Silver Miracles (4 page)

"Definitely. Most of them take months, but I enjoy it and I can make extra money doing it."

"And is making money so important to you?" His eyes were steady on her face.

"Only inasmuch as it helps to feed my daughter and myself." She grinned, totally unperturbed by her plight.

At that moment, Larry walked into the room. "Hey, babe, I’ve got to go, but I took that last batch of cookies out of the oven and gave them to the kids."

Trinity sensed Chase stiffening beside her as Larry stopped, suddenly realizing she wasn’t alone.

"Larry, I’d like you to meet Chase Colfax. Chase, this is Larry Breedlove."

"Are you Lawrence Breedlove the writer?" Chase asked, politely extending his hand.

Larry briefly acknowledged the fact with a nod of his head, withdrawing his hand as soon as he could. It was obvious he had already prejudged Chase—especially now that he knew Trinity might be involved.

"I had heard that you lived around here. I enjoy your books," Chase told him, coolly but sincerely.

"It’s always nice to meet a fan," Larry replied with a blatant curtness, drawing Trinity to him and kissing her on the cheek. "I’ll give you a call tonight. Will you be okay?"

The meaning of his question was not lost on Trinity. "I’ll be fine," she reassured him. Larry turned and walked back out to the kitchen after having dropped a kiss on Joshua’s head. "You be careful driving," Trinity called after him.

When she turned back to Chase, his blue eyes were absolutely frigid, exactly matching his voice. "I thought you told me you didn’t live with a man."

"I don’t." She frowned at him. Trinity rarely got angry—although being accused unjustly of something would do it every time. However, before it came to that, she decided to explain. "Larry is my brother-in-law. He and Sissy are going to Dallas to meet with his agent, and I’m keeping their boys for them."

"Why does he have to call you tonight?"

Okay, now she was mad. Trinity’s green eyes blazed her obvious anger into Chase’s cool countenance. "Figure it out for yourself, Mr. Colfax. What the hell business is it of yours, anyway?" Her hold on Joshua tightened, but the baby continued gumming away happily on the measuring spoons.

"I’m going into Dallas for the day"—a muscle worked in his chiseled jaw—"but I’ll be back this evening. I want you to have dinner with me."

So that explained his business suit, Trinity thought irrelevantly—and he was inviting her to dinner! Her anger disappeared as fast as it had appeared. The fact that she had known this man less than twelve hours didn’t seem to matter to her overinflamed senses.

Joshua had hold of another fistful of his aunt’s hair, and once more. Chase reached out and disentangled her from Joshua’s grasp. This time, he deliberately brushed the strap of her camisole off her shoulder as he did so. One thousand tiny tingles of pleasure ran up her spine, somehow moving into her chest, making it impossible for her to draw a deep breath.

"I—I can’t," she started to explain, just as a howling din started up in the kitchen and Stephanie ran out screaming, "Mommy, Mommy! Tray is painting Ant’ony with red icing!"

"Calm down, sweetheart, calm down. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone dying from being painted with red icing. I’ll take care of it in a minute. Right now I want you to meet a new neighbor of ours, Mr. Colfax. Chase, this is my daughter, Stephanie."

Chase’s face softened imperceptibly as he nodded to the adorable little girl with yellow icing smudged on her cheek. Stephanie, for her part, immediately scooted behind her mother, peering out from around Trinity’s long legs, grinning shyly at the tall, elegant man.

Trinity laughed ruefully—not only at her daughter’s sudden shyness, but at the fact that she could think of more opportune times for World War III to break out among the kids than when Chase Colfax was standing in her living room looking so heart-stoppingly virile.

"Okay"—she sighed—"go back and tell Tray to stop painting Anthony this minute, and I’ll be right there." Trinity shoved Joshua at a startled Chase. "Here, hold him while I go take care of this little fracas . . . no, not like that! He’s a baby, not a rifle. . . . Here." She readjusted Joshua in the strong unfamiliar arms and started toward the kitchen, ignoring Chase’s sharp, "Walt a minute!" but not Joshua’s suddenly unhappy little whimpers.

She turned back and smiled reassuringly. "Now, now, I’m not leaving you, Joshua. I love you and I’ll be right back. In the meantime, you be nice to Mr. Colfax, you hear?" Magically, Joshua’s tiny face cleared, and he started cooing, happily drooling all over his measuring spoons.

Trinity swiveled and walked into the kitchen, finding Tray holding a dripping red paint brush, critically viewing Anthony, who just "happened" to be wearing the same shade of "sugar red" and who was screaming at the top of his lungs.

"Tray, shame on you!" she rebuked him as she picked up his younger brother. "Anthony! You are so pretty and red!" She kissed his face five or six times and confided, "And you taste so good!"

Anthony stopped crying and observed his aunt with interest. Seizing the period of momentary calm, Trinity walked over to the sink and washed his face, arms and neck and blew his nose.

"You didn’t miss a single place, did you, Tray?" she asked in a scoldingly stern voice. Tray’s mouth was turned down, but she could tell he wasn’t sorry about painting his brother—only about the fact that his usually loving aunt was upset with him.

Discovering that she couldn’t really concentrate on discipline when her mind was so completely absorbed with Chase—whose masculine presence seemed to be dominating the next room—she relented. "You and Stephanie go outside and play. I’m going to put the two babies down for a nap, so y’all be quiet."

Tray brightened visibly and grabbed Stephanie to race outside before his aunt could change her mind.

Trinity took a now-clean Anthony into Stephanie’s room, changed his diaper and settled him down on the bed amongst a wide assortment of stuffed animals. He immediately latched onto a tattered pink rabbit, gave a big sigh, rolled over on his tummy and went to sleep.

Smiling to herself as she remembered Anthony’s exhausted little face. Trinity walked back to the living room, coming to a stop in the doorway.

Chase, sitting in her favorite rocking chair, awkwardly but securely holding a fascinated Joshua in his lap, looked immensely relieved to see her. The baby was totally involved in turning what looked to be a genuine sapphire, mounted on a solid gold tie tack, around and around.

"I’ll take him now," Trinity told him. "He needs a change and then a nap. Do me a favor and bring me the diaper bag that’s sitting on the floor by the kitchen table." Taking Joshua into her bedroom, she lay him back on the bed, unsnapping the legs of his overalls.

Chase had gone obediently enough into the kitchen, Trinity observed to herself, but there had been something in his face to suggest that he was not used to taking orders—from anyone. After all, if what Larry had told her was true, Chase Colfax was an extremely wealthy man, answerable to no one.

The man occupying her thoughts walked into the bedroom, carrying the requested diaper bag, and sat stiffly down on the bed, watching her talk softly to Joshua as she changed him.

"You’re very good with children," Chase commented with what seemed like reluctance. "I don’t know too much about kids, but then, I’ve never been around them very much."

"The main thing to know about children is that they are sponges when it comes to receiving love. You can’t give them too much." She smiled down at the little boy, who responded in kind. "Isn’t that right, Joshua?"

It had been gradually dawning on Trinity that Chase wasn’t ill at ease with either her or the femininity of her sunshine-yellow bedroom. Rather, he seemed to be holding himself aloof from the environment of her home—as if he had no intention of letting himself get too used to a warm home containing love and children.

Evidently, though, he couldn’t help his curiosity. "Why did you come back, after you had handed the baby to me and were halfway out of the room?"

Trinity glanced at him. What a complex man Chase was—and one who, for better or worse, interested her greatly. "Because Joshua trusts me and I wanted to make certain he knew I wasn’t deserting him. He might not have understood my words, but he could understand my tone."

Chase looked at Trinity as though he had never encountered anyone quite like her before, then stated softly, "He smells like you."

"I beg your pardon?"

"The baby. You must have held him for so long that he picked up the scent of the perfume you wear. While you were out of the room, the smell of you stayed with me."

"Oh," was the only response she could manage for the moment. Nestling Joshua and his bottle on a pallet of quilts on the bed, she arranged pillows completely around him so that he wouldn’t roll around too much. "Come on, we’ll go out to the front porch," she directed, unconsciously giving Chase another order.

Once out on the porch, Trinity breathed deeply of the fresh, pine-scented air, trying to dispel her awareness of the man who had followed her out of the house. The leaves were already starting to change, and soon it would be Indian summer, one of her favorite times of the year.

"Why can’t you?"

At the sound of his voice, she turned to find Chase’s eyes trained on her. All of the impressions she had formed about him the night before had been right. Everything that Larry had told her about him only reconfirmed it.

Chase was a wary man, surprisingly closed off from people around him. Except her. He responded to her on some fundamental level—just as she did to him.

And his eyes. They were an ice blue. She had seen them flame with desire. Was it possible that they could ever melt with tenderness?

"Why can’t I what?"

"Come to dinner with me."

"I told you. I’m baby-sitting the boys tonight."

"That’s simple enough. I’ll hire someone to stay with them while we’re gone."

What had he said last night? Oh, yes. He had said, "I find that most things I want have a price."

"No."

Chase looked at her broodingly, his gaze going down to her full lips . . . then traveling to the shadowed cleavage revealed by the low-cut camisole . . . and then on to the hard nipples of her unconfined breasts jutting against the thin knit of the top.

"Then tomorrow night."

Despite her best intentions, Trinity found herself thinking of the way he had kissed her. His kisses had been like a slow fire, burning their way through her, and they had left her wondering what more of his lovemaking would be like. Trouble, she told herself. That’s what it would be like.

"All right." She almost groaned at her answer.

Chase ran a finger caressingly across her collarbone. "Why is someone like you buried down here?"

His voice. Oh, that voice! As sharp as it could be at times, it could also turn to velvet—a hypnotic velvet.

"I’m not buried," she returned huskily. "I’m alive and I love living here. There are no restrictions. I can’t imagine raising children in a city. Here they have complete freedom, plus the learning experience of being raised on a farm."

Chase looked down toward the pool for a long moment—and when he looked back, his eyes pierced straight through Trinity with the force of a blue-hot laser.

"I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at seven-thirty," he grated roughly, "but this will have to hold me until then."

All at once, Trinity realized that she had been waiting unknowingly for Chase to take her in his arms, and he certainly didn’t disappoint her. The kiss was a very thorough and effective assault on her already heated senses. Capturing her lips. Chase moved his mouth hungrily across hers in a devouring possession.

Running his hands over her body and down to her softly rounded bottom, he pulled her tightly against his own hardened need, making his masculine excitement very apparent. "See what you do to me, wild child that you are?"

Trinity couldn’t speak—she could barely think, because Chase’s tongue had engaged hers in a gentle skirmish of pleasure, with him the eventual winner by mutual, unspoken consent. Drawing her tongue into his mouth, he sucked it with a slow, gentle motion, savoring almost every inch of it with the muscles in his mouth and causing her to moan with an undisguised longing.

There had been no man since Stephen. She had dated occasionally, but not seriously. Being alone, she had not been lonely.

But now there was Chase, and their impact on each other was undeniable. Their relationship had the detonation potential of pure nitroglycerin. Trinity had always heard it could happen like this, even though, now that it had happened to her, she wasn’t sure how to handle it.

However, it didn’t seem to matter right at this moment, and her hands went up into the silver thickness of his hair, pulling his mouth even harder against her own. Trinity felt his fingers inside her camisole, unbuttoning the garment and gathering her firm breast into his hand. Kneading it gently, Chase flicked the already distended nipple with his thumb, pausing . . . then squeezing it tightly, causing thrilling shocks to surge through her, all of them converging in the very core of her womanhood.

Nudging apart her legs, his leg applied a hard pressure up against the juncture where her jean-clad thighs joined her body. "That’s where I want to be," he said huskily into her ear, outlining it with his tongue.

In a kind of basic seeking and wanting, Trinity leaned into him, and heaven, but it felt so good! If they had been alone, there was no telling where the kiss would have ended. As it was, the sound of Tray and Stephanie’s racing around the side of the house was the only thing that could have parted them.

Chase drew a ragged breath, took one last look at her and vaulted down the porch steps to his car.

Watching him whoosh away in an exotic red machine, Trinity buttoned her camisole with shaking fingers. Larry was probably right, she decided. She should stay away from Chase Colfax.

But he had walked out of the silver moonlight and into the quiet of her life with an explosive power she couldn’t ignore. And now, tomorrow evening stretched before her with a tantalizing potence.