Rush of Redemption (Rush Series #2)

RUSH of REDEMPTION

(Rush Series #2)

By LR Potter

Copyright 2013 LR Potter

This book is a work of
fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the
writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed
as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or
organizations is entirely coincidental.

This
 
ebook
 
is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This
 
ebook
 
may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would
like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy
for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Copyediting and Cover Art
by:

Carolyn
 
Pinard

http://carolynpinardconsults.wordpress.com/

Photos
used with permission by
 
iStock
 
Photography

Acknowledgements

As a writer, it is never
clear which people, places, or events will inspire and drive us to create a
story. A special acknowledgement goes out to the many readers who wanted and
requested more about Rush and Trinity.
 
A very
 
special thanks to my mom and sister who helped work out some of
the finer details; and also to my husband who helped work out the conclusion.
As always
, a
 
very,
very special thanks to my editor and friend who puts up with the crazy on a
daily basis!

~~ Though
nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, or glory in the
flower, we will grieve
 
not,
 
rather
find strength in what remains behind.

William
Wordsworth~~

Prologue

“He met with her today… at the museum,” the fierce-looking man
told the man seated behind his massive desk.

The seated man, 
steepled
 his fingers in front of his face as he
contemplated the information. “So… he knows about the baby?”

“Yes,
sir.”

The seated man sighed
heavily and leaned back in his chair, causing the aged brown leather to creak.
“That’s not good. Not good at all. He won’t be easily dissuaded. He’ll feel
responsible towards her. He’s too much like his father that way.” The man
scrubbed a hand over his face, feeling the grooved lines which proved his age.
“Keep a watch on him and see what happens. Who knows, maybe the situation will
resolve itself.”

“Yes, sir,” the fierce-looking
man responded before quickly exiting the room.

Rubbing his forefinger over
his bottom lip, the seated man mumbled to himself, “I’ll never allow this to
happen…”

Chapter One

A soft tickle against her face drew Trinity Grace from her
slumber. Absently, she lifted a hand to brush against the annoyance. As the
heavy cloak of sleep began to slip away, she became aware of the man pressed
firmly against her back with his arm draped protectively over her protruding
belly. She felt his breath blowing her dark hair gently against her face as he
exhaled in his sleep. As she stared without seeing at the wall facing her,
panic began to claw its way up her spine and flow down into the depths of her
belly. She tensed against it, causing the unborn child nestled there to kick
out in response. She felt the arm around her tighten further, trying to
encompass and protect, she supposed, even in his sleep.

She shifted onto her back
carefully so as not to wake him. Her breath caught in her throat, as it always
did when she took in his austerely beautiful face. In sleep, his face was
relaxed and his dark hair was mussed. His full, sensual lips were parted
slightly, and past memories of what those lips could do to her made her shiver
slightly. Those lips could cause such contrasting sensations, he’d used them to
kiss her softly and to gently nudge her to open up to him; but he also used
them to bruise her mouth when his need become frantic and wild. Just now, in
this moment, she didn’t know which she preferred.

She longed to raise a hand
and trace those lips and the beautiful lines of his god-like face, but she
wanted to study him without his watchful, all-seeing eyes on her. She smiled in
remembrance of the awe he’d exhibited when he’d felt the baby kick gently against
his hand. How he’d fallen to his knees in the middle of the museum and had laid
his cheek against her belly to feel it again. How he’d kissed her belly and
whispered words of love and promised protection to their unborn son.

The immediate smile on her
lips faded as darker thoughts began to skip across her mind. Like a slide
projector, images of her past with him flickered across her memory: the day
she’d first met him at the art gallery; then seeing him at the museum; the
first time they’d made love in his club in Vail; him rushing back when her
office at the gallery had been ransacked; the numerous times they’d made love
in this bed, in the pool, and in the hot tub. Not that those thoughts were
painful, they were just the precursor for the ones that were.

From there the pictures did
became painful: the many times she’d woken in the hospital to find him by her
side, only to have him tell her goodbye over and over again; the night at the
charity ball when he’d shown up with a reigning beauty queen – the same night
she’d discovered she was pregnant. She forced her mind to stop. She couldn’t go
on, it was too painful. What had she done? She swallowed hard as
torrents of emotions flooded her. Her heart clenched painfully in her chest.
This was the man who’d deserted her when she’d needed him most. The man who’d
ensnared her with false words and fake desire. How could she trust him?

Flashes of the pictures
she’d seen of him in recent months in the society pages with a string of
different woman crushed the air from her lungs. While she’d been left damaged
and broken, he’d seemed to move on with ease.
They meant nothing
,
he’d told her about the string of women. Was that what he’d tell whoever
followed her… that she’d meant nothing? She swallowed hard at the thought of
being so casually cast aside… yet again.

The fluttering of his dark
eyelashes was her only warning that Rush Drayton was waking. Those same lashes
opened quickly to reveal the brilliance of his hazel eyes. As sleep receded and
his eyes focused on her, a slow, sexy smile crossed his lips, making her smile
involuntarily in response. Her emotions were bouncing all over the place. She
loved him… wanted him desperately. But could she ever truly trust this man? She
knew he wanted to be a father to their unborn son, but where did she fall in
the mix? He’d said he wanted her to stay with him forever, but fear filled her.
Words were easy to say in the heat of a moment, but when the rubber met the
road, where would he be?

“Hi,” he whispered in the
early, grey morning light. “You okay?”

Was she okay? She didn’t
know so she just nodded her head.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he
murmured.

“Are you?” she asked
tentatively, as fear curled its icy tendrils around her heart.

Rush edged her back onto
her side so he could spoon her from behind once more.

“Yes, very glad,” he
murmured sleepily against her ear as he 
snuggled
 into
her. “It’s where you belong.”

She lay very still until
she felt his even breath against her cheek once more. The persistence of a
nagging headache had her slowly easing from underneath his arm. She knew she
needed to grab some Tylenol quickly to try and stay the oncoming migraine. It’d
been hell dealing with the migraines during her entire pregnancy, as she’d not
been able to take her usual medication.

Slipping successfully away
without waking him, she pulled on the grey linen, button-up shirt he’d worn
earlier. Even being this far along in her pregnancy, the shirt hung on her
rounded frame. She grasped fistfuls of the fabric between her hands and pressed
it against her face as she inhaled deeply. His scent engulfed her and she
sighed. Oh, she had it bad. She thought of all the girlfriends she’d had who’d
swooned over a man and how she’d rolled her eyes at them. But she finally
understood how one man could completely overwhelm a once-rational woman.

With a wry shake of her
head, she went into the living room of Rush’s vast house and quickly rummaged
the tablets from her purse. She glanced around his immaculate kitchen, with its
granite countertops and dark cherry cabinetry and began opening cabinet doors
until she found a glass. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and
poured it, swallowed the pills, and put water on to boil for a much-needed cup
of tea. Once the tea was steeped, she squeezed a small portion of honey into
the brew. Moving idly into the living room, she stood in front of the massive
set of curtain-less windows which gave a spectacular view of the river. At this
time of morning, the river was littered with only a few small fishing boats.
The grayish-brown water lapped soundlessly against the bank, its surface smooth
and glass-like.

As she slowly sipped her
tea, her mind once again returned to the man asleep in the sex-rumpled bed. The
pain she’d felt when she’d discovered his deception stabbed sharply against her
chest just as much today as it had on the day she’d discovered it. She
shuddered at the remembered devastation inflicted upon her at the hands of
those she’d trusted the most in her life: her controlling father; a
manipulating Rush Drayton; and her vengeful godfather, James Franklin. They
each in turn had played a part in turning her life upside down. In a period of
weeks, she’d spent more time in a hospital bed than she’d spent in the entirety
of her life. All of them, along with Rush’s grandfather, had targeted her as a
pawn in their very cruel game. Their paths of destruction, meant to hurt or
extort each other, had all led irrevocably to her. She wondered how she’d
survived it… or if indeed she actually had.

Unable to stop them, the
memories of the past - the memories she’d striven so hard to forget – once more
began to flood her in a mindless torrent of pain and devastation. Images of her
destroyed office and bedroom; of her treasured paintings, lying mangled on the
floor; images of being attacked and left in the alley; and images of being run
down in the street and left there, bruised and broken, like a dog.

Her tea sloshed onto the
coffee table as she set it down with careless and uncoordinated fingers, but
she paid it no mind. She wrapped her arms around herself protectively as the
most hurtful memories of all availed themselves. Memories of going to Rush’s
office and confronting him with what she’d learned and having him affirm their
validity; memories of her SUV exploding outside his building while she’d
watched helplessly and unknowingly; of being kidnapped and tied once again to a
damned chair, just as she’d endured as a child. And memories of taking the
bullet from James Franklin in an effort to protect the people she loved, who
apparently hadn’t had the same affinity for her: her father and Rush Drayton.

He’d told her the day she’d
confronted him with the truth that he loved her… had always loved her, but it’d
been a lie. He’d whispered those same words to her just last night. Why would
she… how could she now trust his declaration of love?

She whimpered at the sudden
excruciating pain the memories evoked. Just as suddenly, sharp tendrils of pain
began to expand behind her eyes. Her doctor had warned her about avoiding
stress, she could definitely see why now. Her stomach became queasy as the pain
intensified. Wanting desperately to be in her own bedroom with the black-out
curtains pulled tight, she called for a taxi and slipped quietly back into the
bedroom to retrieve her clothes. She dressed quickly in the guest-room and left
a note for Rush by the phone, telling him she wasn’t feeling well and had gone
home. She slipped on a pair of sunglasses to help alleviate some of the pain
the sun caused before stepping out of Rush’s house and quietly shutting the
door behind her.

Fifteen minutes later, she
stumbled into her apartment and blessedly shut the door. She kicked off her
shoes and padded to her bedroom. She shut her bedroom door to stop any light
from coming in before closing her curtains tight. The pain in her head
ratcheted up in intensity so that she was forced to sit on the bed’s edge and
grasp her head in her hands. Her stomach roiled but she was afraid if she threw
up, the pain in her head would be unbearable. With shaky limbs, she lay flat
and pressed her pillow over her head, hoping the pressure would stay the pain.

Tears soaked her pillow as
the pain continued to grow. With each beat of her heart, the pain slammed in
her head. How much pain could she take before it killed her? Or at the very
least, drove her insane? Far, far off in the distance, she heard her cellphone
ring out, but she ignored it. After what seemed forever, she drifted off into
an uneasy sleep where she continued to whimper and thrash about as the pain
beat down on her.