by Lori Foster
“That’s what I’d do.”
No. Priss would go after the one responsible. Trace had to give thanks that Alani had the good sense to leave the destruction of bad guys to him.
“She’s an interior decorator or something, right?”
“Yes.” Trace brushed his thumb over Priss’s knuckles. Other than Dare, he hadn’t talked with anyone about Alani. But talking to Priss felt right. “I backed her financially and helped her get set up, so she owns her own design business. She can set her own hours, but instead of taking it easy, she puts in fifty-hour weeks or more.”
That amused Priss. “So even though you’re rich, and even though you’ve probably done your best to spoil her, she still has a great work ethic.”
Pride swelled inside him. “I tried to give her every advantage, yeah. But she’s still grounded.” Still very sweet and unspoiled.
Like Priss. She’d never had anyone to spoil her, but that would change now. Her mother’s fear had handicapped her upbringing, depriving her of so much. Trace had the means to give her a taste of everything she’d missed, and then some.
He was due a little time off. Unless Dare or Jackson needed him, he’d be free to dedicate plenty of attention to Priss. That decision was as much for him as it was for her. Even in the middle of chaos, he wanted her. Maybe with enough alone time, he’d finally be able to blunt the sharp edge of need.
But probably not. And truthfully, he was starting to enjoy the way she made him feel.
AFTER DROPPING HER OFF to “visit with Molly and Dare” earlier that day, Trace had left her. He hadn’t specified where he was going, or when he’d be back, but he’d already been gone for hours.
Dare was working in the yard, and Molly got a phone call from her agent, so Priss decided to swim in the lake. Chris and Matt were already down there, and the animals—including Liger—had joined them. With the sun so bright and the sky so blue, a swim just might cool her temper.
It wasn’t that she needed Trace’s constant attention, but she resented the secrecy surrounding his absence today.
For two months now, they’d spent the better part of each day together. Trace woke her with kisses, held her while she slept, and between those times he alternately made love to her and treated her to one adventure after another.
She was happy. Happier than she’d ever known possible, and with every minute, she loved him more.
Normally she’d be worried about the shop after being away so long. But she and Trace had been there twice to check on things, and surprisingly, Gary did a great job running it. Once the responsibility fell to him, he’d stepped up and proven to be even more attentive to details than Priss herself. During each visit, she’d found the shop well organized, the stock in order, all the computer work up-to-date and not even a speck of dust marring the appearance.
It was nice not having to think about the shop.
In fact, she didn’t have to think about much of anything. Maybe that was part of the problem. She was so used to focusing on how she’d get to Murray, how she’d make him pay, and now…she felt in limbo.
Blast him. Where had Trace gone and why did he still not confide in her?
As Priss strode onto the sun-warmed dock, the dogs looked up at her, and Liger stirred. He tended to trail the dogs wherever they went, but he drew the line at actually getting in the water. He’d walk along the shore on the rock retaining wall, and the fish fascinated him. But most of all he’d taken to sunning himself. Now, with Priss smiling at him, he got up to wind in and around her bare legs.
“You’ve been even more pampered than me, haven’t you?”
Liger brushed his teeth over her knee, gave her one of his sweet meows and then fell to his back again, stretching out and closing his eyes.
Matt popped up over the end of the dock. “He’s really taken over running the place.”
“I can see that.” Liger got attention from everyone, sat where he wanted, slept when he felt like it, and enjoyed playing with Sargie and Tai. While she and Trace traveled, Chris insisted on keeping the cat. Liger didn’t need constant supervision, but Chris had gotten close to him, and vice versa.
With Liger now resting, Priss pulled off her cover-up.
Matt whistled. “Nice suit.”
She looked down at herself. The suit was pretty basic; beige with no adornment, not an itty-bitty bikini but not overly modest, either. It was almost the exact color as her skin, so it didn’t clash with anything, but the material was thick enough to conceal all things vital. “It’s the first one I’ve ever owned. It looks okay?”
Chris swam over to the dock, too. Crossing his forearms over the end, he surveyed her. “Trace hasn’t seen it yet, has he?”
She shook her head, and tried not to sound sour when she said, “He’s out and about somewhere.” She flapped a hand. “Don’t know where, and I don’t know when he’ll be back.”
Matt dunked his head, then came up for air. His bleached hair stood in wet, spiky disarray, but as always, he looked good. “I’m surprised anyone could separate you two.” He swiped water from his face. “It’s been what? A couple of months together now, right? All of it nonstop clinginess.”
Dropping her towel and cover-up on a chair, Priss pretended annoyance. “Why are you here again?”
He preened theatrically. “Molly liked what I did with your hair so much that I do hers now, too. Dare even added a regular salon room in the basement for me. Makes it pretty easy to work and it saves Molly from having to suffer through the crowds and incompetence in town.”
Priss was willing to bet that Dare enjoyed knowing Molly was safe. They all trusted Matt, as far as it went, and he did do fabulous work.
Chris still hung off the end of the dock looking all too serious. “So.” He splashed Priss with a cupped hand. “What exactly are you doing down here?”
“I’m getting ready to swim with you guys.”
“No, I meant with Trace.” He glanced past her up the hill toward the house, then back again. “If that suit is supposed to push him over the edge, I’m guessing it’ll work.”
Priss doubted anyone or anything could push Trace anywhere that he didn’t intend to go. “I needed a suit, so I bought one.” She sat on the end of the dock next to Chris and let her feet dangle in the water. “And why do you always attribute ridiculous childish emotions to everything I do?”
He shook his head. “Just wondering why you haven’t yet told Trace how you feel.”
“How do you know I haven’t?”
Matt laughed. “Your baleful expressions of discontent?”
Chris just stared at her, waiting.
Fine, why not be honest? “I don’t know how he feels, that’s why.”
“That’s so lame.” Chris splashed her again, harder this time, so that the water hit her in the face. “Who says the guy has to spill his guts first?”
Her temper sparked. “I’ve spilled plenty of guts for him! I confided in him about my mother long before he’d tell me anything. Do you know how long it took him to even admit—”
Matt said, “La, la, la…” and wisely dunked his head under the water again.
“—that he was undercover?”
“You know why,” Chris told her.
It annoyed Priss that she’d forgotten to be cautious. Obviously Matt was a welcome, trusted friend, but he wasn’t in on the business, and she knew better than to mention anything about it. “In the beginning, sure.”
“And now?”
“Now I don’t need him to tell me.” She looked out across the water. “I’ve figured it all out.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“He took off again today, all hush-hush, and still didn’t trust me enough to say where he had to go.”
Matt resurfaced. “Sorry.” He gasped for air. “Can’t hold my breath any longer.”
“No problem,” Priss told him. Maybe she’d catch Chris later and talk with him more, but for now, she’d show some discretion. “Conversation
is over. I’m ready to swim.”
Chris tilted his head to study her. “You’re getting red.”
“I am not embarrassed about any of this.”
He rolled his eyes. “I meant from the sun. You need sunscreen if you’re going to be down here. The water reflects everything, and you’re fair-skinned.”
“Oh.” She looked at her shoulders with disinterest. Indeed, they were already turning pink.
Matt swam over to the ladder and climbed out. Just as Sargie and Tai might do, he shook off excess water, sprinkling Priss in the process. “I’ll do it.”
She eyed him. “It?”
“Put sunscreen on you.” He dripped water beside her as he held out a hand. “Up.”
After she took his hand, he hauled her to her feet. Picking up the big tube of sunscreen, Matt filled his palm. While he spread it over her shoulders and back, he said, “You know, all kidding aside, I like you, Priss. You’re a good sort.”
“Ditto.” What brought that on?
“I don’t like seeing you unhappy.” Before she could object, he continued, “I know. You and Trace have been hitting it off. You’ve enjoyed every moment. You’re deliriously happy.”
She frowned at him. “I would never be that dramatic.” But the description sounded about right to her.
He cupped her shoulders and smiled down at her. It was a very brotherly look, and Priss enjoyed it. She hadn’t thought to stay friends with anyone, but now she knew that, even if things didn’t work out between Trace and her, she’d keep in touch with these people. She liked them all a lot. She was especially taken with Matt.
Until he said, “It’s time to fess up, hon. Tell Trace how much you care. You’ll feel better when you do.”
Climbing up the ladder, Chris said, “Better sooner than later.” He nodded at the hillside behind them. “Because here comes Trace, and he doesn’t look happy.”
Both Priss and Matt turned, Priss with anticipation, Matt with tempered dread.
Dressed in jeans and a snowy-white T-shirt, Trace stalked down the hill.
Priss shielded her eyes to better see him. When he’d left, being so guarded about his mission, she’d half wondered if he’d return before dinner.
Trace wore reflective sunglasses, so she couldn’t see his eyes, but his entire demeanor—heavy stride, rigid shoulders, tight jaw—bespoke annoyance.
As soon as he was close enough, Priss called out, “What’s wrong?”
Without answering her, Trace continued onto the dock. He didn’t stop until he stood right in front of…Matt.
Backing up to the edge of the dock, Matt said, “Uh… Hello?”
Trace didn’t say a thing; he just pushed Matt into the water.
Arms and legs flailing out, Matt hit the surface with a cannonball effect.
Stunned, Priss shoved his shoulder. “What the hell, Trace! Why did you do that?”
Trace took off his sunglasses and looked at her, all of her, from her hair to her body and down to her bare toes. After working his jaw a second, he said, “If you need sunscreen, ask me.”
Her mouth fell open. Of all the nerve! He left her at Dare’s, took off without telling her a damn thing and then had the audacity to complain when a friend tried to keep her from getting sunburned. “Maybe I would have, if you’d been here!”
“I’m here now.”
Emotions bubbled over. “So you are.” With a slow smile, Priss put both hands on his chest. The shirt was damp with sweat, the cotton so soft that she could feel every muscle beneath. “And you look a little…heated.”
Trace’s beautiful eyes darkened, and he reached for her.
“A dip will cool you down.” Priss shoved him as hard as she could. Taken by surprise, fully dressed, Trace went floundering backward off the end of the dock.
Priss caught a glimpse of the priceless expression of disbelief on Trace’s face before he went under the water.
Excited by the activity, the dogs leaped in after him. Liger roused himself enough to move out of the line of splashing.
Chris climbed up the ladder. “So that’s the new game, huh?” He laughed as he scooped Priss up into his arms.
“Chris!” She made a grab for his shoulders. “Put me down!”
“Afraid not, doll.” Just as Trace resurfaced, Chris jumped in with her. They landed between the swimming dogs.
Sputtering, her hair in her face and her skin chilled from the shock of the cold water, Priss cursed. Trace had already waded toward the shallower water off the side of the dock. His fair hair was flattened to his head and his T-shirt stuck to his body.
“Wait!” Priss shouted at him.
He was still waist-deep as he turned to glare at her.
Kicking and splashing, Priss doggy-paddled over to him, grabbed his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist. “Oh, no, you don’t!”
Startled, Trace scooped her bottom in his hands and struggled for balance on the squishy mud bottom of the lake. “What the hell?” And then lower, “You look naked in this damn suit.”
Matt and Chris found that hilarious.
Priss looked at Trace’s handsome face, a face she loved, and she kissed him. Hard.
For only a second, he allowed the sensual assault. He even kissed her back. Then he levered away from her. “You ruined my clothes, damn it.”
“Only because you were being a jealous jerk.”
His expression dark, he glared toward Matt.
Chris started humming, but poor Matt said, “Yeah,” and shrugged. “If you think about it, you’ll agree that you sort of were—and we both know there’s no reason.”
Trace started to wade toward Matt, still with Priss wrapped around him, and she blurted, “I love you, Trace.”
That effectively drew him to a halt. His hands contracted on her backside. “What?”
“I love you.” Then she pointed at Chris, and to where Matt had disappeared. “They told me to fess up, so I am, and if you reject me, I swear I’ll drown them both.”
Very slowly, Trace’s expression changed from the heat of anger to a different type of heat. “Say it again.”
“Why?” She frowned at him with challenge. “Why don’t you say something first?”
“All right.” Sliding his hands up her back, over her shoulders, and into her wet hair, he kissed her. “You make me nuts, Priscilla.” He turned his head and kissed her again, a little longer that time. “You make me hot as hell, too.”
“I love you,” Priss reminded him, hoping it might prompt him to a more telling declaration.
His next kiss lasted long enough to take the chill off the lake, and Priss got so wrapped up in the taste of him that she almost forgot what she wanted to hear.
Chris didn’t. From the dock, he said, “If you’re going to keep her waiting like this, someone needs to finish putting sunscreen on her.”
Trace moved fast, grabbing for Chris’s ankle, but Chris jumped back out of reach.
Priss, feeling very affected by that kiss, nuzzled Trace’s neck and stroked his shoulders. He smelled delicious, felt even better. “Stop being a voyeur, Chris, and go away.”
Having joined Chris on the dock, Matt asked, “Does that mean I can stay?”
Trace lurched forward again, and Matt jumped back so quick he fell on his butt. “I’m going, I’m going!”
To bring Trace’s attention back to her, Priss bit him. Not a hard bite, but she left the impression of her sharp teeth on that sensitive spot where his neck met his shoulder.
Trace shuddered. “I love you, too.”
She licked the bite mark. “I’m so glad.”
He hefted her higher and waded over to the rock retaining wall built along the shoreline. He sat Priss down on a smooth slab of rock, looked at her in the bathing suit, and shook his head. “It should be illegal for a woman to look as good as you do.”
“Really?” She peered down at herself again, but saw nothing all that spectacular. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I
love it. I love you.” He dug in his pocket. “When I left today, it was for this.”
Speechless, Priss watched as he opened a now-wet jeweler’s box. Inside, securely nestled in velvet, was a beautiful diamond engagement ring. Her heart nearly stopped.
“I wanted it to be a surprise.”
There were no words. Her eyes suddenly burned and her throat went tight.
Trace took her hand and slipped the ring on her finger. The fit was perfect, but then, anything Trace did, he did right.
“Priss?” Using the edge of his fist, he lifted her chin. “We’ve been to movies and plays, to small diners and fancy restaurants. I’ve taken you dancing and hiking, to the amusement park and the zoo.”
Sounding like a choked frog, Priss said, “All the things I never got to do growing up.”
“But there’s so much more, honey.” He moved wet tendrils of hair away from her face and over her shoulder. “I was trying to give you time to enjoy it all.”
“No!” Priss did not want him second-guessing his intent. “I don’t need any more time. Really I don’t.”
Both still very attentive, Matt and Chris snickered. Trace just smiled at her.
Closing her hand into a fist, she held the ring tight. “All I need, all I want, is you.”
“Glad to hear it, because I’m not an overly patient guy. Hell, I think I knew you were the one for me the day you showed up at Murray’s office.” He kissed the tip of her nose, her lips, her chin. “You were so damned outrageous, and so pushy, that you scared me half to death.”
“You felt me up,” Priss reminded him. “But that was a first for me, too.”
“I remember it well.” He treated her to a deeper kiss, and ended it with a groan. “Every day since then, I’ve wanted you more. Even when you worried me, or lied to me, or made me insane, I admired you for it.”
Priss nodded. “Okay.”
This time, Trace laughed out loud.
“Come on,” Matt said. “Stop being so easy, Priss. Let him do it right.”
Priss scowled at him, but Trace brought her face back around. “My job isn’t going to change, honey—and no, Matt, you don’t need to slink away.”
Matt, who’d already been in the process of leaving, now waffled. “If you’re sure?”
