by Robin Gianna
“My amazing intelligence?” The teasing look was back in his eyes, along with a sexual gleam that intensified the ache between her legs.
“Your hands. Those long surgeon’s fingers of yours. I just had a feeling they were very, very talented. Little did I know exactly how talented, with your plastics skills and magic skills and piano skills.”
“And other skills.” His lips curved and with a quick, deft movement, he flicked open her bra and slid it from her arms. “I’m looking forward to showing you some you haven’t seen yet.”
She wished her fingers were as magical as his as she struggled to get the last of the annoying buttons undone. Finally, finally, she was able to shove his shirt from his shoulders to see his muscled chest. She flattened her hands against it, loving the feel of it, thrilling in the quick, hard beat of his heart against her palms. “Oh, yeah? Like what?”
“Showing is always better than telling.” He shucked his pants and underwear until he stood fully naked, the moonlight illuminating the broadness of his shoulders, his lean hips, his strong thighs and the powerful arousal between them.
“Hmm. Is this what you wanted to show me?” Desire for him nearly buckled her knees and she decided to take matters into her own hands, so to speak. She reached for him as she kissed him, stroking him, teasing him, and she felt him respond with a deep shudder. A low groan sounded in his throat. His hands tightened on her back and his fingers dug into her bottom until it nearly hurt.
“Not exactly. Oh, Charlotte.” There was a ragged hitch to the way he said her name, and in the next breath he practically pushed her down onto the blanket, kissing her, covering her body with his heavy warmth that felt impossibly familiar, considering how short their time had been together the week before.
His fingers teased her nipples, glided slowly down, over her ribs, her belly, then lower. They slipped slowly, gently in and around the moist and slick juncture between her thighs; the sensation was most definitely magical. She couldn’t control the movement of her hips as they reached for his talented fingers, sought more of the erotic sensation he gave her.
She needed more. Needed all of him. “Now, please, Trent. I want you now.”
“If I could say no, not yet, I would. But, damn it, I can’t wait any longer to be inside of you.” Propped onto his elbows, he stared down at her. The intensity in his blue eyes held hers, mesmerized, as she opened for him, welcomed him. And, when he joined with her, it felt so wonderful, so familiar and yet so new all at the same time.
Rhythmically, they moved together, faster and deeper, until the earth seemed a part of them and the night stars seemed to burst into an explosion of light. And as she gave herself over to the pleasure of being in his arms, to the ecstasy of being at one with him, she cried out. He covered her mouth with his, swallowing the sounds of both of them falling.
For a long while, they lay there together as they caught their breath and their heart rates slowed. His face was buried in her neck. His weight felt wonderful pressing her into the soft earth, and she made a little sound of protest as he eventually rolled off her, keeping her hand entwined with his.
Still floating in other-worldly sensation, the sound of his laughter surprised her. She turned her head to look at him. “What’s so funny?”
“Looks like we managed to lose the blanket.” Despite the darkness, his eyes met hers, his teeth gleaming white as he grinned. “I guess we made love in the mud after all.”
She looked down and realized that they were, indeed, squished down into the mud; how they hadn’t noticed that, she couldn’t imagine. Actually, she could. Her mind slipped back to how wonderful it had been to be with him again, and just thinking about it made her feel like rolling her muddy body on top of him.
So she did, and he laughed again as she smeared a handful of mud on his chest and stomach then wriggled and squished against him. “I think I like it. Don’t people pay good money for mud baths?”
“They do. I’m pretty sure pigs like mud too.”
“Are you calling me a pig?”
He gave her a lazy, relaxed smile as he stroked more cool mud over and across her bottom, which felt so absurdly, deliciously sensual she couldn’t help wriggling against him a little more. “I’ve been around enough women in my life to never, ever say anything that stupid.”
The thought of all the women he’d had in his life shouldn’t have had the power to bring the pleasure of the moment down, but somehow it did. Which was silly, since she knew the score, didn’t she?
Something of her thoughts must have shown in her expression, because he wiped his muddy hand on the blanket then stroked her hair back from her face, all traces of amusement gone. “I have been to a lot of places and known a lot of people.” He tucked her hair behind the ear her plastic surgeon had created for her then traced it softly, tenderly, with his finger. “But you’re special. I’ve never met anyone who is such an incredible combination of sexiness, compassion and take-no-prisoners toughness. You amaze me. Truly.”
“Thank you.” Her heart swelled at his sweet words and she used her one not-muddy hand to cup his cheek as she leaned down to give him a soft kiss. “You amaze me too. Truly.”
“And I can tell you that, if I was going to fund a school or a hospital anywhere, I’d trust you to run it.” Through the moonlit darkness, his eyes stared into hers with a deep sincerity. “I’d trust you with anything.”
Damn. His words painfully clutched at her heart and twisted her stomach, making her feel slightly sick. He’d trust her with anything?
She could only hope and pray he never found out exactly how misplaced that trust really was.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE DELICIOUS PICNIC Trent had put together for them, complete with a bottle of wine he said he’d tucked in his bag for the right moment, was the most intimate and lovely meal Charlie had experienced in her life. It didn’t matter that they’d both been curled up on his skinny bed, towels wrapped around and beneath their muddy bodies, and that the wine “glasses” had been plastic cups.
After they’d eaten, the pleasure of the shower they’d shared—laughing as they’d washed the mud off their bodies, then no longer laughing as they enjoyed making love again within the erratic spray of water—wasn’t quite enough to make Charlie completely forget his words. To forget his misplaced trust in her. To remember her conviction that the end was worth the means.
She’d hardly slept after she’d crept into her house and fallen into her bed, tired, wired and worried. And still she ended up back at her desk as the sun rose. She stayed closeted in her office much of the day, contacting every potential donor, digging everywhere she could to possibly find some cash commitments in case the Gilchrist donation fell through.
Thankfully, the hospital and clinic had been busy too so she and Trent hadn’t seen one another except when he’d passed by her accidentally left-open door, giving her a sexy, knowing smile and a wink.
Deep in thought, a knock on the now closed door startled her. “Come in.” She readied herself to see a tall, hunky doctor with amused blue eyes, but relaxed when her dad appeared.
“Hi, honey. Have a second?”
“Of course.”
He settled himself in the only other chair in her tiny office. “I’ve decided to head on home tonight, instead of waiting until tomorrow. Your mom called to say a church group has sent a few members to study our school, and I’d like to be there to talk with them when they get there.”
“I understand, Dad. I’m planning to come see you and Mom soon for a few days anyway, as soon as...things are settled here.” No point in starting up another conversation about the hospital funding and potential problems there. She stood and rounded the desk, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “But you should wait until tomorrow morning. Why in the world would you drive at night on these roads if you don’t have to?”
>
“I’m stopping on the way. Do you remember Emmanuel and Marie? I’m going to visit them and check out their school, which is just across the border in the Ivory Coast. I’m staying there a day, then heading home.” He threaded his fingers together like he always did when he had something serious to say, and she braced herself. “Will you remember what I said about not giving everything to this place? About being open to the possibilities that may come along in your personal life? Think about giving Perry Cantwell a fair shot.”
“Does Charlotte have a personal life with Perry Cantwell?”
She swung around and stared at Trent leaning casually against the doorjamb, a smile on his face. But his eyes were anything but amused. They looked slightly hard and deadly serious.
A nervous laugh bubbled from her throat. The man was leaving in a matter of days. Surely he wasn’t jealous of some possible future relationship with his replacement? “I’ve never even met Perry Cantwell. But seems to me you’ve been anxious for him to get here so you could leave. Maybe I’m anxious for him to get here, too.”
It wasn’t nice to goad him like that after what they’d shared together last night and she knew it. But her emotions were all over the place when it came to Trent: needing him to stay until the Gilchrist rep came; wanting him to stay because she’d grown closer to him than was wise, closer than she should have allowed. This looming goodbye was going to be so much harder than the first one, as she’d worried all along it would be. And added to that was the fear that he’d somehow find out about her machinations, destroying the trust, the faith, he said he had in her.
Which shouldn’t really have mattered, since he’d be out of her life all too soon. But somehow it mattered anyway. A lot.
His posture against the doorjamb relaxed a little, as did the cool seriousness in his eyes. His lips curved as he shook his head, but that usual twinkle in his eyes was still missing. “Perry’s a good surgeon, but I hear he cheats at golf. Talks down to nurses. Sometimes dates men. Not a good fit for you, Charlotte.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re making all that up.” She stepped back to her desk and rested her rear end against it. “Dad’s right that I need to keep all possibilities open—except maybe not men who date men.”
Her dad chuckled, which reminded her he was there. “I’ve got to get going before it gets any later. Will you stay with Charlie tonight, Trent? I know we haven’t had any sign of burglars since before I got here, but I’d feel better if we gave it a few more nights.”
“Dad, I don’t—”
“Of course I will. You didn’t have to ask; I would’ve been there, anyway.”
The smoldering look he gave her both aroused and embarrassed her, and she hoped her father didn’t see it, along with the blush she could feel filling her cheeks. Though she had a feeling her dad wouldn’t exactly be surprised to know that she and Trent were a little more than just acquaintances and colleagues.
Her father stood. The small smile on his face told her he’d seen Trent’s look and was more than aware of the sizzle between them. She blushed all over again. “I need to grab my files before I go.” He looked at the various piles on her desk and frowned, lifting up one or two. “I thought they were right here. Did you move them?”
“I put them—” Oh no; he had his hands on the pile she’d shoved Trent’s release papers into, practically right in front of the man! Why, oh why hadn’t she buried them deep in a drawer? She hastily reached to grab them. “Don’t mess with that pile, Dad. Yours are—”
And because she was so nervous and moving too fast, and karma was probably getting back at her, the middle of the pile slid out and thunked on the floor, with some of the papers fluttering around Trent’s feet.
He reached down to gather the mess and she feared she just might hyperventilate. Snatching them up and acting even stranger than she was already would just raise suspicion, so she forced herself to quickly but calming retrieve and stack the files. Until her heart ground to a stop when she saw Trent had a paper in his hand and was reading it with a frown. She couldn’t think of anything else that would make him look so perplexed.
“When did this come?” His attention left the paper and focused on her. “This isn’t my original release from the GPC. It’s dated—” he looked down again “—three days ago. Why didn’t you give me this? And why didn’t they send it directly to me, like usual?”
She licked her dry lips. “Because Cantwell wasn’t here yet, I guess. He was all scheduled to come, which is why they sent your papers, but then something went wrong, I don’t know what.” Except she did know. Colleen hadn’t arranged for Cantwell’s travel because a certain desperate, deceiving hospital director had lied and told her Trent had agreed to stay until the Gilchrist rep came.
The end justified the means, she tried to remind herself as she stared at the confusion on Trent’s face. Except it was getting harder and harder to feel convinced of that.
“You still should have given them to me. Once the GPC releases me, my vacation is supposed to officially start. I need to find out when I’m expected in the Philippines now. That might have changed.”
Her heart in her throat, she forced a smile. “I’m sorry if I messed this up. I’ll call Colleen.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll call.”
His face relaxed into that charming smile of his, which somehow made the nervous twist in her stomach tighten even more painfully. The man really did like and trust her. Thank heavens the Gilchrist rep was due here any day, then this would all be over and he could be on his way.
And that thought made her stomach twist around and her chest ache in a whole different way.
“I’ve got my files here, Charlie. So I’m going to hit the road.”
She turned to her dad, having nearly forgotten—again—that he was in the room. How was that possible since he stood only three feet from her? His expression was serious, speculative. Probably he, too, was wondering what was going on with her and why she’d buried Trent’s papers deep within a pile.
“It’s been nice to meet you, sir,” Trent said, reaching to shake her dad’s hand. “And don’t worry. I’ll take care of your daughter until I leave here.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“I’m standing right here, remember?” Relieved to be back to a joking mood, Charlie waved her hands. “How many times do I have to tell you two? I don’t need to be taken care of.”
“We know.” Her dad smiled, but his eyes still held a peculiar expression as he looked at her. “We just like to look after you. Is that so bad?”
She looked at Trent, horrified at the thought that filled her head. That she couldn’t think of anything better than for him to stay here a full year, living with her and looking after her, the two of them looking after each other.
She could only imagine how appalled he’d be if he somehow read those thoughts in her face and she looked down at her desk as she changed the subject. “Can I help you get your things together, Dad? I’m about to head to the house anyway.”
“Already done. My car’s outside, ready to go.” He pulled her into his arms for a hug. “We’ll see you when you come visit next month.”
“Can’t wait to see both of you. Bye, Dad.”
With a smile and a squeeze of Trent’s hand, he disappeared, leaving the two of them alone in a room that now seemed no larger than a broom closet. She felt the heat of Trent’s gaze on her, felt the electric zing from the top of her head to her toes, and slowly turned to look at him.
His hand reached out and swung the door closed, and that gesture, along with the look in his eyes as they met hers, made her heart beat hard at the same time as her stomach plunged.
She was crazy about this man. There was no getting around it, and she wanted so much to enjoy every last day, every last hour, every last minute she had with him. Surely he wo
uldn’t find out about her lies? Maybe, even, he’d decide to stay longer on his own. It could happen, couldn’t it?
She stepped forward at the same moment he did, their arms coming around one another, their lips fusing in a burning kiss that held a promise of tonight, at least, being one she’d never forget.
His warm palms slid slowly over her back, down her hips and back up, her body vibrating at his touch. The kiss deepened, his fingers pressed more urgently into her flesh and, when he broke the kiss, a little sound of protest left her tingling lips.
“You sure your desk is a little too small?” His eyes gleamed hotly, but still held that touch of humor she loved.
“Yes. We already had files all over the floor once tonight.” The thought of why exactly that had happened took the pleasure of the moment down a notch, but she shook it off. She wasn’t going to let anything ruin what could be one of her last nights with him. Reluctantly, she untangled herself from the warmth of his arms. “I’m going to head home. Join me for dinner about seven?”
“I’ll be there.” He leaned in once more, touched his lips to hers and held them there in a sweet and intimate connection that pinched her heart. “Don’t be surprised if I’m even a little early.”
She watched him leave, gripping the edge of her desk to hold herself upright, refusing to think about how, for the first time since she’d moved here, she would feel very lonely when he was gone.
* * *
The lowering sun cast shadows through the trees as Charlie approached her house, surprised to see Patience in front of the porch with little Lucky jumping around her feet.
“What are you doing here, Patience? Where’s your dad?”
The little girl’s smile faded into guilt. “Daddy was in a long, long meeting with Miss Mariam and I got tired of waiting. I came to show you the new trick I taught Lucky.”
Oh, dear. John Adams was not going to be happy about this. “You know you’re not allowed to leave the school and come all the way down here by yourself.”
