He smiled and retrieved another glass from the cupboard. He’d obviously spent a lot of time in this place.
“How well did you know Amber?” she asked as he handed her a glass.
“Well enough.” He stared over Emily’s shoulder at the windows. “Geoffrey told me about her accident. It’s a shame.” He took a sip of his drink, still staring out the window.
“Yeah.” Emily stared at the golden elixir in her glass for a moment before taking a big sip. She winced as the cinnamon burned down her throat.
“Were you two friends?” David asked.
“Yes.” She shoved the painful thoughts away. She needed to be on her game so she could please David.
David returned to the couch and sat down. Emily followed, sitting close enough so he could touch her if he wanted, but not close enough to invade his personal space, if he wanted it.
He studied her for a long moment and smiled. “What happened to the ‘yes, sir’ ‘no, sir’ formalities of the restaurant?” His eyes glinted with amusement.
“Would you prefer that?” She twisted the glass in her hands.
He chuckled. “Can’t say it wasn’t a lovely turn of phrase from that pretty mouth of yours, but no, I’m not into dominance.”
Emily nodded. “It’s okay if you are.”
“You’re giving me permission to have a fetish?”
“I—” Emily bit her lip.
He laughed. “I’m kidding, Emily.”
She lifted her gaze without lifting her head. His green eyes were light and full of amusement. She gave him an uncertain smile.
He tilted his head, studying her again. “To put your mind at ease, I’m not into hurting women, or playing mind games, or anything like that.” He smiled. “I just want to spend a quiet evening making love to a beautiful young woman.”
She glanced at the wedding ring on his hand. “Your wife doesn’t like sex?”
He laughed. “Oh, she does. Just not with me.”
She drew her brows together. He was a handsome man. And kind. Why would his wife not like him?
He shrugged. “I suppose we both prefer younger partners.” His eyes grew dark for a moment, but he smiled, his eyes lightening again.
“I’m not that young,” Emily said without thinking, then pressed her lips together.
He stared, his brows twitching. “I see. Well, I assure you, you’re plenty young for me.” His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head. “You’re... early twenties, right?”
“Twenty-one.”
He scooted forward, running the backs of his fingers along her jaw. “Young enough to not carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, but old enough to know better.”
He slid the silken material off her shoulder, his fingers following and she swallowed at his light touch. She wouldn’t admit she liked it.
He scooted closer and pressed his lips to hers, tasting of whiskey and cinnamon. She slid her hands up a surprisingly hard chest. Why had she imagined him to be soft?
She returned his kiss, sliding her hands down the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one at a time, until his chest came into view. She ran her fingers through the wiry hairs, enjoying the taut muscles of his torso. His nipples puckered under her fingers and he shivered.
If there was one thing she knew for certain, it was how to please an older man.
He leaned forward and kissed down her jawline to her exposed clavicle as he pushed the robe away from her other shoulder. She leaned her head back. His kisses were gentle and soothing.
She unfastened the heavy gold cufflinks at his wrists and pushed the shirt off his shoulders and leaned back and smiled. He was well-built. Why would any woman prefer an immature, skinny teenager to a fully formed man?