“Exactly. Probability, statistics, anything
requiring numbers is easy for me. It took a while for that to show up, but once
it did, the rest—” She shrugged. “Let’s say my luck at the tables comes
naturally.”
“Is that why you’re not interested in the
agency?”
“I wouldn’t be any good at it, and as much as
Henrietta has wanted me to join her on the fourth floor, I think she knows I’m
not suited for it.” Derian rose and began clearing the table. “Besides, the
board would never stand for it. I’m the black sheep, remember.”
Emily rose to help her. “Let me help. You’ve
waited on me all night.”
“I enjoy waiting on you,” Derian murmured.
“And I’ve taken up quite enough of your time
this evening,” Emily said as Derian pushed the food cart aside. “I really
should be getting home.”
“Of course. I’ll call you a car.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary. I can easily get a
cab—”
Derian cupped Emily’s cheek and brushed her
fingers through Emily’s hair. “No, you won’t. I’ll see you downstairs and into
a car.”
“You’re very kind,” Emily murmured, leaned
into Derian’s hand without thinking, and watched heat flicker through Derian’s
eyes. She thought for a heartbeat she was about to be kissed again. She didn’t
move.
“No,” Derian whispered, “I’m not.”
And she stepped away, leaving Emily unkissed
and unexpectedly disappointed.
Chapter Nine
Derian slid her hands into her pockets and watched
the cab pull away, following its course along the park until it turned and
disappeared. She’d escorted more women than she’d ever thought to count to a
cab or car in the middle of the night, seeing them off to their other lives,
their other lovers. Fortunately, few of her liaisons cared to spend the night,
like-having-recognized-like before the assignations had begun. Even when the
night gave way to dawn, she couldn’t recall a single instance when she and her
bedmate had shared breakfast. Sitting opposite someone over a meal required a
level of intimate conversation she usually avoided. Not so with Emily, though.
Somehow they had effortlessly traveled into regions Derian rarely traversed,
even in her mind. Thoughts of family, lost to time or tragedy, were not
landscapes she cared to view, but she’d touched on all of that with Emily. And
Emily had ventured there with her too, for a moment, before pulling back from
whatever sorrows populated that part of her past. Derian wanted to know, wanted
to help ease that grief, but she’d wait until invited, even though waiting was
not her usual stance.
The evening with Emily had been a departure
in more ways than one. Spending time with Emily was not like spending time with
other women. She hadn’t been eager for her to leave—just the opposite. Even
now, a hollow ache percolated in her chest, as if Emily had taken some of the
energy and excitement of the night with her. Derian wasn’t inured to the
company of other women—she appreciated the intimacies they shared, but she’d
always been satisfied with the physical. Oh, she was aware of Emily physically,
all right. She could envision making love with her. Sitting across from her at
the small table, she’d imagined it more than once. Even now, the vibrant images
were so clear and insistent, desire surged like a heavy hand squeezing deep
inside.