Gone with the Wolf - By Kristin Miller Page 0,58

squirmed in her seat. Although clouds still cluttered the sky, the rain had stopped and the wind had died. “What’s playing?”

“Sabrina.” With a smile, he popped the trunk and exited the car. “I’m a Bogart fan and thought you might like it. Have you seen the original version?”

“I’ve seen the newer one with Harrison Ford,” she said, thinking back to whether or not she liked it. If the movie was a downer, she could think of other things to do with Drake in an empty parking lot. “Is the original black and white?”

“Of course. It released in the fifties.”

She suppressed a groan, but dropped her head back against the seat. Black-and-white movies put her to sleep.

“We can watch something else.” Drake tossed two fuzzy blankets onto her lap and returned to the front seat. “I’ve got Teen Wolf on standby.”

“Hardy-har.”

As the screen came to life, rich in its shades of black, gray, and white, Emelia draped the blankets over their laps and snuggled against Drake’s shoulder. Within minutes her disappointment eased. She was at a drive-in watching a movie beneath a cloudy sky with the man of her dreams. Who cared if they watched a black-and-white movie or the newest hit?

Excitement bubbled inside her. It wasn’t the warmth of his body, the buzz of the coffee she’d had before leaving the bar, or watching a movie this way that had her heart beaming with light.

It was him.

Realization struck Emelia as Audrey Hepburn’s voice flowed from the speaker and into the car. She could be in his mansion or her teeny-tiny apartment, his yacht or an inflatable raft, beneath a starry sky or balloons of rainclouds…as long as she was with Drake, she’d be happy.

Damn, if she wasn’t in love with the business-suit-wearing, classic-movie-loving, richer-than-gravy werewolf.

Chapter Eighteen

“He should give it all up and go to her,” Emelia said, choking back the emotion welling inside her. Her gaze was glued to the screen. The movie was almost over, and her heart was wrenching. “Why is Linus being so blind? Why won’t he admit his feelings to himself? He loves her.”

“Yes, he does,” Drake said, “but he’s been taught to follow his logic for so long that he’s become deaf to the voice in his heart telling him that she’s his match.”

“Then he needs to wake his ass up.” She swiped a tear rolling down her cheek. “He’s going to lose her and she’s perfect for him.”

“She is perfect for him, but what good will it do Linus to declare his love if Sabrina insists on denying her own feelings?”

“What are you talking about? Look at them.” She pointed to the larger-than-life screen. “Deep down Sabrina has to know she loves him.”

Her words silenced Drake, and when she searched his face for the reason, it struck her. He wasn’t talking about the movie at all. He was talking about them. About Emelia turning Drake down, and turning him away.

She looked at him then, her stomach in a giant knot, her heart overflowing with joy and sadness and…love. Their gazes locked. Emelia’s heart overflowed with desire. Drake wasn’t her boss, the owner of half of Seattle, and probably one of the wealthiest men on the planet. Well, he was those things, but he wasn’t those things to her. He was just a guy with the plushest lips she’d ever seen. A guy who made her skin tingle and her heart skip beats. He was a guy who laughed at her crazy jokes, and made her feel like a princess…a princess who could rule her own kingdom if she wanted to.

She wanted him. This man. The one sitting beside her. And she wanted him no matter which package he came in. No matter if their future held children or not.

“Kiss me, Drake,” she said.

He angled his body toward her, hesitating, gazing at her as if he knew, as if he felt the snapping in her middle. When Emelia opened her mouth to say more, Drake devoured her words, his lips on hers, his hands brushing feather-softly over her cheeks.

Everything slipped away but the sweet, succulent taste of Drake’s mouth and the electricity behind his touch. Tremors worked through her, tingling her toes, buzzing through her legs, and gathering in her middle. Tangling his hands in her hair, Drake sighed into her and tilted Emelia’s head to deepen the kiss.

She was on fire for him. Burning.

As if he read her mind, Drake palmed her breasts, kneading them in his hands. Her skin caught fire beneath her