enjoy champagne out of any available delivery method. Please . . . you know, in college, we used to chug it right from the bottle.”
“Now that’s what I’d called sacrilege.” I stood up to retrieve the tumblers from the shelf alongside my desk. “Champagne is meant to be sipped and savored, not gulped down teenage throats.”
“Maybe not. But it wasn’t exactly Cristal we were drinking them, remember. It wasn’t actually champagne—it was some kind of German sparkling wine. Whatever it was, it did the trick. Got us good and buzzed, which led to—” She stopped talking abruptly. “Anyway. Here—will you pop the cork, please? I usually end up breaking some of it into the bottle, which is a pain in the ass.”
“Sure. Give it here.” Peeling off the foil, I leaned against the front edge of my desk, only about a foot from Emma, with my legs stretched out in front of me as I secured the bottle beneath one arm and began untwisting the wire cap basket. Once it was off, I aimed the bottle away from Emma and began carefully easing off the cork.
It came out with a loud pop, making both of us jump and then laugh. I doled out equal amounts for each of us and then raised my glass.
“To Emma—who is destined to be the first naturopath to win the Gurdy Prize for Excellence in Oncological Medicine. Also, cheers to not murdering me after I came back from Slovenia.” I clinked my glass to hers. “Sláinte.”
“Thank you, and you’re welcome. Cheers.” She clinked her tumbler with mine and sipped her champagne. “Oh, this is the good stuff. It’s excellent.”
“Glad you approve.” I tried my own glass. “Although I have to admit, I’m disappointed that I guess I won’t see you chug it right out of the bottle tonight.”
Something intriguing gleamed in her eye. “Is that a challenge, Deacon Girard? Are you daring me to drink this right from the bottle?”
I choked as I swallowed, waving my free hand. “No. No challenge. I know better than that.”
“Really? Because it sure sounds like you think I couldn’t do it.” She propped a hand on her hip, watching me with an expression of teasing mirth.
“Couldn’t? Nah. Wouldn’t do it?” I lifted one shoulder. “I think you’re too professional and . . . refined to do that in the hospital.”
“Well, you’re right that I am professional, and I’d like to think I’m a little bit refined. At least, my mother hopes I am.” She rolled her eyes. “But it’s almost eight o’clock, most everyone has left for home except the night shift, all of whom are busy with the transition right now, so I feel pretty safe that I can do this without anyone but you seeing it.”
Before I could say another word, Emma picked up the bottle brought it to her lips and began swallowing. She blinked quickly at first as the fizziness of the wine hit her throat, and I began to laugh. She was such a contradiction standing there in her business-dressy skirt and blouse, her hair in a neat twist on the back of her head . . . her neck arched as she gulped her champagne from the bottle.
After a few seconds, she lowered the bottle, gasping in a breath and swiping the back of her hand across her mouth. “Oh, that’s good.” Moving carefully, she placed the bottle back on my desk. “Really good. And stronger than I expected. Holy shit.”
She was so damn beautiful standing there, her cheeks flushed, her chest moving up and down as she tried to catch her breath . . . she made my body ache with wanting her. I couldn’t think beyond the throbbing need. I just wanted her in my arms.
“You have a little drop . . . here.” With fingers that weren’t at all steady, I held her chin still and used my thumb to wipe away the clinging droplet of champagne from her bottom lip. Emma’s eyes slid shut, and her body bowed toward me as if pulled by an irresistible force.
It was more than I could take. I had to hold her now or run away, and I was afraid that there was no place on earth far enough for me to escape my desire for this woman.
I ran my hands from her face down to her shoulders, over her bare arms. She shivered and raised her face to me. I slipped my hands around her waist and drew her against my body.
She