by A. C. Arthur
“After I’ve caught the bad guy I want to see where things can go with us.” He raised a hand to stop her next words. “No, not like that. It’s more than just sex now, Camille. It’s much more.”
She was chewing a grape then and she dropped her fork, letting it clink against the glass bowl as she sat back in her chair. “I can’t believe it,” she said, narrowing her eyes to look at him.
“You can’t believe what?”
She chuckled softly. “Jade said it would hit you hard. That it would shock you right along with the rest of us.”
“What are you talking about? What’s hit me hard?”
“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”
She was staring at him, not that it made him uncomfortable, but he was getting tired of admitting this to everyone except the person whom he needed to hear it most. Lifting his bowl, he drank the milk then put it back down. Using the napkin she’d tossed at him, he wiped his mouth, then sat back in his chair similar to the way she was.
“Yes, I’m in love with her.”
In seconds Camille was up out of her chair coming around to wrap her arms around his neck. “Oh, Trent! That’s fantastic! I’m so happy for you two. Tia needs somebody to take care of her although she’d never admit it. And I’m so happy it’s you.” She pulled away from him then. “Because you need someone to keep you in line and Tia’s just the woman to do it.”
“Are you making moves on my woman now?” Adam asked half jokingly as he walked into the kitchen.
Camille ran to him hugging him a little tighter, a little more intimately than she’d hugged Trent. “Oh, Adam, he loves her! He told me he loves her.”
You would have thought Trent had proposed to Camille the way she bounced happily around that kitchen. Over her shoulder Adam looked at him. His brother’s arms had instinctively gone around Camille, holding her close as his lips curled into a smile.
This was what true love looked like. And for the first time in his life Trent envied it. He wanted what his brother had. He wanted a woman to love him this deeply, this unconditionally, that the happiness of his family would inspire her this way.
Last night they’d slept together, but they both must have been extremely tired because all they did was sleep. He’d held her and she’d cuddled against him but neither of them had awakened until he slipped away from her a little over half an hour ago to get ready for his meeting with Sam.
They would talk about this tonight. He had to get his feelings off his chest and he would finally know hers.
Chapter 15
Per Trent’s note, which he’d left on the bedside table this morning, Tia was dressed and waiting to be picked up. It was silly, she knew, but the butterflies were having a field day in the pit of her stomach.
Just as he’d said before, she and Trent had moved backward. They’d become lovers before they’d had the chance to date. So tonight would be their first official date. He’d told her to wear something dazzling and that he’d pick her up at seven. It was seven-o-four.
She heard the front door open and close and her heart pounded.
All day she’d thought about Trent, about their tryst in the gym and the night spent in each other’s arms. She’d also thought about their conversation about the last woman he’d been with before her.
If nothing else she gave Trent points for being brutally honest. A lesser man would have tried to convince her that all the other women in his past meant nothing and that there was only her. But Trent hadn’t gone that route. Instead he’d answered her questions and let her draw from them what she would. For a moment she thought she saw a shadow of worry in his face and that’s when she’d ended the conversation.
She had a life before that fateful night that she and Trent first slept together and she respected that he did, too. Asking him to her bed had been an informed decision. She knew his reputation, knew his kind and that was exactly what she wanted.
At the time, that was exactly what she wanted.
Now was a different story. She’d been only seconds away from confessing her love to him. Just moments away from laying her feelings at his feet, for him to do with what he would. Then she’d stopped, thought better of exposing herself that way and simply asked him to bed. Because that’s where she dealt with Trent best, in bed.
Cuddled in his arms in the late hours of the night, she realized that while dealing with him in bed had been easy for her, dealing with the way he filled her heart sure wasn’t going to be.
Since she’d just begun therapy sessions with Dr. Brokeman, the doctor wanted to see her as frequently as possible. So she’d gone again this morning, but this time instead of talking about her past she was more concerned with her future.
Tia was no stranger to therapy. For months after the accident she’d seen a shrink. She’d talked to him and tried to get a grip on her emotions. But after a while it just seemed useless. At that point she was determined to live in the bubble of grief she’d created for herself.
Now with new things in her life like the friendship offered by Camille and the Donovans and, of course, Trent, she had begun to think that maybe, just maybe, it was time to move on.
“He’s not like any other man I’ve ever met,” she told Jeanne as she sat in the soft leather chair across from where Jeanne sat on the couch.
“Really? How so?”
She’d sighed. “The other men, since Jake, I mean, were happy-go-lucky content with a romp in bed and maybe a movie or dinner. They knew that I was a model and thought this was their key into the fast lane. I always knew that I was a passing fad with them and that we’d eventually part.”
“And that was fine with you?”
“It worked for me.”
“And now? Does this new man work for you?”
Tia had thought about that question for a moment then exhaled. “I think he does. He’s not impressed with what I am, but seems overly concerned with who I am. If that makes sense.”
Jeanne nodded. “It does.”
“He has his own money, his own life. He knows what he wants and he goes after it. For a while I figured I was just another thing on his want list.”
“Did you want to be just another thing on his list?”
“I wanted the pain to go away. And he was there. He came into that room and he was bent on saving me, and whether it was from driving while intoxicated or from the endless pit of despair I was spiraling down didn’t matter. He was just there to play the hero role. And he did a damned good job.”
“Is he still your hero, Tia?”
She smiled and thought about the baby shower and the break-in at her apartment. “He is. But unlike ordinary heroes I’m not just thankful to him for saving me.” She tried to get the words out without sounding too silly. “He’s…it’s…it’s just more than I thought it would be. More than I thought I could feel again.”
“Do you think that’s good or bad?”
“I think it’s about damned time,” she said with a release of breath.
So with that said Tia was determined to let Trent know how she felt, to just get it over with. This first date was going to be the time of revelation. Ready or not Trent Donovan was about to get the shock of his life.
Stepping out of the car, Trent passed his keys to the valet and moved around to take Tia’s hand. Another valet had helped her out and Trent had been more than disturbed by the way the man’s gaze as well as his hands had lingered on her.
Luckily it only took one snarl from him to get him to back the hell up. She’d looked up at him and shaken her head.
“You are so bad. The man was just doing his job.”
“Then he can do it with someone else’s woman,” he’d said without hesitation. Tia was his and that was a fact.
He walked her through the doors of the Paris Las Vegas hotel. The hotel looked like a million bucks and so did he and Tia. She wore a shimmery silver dress with thick straps at her shoulders and a deep V neckline. From her waist down it flared out, moving sinu
ously over her long legs, tempting and teasing him with every step she took. He’d opted for a tuxedo, black, single breasted Ralph Lauren.
Her arm was entwined with his as they walked and he noticed the men ogling her and pulled her closer.
Tia knew exactly what Trent was doing and felt the need to do a little claiming of her own. She’d been more than pleased with her own outfit—the Vera Wang cocktail dress with its empire waist and jeweled bodice embroidery was a great choice. She’d been photographed in it once and loved the way it’s color added sparkle to her eyes.
Trent looked scrumptious. The three-button notch lapel was her favorite style and only added emphasis to his fantastic build. He’d left the vest at home, going for sophisticated defiance with just the tuxedo shirt and long crimson silk tie. The tie accented his smooth chocolate features giving him an air of danger and elegance all at the same time.
Women didn’t miss a thing and heads turned as they moved through the ornately decorated gold and cream lobby of the hotel.
They were seated in a booth dead center of the Eiffel Tower Restaurant. Trent had stood beside her as she slipped into the cranberry colored suede lounge before following on her other side. He sat so close to her their sides touched and she trembled.
Looking forward, she was treated to the spectacular view of the Strip. On the ride up Trent had tipped the elevator guy not to point out the Vegas landmarks. This was a part of the tourist treat to the city but since they both lived here it wasn’t necessary, and besides, she was too concerned with the erratic beating of her heart to listen to some tour guide.
Like she’d admitted at the house, she shouldn’t be this nervous. She had been sleeping with Trent for a month now. They’d done things in the bedroom that Tia had only read about. Yes, Trent Donovan was a force to be reckoned with in and out of the bedroom. So being nervous around him was simply ridiculous. Still, Tia recognized that submitting to his lovemaking expertise and confessing that she was in love with him were two entirely different things.
Tia and Trent shared the grand seafood platter and talked about their childhoods, career choices and anything other than their current personal feelings.
Trent was charming and good-looking, all the norm. But tonight he seemed just as jittery as she did, even dropping his fork on the floor twice. She couldn’t talk, however, because her shaking hands had spilled the first glass of red wine the waiter had brought her. Telling a man she loved him should not be this difficult.
They were waiting for a cup of coffee to be brought to them before leaving when Tia decided she needed to take a breather, pull herself together and get this over with. Either he was going to accept her feelings or he wasn’t, whatever, either way she needed to know.
“I’m going to go to the ladies’ room,” she announced. A few minutes alone and she could gather her strength.
“I thought you were going to break a record,” he said, smiling and scooting out of the booth to come around and help her up.
“What does that mean?”
“Women always go to the ladies’ room in restaurants. I think it’s some type of bathroom fetish you have.” He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips as he laughed.
“That is not even funny. Stereotyping us that way,” she feigned indignance. “We can’t help if we need to freshen up or heaven forbid actually use the facilities.”
“Hey,” he said, catching her arm as she tried to brush by him. “You don’t need to freshen up. You’re beautiful just the way you are.”
And now she couldn’t even fake annoyance. Her smile was inevitable, the warmth radiating up her arm from where he touched her too potent to ignore. Trent Donovan was one smooth character.
Passing through the door to the ladies’ room, Tia quickly found an empty stall. The bathroom was quiet and she finished quickly moving to the sink to wash her hands and refresh her lip gloss. She was just smacking her lips together and dropping the tube into her small purse when another stall door opened.
A woman stepped out, her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. Tia was only slightly startled since she’d thought she was in there alone. Still, she smiled through the mirror to the other woman and picked up her purse, turning to leave.
She paused at the door when the woman spoke.
“Tia St. Claire.”
Turning, Tia looked at the woman more closely, trying to see if she knew her. She was a lighter complexion than Tia’s own honey tone, her eyes unusually dark. She wore a pantsuit, not designer but not cheesy, either.
“Do I know you?” Tia finally asked when recollection was not coming back to her.
“No. But I’ve made it my business to get to know you.”
Tia arched a brow. “Really? And why is that?”
The woman had approached her and was now standing about a foot away. “That’s what I do when I have a score to settle.”
Something about the way the woman looked at her or the predatory way in which she’d approached had Tia’s guard up. Her words only confirmed that Tia needed to be prepared for the woman’s next words.
Was this her stalker? she thought momentarily.
“And you have a score to settle with me I take it?” The bravado wasn’t faked. Tia was a little nervous—she hadn’t fought in a ladies’ room since high school, but she was no stranger to defending herself, especially from jealous females.
“Not with you personally but since you’ve plopped yourself right in the middle, I’ll have to make an example of you.”
“You slashed my tires and broke in to my apartment,” Tia accused.
“And now I’m going to scar that pretty face so he’ll know that I mean business,” the woman said, then extended her hand, landing a slap against Tia’s cheek.
Tia’s head snapped back with the force, her teeth clattering as her right ear began to ring. She supposed the question-and-answer session was now over.
In seconds Tia was on her, grabbing the woman’s ponytail with one hand and connecting her fist with her jaw with the other. The woman began swinging wildly, screaming as she did. It took some effort for Tia to keep her face from meeting with the woman’s vicious nails, but when her hand slapped free of the woman’s hair Tia had no other choice but to knock her to the floor.
On top of the woman now, Tia pulled her hair again, using it to slam her head against the floor. The woman’s feet kicked up, pounding into Tia’s back. Then she got an arm free and a punch slammed into Tia’s left cheek, knocking her off balance.
As Tia fell to the floor the woman pushed herself upward, grabbing Tia by the neck. “You’re his bitch! He took my lover away from me and I’m going to do the same to him!”
The woman was dragging Tia on the floor and Tia knew her intent was to ram her face into the wall. So she grabbed the woman’s legs, threw her off balance and jumped up off the floor when the woman fell back against the sink. Standing now, Tia slammed a fist into the woman’s stomach and was about to repeat the action on her face when she heard the door opening.
As Tia’s attention was momentarily taken with the person entering the ladies’ room, the stalker pulled out of her grasp. But Tia wasn’t about to let her go. She reached for her, grabbing the collar of the woman’s jacket. She wiggled free, aiming for the door that was now being held wide-open by the screaming patron.
The woman was fast, and Tia’s four-inch heels and the swirling material of her dress slowed her down so that she was left holding only the woman’s jacket. Still determined to catch her, Tia barreled out of the bathroom only to have strong hands grab her around the waist, pulling her back quickly.
Pandemonium had broken out as there were more screams and people running in her direction. Tia was trying to break free of the stranger’s hold when she was lifted off the floor only to be plopped down directly in front of Trent.
“What the hell happened?” he asked.
“It was her! The stalker!” Tia screamed.
From behind she heard a deep male v
oice. “It’s Larice, Trent. I’m going after her.”
Tia whirled around toward the voice and saw the back of a tall guy running through the crowd. He was the one who had grabbed her and he knew Trent.
Turning back to her date for the evening with a litany of questions on her tongue, she was silenced by his grave look. It mirrored the one he’d had in her apartment that day after the break-in.
“What’s going on, Trent?” she asked in a shaky voice. “Who was that man? And who is Larice?”
In minutes they were at the ground floor of the hotel waiting less than patiently for Adam to arrive. As if he’d read his brother’s mind his car skidded to a halt at the front entrance that was now full of police cars and reporters. Only because he was who he was could Trent keep Tia away from the reporters and the cops’ questions. Now he wanted her to get safely home so that he could do his job.
“Let’s go,” Adam said moving to Tia’s side.
Trent had one of her arms and Adam now had the other, moving her quickly toward the car.
Up until this point Tia had been silent, her questions about who Sam and Larice were died quickly when she saw all the police and reporters milling around. But Trent knew that would only last for so long.
She stopped at the passenger door and turned to him. “I’m going back to the house because I know that whatever is going on is serious. But you better not even think about not coming back to explain this all to me. If you do, so help me, I’ll be like your worst enemy hunting you down for answers.”
Never had Trent heard her speak this way. His already tense body tightened, his fingers clenching at his sides.
“Go home. I’ll be there once I’ve finished.”
She stared at him another second, then got into the car. Adam slammed the car door shut.
