The Seduction Request. Michelle Celmer

seat felt a lot smaller with him sitting on it. They were so close, she could feel the heat of his thigh where it almost touched her own.

      Though it was eons ago, she still remembered what it felt like to be close to him. To feel those hard planes of muscle in his chest and stomach, his weight pressing her into the cool sand. Being with Matt had been everything she’d ever imagined—more than she’d ever hoped for. It had scared her as much as it thrilled her. And the tenderness he’d shown her had been completely unexpected. Foolishly she’d thought that meant he loved her.

      After all they’d been through together, when all was said and done, she’d been nothing but a conquest to him. All those years of friendship had meant nothing. And now, with all that money he couldn’t spend fast enough, she was sure he’d also raised his standards. She was the same unfeminine, in-your-face-girl she’d been back in high school. She hadn’t been good enough for him before, and she certainly wouldn’t be now, even if she wanted to be. Which she absolutely did not.

      “Ty mentioned that you have a boyfriend. My being here won’t bother him?” Matt asked.

      Boyfriend. Now there’s a term she used rather loosely. It wasn’t as if she’d actually told her parents she and Alex were anything but good friends. They’d assumed, and she’d never set them straight.

      “No, he wouldn’t mind. He’s not the jealous type.” Not when it came to women, anyway. Not only was Alex not her significant other, he was very gay. Flaming at times.

      Matt looked down, suddenly enthralled by his pizza. “I’d like to meet him. You should bring him around the restaurant some time.”

      Emily almost laughed. “You still can’t lie worth a damn, Conway.”

      His head shot up, a combination of guilt and surprise on his face.

      “My brother can’t stand Alex. And he probably told you that. So I seriously doubt you’re all that jazzed about meeting him.”

      “You work with him?”

      “His mother owns the nursery.”

      Matt gazed around the apartment. Considering her living conditions, this guy obviously wasn’t paying her enough. What furniture she did have looked hand-me-down, and with the exception of the twenty or so plants hanging throughout the apartment, it was sparsely decorated. No art hanging on the walls. No photos.

      Ty hadn’t been exaggerating. This boyfriend of Emily’s did sound like a jerk. Abandoning Emily and leaving her to run his mother’s company while he was out partying was pretty low. And with a girlfriend as attractive as Emily, how could the guy not be jealous when she invited other men into her apartment? If Emily were Matt’s girlfriend, she wouldn’t be hanging out with other men. And she wouldn’t be living in a matchbox. She would have the best of everything—anything her heart desired.

      If she were his girlfriend?

      Where the hell had that come from? As unfit as this Alex guy was for Emily, Matt was no more properly suited. God only knows where he’d squeeze her into his schedule.

      His cell phone rang and Matt checked the display, cursing under his breath. His lawyer. He was awaiting information on the code-violation issue. This could be either really good or really bad news.

      “I have to take this.”

      He answered the phone, and, as he’d expected, it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. The violation was legitimate, and their only recourse at this time would be to meet the inspector’s demands, or file a lawsuit against the city. Suing Chapel would guaranty the restaurant’s failure.

      Emily made an impatient noise beside him and Matt had the feeling she wasn’t thrilled with the interruption. Now was not the time to be getting on her bad side. Though it was against every principle of business he’d learned, he told his lawyer he’d call him back later, shut the phone off and hooked it back on his belt.

      “Sorry about that,” he said.

      “So, Conway.” Emily twisted the top off her beer. “You’ve got me here. What do you want?”

      “What do you mean?”

      She took a bite of her pizza and washed it down with a swallow of beer. “After eleven years and no word from you, there has to a reason why you’ve suddenly popped back into my life.”

      He’d thought he’d be able to flub his way through this and skirt around the truth. She never had been one to sit back and let life happen around her. He should have known she would come right out and bluntly ask him what he was up to. He should have expected it.

      “I’m reconnecting,” he said, which wasn’t completely untrue. “The relationships I’ve been finding myself in lately have been…unsatisfying.”

      “What’s wrong, the California girls aren’t putting out? Or have you slept with them all already?”

      “No, there are a few I’ve yet to violate.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the edge of her mouth lift. “By unsatisfying, I mean shallow.”

      “So what, you expected to come back and just pick up where you left off?”

      “That was sort of the plan. I’d like us to be friends, Emily.”

      She made a huffing sound. “I’m not crazy about your definition of friendship, Conway.”

      “Look, I know I should have kept in touch. You probably won’t believe this, but I never wanted to hurt you.”

      “But you did.”

      The accusation felt like a knife in his gut. He pushed his plate away, his appetite a memory. “People make mistakes. You could cut me a little slack.” The second the words were out, when her eyes turned stone-cold, he knew it was a mistake.

      She got up and walked to the door, pulled it open and motioned outside. “Goodbye.”

      “You’re kicking me out?”

      “I said you could stay for dinner. And I don’t know about you, but I’ve lost my appetite.”

      He rose from the love seat, balling his napkin and tossing it onto the table. “You were never one to play games, Emily.”

      “I’m not the one playing games, Conway.”

      He had a lot of nerve, coming here, manipulating her, then accusing her of playing games. He wanted her to cut him some slack. She wasn’t the one who’d stopped writing, stopped calling. She wasn’t the one who’d stayed away for eleven years.

      She opened the door wider.

      “Is this your way of saying you don’t want to be friends?”

      “I was your friend. That’s one mistake I won’t be making again.”

      This time her heart might not survive.

      Emily rested her head against the lush ivy twining the cedar arbor, inhaling the sweet scents of her mother’s flower garden. Amber clouds streaked the sky as the sun dipped below the horizon and a warm breeze caressed her face. Ordinarily, surrounding herself with nature worked like a salve on her frayed nerves, but it was family dinner night at her parents’ house.

      Her least favorite, and most nerve-racking Friday of the month.

      Nothing short of hospitalization or death held up as a legitimate excuse to miss it. Her parents liked to stay actively involved in her life, which equated to two hours of them telling her exactly what she was doing wrong and how to fix it, while Emily smiled, nodded and tried not to scream. Not that she didn’t love her family dearly, but she’d given up trying to please them a long time ago.

      And, as if spending the evening with her parents wasn’t bad enough, they’d excitedly informed her that Matt was joining them tonight. Given their level of enthusiasm and the extravagant meal her mother was preparing, one might have thought the President was coming to dinner.

      She