own.