allow her aggravation with Charles to show on her face. What did she see in Mitch, a common manual laborer? Neither Charles nor her uncle would want to hear her honest answer to that question. Mitch was the most devastatingly masculine man she'd ever known, and the most intriguing. And he made her feel like a woman. Not a lady. A woman. With deep, hungry desires and burning passion.
"You say this Mitchell is a personal friend of Zed Banning?" Fowler asked.
"Yes. They've known each other for twelve years."
Fowler rubbed his forefinger and thumb up and down his chin. "Perhaps I should call Banning and ask him a few questions about this man. After all, we don't know anything about—"
"Don't you dare!" Emily knotted her hands into fists and held them in front of her, trying desperately not to jump up and run. "I appreciate your concern for me, but I'm perfectly capable of making my own friends and choosing whom I want to date."
"Yes, of course you are," Fowler said. "I didn't mean to imply that you weren't. I simply thought that a good word about Mr. Mitchell from a man of Zed Banning's reputation would put all our minds at ease."
"My mind is at ease." Relaxing her hands, Emily folded them together and placed them in her lap. "Mitch is a wonderful man. He's kind and considerate and caring."
"Have you told him about the phone calls and letters you've been receiving?" Fowler asked.
"No, I haven't. You and Nikki are the only two people I told." She glanced meaningfully at Charles. "And you told Charles." Against my wishes, she wanted to add, but didn't. "But I'm going to tell Mitch, now that I've decided to continue seeing him." She glared directly at Charles. "Yes, that means I'm going to continue dating him."
"Well, you certainly can't be serious about this man," Fowler said. "After all, you barely know him. I'm sure that whatever … physical attraction … you feel for him will diminish when you realize the two of you have nothing in common."
"You could be right, Uncle Fowler. But for now, I'm not going to stop seeing Mitch. As a matter of fact, I've decided to—"
"You aren't going to sleep with him!" Charles looked pleadingly at her.
"What I was trying to say is that I've decided to give my relationship with Mitch a chance to develop into something more than friendship."
"I suppose Nikki Griffin has been encouraging you in this relationship with Ray Mitchell." Fowler's slender fingers clutched the napkin beside his plate, his hand forming a fist around the linen.
"Nikki wants me to be happy," Emily said. "And she knows Mitch makes me happy."
"Then perhaps I should meet this young man." Fowler glowered at Charles when Charles cleared his throat loudly. "Why don't you bring him to the house for dinner this weekend?"
"Thank you, Uncle Fowler. I'd like that very much. I'll ask Mitch."
Emily said a silent prayer of thanks. Fowler Jordan was as dear to her as her own father had been. She wanted and needed his approval. Once he met Mitch, once he saw for himself how happy Mitch made her, then surely he would accept their relationship and cease his efforts to pair her with Charles. But whether he did or not, she wasn't going to stop seeing Mitch. She wasn't going to let anything come between her and the man she was falling in love with.
* * *
Emily tossed her handbag and key ring down on the mahogany-and-walnut bowfront commode in the small foyer, then turned and locked the front door. She had left lights on in the foyer, hallway and living room, as she always did. Ever since being engulfed in heavy, black smoke during the fire five years ago, she had what some people would call an unnatural fear of the dark.
She unzipped her dress before she reached her bedroom, then the moment she opened the door, she flipped on the light switch and kicked off her heels. When she sat down on the edge of her bed and slithered out of her panty hose, she noticed the light on her answering machine blinking. She punched the Message
"You say this Mitchell is a personal friend of Zed Banning?" Fowler asked.
"Yes. They've known each other for twelve years."
Fowler rubbed his forefinger and thumb up and down his chin. "Perhaps I should call Banning and ask him a few questions about this man. After all, we don't know anything about—"
"Don't you dare!" Emily knotted her hands into fists and held them in front of her, trying desperately not to jump up and run. "I appreciate your concern for me, but I'm perfectly capable of making my own friends and choosing whom I want to date."
"Yes, of course you are," Fowler said. "I didn't mean to imply that you weren't. I simply thought that a good word about Mr. Mitchell from a man of Zed Banning's reputation would put all our minds at ease."
"My mind is at ease." Relaxing her hands, Emily folded them together and placed them in her lap. "Mitch is a wonderful man. He's kind and considerate and caring."
"Have you told him about the phone calls and letters you've been receiving?" Fowler asked.
"No, I haven't. You and Nikki are the only two people I told." She glanced meaningfully at Charles. "And you told Charles." Against my wishes, she wanted to add, but didn't. "But I'm going to tell Mitch, now that I've decided to continue seeing him." She glared directly at Charles. "Yes, that means I'm going to continue dating him."
"Well, you certainly can't be serious about this man," Fowler said. "After all, you barely know him. I'm sure that whatever … physical attraction … you feel for him will diminish when you realize the two of you have nothing in common."
"You could be right, Uncle Fowler. But for now, I'm not going to stop seeing Mitch. As a matter of fact, I've decided to—"
"You aren't going to sleep with him!" Charles looked pleadingly at her.
"What I was trying to say is that I've decided to give my relationship with Mitch a chance to develop into something more than friendship."
"I suppose Nikki Griffin has been encouraging you in this relationship with Ray Mitchell." Fowler's slender fingers clutched the napkin beside his plate, his hand forming a fist around the linen.
"Nikki wants me to be happy," Emily said. "And she knows Mitch makes me happy."
"Then perhaps I should meet this young man." Fowler glowered at Charles when Charles cleared his throat loudly. "Why don't you bring him to the house for dinner this weekend?"
"Thank you, Uncle Fowler. I'd like that very much. I'll ask Mitch."
Emily said a silent prayer of thanks. Fowler Jordan was as dear to her as her own father had been. She wanted and needed his approval. Once he met Mitch, once he saw for himself how happy Mitch made her, then surely he would accept their relationship and cease his efforts to pair her with Charles. But whether he did or not, she wasn't going to stop seeing Mitch. She wasn't going to let anything come between her and the man she was falling in love with.
* * *
Emily tossed her handbag and key ring down on the mahogany-and-walnut bowfront commode in the small foyer, then turned and locked the front door. She had left lights on in the foyer, hallway and living room, as she always did. Ever since being engulfed in heavy, black smoke during the fire five years ago, she had what some people would call an unnatural fear of the dark.
She unzipped her dress before she reached her bedroom, then the moment she opened the door, she flipped on the light switch and kicked off her heels. When she sat down on the edge of her bed and slithered out of her panty hose, she noticed the light on her answering machine blinking. She punched the Message
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