be said for my gramps," Emmy said. "Or my great-grandma, who grew up dirt poor on a homestead in South Dakota, the eldest of eleven kids. She had to bring them up after her mom died in labor. She was a tough cookie though, Fiona O'Leary. She's kind of a family legend."
"Fiona O'Leary? She sounds like a redhead too."
"I guess so — although I don't know for sure. But it does run on her side of the family. She went on to marry and have eight kids — you'd have thought she'd had enough with her brothers and sisters, but no — and then left her drunk husband when he beat her, taking all the kids with her to raise on her own. Which, you know, wasn't the norm either in 1920s America."
"Is she the one who moved East again?"
"Only as far as Chicago. That's where she raised her brood, and where my gramps fell in with bootleggers and generally led a bit of a wild life. Until he met my grandma, who apparently tamed him."
"Hmm. I like the thought of that," Eric said, not at all innocently, and he leaned across the bed with a tiny, morsel of tart on his fork, which he chased with a kiss. "So, strong women also run in the family, do they?"
She swallowed the last bite and grinned.
"You could say that, yes. Is it going to be a problem?"
The laughter in his eyes as he tackled her onto her back and proceeded to tickle her didn't make her think it would be.
Chapter Nine
If Emmy had any doubts about Eric's ability to play the perfect host the morning after, they were dispelled as soon as she woke up and stretched, her whole body pleasantly aching from the night's exertions. A glass of freshly-squeezed orange juice was waiting for her on the bedside table, and although Eric had deserted his side of the bed, she could hear him getting busy in the kitchen.
She was a bit fuzzy as to how she came to spend the night — she hadn't been planning to, it seemed a bit sudden — but it had involved more wine, and more awesome sex, if less exhibitionistic and more bed-based. She had a flashback of Eric stretched between her legs, mouthing lazily (but skillfully) at her core, coaxing one last — the fourth? fifth? — orgasm from her pleasure-wracked body until she arched with a whimper, and after that, nothing. Maybe she just passed out from all the coming.
The bedroom was suffused in a warm morning glow, the sunlight outside dimmed by thick drapes over the windows, the mechanism operating them simple enough for Emmy to figure out after a couple of minutes' determined hunting around.
A quick trip to the master bathroom established that although what was left of her makeup was smudged, the overall effect was fetching in a saucy, slightly debauched way, rather than the haggard fucked-out look she'd been fearing. The still-wrapped toothbrush by the side of the basin was a nice touch, as was the fluffy bathrobe she wrapped herself with after her ablutions.
"Hungry?" Eric called out to her when she ventured out of the bedroom with the empty orange juice glass, and found him putting the finishing touches to a couple of plates of scrambled eggs with smoked salmon, wholewheat toast on the side. In between bed and the kitchen, he'd found the time to slip into some loose sweatpants and a black tee. He looked up from his task and grinned at her as she watched him work.
"Good morning. Did you sleep well?"
"Like a log — I can't remember falling asleep last night. I think you wore me out..." she said, and she could feel her cheeks coloring as she spoke.
Eric straightened up, gave the breakfast he'd just fixed an appraising glance, and turned to Emmy, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in for a leisurely kiss.
"It is a good morning," he said when their lips parted. "Now do you want tea or coffee with those scrambled eggs?"
Halfway through breakfast, reality intruded in the form of a series of pressing messages on Eric's iPhone, which he tried to ignore for five minutes, with little success.
"I'm sorry, Em, I really have to answer this," he said, chagrined, as he reached for a Bluetooth headset which she noticed just next to the table. "Karen? What's up? I'm assuming this is important."
The transformation from relaxed lover to business tycoon was almost instant, and jarring. He was