that he’d begun on the renovations project, he wanted to make more progress.
He had a notepad and a pen and paper and was compiling a list of steps in the process. First he would need permission from the local council to extend the building. He also needed to see Renita Thatcher at the bank to apply for a loan to cover the costs and work out a realistic repayment plan.
Billy was in a bouncy seat on the floor in front of the TV, enthralled with Dancing with the Stars. The volume was down low in deference to Emma, who was working on her term paper in the bedroom.
Her breakthrough in her relationship with Billy was obvious even though she hadn’t said anything. She was playing with him more and cuddled and sang to him the way she used to with Holly. Darcy felt better knowing she would be able to love and care for her baby the way she longed to when she was on her own again.
Darcy tried to focus on his plans but the show was doing a special on Latin dancing and before long his gaze drifted to the dancers on the screen. The rumba reminded him of dancing with Emma on the cruise. He reached for the TV control and turned the volume up a little. “Pretty cool, hey, Billy? You should see your mum and I on the dance floor.”
Emma walked into the room and perched on the arm of the couch. She wore a simple sleeveless dress of some soft material. Her hair was loose and her feet bare. “I heard music. What’s this?”
Darcy reached for the control again to turn it down. “I didn’t mean to disturb your work.”
“It’s okay. I could use a break.” She watched for a moment and within seconds her foot was tapping to the beat. “What do you say we show Billy our moves?”
“Em, you know what happens when we dance.” He wanted to, no question, but regrets always seemed to follow the high of intimacy. Their relationship was way out of balance and had been for a long time.
“I know it doesn’t jibe with what I said yesterday.” Now her shoulders were moving. “I know we’re not going anywhere. But when we dance, I feel good. I forget about the bad stuff.” Her eyes pleaded with him to understand.
And he did, because he felt the same. When they were one with the music and with each other, everything else fell away. For a time.
He got to his feet and took her hand. “We’re our own worst enemies.”
In answer she twirled beneath his arm to finish snug against his front, her face tilted up to his. Her smile kicked his heart rate up a notch. He turned up the volume and tossed the control on the couch.
The floor space was tiny but that only made the holds tighter, the spins more controlled. Darcy was breathing shallowly even though they weren’t exerting themselves. Doing the rumba on the spot was kind of like making love standing up—without removing any clothes.
That could be rectified. He slipped down the strap of Emma’s dress and pressed a kiss to the hollow between her shoulder and neck. In the privacy of this room he reverted to the way they used to dance in their own home—as if no one was watching. His hands moved over her, roaming boldly from breast to hip to linger at the junction of her thighs while his hips swiveled and pushed against her back.
The song ended and a commercial came on. Before the mood could be broken he grabbed the controller and flipped the amp onto a radio station that played Latin music. Effortlessly they adjusted their steps to a tango, wrapping their arms around each other’s waists and, cheek to cheek, arms outstretched, glided across the floor.
Turning to face him, Emma held his gaze as she undid the buttons on his shirt. No woman did sultry like Emma. He could feel his pulse rate soar as she slid her hand slowly up his bare chest. Then tweaked his nipples. He’d been hard from the opening bars but now his cock was like granite. He reached around and undid her zipper. The dress slithered down with a little help over her gyrating hips and she kicked it away.
Her face was raised to his, and Darcy leaned down to take her mouth in a long slow deep kiss that lasted until the rest of their clothes were abandoned.
“You’re beautiful.”