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He tilted his head to the side, giving her a thorough once-over. “I just wanted to dance with my wife.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
GARRETT
He didn’t wait around to see Emma’s reaction to his too-honest reply. He went to his bedroom before she could say anything else, closing the door behind him.
And just what the hell were you thinking telling the truth?It was the last thing he should have done.
Yeah, Garrett wasn’t a patient man. But he’d known going into this that Emma required very special handling—and a hell of a lot more patience than he’d just displayed.
He had forgotten himself after a frustrating and slightly disgusting night.
Garrett was playing a long game. But Emma had caught him in a moment of weakness, keeping at him with her trademark stubbornness until he snapped.
And now he may have ruined everything, letting on just how much she affected him.
Emma was understandably skittish. And not just about him. About everything. And he didn’t blame her. Imagine having to rebuild your whole life. He couldn’t think of a single person who would trade places with her, not even him.
Except he would have. If he could somehow save her the pain andanguish of not knowing who she was, then yeah. He would rather it had been him hit by that car.
Still riled up, he stripped off the rest of his clothes. He’d managed to stay clean the second time Kyle threw up, but that didn’t matter. Just thinking about it made another shower necessary.
He took care of that in short order and was roughly toweling off when there was a tentative knock at the door.
Closing his eyes, he counted to ten. But the knock came again.
He should have known Emma wasn’t going to let that dance comment go.
“Just a sec,” he called out, pulling out a pair of sweatpants.
“Can you meet me in the living room?” she replied loud enough to be heard through his thick door.
Shit. This night was never going to end, was it?
“Sure,” he yelled back, grateful the entire penthouse was soundproof. He’d hate to think of Rainer and George hearing whatever was happening on this side of the floor.
Garrett slipped on the sweatpants, not bothering with a shirt. He’d just get it wet. Grabbing a fresh hand towel, he went out to the living room, trying to rub his hair dry so he wouldn’t have to bust out a blow dryer.
He didn’t notice the candlelight right away.
Emma was standing in the middle of the living room. Her hair was also wet, and she wasn’t wearing her little black dress anymore. She was wearing a nightgown, standing before him in bare feet.
As nightgowns went, it was a simple affair. A sleeveless shallow V-neck that came to her knees. But even simple cuts like this transformed on Emma’s body.
Yeah, every woman in the world should hate her.
Garrett ignored his itchy palms, clearing his throat. “What’s going on?” he asked, gesturing to the romantic lighting.
“I wanted to make tonight up to you.”
He raised his hand, about to tell her she didn’t have to do anything, but she’d already turned away. She ran to the back of the couch, picking up her phone andfiddling with it.
A distinctive jazzy saxophone began to play through his Bluetooth speakers.
He burst out laughing.
Emma stopped the song, frowning. “What? What is it?”