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  “Touch me,” he said, and she leaned forward, taking another strawberry from the bowl, biting into the icy sweetness and letting the juice fall across him again, sucking it from his muscled body, running her tongue across his nipples until he shuddered. Then she arched her back, trailing the bleeding fruit across her stomach and her thighs until she was slick and shining with the juice. She held the crushed berry to her mouth and sucked it in, then moved forward again and kissed him, thrusting her tongue into his mouth and filling him with the taste of strawberries.

  “Now,” he said.

  She smiled. Then she sat up, moving her body gently over his hips. She slid away from the bed to stand beside him. She used one finger to pull the pink lace down from her hips, letting it fall to the floor. Then she straddled him again, naked and sticky with the gleaming juice, her long hair sweeping across his chest, easing herself down over him until he was just barely inside her, barely touching her. She wanted him so much she could hardly breathe.

  She looked into his eyes and saw the desire and the love there, and she said, “Now,” and reached up to pull the end of the slipknot and free his hands at the same time she plunged her hips into his.

  He cried out as she covered him, and he rolled her over onto her back, running his hands across her arms, her breasts, cradling her face as he kissed her savagely, all the while thrusting into her as if he couldn’t stop, would never stop. She clung to him, gasping because he felt so good inside her. The feel of his body hot and strong and hard against her, inside her, pushed her out of the limbo of lust she’d been drifting through and over the edge of her orgasm, and she clawed at him and cried as it came, feeling him shudder with his own climax.

  He held her tightly against him, drawing his breath in huge shuddering gasps.

  “Don’t ever do that again,” he finally breathed. “You damn near killed me.”

  “I thought you liked it,” she whispered.

  “I did. But never again. It was too much.” He kissed her, his lips soft on hers, and then began to explore her body with his tongue, licking the stickiness from her, kissing her over and over, exhausted from lovemaking but still needing her.

  “I liked it,” Emily said sleepily.

  “I could tell.” Richard pulled the edge of the comforter over them and stroked his hand slowly up and down her back until she fell asleep, but he couldn’t, and when he woke her up half an hour later, still crazy with need, they made love with even more intensity than before.

  When he awoke the next morning, he was alone. For a moment he thought Emily had left, but then he heard her in the kitchen.

  She was dressed in his robe, making French toast from slabs of French bread and cinnamon-seasoned eggs and cream. It smelled like heaven.

  He came up behind her and kissed her on the neck, and she leaned back into him.

  “I never thought to ask you last night,” she said. “Do you like strawberries?”

  “Yes.” He held her tight against him. “I especially like the way you served them. Could we do that again without the part where I get tied up?”

  “Strawberries or syrup on your toast?” Emily asked.

  “Strawberries,” he said.

  She poured syrup over the thick slabs and handed the plate to him.

  “Emily?”

  “Eat,” she said cheerfully. “It’ll get cold.”

  Richard sat down at the table, naked and confused.

  She brought her own plate and sat across from him, pouring syrup over her toast, too.

  “Big meeting today,” she said.

  He looked down at the syrup on his plate and sighed, and then began to eat. “Let’s go in late. The meeting’s not until eleven.”

  She chewed her toast. “I’ve never made this with cream before. It’s really rich.”

  “It’s great,” Richard said and tried again. “Let’s go in late to the meeting.”

  Emily handed him her coffee cup.

  “Freshen this for me, would you?” she asked, smiling.

  “Sure.” He got up, poured in more coffee and handed the cup back to her. “Let’s go in late to the meeting,” he began for the third time, but she overrode him as if he hadn’t spoken.

  “Thanks for the coffee, love. I’ve got to go over a few things with Jane, so I’m going in early.”

  “But, Emily,” Richard began, still confused.

  She picked up her cup and carried it out of the kitchen with her.

  “Emily!” Richard sounded outraged.

  She leaned back into the doorway so he could see her. “Did you say something, dear? I didn’t hear.” Then she gave him a brilliant smile and went into the bedroom.

  He scowled at his toast for a moment, then got up and followed her into the bedroom. She wasn’t there, but he could hear water running in the bathroom.

  “All right, Emily,” he said to the bathroom door. “You’ve made your point. It’s very annoying being ignored, and it’s very frustrating being powerless. Now come out here.” He rattled the doorknob, but it was locked.

  “Emily!”

  “I can’t hear you, Richard,” she called back. “The water’s running.”

  The water continued to run for what seemed an eternity. When she shut it off, Richard tried the door again. “Emily, come out here! I want to talk to you.”

  The door opened and Emily came out, dressed for work. She kissed him on the cheek.

  “See you at work, darling,” she said, and slipped away from him. He followed her to the door, but stepped back when she opened it.

  “Dammit, Emily.”

  She wiggled her fingers at him and left, closing the door behind her.

  “Very funny.” He stalked back to his bedroom to get dressed.

  * * *

  RICHARD TRIED TO CALL her when he got to work, but Jane said she wasn’t in. He stormed downstairs and past Jane, but her office really was empty.

  “Where is she?” he snarled at Jane.

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” Jane asked calmly.

  He stopped, stunned.

  “She’s your partner, not your property. She does not have to be here in case you want her,” Jane said, folding her arms and glaring at him. “And if you have any brains at all, you’ll start listening to her, because she’s very good at what she does. She made four million dollars for this company in the last six months. So far you haven’t brought in a dime.”

  Richard glared at her, his blue eyes steely with anger.

  Jane glared back, unfazed. “If you won’t listen to her because she deserves to be listened to, perhaps you’ll listen to her to save your job. Because if Sizzle flops because you didn’t give her the money to do the job, it’s not going to be her neck on the line.”

  “She throws money around like it’s water,” Richard said, his glare fading. “She needs me.”

  “Absolutely.” Jane smiled. “She’s a complete loss at budgeting. But you’re a complete loss at marketing. And budgeting never sold perfume yet. Emily can sell perfume, but only if you listen to her. Instead of ignoring her, listen to her and find her the money she needs. She gave up a lot of things she wanted on this campaign because of you, and that’s good. She’s learned a lot from you. She’s been careful and focused on the two most important things, the things she felt were vital to sell Sizzle—rubies and the product placement. And you haven’t even tried to help her. You just said no. You didn’t even try.”

  Richard’s glare faded to a wince. “I didn’t listen, you mean.”

  “She’ll be at the meeting in an hour,” Jane said.

  He started to say something, then turned and walked to the elevator. When he was gone, Jane went to the ladies’ room.

  Emily was sitting on the vanity waiting for her.

  “He’s gone,” said Jane.

  “And?”

  “I don’t know.” Jane leaned against the wall. “I told him all the stuff we’d agreed on. He looked like he wasn’t used to taking that kind of talk f