The_Color_of_Love_-_Radclyffe (Рэдклифф) - страница 40

Derian grinned as if she were still reading her mind, which was irksome and appealing all at once. A lot like the woman herself.

“If I didn’t know better,” Emily said, feigning annoyance, “I’d think you did that on purpose.”

“I might have, if I’d known you would have enjoyed it.”

“I didn’t say that.” Emily narrowed her eyes. “Do you actually enjoy shocking people?”

“Were you?” Derian asked quietly, suddenly very close. “Shocked?”

“No,” Emily said, unable to hide the truth. “I was not.”

“What then?”

“Surprised,” Emily whispered, “that’s all.”

“So you don’t really find me shocking?” Derian traced a finger over the top of Emily’s hand.

“No,” Emily said softly, feeling the weight of Derian’s finger pulse in her center. “I find you unexpected.”

Derian’s gaze intensified. “Not like the rumors and gossip columns would have you believe?”

“I might be guilty of enjoying the glitz and glamour of your world,” Emily said, letting Derian search her eyes, “but I can tell reality from fantasy in my own.”

“Can you?” Derian murmured, catching Emily’s fingers in her palm. “How about tonight?”

“What about tonight?” Emily had the oddest sensation she was falling into the undercurrents swirling in Derian’s eyes and wondered if she cared.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like this to be a date?” Derian’s fingers linked with Emily’s. “Because I would.”

“I can’t think of a worse idea.”

Derian didn’t look offended. She looked curious. “Why?”

“Oh, a million reasons,” Emily said lightly, resisting the urge to step back. She couldn’t retreat. She never retreated. And if she did now, Derian would know in an instant she was attracted. She could hardly be blamed for an unconscious and purely automatic response. Derian Winfield was beautiful, intelligent, clever, and surprisingly tender. “You’re Henrietta’s niece, and it’s probably not a good idea for us to have any kind of personal relationship under the best of circumstances, but definitely not these. You’re likely to disappear at any moment, which is fine, really, but there’s no point in pretending that we have anything in common. So I think any kind of relationship between us should be purely friendly and professional.”

The corner of Derian’s mouth worked as if she were trying not to laugh. Emily frowned. “What?”

“Friendly and professional. Right.” Derian leaned forward, kissed Emily softly on the mouth. “Okay.”

Emily’s lips parted as Derian released her hand. Her heart thundered in her ears and a twisting sensation coiled inside her. She wasn’t sure if it was the kiss or Derian’s audacity that disoriented her, but for an instant, she forgot everything except the smooth heat of Derian Winfield’s mouth. The kiss was barely a kiss, just a fleeting touch, silky soft. Just enough to make her lips tingle. She tugged at her lower lip for a second, willing the sensation to disappear. There. Much better. She stared at Derian, found her watching her with a dark, penetrating expression that made her shiver.