Emma's jitters had calmed by the time the supper finished, but the uncertainty whirlpooling in her head had just become more potent. She recognized something between her and Lucas, something more than just a work connection. She was unsure, however, about what to do about it.
Lucas strolled next to her as they exited the restaurant; his presence provided consistent solace in the chilly night air. Although the driver was already waiting, neither of them moved to get in for a brief instant.
Emma looked up at him, added, "Thank you for tonight." "It was... pleasing."
Lucas grinned, his eyes kind and fixed on her face. "It was more than lovely."
Emma gulped; her heart thumping in her chest. Between them, there was a silence that buzzed like a live wire. She could not allow herself give in even though she knew what he was thinking—what they both thought. Not Yet.
Her voice shaking slightly, she replied, "I should go."
Lucas nodded, but there was a flash of something in his eyes—probably disappointment. perhaps something more fundamental. Obviously.
He unlocked the vehicle door for her, and their hands touched as she slid inside, zap of lightning up her arm. Her breath seized in her throat as she turned to look at him.
"Goodnight, Emma," he replied gently.
Her pulse beating as the door closed and the vehicle drew away, she murmured back, "Goodnight, Lucas."
Emma slumped back in the seat, her head whirling as the city lights melted past her. She knew one thing for sure: Lucas Stone was breaking through her barriers; she had no idea what was occurring between them or how much longer she could hold on fighting.
Emma poured herself into her work the next day, hoping the creative process would divert her from the ideas whirling through her head. She worked in her studio for hours drawing, painting, and attempting to replicate the feelings Lucas had set off in her.
Her thoughts kept returning to him, however, to the way he had looked at her, the way he had talked to her, the way his touch had lingered just a little too long—no matter how hard she tried to concentrate. This tug she felt toward him was agonizing. She also couldn't get rid of the impression that something natural was occurring between them no matter how hard she tried to fight.
Her phone rang with a message only at late afternoon. Emma scrubbed her paint-streaked hands with a cloth before taking it up; her heart skipped a beat as she saw Lucas's name on the screen.
Lucas: Tonight's dinner is tomorrow. Where I am at this time. I would like to discuss the project more specifically.
Emma glanced at the letter as her heart hammered in her chest. supper at his house? She knew it; it was risky ground. She felt an irresistible draw to say yes, however, even with the caution bells blaring in her head.
Her fingers hung over the screen for a second before she wrote a response.
Emma: All right. at what hour?
His answer came almost right away.
Lucas: 7:00 PM I'm going to send an automobile.
Emma put down her phone, her thoughts flying. She knew this was stretching a line. She seemed indifferent, however, for the first time in years. Lucas Stone had something about him that inspired her to go beyond the confines she had so precisely built.
Perhaps perhaps, just perhaps, it was time to stop fleeing the tempest.
Chapter Six: Restricted by Business
Emma was clearly tense as she stood in front of her mirror polishing her outfit for the third time. She wondered why she felt so anxious. Dinner was all that was scheduled. at Lucas's residence. business-wise.
But it was not just business, was it?
Her ideas were a disorganized tangle as she attempted to persuade herself that tonight was not as important as it seemed. Lucas Stone was a client—an important one—certainly, but this had to do with the project. Not more, either.
Still, her fingers shook slightly as she put on a last coat of lipstick; her mirror revealed the flutter of exhilaration in her eyes. She detested her feelings, as like she were on the brink of something she was powerless over.
The vehicle Lucas had sent showed up outside her apartment precisely at 7 PM. Emma felt a weird shame as she stepped into the sleek black car, which seemed out of place in her peaceful, modest neighbourhood. Lucas's existence was much different from hers, far off from the universe she had created for herself.
Emma's heart hammered as the automobile raced across the city streets. She had not read for this. nor for the way Lucas made her feel, nor for the fury within her she could not quite control.
Emma inhaled deeply, steadying herself before getting out as the vehicle drew up in front of Lucas's building—a sleek, glass skyscraper towering above the city.
The doorman nodded politely to her, then she headed across the lobby toward the private elevator headed for Lucas's apartment. Every level that passed seemed to be a countdown, her pulse thumping in tune with the gentle elevator bell.
At last the doors opened to see Lucas standing at the entrance of his opulent apartment, hands in his pockets and a small grin on his lips.
"Emma," he whispered quietly, his voice as silky as the tie he wore. "I'm glad you showed up."
Her breath stopped at the towering, calm, and shockingly beautiful look of him. He was not any customer at all. Every thread of her existence understood this night was not just about business; he was Lucas Stone.
She said, "I wasn't sure if I should," stepping out of the elevator with a little grin.
Lucas's grin darkened, his eyes never leaving hers. "But you did.."
Emma could feel the pull, greater now than it had ever been, and the air between them buzzed with wordless conflict. She could have spun around and used some justification to go. She remained, however, allowing herself to sink more into his universe.
Lucas murmured, moving aside to allow her inside the apartment, "Come in."
The room was amazing—floor to ceiling windows providing a panoramic view of the city below, elegant contemporary furnishings placed sensibly throughout the open living area. Emma could only see in magazines or movies this type of environment, one so much apart from her own.
But she was not very interested in the penthouse. It was Lucas, the way his eyes seemed to follow her every stride and his easy ease across the space.
"I ordered dinner," he added, pointing to the dining room where a little table with excellent place settings and candles was arranged. "I expect you to be hungry.
Emma grinned as her gut knotted up. She wasn't sure whether it was hunger or something else totally. "I could eat."
Lucas laughed, and the sound made her shudder down her back. "Good."
They settled down, and the talk turned to safer ground as the waiter Lucas had obviously engaged for the evening started serving the dinner. Work of Art The agency. The effort Lucas had hired her for.
Still, the fundamental current between them never changed even while they discussed business. Every gaze, every word seemed imbued with something deeper, something neither of them was ready to really admit.
Lucas's eyes locked hers across the table as he added, "I've been thinking about the piece." "I want it to capture more than the storm itself. I want it to center the quiet after. About finding harmony among the anarchy.
Emma let out a choked breath. The words were very intimate, too near to the reality she had been avoiding. Lucas was speaking about people, not alone of the artwork. About the turmoil whirling around them, about the strain they were unable to seem to release.
Her fingers following the edge of her wine glass, she murmured gently, "I think I can do that." But it may take some time.
Lucas nodded, his eyes never turning from hers. "Take all you need all the time."
Her became uncomfortable from the strength in his voice. They both knew it; this was crossing a line. Neither of them, however, seems ready to quit.
Lucas walked her to the huge windows overlooking the city after supper. Under them the lights extended like a sea of dazzling stars across the black horizon. Emma stood beside him, her pulse pounding as the quiet between them became thicker.
Lucas replied softly, his voice almost audible above a whisper, "I wasn't sure if you would say yes to tonight."
Emma looked up at him, her pulse accelerating at his eyes' vulnerability. Neither was me.
For a minute they stood there, the weight of their unsaid emotions hanging in the air as the city opened out below them. Emma could feel it—the tug between them becoming more intense every second.
Then Lucas abruptly stretched out and grabbed her hand. Her pulse thumping in her chest, the touch shocked her and she froze as his fingers entwined with hers.
"Emma," he said, his voice thick with feeling. I—
Emma drew back, however, drawing her hand away before he could finish.
Her voice quivering, "I can't," she said. I am unable to accomplish this.
Lucas's eyes clouded and for a minute he seemed as if he may say anything more. He nodded instead, however, moving aside to give her room.
"I understand," he said gently.
The reality was, however, he did not. Neither did she.