Seated in a straight-backed chair opposite his desk, she sat stiffly with her hands folded in her lap and her ankles neatly crossed and tucked beneath her. Emma slowly turned wary amber eyes to him. He turned the brass knob and pushed the door open. She wouldn’t have come to see him otherwise. No, whatever news she came to tell him couldn’t be good. Where it concerned Janey, she was like a tigress protecting her cub and hadn’t bothered to hide the fact she thought him no good for her little sister. She was completely not his type, not to mention she loathed him. She all but raised Janey, got a job at fourteen to help pay the bills and still managed to end up at the top of her class. Preparing himself for the bad news instinct told him lay beyond that door.įour years older, Emma was one of those annoyingly sensible types. At the landing he stopped and turned to the closed door, pausing to draw in a deep breath. He hadn’t seen her since the night her mother died. Growing up, that girl got him into more trouble then he cared to remember.Įmma, on the other hand, hadn’t been back to town since she left. Janey used to come back to town on a regular basis, every few months or so she showed up on his doorstep with a wicked gleam in her eye. She could’ve blown on him and knocked him over showing up here like that. It formed there the exact instant he spotted Emma at the edge of the crowd. The ball of dread in his stomach tightened. He envisioned the room beyond the landing of the small flight of stairs in front of him-and the woman seated within. The very same crowd she pushed and shoved in order to get through only minutes before, now all but parted for him.Įmma eased her foot back into her boot all the while sending up a silent prayer for strength.ĭillon heaved a sigh. Without waiting for a reply, Dillon pivoted and strode off into the crowd. “You’re already here, and I’m not waiting until tomorrow to hear whatever it is you need to tell me. He handed her the towel of ice and shook his head.

“Now would be a good time.” The creases between his brows deepened.

I came to ask when would be a good time for us to…talk.” When you weren’t at home, I didn’t know where else to find you. Like the phone, dropping her awful news on him in his place of business felt wrong, like taking the coward’s way out. “I meant I didn’t want to do this here.” She swept her hand in the air, a gesture meant to encompass the entire place. “It never fails.” He turned an apologetic frown on her. On the other side of the room, two women had climbed onto a table and shook their assets for an uproariously grateful crowd of drunken men. Dillon turned sideways and followed the man’s gaze.

The Playboy's Baby by J.M. Stewart