She stroked and tugged, her pulse pounding loud in her ears, her abdomen hard and tight. A fist of pressure clenched and spread.

Yes. The soft pull of a warm mouth enclosed her. She shuddered. Just like that. She rocked, clasped the neck of the woman kneeling between her thighs, slid her fingers into long silky strands of dark wet hair, drawing the pale face closer, the relentless mouth nearer. Muscles flexing, hips lifting, pushing, thrusting, moaning, she strained for the connection, for the ultimate union.

Yes. Close. Pleasure spiked, pierced her center. Eyes squeezed shut, she clawed toward the peak. Breathless, lungs burning, loins aching. She had to, had to, had to… Don’t stop. Don’t stop.

Behind closed lids, she saw herself looking down, met the eyes of the woman looking back, watched the glint of triumph when the soft circle of lips drew her in, pushed her over. Yes. Yes! You’ll make me come.

The orgasm jolted her. Her hips jerked, once, twice, three times, and she shot out an arm to catch her balance. She moaned, a long sigh of relief. God. When had she last come so hard? Thighs loose, heart hammering against her ribs, she quickly finished showering, dried off, and dressed, all the while aware she’d just imagined Emily May making her come.

Just a trick of the unconscious. Nothing more.

She walked through the park, a glint of early a.m. sun snaking down through the trees, most of which were just beginning to leaf out. The air, not yet fouled by exhaust, hinted at spring. Aud was already ensconced in a booth with a steaming cup of coffee in front of her and another across from her. Derian slid in. “Morning.”

“Hi. I ordered for us.”

Derian added cream and sipped the strong brew. “What did you get me?”

“Please,” Aud teased. “It hasn’t been that long. Like I could forget what you’ve ordered for the last ten years? Fried egg and bacon on English.”

“Thanks.”

Aud looked ready for a day at the office, sharp and fashionable in a gray pinstripe jacket, a textured linen shirt in a paler shade of gray, and a diamond pendent set in dusky gold glinting in the hollow of her throat. A matching bracelet circled her right wrist and a gold Rolex adorned her left. One ring—an engraved signet—gleamed on her right hand. Not showy, but everything about her spoke of power and privilege. The look suited her well. Derian doubted she actually spent much time in court. Corporate lawyers with wealthy clients like Winfield Enterprises usually settled issues with money. Long drawn-out court battles just interfered with business as usual, and that’s what really mattered. That the money kept flowing.

“Any word on HW?” Aud’s shoulder-length blond hair framed her face in loose layers, and her clear green eyes regarded Derian with questions. For an instant, she looked like the tender, supportive confidant she’d once been.

“I haven’t heard anything from the hospital, so I hope that’s a good sign.” Derian’s chest tightened and she pulled herself out of the past. She and Aud were strangers now, their bond one of shared memories, memories of different times, when they’d been different people. “I’m going to run by there when we’re done.”

“Have you talked to Martin?”

“Why would I?”

Aud sighed. “Because he’s your father?”

“Come on, Aud. You know better than that.”

“Life would be a lot easier if the two of you would actually communicate now and then.”

“Easier for who? For you, probably. Definitely not for me.”

“You know he wants you in the business.”

“No, he doesn’t. Not unless I undergo a personality transplant and change my internal wiring at the same time.”

“You are a voting member of the company, and—”

“Right. That’s what matters to him, that we present a solid front. I’m not going down that road. Maybe I got lucky and nature did me a favor.” Derian rubbed the faint headache between her eyes. “You know I’m not cut out for business, even if I was capable.”

“Oh, come on.” Aud sighed in exasperation. “You’re perfectly capable. You’ve got a mind like a calculator and we both know it. So does Martin.”

“Maybe so.” Derian took a bite of the sandwich the waitress slid onto the table in a quick wordless pass. Funny, the old favorite had lost its appeal, like so many things that shone in hindsight and paled in the present. “But the last time I attended a board meeting—”

“Uh, excuse me? When was that—three, four years ago?” Aud speared a section of omelet and shook her head. “The board members might be inclined to take you more seriously if you actually showed up now and then.”

“They made it perfectly clear I would never sit in the big seat.” Derian sipped her rapidly cooling coffee. “I think I heard the words image and irresponsible tossed around quite a lot.”

“You could change that, Dere. All you’d have to do is come home, show some interest.”

“Sure, if I had any interest, which I don’t.”

“God, you’re stubborn.”

“And you’re not?” Derian pushed her plate away. “Have you ever thought you’re starting to sound an awful lot like Martin?”

Aud’s eyes cooled. “I’m your friend, Derian. And I also happen to be looking out for your interests, even if you like to pretend they don’t matter.”

Derian blew out a breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” Aud smiled faintly. “I’m just trying to get you to look further ahead than your next race. You’re in line to inherit, and it might be good if you and Martin were on speaking terms so you’d have some idea—”

“You mean he hasn’t changed his will yet and made Daniel his heir?”

“You know I can’t talk about that.”

But there was something in her eyes. “He has. But he can’t cut me out all altogether, can he? Because of the terms of my trust fund.”

“I can’t comment on that.”

“But you know, and you still push me to return to the fold. Why?”

“Because you’re wasting your life, Dere,” Aud snapped.

Derian laughed. “Really? This from someone who copped out? Whatever happened to family law and serving the public sector?”

“It’s not a cop-out to follow family tradition,” Aud said stiffly.

“It is when it’s not what you wanted.”

“Maybe when I was eighteen I didn’t know what I wanted.”

“Maybe when you were eighteen you did, and now you’ve forgotten.”

“I’m happy with what I’m doing, proud of my work.”

“And I’m happy with my life.”

Aud’s shoulders sagged and she slumped back in the booth. “Do we always have to fight when we see each other?”

“Maybe we wouldn’t if you’d stop trying to talk me into a suit and an office.”

“Maybe I just miss you? Maybe I’d like to see you more than every year or so. Dammit, Derian. I love you.”

Derian let out a slow breath. “Come on, Aud. We’ve been down that road too.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do.” Next to HW, Aud was the person who knew her best, who she trusted the most, even after all they’d been through. They’d grown up together, dreamed together, been best friends, and briefly, sweetly, young lovers. They’d managed to stay friends even after their romantic stage had waned, at least until the halcyon days of college ended and they’d had to move on. They’d both made choices that had taken them in opposite directions, but she still remembered the dreams, and the sweetness. “I miss you too.”

“Enough of this.” Aud reached across the table and took her hand. “I’m sorry about Henrietta. She’s going to be all right.”

Derian squeezed Aud’s hand, and for a moment, she remembered when the two of them stood against the world. “She damn well has to be.”


*


Emily woke before her alarm, switched it off, and padded into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. At just after six, she cradled the mug in front of the window, wrapped in her favorite pink fuzzy robe, thinking about the day ahead. And purposefully not thinking about the night before. When snippets of conversation floated into her head, or some tactile memory of Derian’s hand on her arm flooded through her, she firmly set the images aside.

Mentally, she constructed her to-do list. She needed to get to the office to confer with Vonnie about covering Henrietta’s appointments. More importantly, she wanted to assure everyone that business as usual would continue. She was familiar with the day-to-day workload after six years at Henrietta’s side. She’d already taken on most of the manuscript review and contract negotiations, and she’d just have to make room in her day for the ones Henrietta still handled. She’d find a way. As soon as everyone was in, she’d schedule a meeting with the division managers and get updates on all the current projects. Thankfully, Winfield’s staff were experienced and loyal—they’d all pull together until Henrietta returned.

Emily’s throat tightened. Of course she would return. Resolutely, she washed her cup, set it on the drainboard, and dressed. As much as she wanted to go directly to the hospital, she’d be doing more for Henrietta to take care of the agency Henrietta had nurtured and grown for thirty years than to sit outside her hospital room worrying. Besides, Derian was there, Henrietta’s family, to take care of her. So she would take care of the agency, her family.

Taking care of family was what mattered more than anything else, and she had to put that first, as she always had.

She checked her watch. Seven p.m. in Singapore. Pam would probably be in bed, but that didn’t matter. She just needed to reach out to the rest of her family. Her call was picked up after half a dozen rings.

“Alexandra Residential Care Center. How may I direct your call?”

“Floor three, please.”