 
RUSH of INNOCENCE

By LR Potter

Copyright 2013 LR Potter

Smashwords Edition

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 return to Smashwords.com and purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Copyediting and Cover Art by:

Carolyn Pinard

Photos used with permission by iStock Photography

Prologue

The man stood facing a bank of windows, staring out from his office, which overlooked the city he'd loved since childhood. But today, Savannah didn't offer him any comfort... or any answers. He stood in his expensive suit with his hands shoved down deep into his pants pockets. With half an ear, he listened to those seated behind him as they discussed ways to resolve his specific problem.

Hate and white-hot rage boiled through his blood to settle down in his belly. One of the men responsible for the horrific end of the person he'd loved was still living and enjoying his life. More than his death, however, he wanted him destroyed.

In an eerie, quite tone, he asked, "What does he love?"

The three men gathered, stopped mid-conversation.

Clearing his throat, the youngest man seated asked, "Love?"

"Yes. What's the most important thing in his life?"

A second man replied, "His daughter... he loves his daughter; is very protective of her."

Without turning from the window, the man gave a knowing nod of his head and pursed his lips as his mind clicked through the possibilities. "It would need to be seamless. He can't suspect anything. I want it to be a surprise, just as I was surprised. How do we get to her?"

The most confident of the three seated men asked, "What will you do with her once you get her?"

Silence followed the question for a long while. The man at the window finally turned and faced the others.

With an icy stare and clipped tones, he declared, "Experience has taught me – you crush the heart of a man, and he dies a long, painful death."

Chapter 1

Trinity Grace studied the tear in the aged, painted canvas stretched out before her through a Carl Zeiss magnifying lens. She'd already determined the painting was at least one hundred and fifty years old by the paint pigment absorbed into the ancient fabric. The client had found the painting tucked away in their parents' attic and thought it might be worth saving. Of course, from her viewpoint as an art restorer, all art was worth saving.

Her concentration was broken when her boss, Gavin Lassiter, strode into the room. Gavin was a throwback artist from a different generation. While he was very polished, in his urbane suits and expensive shoes, he still wore his dark hair tied back in a ponytail.

He leaned over her shoulder to examine the damage. "What's the verdict?" he asked.

"The painting is repairable, but it'll take work, as the tear is old and the edges corroded."

"How much time will be involved in the restoration?" His concern being how much money the repair would bring into the gallery.

She pondered his question for a long moment. "At least a month."

Gavin Lassiter smiled. "Good, good." He glanced at the thin, gold watch on his wrist. "I need to pull you away for an initial client meeting in about fifteen minutes. I can't emphasize enough how important this meeting is to us. He's a very wealthy man who could potentially be a valuable long-term customer. Your reputation has preceded you; he asked for you specifically."

"How nice," she responded, smiling at the acknowledgment.

"So, I'll meet you in the conference room?"

She nodded as she turned back to the painting of muted gold and green autumn leaves.

Before she realized it, her fifteen minutes were gone and she was forced to hurry from her office to the conference room. She paused outside the door to calm her frazzled senses and ran a hand down her royal blue silk shift dress, belted with a thin gold belt. She patted a hand against her hair, ensuring her smooth, waist-long, dark strands were all still neatly fastened at her nape. With a soft knock, she opened the conference room's door and entered.

She gave a small smile of apology to Gavin, who sat facing her.

Gavin smiled and rose to his feet. "Ahh, here she is now."

The man sitting with his back to the door stood and turned to face her. Due to his height, she was forced to look up. His dark short-cropped hair framed his angular face, strong jaw, and aristocratic nose. He was younger than she'd thought, somewhere around thirty. She saw something she couldn't define flit across his features before he smiled politely down at her. His Armani suit spoke of money and his gold Rolex confirmed it.

She swallowed as heat flooded her face. Her stomach became a mass of tangled nerves. The man before her was the most amazingly beautiful man she'd ever seen. In college, she'd learned about aesthetics, which is the branch of philosophy involving varying outlooks of art theory, and provides the ruling criteria for making artistic judgment. One main issue aesthetics attempts to resolve is how to define beauty. As she gazed into the stranger's face, she now knew why people might struggle. His was indescribable; a timeless classic. A blush tinted her cheeks when she realized he had his hand extended to her and she'd been too stunned to notice. She smiled and placed her hand within his. A tingle zipped up her arm at the contact. Her eyes snapped to his to see if he'd felt it also. She stared, mesmerized, as his lips curled into a grin, which caused the skin next to his hazel eyes to crinkle.

Gavin's voice interrupted her jumbled thoughts. "Rush Drayton, I'd like you to meet the gallery's restoration artist, Trinity Grace."

"Good morning, Mr. Drayton," she murmured.

"Ms. Grace. It's a pleasure," he responded. "You're younger than I'd expected," he murmured, almost to himself.

She blushed further. "As are you."

"Touché', Ms. Grace," he smiled.

Trinity moved around the table to take a seat next to Gavin. She slid a hand underneath her dress as she sat and rolled her chair up to the table.

"Now that we're all gathered, tell us what we can do for you," Gavin said to Rush Drayton.

With a Mona Lisa smile curving his sensual lips, his gaze remained on Trinity. Ignoring Gavin's question, he asked her instead, "How long have you worked at the gallery?"

She clutched her hands together under the table to hide her display of nervousness. "About eight months."

"So, that makes you, what? Twenty-two? Twenty-three?"

She blinked at his question. "Twenty-two."

He stared at her another moment before shifting his eyes to Gavin. "I like to collect beautiful things and have acquired several pieces recently, which need restoration in one form or another."

"Well, you've come to the right place. Did you bring the pieces with you?" Gavin asked.

"I've brought a single painting today. We'll start with that. If our business is... successful, then we can discuss the other pieces. The painting is with my driver. If you're ready to review it, I'll have him bring it in. Just tell me which entrance to have it brought through."

"He can bring it into the rear dock. I'll have Trinity meet him there and then we'll meet them in her office."

Rush Drayton reached into his suit pocket and withdrew his cellphone. Trinity found her eyes drawn to the nimble movements of his long fingers as he dialed his driver. Her eyes moved up to his full lips as he spoke in soft, cultured tones into the phone. She swallowed and her mouth became so dry she was forced to lick her lips. She saw his lips twitch and she lifted startled eyes to his, embarrassed at having been caught staring at the beautiful man once again. She glanced down quickly as deep color rushed up her neck and into her face.

"Radcliff is on his way to the back bay now," Rush Drayton said.

"Excellent! Trinity, go meet the driver and I'll walk Mr. Drayton down to your office, okay?" Gavin suggested.

With a small nod, she rose to her feet with innate fluidity and hurried from the room, glad to be away from the intensity which seemed to encompass the air surrounding Rush Drayton. She reached the bay at the same time a dark SUV pulled into it. A big, burly man emerged from the interior of the car – Radcliff, she presumed. He walked around to the back of the SUV and removed a medium-sized crate. She smiled and motioned for him to follow her. She paused once more outside her office door and drew in a deep breath. She pasted a smile on her lips and led Radcliff into her workspace.

When she entered, Rush Drayton and Gavin were standing in front of the stretched canvas she'd been working on prior to the meeting. Gavin was obviously explaining to him the process of repairing antique pieces of art.

They both turned as she entered. Gavin smiled, while Rush Drayton's gaze was more speculative.

Gavin turned his attention to the driver and directed him to a different worktable. Once the crate was lying on its side, Radcliff flipped the top down and carefully slid a painting encased in an intricately-carved gold wooden frame. Trinity moved to the painting and tilted her head as she took in the simple beauty of the ballerina pirouetting in front of a free-standing, oval mirror. The girl standing in front of the mirror appeared to be around ten years old; however, her reflection in the mirror was of a much older girl, maybe eighteen. The painting gave a touching depiction of every young girl's desire to be older beyond her years.

She moved closer to the painting, and with a light, practiced touch ran her fingers lovingly over the raised buckles in the paint.

In quiet, almost reverent tones, she asked without looking up from the painting, "Was it left in direct sunlight or intense heat for a long period of time?"

"It was rescued from a barn, which was the only remaining structure on an old plantation," Rush answered.

Softly, Trinity murmured, "It's very beautiful."

"Yes, it is," Rush agreed. "Can it be repaired?"

With a jerk of her head, she responded in a quick fashion, just in case Rush Drayton was thinking of destroying the magnificent piece of work, "Of course it can be repaired. It'll take a little time, but I can save her," she declared.

Rush Drayton smiled at her exuberance. "Excellent! Then I'll leave my little lady in your capable hands." Turning to Gavin, he said, "You have my contact information. Call me when it's done." He glanced at his watch, "I need to go, I have another appointment."

Gavin clasped his hands together. "Of course. Follow me and I'll show you out."

Rush Drayton turned to Trinity. "It's been a pleasure, Ms. Grace."

"Mr. Drayton," she said with a nod of her head.

She blew out a deep breath when he left the confines of her small workspace. The faint smell of his musky aftershave lingered long after he had departed.

* *

The distinguished gentleman with graying hair studied the bowed head of the young woman seated across from him. Her long, dark hair was clipped back neatly at the nape of her neck. Her sleeveless white dress was formfitting and immaculate. The darkness of her hair, contrasting with the paleness of her skin, along with the natural red-tint of her lips, always made him think of the fabled Snow White. Her normally serene expression was now marred with lines of irritation. Even with her current fit of pique, she was lovely. She'd inherited the best of both he and her mother. He lifted his fork and slowly chewed the delicate fish before washing it down with the dry white wine in his glass. Drawing a napkin across his lips, he sighed in exasperation.

In his cultured, proper voice, he scolded, "Trinity, sulking is very unattractive. Now eat your fish. Trout Almondine is your favorite. You don't want to hurt Ms. Gibbon's feelings, do you?"

"I'm not sulking," the dark-haired girl muttered in indignation. It irritated her that he'd once again reduced her feelings to that of a child.

From under her lashes, she regarded her father with quiet intensity. In her periphery, she took in the massive dining table that could easily accommodate up to a dozen people in comfort, but was usually only occupied by the two of them. The formalness of the room, complete with white table linens and lit candles, made the room seem cold and sterile. Even the massive fireplace, with its flickering flames, couldn't add warmth to the frigid environment.

"Trinity, you have to understand, your safety is of utmost importance to me," he said.

"I understand that, Father. But I'm nearly twenty-three years old. I don't understand why I can't go to Vail with my friends. It's just a group of girls. We'll be staying at a very nice condo that Sundra's parents rented. I'll be perfectly safe. Besides, I've already purchased my plane ticket and arranged for the time off with Gavin."

Judge Arthur Grace regarded his daughter for a long moment. "No, I'm sorry, but I just don't feel comfortable with that. If you want to go to Vail, just wait until after my current case is completed and I'll go with you. We'll have your ticket changed to a later date," he argued.

"It's not the same." She cringed at how childlike that actually sounded coming out of her mouth.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, but that's the only compromise I can offer," he said.

"That's not a compromise, that's you getting your way," she said through clenched teeth.

"Well, look at it how you will. But the answer is still no."

She brought the napkin up to her lips and set it down beside her plate. "May I be excused?" she asked with stilted politeness, not able to overcome years of ingrained civility.

With a heavy sigh, he assented, "Yes, you may."

Trinity rose abruptly, and in doing so, jarred the table, causing her water goblet to topple over.

"Trinity Allura Grace!" Arthur jerked to his feet in the same abrupt fashion.

The tension between them was immediately overshadowed by the sudden explosion of the stained-glass window. Trinity watched in horrified fascination as multicolored glass shards flew through the air like rain that's been captured by a strong gust of wind. Struggling to understand the series of events transpiring around her, she stood paralyzed as her father seemed to be thrown by a great force away from the window before slumping to the floor in a heap.

Trinity opened her mouth to scream when suddenly the room was pitched into darkness and a strong body was knocking her to the ground with enough force to rattle her teeth. The oxygen was driven from her lungs in a huge gust from the force of the impact and the weight of the person above her. Blood filled her mouth from biting down on her tongue. Face-down and unable to see her attacker, she began to struggle and tried to wiggle out from under the massive weight. She opened her mouth once more to scream when a hand was clamped over it. Panic overwhelmed her as she struggled to breathe.

"Trinity, it's me. Are you hurt?" At the infinitesimal shake of her head, Alex Masters, her father's chauffer and bodyguard, whispered in urgent tones in her ear. "Stay down and be quiet. Do you understand?" With her heart pounding, and whimpering softly, she nodded.

From the light of the fireplace, Trinity watched through horror-filled eyes as Alex made his way on hands and knees to her father. She held her breath as she waited to see if he was alive. She cringed when she thought of her earlier pique; it seemed so unimportant now. She closed her eyes and prayed God would give her an opportunity to apologize and tell him she loved him.

When she opened her eyes, she watched as Alex leaned over her father and pressed two fingers against the artery in his neck. He glanced back and gave a small nod. He was alive! She exhaled sharply. Alex pulled a cellphone from his pocket and hit a known contact on its face.

With quick and efficient command, he said into the phone, "Shane, I need you down here now! There's a situation with the principle. I need the perimeter searched ASAP. There are weapons involved. Once cleared, I need both SUVs brought around. I need to get the Judge to the hospital, also ASAP. Understood? Good. Both the principle and sub-principle are with me in the dining room. Okay, I'll wait to hear from you."

Gesturing with his hand, Alex motioned Trinity to join him and her father. Ignoring the shards of glass cutting into her knees and palms, she made her way as Alex had done.

When she reached him, he leaned and whispered into her ear, "I need to ensure there's no one in the house. I want you to stay with your father. Can you do that?"

With her eyes wild, she immediately began to shake her head. She lifted trembling hands to his bicep. Her voice shook as she begged, "Please don't leave us. Please!"

Alex placed a hand against her face to get her to concentrate on his eyes. "Trinity, I need to make sure you're safe here. I'll be right back. I promise. Okay?"

With everything in her screaming 'no', she slowly nodded as she swallowed the huge lump forming in her throat. Alex gave her a reassuring smile and patted her cheek softly. Slipping to his feet, he kept his body bent at the waist as he withdrew his weapon and crept away, the only sounds being the wind whipping through the broken window, the flickering flames of the fireplace, and the soft crunch of glass as he stepped away. Trinity moved to her father and touched his face with her fingertips. Being this close, she could now see the gouged surface on his head where the bullet had slid uncomfortably close to ending his life. In the flickering light, she was surprised to see a second wound. Blood had soaked through the sleeve of his white dress shirt. Inanely, the thought crossed her mind that he was definitely going to hate having his expensive tailored-made shirt ruined. She leaned back to snag the white linen napkin her father had used earlier and pressed it with gentle fingers against his wound.

She wondered why Alex hadn't called for an ambulance. Surely it would be better for her father to receive immediate medical treatment. Leaning down, and ignoring the tears streaming down her face, she pressed her lips against his face. Please, don't die, she begged silently, I can't lose another parent this way.

It seemed to take forever for Alex to return to her, when in all actuality it probably was only a matter of minutes. He crouched behind her and surveyed the room protectively.

She jerked her head up when the front door was shoved open. Alex laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It's only Shane," he said calmly. Alex stepped away from her and met Shane in the middle of the room. He bent his head as Shane spoke quietly to him. Trinity watched as Alex nodded, then turned back to her.

"The perpetrator or perpetrators have gone. We need to get your father to the hospital. We will take both SUVs in case we need a diversion. We'll place you and your father in the backseat of one, okay?"

"Wouldn't an ambulance make more sense?" she asked as fear flooded her senses.

"No, we don't know what we're dealing with yet. This is the best way. Are you ready to move?" he asked in his same calm manner.

"Can I grab my purse? It's in the study."

"Be quick," Alex advised.

Trinity darted into the study and grabbed the purse and coat she'd thrown over the chair when she'd entered the house earlier that day. When she returned, Alex had picked her father up, seemingly with little effort. The bunch of his shoulder muscles underneath his suit jacket the only sign of the strain of his burden. She followed him as they made their way quickly to the set of black SUVs now parked in the garage. She slipped into the backseat first and waited while Alex laid her father onto the seat. She shifted him to lay his head onto her lap.

Alex spoke to Shane briefly before crawling into the driver's seat of the SUV. Glancing at her in the rearview mirror, he said, "Be sure to buckle up." Wordlessly, she complied. "You ready?" he asked softly. She nodded.

Alex depressed the garage opener and waited until Shane pulled out before following. Once they arrived at the end of the drive, Shane turned right and Alex pulled left. From her position in the backseat, she could see the tiny green light attached to the Bluetooth in Alex's ear. She could hear the cadence of his voice, but not his words. She looked down at her father and gently brushed his hair into place. She leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead when she heard Alex shout, "Trinity, hold on!"

His words barely registered before the bright lights of a vehicle flooded the interior of the SUV seconds before slamming into it broadside, on the side across from her. Trinity screamed at the impact, and when her father's body was thrown against her, she reached around his chest and held him as tight as she could. The SUV seemed to travel sideways for miles before crashing into a line of parked cars. Trinity felt the buckle of the door as it strained against its reinforced frame.

She watched in horrified fascination as the dark-colored SUV that had hit them backed up slowly. She heard the grinding of gears and the squealing of the tires as the vehicle struggled to gain purchase on the asphalt. Seconds before the vehicle hit them again, Alex punched the gas. The crunch of metal against metal and the shattering of glass filled the air as the attacking SUV crashed into the line of cars they'd just pulled away from.

Trinity struggled to right her father's unconscious body as Alex sped through the darkened streets while talking in quick, quiet tones into his Bluetooth. Fear made her hands tremble, and a deep cold seeped into every fiber of her body. Her teeth began to chatter as she hugged her father tightly against her body.

"Trinity, you all right back there?"

When she opened her mouth to answer, a sob flew from her lips instead.

"We'll be at the hospital soon," he said soothingly. She could only nod as tears flooded her eyes and spilled over onto her cheeks.

One of the SUV's tires had been flattened during the assault, causing the vehicle to wobble and lurch. Alex turned onto a side lane, extinguished the lights, and parked. He turned his head left and right, surveying the surroundings before slipping over the seat into the back. Squatting on the back floorboard, he reached for her father and ran experienced hands over his body, searching for further injuries. Apparently satisfied, he turned his attention to her. "How are you holding up?"

"What's happening? Who's after us?" she whimpered.

"I don't know. Shane is on his way. We just need to sit tight. Were you hurt?"

Swallowing, she merely shook her head.

The bright lights of the hospital's emergency room entrance hurt her eyes. As before, Alex carried her father's body while Shane had a hand on her elbow, guiding her into the hospital. Her mind struggled to absorb the gravity of the situation, but just couldn't – so she shut down. When Shane led her to a chair, she sat without comment and stared blankly straight ahead. Without looking at them, she was aware of Alex in deep discussion with Shane before Shane walked off to where the hospital staff had taken her father.

Alex sat down across from her. She took in the man who'd been so tightly ensconced in her life for the past six months. She'd never really given him much thought before. But now that she owed hers and her father's lives to him, she couldn't take her eyes off him. He had to be in his mid-thirties, with military-cut blonde hair and green eyes. It took her a minute to notice the blood streaming down his face. "You're hurt," she whispered.

He lifted a hand to his head and wiped negligently against it. "I'm fine."

"Thanks, Alex," she murmured.

"You're welcome," he replied, eyeing her thoughtfully. "We need to discuss what's going to happen once your father is placed in a room. It'll be better for everyone if you stay as well. Is that okay with you?"

"For now," she answered. She shivered and ran her hands up and down her arms to warm herself. She thought longingly of the coat she'd left in the wrecked SUV. Noticing her discomfort, Alex rose and draped his suit jacket over her shoulders.

"Thanks," she murmured.

"Security is going to be tightened, Trinity. You have to realize that," Alex said, eyeing her thoughtfully.

"Security... for my father, right?"

With slow movements, he nodded his head.

"Who'd want to hurt us?" she whispered.

Exhaling deeply and once again swiping at the blood at his temple, he asked softly, "Has your father mentioned the death threats he's received?"

"Death threats? No, he didn't. Who'd want to kill my father?" she rasped.

"Your father has a powerful job, which makes him a target."

Trinity's eyes darted left and right as she tried to understand. Slowly, it began to become clearer to her. "Is that why he has you?"

He scrunched his eyebrows at the illogical question. "Yes."

"He told me all Judges were now required to have bodyguards. I never questioned it," she ended lamely.

"He probably didn't want you to worry."

Lifting stormy black eyes to meet his calm, sea-foam green ones, she exclaimed, "I'm not a child. He should have told me the truth."

Without comment, Alex leaned his head back against the wall. Anyone looking at him would think he was a man calmly waiting for someone in the hospital. But Trinity knew from the slow shift of eyes back and forth, that he would spring into action at any sign of danger. She snuggled down into the folds of his jacket and closed her eyes, scared for her father and furious at him all at the same time.

"Miss Grace?" A deep voice questioned.

Opening her eyes, she sat a little straighter at the sight of a doctor. "Yes?" she answered.

"I'm Dr. Kane," he said with an outstretched hand.

Trinity reached out her own hand to shake his. He frowned as he looked down. She followed his line of sight to her hand. There were cuts and gashes from her crawl through the shards of glass.

"Oh my," he murmured. "You'll need to get that looked at." Raising his eyes back up to hers, he said, "I wanted to let you know your father has been taken up to surgery. All initial reports look good. If you'd like, you can go to the waiting room up on the fourth floor. I'll come find you once he's out of surgery. He'll need to stay, of course, so I've notified the front desk to arrange a room for him."

"Thanks, Doctor," she murmured.

When the doctor walked away, Alex stood and waited for her to rise. Together, they made their way to the fourth floor.

The wait seemed to last forever, but in reality was only a matter of a couple of hours. She paced and sipped bad coffee until Dr. Kane reappeared as promised.

He walked to her quickly and smiled down at her. "Your father came through surgery with flying colors. We expect him to make a full recovery. It appears the bullet went through the soft tissue of his shoulder and missed all vital arteries. The bullet that grazed his head, while it probably hurt and knocked him unconscious, wasn't life-threatening."

"When can I see him?" she asked on a sigh of relief.

"He's in recovery right now. He's been assigned to Room 407 if you'd like to wait there. He should be rolled down there in about an hour. Anything else?" the doctor asked kindly.

"No. Thank you for everything," she said somberly.

Once he left, she and Alex made their way to Room 407. Alex entered the room first and did a quick search before waving her in. She stood for a moment in the stark white room and heaved a tired sigh. It'd been a long night.

She pointed to the bathroom and Alex gave a slight nod of his head. Closing the door quietly behind her, she slowly walked to the sink and turned on the faucet and let the water run. Bracing her hands against the sink, she leaned forward and studied herself in the mirror. Her long, dark hair swayed against her waist. Surprisingly, it was still clasped neatly at her neck. Her father would be pleased, she thought. There were dark smudges under her brown eyes where her mascara had ran; he'd not be pleased about that. Her sleeveless, white form-fitted dress was marred with blood, dirt, and tiny shards of embedded glass. Her father's demand of perfection would definitely not be pleased with her dishevelment.

She glanced down at her hands, and seeing the cuts, she ran them under the water. She grimaced at the sting. Why hadn't her father told her about the threats? Ever since her mother's death when she was ten, he'd been so overprotective, but she'd taken it. She understood his need to protect her and keep her close, but this was too much. She was no longer a child, she was an adult. Tears filled her eyes in direct contradiction to her words. Stuffing her emotions back down deep within, she grabbed a napkin from the dispenser and scrubbed the makeup from her pale face.

* *

Sun was streaming through the windows when she woke the next morning. However, that wasn't what woke her – it was the harsh whispers being exchanged between her father and Alex Masters.

"... I had no choice. She needed to be told. She's an adult, Arthur, no matter how much you wish she was still your little girl," Alex said.

"That wasn't your decision to make," her father declared.

"The better she understands the seriousness of the situation, the better it will be for all of us."

"If you'd been doing your job, this wouldn't have happened," her father admonished.

Silence met her father's words and she cringed at his cruelty.

Unable to restrain herself, she said softly, "I think a simple thank-you will do, Father. After all, the man did save your life, not once, but twice." Both heads turned in her direction. "Alex, do me a favor and give me a minute alone with my father, will you?"

At her father's nod, Alex stepped through the door. Trinity had no doubt he was standing right on the other side, vigilant. Rising and stretching her weary muscles, she rose and went to sit on the edge of her father's hospital bed. Bandages now covering both is head and arm did nothing to distract her from her memories of the night before.

"How are you feeling, Dad?"

"I'm fine. I don't know why I can't go home."

"I'm sure you'll be home soon enough. Alex is right, though, you should have told me you were in danger," she scolded.

"I didn't want you to worry."

"Too late. I always worry," she said flippantly, trying to lighten the mood.

"Protecting you is my job. I don't want to give it up," her father said.

"I know. But I'd rather know the truth. When I think about..." she paused as tears clouded her eyes.

Her father raised her hands to his lips and grimaced when he saw the scrapes on her hands. "Trinity Allura Grace! What have you done?"

"It's nothing."

"Oh, baby. I'm sorry! It had to have been so horrifying for you. I never wanted you to have to go through something like that again," he exclaimed.

Leaning forward, she placed a kiss to his head. "Well, it all worked out," she murmured, "but you need to apologize to Alex. He was wonderful last night. We'd never have made it without him."

"I will, I will," her father promised.

"Good."

"I need you to do something for me," he said.

"Okay."

"I need you to go to into my study and pull out my case files for the judge who's taking over my cases. Okay, darling?" he asked.

"Of course. Whatever you need."

"Good girl. I gave the list to Alex. My keys are in my pants pocket. The files are in the top drawer on the left side of the desk," he instructed. "A courier will be by tomorrow to pick them up. I've instructed Alex to take you home. There's no reason for you hang out around here."

"I'd really rather stay," she protested.

"I appreciate that, darling. But, you need to get cleaned up, you're a mess." She cringed at the recriminations. "Plus, I need a small case packed, and you know what I like. Also, I need to make sure the windows are replaced and the dining room is cleaned up. Can you take care of that?"

"Yes, Father."

"Good girl," he said with a smile. "Now, get Alex back in here and get ready to go," he said dismissively.

As she and Alex drove silently through the streets of downtown Savannah, Georgia, she tried to wrap her mind around the fact that someone had deliberately shot her father. While he was a Judge, she couldn't think of any reason why anyone would want to kill him. He could be a little abrupt and aggressive at times, but to want him dead? With a headache brewing behind her eyes at the lack of sleep, and the stress of the situation, she absentmindedly reached back and released her hairclip. She closed her eyes as she massaged the back of her scalp.

"Tired?" Alex asked quietly.

"Not as tired as you, I'm sure," she murmured without opening her eyes.

"All part of the job," he replied.

"What happens now?" she asked as she leaned her head back against the grey leather of the SUV.

"Security will be tightened," he stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

"What about my job? Will I be able to go to work?" she asked.

"You can. But you'll need to have someone with you."

"For how long?" she asked.

"For as long as it takes."

"For as long as it takes for what?" she asked, opening her eyes to stare at his profile.

He flicked a quick look in her direction. "To ensure yours and the Judge's safety."

Trinity thought of how tightly restricted her father already kept her, and shuddered to think of even more constraint. "Do you think my father is overacting with my need for security as well? The threat is against him, not me. Right?"

Alex remained silent for so long, she thought he wasn't going to answer. "You could be used against him. You are a weak link where he is concerned," he said without inflection.

She bristled against the words weak link. For all of her life, her father had treated her as if she were indeed weak. And even though she'd graduated Suma Cum Laude from college, he acted as if she didn't possess an ounce of common sense. Not for the first time, she wished her mother had lived. Her slaying at the hands of their kidnappers had been the catalyst of her father's irrational over-protectiveness – or maybe rational over-protectiveness, in view of recent events.

Trinity and Alex were met in the garage by Ringo Barnes, another bodyguard from Alex's agency, Savannah Security, Inc.

Alex shook hands with Ringo. "Everything okay?"

Ringo nodded, glanced at Trinity, and then turned back to the entrance of the house. Trinity trailed behind them, more nervous than she expected. Cautiously, she split away from them when they headed into the kitchen. She stepped slowly into the dining room and was surprised to see it looking as if nothing had happened. The only difference being the window now housed a standard window glass and not the beautiful stained-glass work. It had cost her father a small fortune for the stained-glass, she was sure he wouldn't be happy about having to replace it. She looked at the carpet where he'd fallen, and outside of it still being wet, there was no evidence of the blood that had been there the night before.

She jumped when Alex spoke from behind her. "Trinity? You okay?"

She swallowed at how close her father had come to dying the night before. "I'm fine. I think I'll shower and catch a nap," she said, turning away from him.

"Okay, well I'm going to head to the office and then home. I'll be back in the morning. If you need anything, let Ringo know. Try not to worry, everything will be fine."

She nodded. "Thanks again, Alex. I appreciate all you did for my father and me."

"Ma'am," he said with a smile and a slight bow of his head – a throwback to his Southern upbringing, no doubt.

Chapter 2

Trinity exhaustedly slid out of her black pumps and stepped into the luxuriously plush carpeting of her bedroom. She unclasped the thin black belt around her waist and reached behind to unzip her dress. Pulling the dress forward on her arms, she let it fall to pool at her feet. She bent and threw the dress over the chair seated in front of her vanity. She didn't know if it would be worth having the white dress cleaned or not. As she swung around, she caught her reflection in the long mirror attached to her wardrobe door. She grimaced at the scrapes on both her knees. She took in her reflection. Her long, dark hair was well cut and maintained so that it hung smooth and shiny down her back. Her figure was average – meaning average bust, incredibly small waist, and average bottom. Her face was average, with its best features being her full redden lips and large, round, dark eyes.

She let her gaze sweep the room she'd been in for the last fifteen years. There were none of the things found in most girls' rooms. There were no mementos from her old high school or college; no pictures of friends; no stuffed animals left behind from her childhood. The room was fashioned to be elegant – as her father wanted it. As she looked at the sterile environment, loneliness flooded her. While she'd never admit this to anyone, not even Sundra, her best friend, she was lonely. She wanted to find a man to date – for more than two dates, which was her average, and be a couple with him. She eventually wanted to marry and have kids, the normal things most girls wanted. But so far, she'd not managed to find this illusive creature. While she was asked out a lot, after no more than a couple of dates, the men just drifted away, usually without an explanation. She didn't know what was wrong with her. She didn't want to grow old with a houseful of cats. She wanted to grow old with someone beside her... someone to hold her and love her. Someone like Rush Drayton, she thought, but shook her head. No, he was definitely out of her league.

Her father, and probably Sundra, too, would be shocked to know how much of her time was filled with thoughts of love and sex. She often wondered what it would feel like to have the warmth of a man's hands running over her body; to feel his lips against her skin; to feel him as he claimed her body as his own. But so far in her nearly twenty-three years of life, she'd never found out. Again, she wondered what was wrong with her. Most girls her age had already had sex multiple times with multiple partners.

After a quick shower, she slid in between her white cotton sheets and closed her gritty eyes. She felt she had just closed her eyes when a soft tapping had her slowly reopening them. Stretching her aching muscles, she slipped on her housecoat.

"Come in," she said.

The door pushed open to reveal Ms. Gibbons, the woman who'd been the only mother she'd known since she was eight. Ms. Gibbons had been their housekeeper since before she was born.

"I wanted to let you know lunch is on the table, Trinity," Ms. Gibbons said.

While not feeling particularly hungry, Trinity smiled. "I'll be right down."

Since her father wasn't there to object, she pulled on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt and made her way downstairs, barefooted. She sat alone at the massive dining room table and ate the melon and prosciutto on her plate. She looked around the room thinking once again how lucky they all were. Thinking of her father reminded her of the case files she needed to retrieve for the courier coming the next day.

She rose and retrieved his keys from her purse and headed into his study. His study walls were paneled in deep, dark walnut paneling; two walls had built-in bookcases. In the center of the room was a massive desk her dad had procured from an estate sale. It was antique and elegantly carved. She sat at his desk and took in the familiar smell of the lemon wax polish Ms. Gibbons used. She leaned forward and picked up the picture of her mother and father taken on their honeymoon. Her father was a different man in this picture than he was now. He looked happy and carefree. They were standing on a beach and her mother was swept up in his arms and they were smiling. Her mother's long, dark hair, so much like her own, blew in the wind. With a catch in her chest at her loss, Trinity replaced the framed picture exactly where she'd gotten it from.

Turning back to the task at hand, she tried to remember which drawer her father had said. Not remembering, she stuck the key into a drawer and allowed it to slide out on its rollers. She glanced at the list of files needed from the piece of paper she'd gotten from Alex before beginning to thumb through the colored file folders, each neatly labeled. She frowned as she went from folder to folder: Adam Chancey; Tommy Lanier; Court Monroe; John Stanley; Alan Weber; Langston Montgomery; Scott Bowman... These were all boys she'd dated over the years. A scowl marred her features as she extracted one of folders. The label had Zander Greene typed on it. Flipping open the folder, she let her gaze skim the page. At the top of the page was Savannah Security, Inc. in big, bold typecast. From the words written, she was able to ascertain that she and Zander, the boy she'd gone to junior prom with, had been under surveillance. But why? At the bottom of the page, written in red ink, was the word: Eliminated.

Eliminated? What did that mean? From what she could remember, Zander had hounded her nonstop to go to prom with him. She'd been flattered, of course. He'd been good-looking and captain of the baseball team. After her one date with him to the prom, he'd suddenly lost interest in her. She'd been hurt, assuming she'd done something wrong.

She threw the folder on top of the desk and pulled out another. This one was labeled Andy Nelson, a man she went out with a couple times a month ago. She flipped open the file and glanced at the bottom, again in red ink was handwritten: Eliminated. She saw notated on the page the time he'd picked her up; the restaurant they'd gone to, and the movie theater and movie they'd seen. She saw the time he'd dropped her off and that Andy had kissed her outside the door. The make and model of his car was listed, as well as where he worked and how much he money he made. He apparently had no prior police record and paid his bills on time.

The folder slipped from her fingertips as the cold reality of what all these folders meant. Her father had her followed on every one of her dates and then had them 'eliminated'. Why would he do that? Of course, she knew why. Anger flooded her as she thought of all the times she'd sat in her room crying over one of these boys who'd stopped speaking to her or avoided her. She'd thought it had been her, when it had been her father! She was so tired of his overprotective heavy handedness.

A clawing feeling of claustrophobia settled in her chest. Needing to get out, she went up to her room and changed quickly into a pair of jeans and a white sweater. She quietly slipped out of her bedroom. She peered over the banister just in time to see Ringo head for the kitchen. Moving stealthily down the stairs, she glanced back at the hall leading to the kitchen, not seeing anyone; she slipped out the front door, and closed it soundlessly behind her.

She walked quickly down two blocks and entered a small coffee shop called The Hotspot. She went to the counter and bought a cup of coffee and sat in a booth. She pulled out her phone and called for a taxi. Her hands began to tremble as she thought about the total evasion of her life. She might have been able to understand when she was a child, but a month ago? This was just too much. He'd gone too far this time. Her chest burned with hurt and humiliation. She wondered what had been said to those boys and men.

She rose when the taxi pulled up. She slid into the backseat. "The Savannah Museum of Art, please."

Needing peace, she headed to the only place that would give it to her. The museum housed several different exhibits, ranging from paintings, to sculptures, to rare artifacts. Trinity's favorite section was the sculptures. She gave a wave to Henry, the man at the admissions counter. She'd been here so many times, he knew her now by first name.

Moving quickly through the museum, she entered the huge atrium which housed the sculptures. Three sides of the atrium were engineered out of weathered glass. Surrounding the atrium were beautiful gardens full of colorful flowers and lush green shrubs. She slowed her walk and breathed in the beauty of her surroundings. She was happy to see the room empty as she'd hoped it would at this time on a Friday. She moved to the stone bench in the center of the room and sat down with her purse in her lap. A thought crossed her mind, and she quickly opened her purse and pulled out her airline ticket; she'd been afraid her father might have somehow taken it. Her eyes stung with renewed frustration.

She inhaled a deep, calming breath and allowed her eyes to flow over each sculpture, over their smooth lines and intricate carvings. She liked the Roman pieces the best. Their features were strong and bold. Their muscles so defined, she could almost imagine they were real. The burn in her chest lessened as she sat. She once again breathed in a cleansing breath, and wasn't aware of the tears on her cheeks until that moment.

"They're quite breathtaking, aren't they?"

She jumped at the familiar male voice behind her. She raised a hand to her face to swipe at the tears and cleared her throat. "Yes, they really are," she murmured without turning around. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man move to the bench and sit down. She continued to stare straight ahead at the finely honed masterpieces.

"This is my favorite place in the museum," Rush Drayton said with husky undertones.

"Mine, too," she said softly.

"To have that kind of genius inside must be a wonderful thing," he continued.

She only nodded, wishing he'd either leave, or at the very least, leave her alone.

"You have to wonder, though, if it doesn't take a little bit of insanity to create something this surreal."

Surprised at his obvious appreciation of the works, she said, "Aristotle said there is no great genius without a mixture of madness." She turned her head for the first time to the man sitting next to her.

She had to swallow to keep from gasping at how stunning the man was. He was the one that was surreal. He reminded her of the statues. He was still facing the sculptures, pondering her quote, she supposed. He was tanned and his lips were full and curved into a soft smile as he studied the white marble before him. He must have felt her stare because he turned his head towards her. She swallowed again at how absolutely breathtaking he was.

"Aristotle, huh? I'm gonna use that quote if you don't mind," he said with a grin.

She blushed and looked away. "Please do. I'm sure Aristotle would have liked to be quoted."

"Trinity, wasn't it? Beautiful name," he said.

Clearing her throat again, she smiled. "Thanks."

"Going somewhere?" he asked, pointing down at the plane ticket clutched tightly within her grasp.

"Thinking about it," she replied, "Vail."

"Ahh. I own a few properties in Vail. It's a great place."

Before she could reply, her phone blared out its ringtone. She blushed and scrambled to reclaim it from her purse, irritated at herself for forgetting to turn it off. She gave Rush Drayton an apologetic smile. Rising from the bench, she clicked the phone on.

"Hello," she murmured.

"Where the hell are you?" Alex Masters asked with irritation.

"None of your business!"

"You can either tell me where you are, or I'll simply..."

She clicked the phone off in the middle of his threat. She was a grown woman of legal age. She did not need to be babysat. She took a deep breath, suddenly feeling claustrophobic again. It seemed no matter how she struggled, she couldn't get enough air. She was suffocating. She felt even further trapped by the man sitting behind her, obviously watching her with avid interest.

Turning quickly, she practically ran from the room. Behind her, she heard the godlike man call after her, but she kept going. Her father had a stranglehold on her, and she didn't know how to loosen its grip.

She stepped outside the museum and flagged down one of the taxis cruising the street.

"The airport, please," she said as she leaned back in the seat. She flipped open her purse and double-checked her ticket was still there. When the taxi pulled up in front of the airport, Trinity paid him and got out. She sighed heavily at knowing she had no clothes and would need to buy everything when she arrived in Colorado.

She only had to wait an hour to catch the flight to Vail. She'd texted Sundra to let her know she was on her way. When she reached the Denver International Airport, her phone sang out its ringtone. She glanced briefly at it and sighed.

Once she stepped outside of the airport, her breath was taken away by the brisk coldness. She'd definitely need winter clothing and a coat. She hurried down to the car rental agency and rented a car equipped with GPS to get her to Vail. She plugged in the information and was happy to see it'd only take her a couple of hours to reach Sundra's condo.

She was about an hour into her drive when her phone rang for the hundredth time. She glanced at the display and saw it was her father. While feelings of frustration and anger rushed over her, old ingrained feelings of obligation and duty won out.

"Hey, Dad," she answered.

"Trinity. Thank God. I've been so worried. Where are you? Alex has been so worried. Why would you leave like that?"

"I'm fine. Please don't worry about me. I'll see you in a few days."

"Wait. What? No, absolutely not! You need to go home right this instant. Do you hear me, young lady?" he ended on a heated note.

"Feel better," she murmured, before clicking off.

Her phone continued to ring, but she ignored it.

She pulled into the parking lot of the ten-story condominium complex a little after five in the afternoon. She parked, called Sundra to let her know she was on her way up, and grabbed her purse. Her beautiful, red-haired friend met her when she reached the door.

Squealing in delight, Sundra said, "I can't believe you talked your father into letting you come. This is going to be so great!" Sundra grabbed her and spun her around. Trinity grinned and let some of the last few hours fall away. Sundra always had that effect on her.

"Well, I wouldn't say 'let', exactly. In fact, I don't have any clothes," Trinity said.

"Don't worry about it, you can wear some of mine, I brought plenty! Come on. You're just in time to get ready and come out with us," she said, leading her friend into the condo. "You can sleep in the room with me."

As they walked into the living room, Trinity saw three other girls in various stages of dressed and undressed.

"Hey, girls. Look who finally made it," Sundra said with glee.

The other three girls were friends of Sundra's, and while she knew them, it was only by extension of Sundra. They all turned and called out an excited greeting. More somber and reserved than them by nature, Trinity gave a small wave and followed Sundra to their room.

* *

The nightclub the girls had chosen was loud and dark. After two hours of drinking and dancing with them, Trinity was starting to unwind and enjoy herself. Her phone continued to vibrate against her hip all night, but she steadfastly ignored it. When the song ended, she excused herself from the dancing group of girls and headed back to the table. She'd barely sat down when her phone vibrated again. Annoyed, she reached into her pocket and once again saw it was her father. She blew out a deep breath and rose from her seat, heading into the bathroom where the noise was lessened.

"Hello, Father."

"Trinity! You will answer the phone when I call. Do you hear me?" her father proclaimed.

Anger flooded her. She thought of all the years of frustration and angst. Years of having to tow the 'proper' line. Years of being controlled and manipulated. Those days were now over. It was time she took control of her own life. "You don't get to decide my life any longer. You have made the very last decision on my behalf. Now it is you who has been eliminated. Goodbye."

She hung up with a flourish and sagged against the bathroom wall, enjoying her independence. How dare he think he could make demands on her! He could go take a flying leap. She was tired of playing by his rules... by everyone's rules. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and saw the same uptight, nicely groomed girl she'd always been.

She tugged the hairclip out of her hair and bent at the waist before shaking her head wildly. As she rose, she flipped her long hair back. The girl in the mirror now looked wild and untamed... just like she felt on the inside. Change was on its way, she decided. She grinned at her reflection before moving purposefully towards the bathroom door. She was no longer the correct Judge's daughter... oh no, now she was Trinity Grace, wild woman!

She went to the bar and slipped into a chair, waiting to get the bartender's attention. A pitcher of margaritas would definitely thrill the other girls. Maybe she'd even do a couple shots before she headed back.

The spiky-haired bartender smiled at her. "What can I get for you?"

"I'd like a pitcher of margaritas and two shots of tequila," she declared with her best flirty smile.

"You got it," he smiled back.

As she waited, she turned to lean back against the bar so she could watch the excitement of the room. She tapped her foot in time to the beat of the music, feeling freer than she'd felt in her whole life – liberated.

She turned back when the bartender set her order on the bar. She pulled a fifty out of her back pocket and handed it to him.

"Keep the change," she said with a laugh.

She picked up one of the shots and tossed it back, following it by a slice of lime. The tequila felt like acid sliding down her throat and it exploded when it hit her stomach. She sucked in a deep breath. Once she was able, she picked up the second shot and tossed it back, as well. This time, the slide was easier. Feeling invigorated through her alcohol consumption and independence, she turned back to the bartender, who grinned at her exuberance.

"Two more on the house," the bartender said, setting two more shots on the bar.

She grinned at him and picked up one of the shots and saluted him before tossing it back. It barely stung this time.

As she moved to pick up the second, she heard a husky male voice next to her chuckle. "Wow. That must be some celebration you're having."

She turned her head with a smile on her lips to the voice next to her. Her smile grew even wider when she saw who the voice belonged to.

"Hunter Amhearst! What are you doing here?" she exclaimed as she set the shot down and threw her arms around his neck.

Sliding his arms down to link his hands behind her waist, he smiled down at her. "For the same reason you are, I'm sure – Sundra invited me."

"Where are you staying?"

"By coincidence, a friend of mine from Savannah called, and when I told him I was coming here, he decided to tag along. And when I say tag along, I mean: fly me here in his plane; and as he owns a slew of condominiums here in Vail. I'm staying at his place," he replied.

"Lucky you," she grinned.

"Yep, I am. He's a pretty good guy, you'd like him. In fact, I'd like you to meet him." Looking down at the end of the bar, he continued, "Well, maybe later, it looks like he's tied up right now," he said with a laugh.

She looked down where Hunter had indicated. Standing at the end of the bar, leaning negligently against it was the same man who'd sat by her in the museum prior to her mad dash from Savannah. What were the chances? Rush Drayton had exchanged his Armani suit for jeans and a white long-sleeved T-shirt, which molded his broad torso and showcased his chest splendidly. He reminded her even more of the statues she studied at the museum. He was perfect, beautiful, and magnificent. She knew she should look away, but couldn't force her eyes from him. Currently, his attention was captured by a young blonde woman in a very short skirt. Trinity swallowed when his face split into a devastatingly devilish grin at something the girl said to him. She dragged her eyes back to Hunter's when he chuckled.

"Yep, that's usually every girl's reaction to him. I don't see it myself."

Trinity had the good grace to blush.

"Where are you working? You finished school, didn't you?" he asked.

She laughed embarrassedly at his prior comment. "I did finish. I'm working at LaMont Fine Arts, she responded.

"Wow, that's impressive. Gavin Lassiter is a legend. You'll learn a lot from him."

"I absolutely am."

She was forced to move aside when Sundra rushed over to hug Hunter.

"Hunter! When did you arrive? You were suppose to call me, you bad boy. Come on, all the girls are dying to meet you. Come on, Trinity. Is that pitcher of margaritas for us?" At her nod, she continued, "Good, bring it with you." Sundra had gone a couple of steps before turning back, "Hey, you might need to get another pitcher, okay?"

"Okay," she answered.

As she waited for the second pitcher of margaritas, she turned her head and stared at the man at the end of the bar covertly under her lashes. When he turned his head and caught her staring at him, she smiled hesitantly at him and gave a small wave, embarrassed. He lifted his glass and tipped it in her direction while gracing her with a smile. Once the second pitcher was ready, she paid, then grabbed both pitchers and headed back to the table.

As the night progressed, Trinity found herself continually seeking out the man at the bar. He stood as he had when she first saw him, leaning against the bar. He seemed a man set apart from everyone else, like an island unto himself. While he was a part of the room, he was removed from it at the same time. He seemed... isolated. This was a silly notion, as he was never left alone for any amount of time. Woman after woman approached him and gave it their best shot, but outside of the obvious flirtation, they all walked away as if dismissed.

Trinity made a concerted effort to put him out of her mind and just enjoy her first night of freedom. Hunter dragged her out on the dance floor time and time again. She laughed and allowed herself to be the twenty-two-year-old she was.

Hunter had her back on the floor for what seemed the hundredth time and was spinning her around, making her dizzy. She laughed up into his face and gripped his biceps within her hands to stop from falling. His gaze left hers for an instant to stare just over her shoulder.

He smirked at her and said, "Well, well. It looks like you are Cinderella, my queen."

She laughed at his words while not really understanding them.

"Cinderella? What do you mean?" she asked. "Queen?" she said on a laugh.

He nodded his head at something behind her. She scrunched her eyebrows at him in confusion.

"What?"

As the fast beat of the music was transitioned into a slower beat, Hunter spun her around so she could see what had gained his attention. Walking purposefully towards them was Rush Drayton. As he approached, the heat level in the room seemed to rise until she was flushed with it. He captured her eyes and held them steadily as he approached. Without conscious thought, she dropped her arms from around Hunter's neck.

Hunter dropped his arms as well and turned to his friend. "Hey, Rush. I thought you'd gotten glued to the bar, buddy," Hunter said in greeting, having to shout over the music.

Rush smiled at the words but didn't take his eyes off hers.

"Small world, huh?" he asked smoothly.

"It certainly is," she replied with a smile

Her head buzzed with the heat and the alcohol as she gazed up into his hazel eyes. He held her gaze for a long moment.

Trinity watched as Hunter was tugged away by Sundra. Feeling awkward at being left on the dance floor with the gorgeous man next to her, she gave him a hesitant smile before turning back to the table.

He caught her hand as she passed and gave a gentle tug, pulling her smoothly into his arms. "Dance with me." His words were more of a command than a request.

Automatically, she followed his instruction, not once considering refusing him. As she had with Hunter, she placed her hands on his biceps. His muscles were like stone beneath her fingers. She glanced up and blushed as he grinned at her. With smooth fluidity, he moved them slowly in time to the music.

He placed his lips close to her ear so he could be heard over the music. "Well, of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine."

She tilted her head to look into his incredibly sexy eyes.

She smiled a little hesitantly. "Ahh. Casablanca. It's no Aristotle, but fitting, nonetheless."

He grinned. "So how do you know Hunt?" he asked.

She swallowed against her sudden case of nerves. "I was an art major, and he taught some of the classes. How about you?"

"We went to school together."

"How long have you lived in Savannah?" she asked.

"I'm Savannah born and bred, as they say," he said with a grin.

He was just so beautiful, and when he smiled, it was devastating. She gave him a returning smile. He applied a little pressure to her lower back and brought her body closer to his. She closed her eyes at the embrace and swallowed down her excitement at being held on the dance floor by this amazing man. She inhaled deeply to calm her nerves and his scent encompassed her, seemed to surround her, almost dazzling her.

Her phone vibrated in her hip pocket between them. He drew back and grinned suggestively at the vibration of the phone against his body.

"Do you need to get that?" he mused.

She merely shook her and looked away, not wanting to think about her father right now.

He halted briefly before continuing the dance. His body tensed against hers. "Are you involved with someone?" he asked with a sharp edge to his voice.

"No," she answered. She looked up into his face, quizzically, and shook her head.

She felt his body relax back against hers as he rested his lips back against her ear. "Good," he murmured.

He tensed again, however, when mere seconds later, her phone once again began to vibrate. She heaved a huge sigh, knowing she needed to put an end to the calls once and for all. She dropped her hand from his arms.

She leaned up to speak into his ear. "I do need to take this. Thanks for the dance."

She gave him a quick smile before turning and walking out the front door of the club.

She stepped a little way down the sidewalk and away from the noise before answering. "Hello."

"Young lady, can you please explain to me why you are in Vail? I expressly told you it wasn't allowed?" her father burst out loudly.

Trinity felt the heat flow up her neck and face at his words. "How do you know I'm in Vail, exactly?" she asked with deadly calm.

"Alex tracked your phone, of course," he answered as if it were no big deal, and was, in fact, a stupid question.

She closed her eyes and rubbed a finger against her temple. When she reopened them, she saw Rush leaning against the wall, right outside the club, watching her intently while still affording her privacy.

"This isn't a good time," she answered with a quick glance at Rush.

"What the hell do you mean it's not a good time? You need to get yourself home on the next plane. The next plane! Do I make myself clear?"

Turning away from Rush and pushing one hand in her front pocket, she said, "Or what, Dad? What will you do? Will you eliminate me like you did all my dates? How could you? What right did you have? Do you know how hurt I am? How embarrassed I am? Do you even care?"

"You had no right going through my things," he exclaimed.

"I had no right?" she laughed without humor. "You have got to be kidding me. I'm hanging up now, and I will not be answering again. Do you understand?"

"How dare..." he began before she slowly clicked the phone off.

She stood for a long time staring at the phone in her hand. He'd tracked her through her cellphone – like she was a child. In a fit of anger, she slammed the offending object on the ground and rammed the heel of her boot down on it over and over again until it was obliterated.

Hurt, anger, and frustration washed over her in droves. She was sick and tired of being handled and bullied by him. Deep down, she felt like crying at the level of trust which had been broken. She'd always done as he'd asked and never ventured outside whatever lines he'd drawn. He was her only parent, her only family, and he'd treated her like one of the hundreds which came before his court everyday.

She jumped at the hand on her shoulder. She turned her head and looked up into the hazel eyes of Rush Drayton.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

Her stomach tied up in knots at his touch and nearness. Slowly, she nodded. She cleared her throat. "I should get back to the group. You can join us, if you want."

Almost as if he couldn't help himself, he reached up a hand and smoothed the hair from her face.

"I'd like that," he answered quietly.

Together, they walked back into the bar. He held the door open for her and she smiled her thanks, albeit, a strained smile, her night ruined by a man more than seventeen hundred miles away.

By the time they arrived at the table, Hunter had all three girls out on the floor dancing. Trinity grabbed a seat.

Rush leaned in to speak in her ear. "Do you want to dance?"

She gave a strained smile and shook her head. She waved with her hand, telling him to go ahead without her. He smiled down at her and just shook his head. Instead, he grabbed a chair, sat next to her, and draped an arm across the back of her chair as they sat and watched those on the dance floor. Furious anger swelled within her, and she tensed involuntarily as thoughts of her father filled her head.

Lifting her glass, she drained it before refilling it again. She glanced at Rush sitting next to her to find him watching her intently. She couldn't really deal with him right now, either. She lifted the glass once more to her lips, trying to stave off the edgy feelings settling in her belly. Rush leaned forward and stayed her hand. She turned her eyes to his questioningly. He rose and held out a hand to her. She looked up at him, again questioningly. It was then she noticed the music had slowed, the lights going even dimmer. Her stomach muscles clenched at the thought of being that close to him again. She began to shake her head, but he tugged her body up to his, leaving her no choice.

She swallowed but allowed him to lead her to the floor. As if he just somehow knew she was feeling vulnerable and raw, he pressed her tightly against his chest and wrapped his powerful arms around her. He rested his cheek against her hair and together they swayed to the gentle music. She breathed in his clean, male scent.

She wondered how mad her father would be if she slept with a man she'd just met? Maybe she should have slept with them all on the first date; it obviously would have been her only opportunity before they were 'eliminated'. Her jaw clenched against his chest.

As if he could read her mind, goose bumps rose on her skin when he leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Do you want to get out of here?"

She hesitated only briefly before looking up into his eyes and nodding. He flashed her a knowing smile and grabbed her hand. He stopped long enough to speak to Hunter, and together they walked out of the club.

She shivered when they stepped back out into the cold, night air. He pulled her closer to his body for warmth. While she knew she should probably be affronted at his liberties, she found she liked him taking charge... how ironic was that? The alcohol in her system and her irritation at her father dulled the nerves which would have normally ruled her.

"Have you been to Vail before?" he asked.

"No, this is my first time."

"I have something I want to show you then. You game?" he asked with a grin.

"For just about anything," she answered with a hint of defiance in her tone.

His lips twisted wryly and he chuckled. "Good to know."

He walked them quickly to a nearby ski-lift, rented a blanket, and purchased passes for the lift. He held onto her tightly as the lift came up behind them. The heat from his body warmed the cocoon he'd made with the blanket covering them.

"The lights from up here are so beautiful at night. Everyone should see it at least once," he said against her ear.

And he was right. The black sky was the perfect backdrop for the stars up above and lights down below.

"It's magnificent," she whispered, not wanting to disturb the night. The artist in her was touched by the beauty.

Rush had his arm draped over her shoulders and was drawing small patterns on her arm with his fingertips.

She looked up at him sitting close to her. "Thank you for bringing me here," she said softly.

He stared intently into her eyes before his gaze shifted to her mouth. She inhaled at the heat of his stare; it was almost like a physical touch.

"You're welcome," he replied.

She held her breath as he brought a hand to her face and traced the curve of her jaw.

"I want to see you again," he murmured. "Spend the day with me tomorrow."

"I don't..." she began.

He silenced her by pressing his fingertips against her lips. "Just say yes," he commanded softly.

Staring up into his beautiful face, she whispered, "Yes."

He rewarded her with a smile which made her heart jump within her chest. "Good girl."

Sitting back in his seat, he pulled her closer to his chest and rested his head against her hair, lacing his fingers with hers. They rode the rest of the way in silence. When they were eventually returned back to their starting point, he held her hand as they walked back to the bar. He led her to a rental car in the parking lot. He unlocked her door and shut the door behind her.

He slid into the driver's side and asked, "Where to?"

"The Dragon Towers I. Do you know where that is?" she asked.

His lips twitched. "Of course. I'm staying in the next complex over, Dragon Towers II."

She cocked her head in thought, remembering her earlier conversation with Hunter.

"You own both Towers, don't you?" she said with a grin.

He grinned back at her. "Guilty."

He drove carefully through the snow-covered streets. When he arrived at the condominium, he parked in a reserved parking spot, walked around to her side, and opened her door. He helped her out of the car and shut the door behind her. Instead of walking towards the condo entrance as she expected, he instead stood in front of her. His height demanded she look up into his face.

As he had on the ski-lift, he lifted a hand to trace the angle of her jaw. His gaze shifted from her eyes to her lips. He placed his hands on either side of her on the car's roof, effectively capturing her within the prison of his arms. She closed her eyes as he drew closer. Her heart began to pound and her breathing became rapid. His lips were a contradiction when they met hers. They were firm yet soft; and hot but cool. He inhaled sharply at the contact and drew back to study her again before pressing his lips back against hers. With the smallest of pressure, he opened her mouth with the tip of his tongue. With slow, flickering touches, he stroked into her mouth. The satiny feel of his tongue against her own had her panting as she struggled to catch her breath. At the sound of her increased breathing, he growled against her lips, and leaned in further to increase the pressure. She whimpered as she slid her arms around his waist. He wrapped his arms around her to draw her more snuggly against his body.

His breathing was heavy when he pulled back. With a gentle hand he ran his fingertips over her bottom lip and studied it intently.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured, sounding almost surprised, as if he'd just realized it.

She swallowed and blushed at his words, wanting to look away, but finding herself unable.

"Spend the night with me," he demanded in soft, commanding tones.

She blinked at his words. The bravado of her earlier thoughts fell away. No matter how magnificent he was, she'd just met him, and the fact of the matter was, they had a working relationship. "No," she responded.

He hesitated at her words, obviously surprised.

He gave her a small grin, "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

With his looks, she was sure he wasn't used to being turned down. With a heavy sigh of regret, he leaned forward and lightly pressed his lips against hers.

"Meet me for breakfast," he demanded.

"Okay," she replied.

"Dress warm," he warned.

"I will."

"Let's say I'll meet you in the lobby at seven," he said.

"Seven," she parroted.

He hugged her tight once more and brushed his lips against her forehead.

Chapter 3

Sundra pounded on her the second she entered the condo. "Oh, my God! You are so lucky. Rush Drayton is an absolute babe! Did you sleep with him?" she asked with a grin.

"No, of course not," Trinity scoffed. "I just met him. Actually, it's weird, really. I met him for the first time a couple days ago when he brought a painting to the gallery, and then I saw him at the museum right before I left Savannah for here."

"Maybe he's following you," Sundra said with a grin.

"Right," Trinity scoffed again. "Rush Drayton could literally have any woman he wanted, and he's going to follow me around town and then all the way to Vail? I don't think so."

Sundra clasped her hands to her chest. "How romantic would that be? Are you seeing him again?"

"We're spending the day together tomorrow, if that's okay with you?"

Sundra gave her a 'Don't be stupid' look. "Of course it's okay. Do yourself a favor and sleep with the man. I don't know how or why you've held on to your virginity this long. He'd definitely be worth giving it to. I bet he'd make it memorable."

After her shower, Trinity lay on her side and thought about Rush Drayton. He was a marvelous contradiction of hot and cold; he made her feel off-kilter. He seemed both close and distant all at the same time. It was very confusing. Maybe she just wasn't good at reading sexual signals... it wasn't as if she had much experience... or any, really.

* *

The condo filled with five young women was strangely silent as Trinity crept around getting ready for the day with Rush Drayton. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Not knowing what the day would bring, she dressed in layers, borrowing, once again, clothes belonging to Sundra. She grimaced a little at the clothes; they weren't things she'd normally wear – or anything of which her father would have approved. She smiled at her defiance and tugged on the white snug-fitting ski pants. She topped it with a rainbow striped sweater and grabbed a jacket.

Rush was waiting for her when she stepped out of the elevator. She'd half wondered if maybe he wouldn't show. He seemed kind of a in the moment kind of a guy. Her smile faltered when she looked up into his hard eyes. He blinked at her expression and the hardness was gone instantly when he smiled at her.

He wrapped his arms lightly around her waist and brought her closer to him.

"You look lovely," he murmured, as he brushed his lips lightly against hers.

The soft touch of his lips made the butterflies beat their tiny wings frantically against the walls of her stomach. Almost involuntarily, she slid her hands up his chest to further the contact. He pulled his lips away from hers and wrapped her tighter against his chest. It was then she became aware of the people swarming around them. Color infused her cheeks.

"Sorry," she mumbled against his chest.

"Don't be," he whispered in her hair. "Come, let's go get breakfast. I know a place close to the ski lodge. Then how about a little skiing? You okay with that?"

"Of course," she smiled up into his beautiful face.

"Excellent."

"So how did you becoming interested in art restoration?" he asked once their food was placed in front of them.

"Umm. That's a tough question. I've always been interested in art; I have always found the beauty in it." She hesitated as she thought about her answer. "But really, I guess, because it was a profession my father found suitable for me."

"Your father found suitable for you?"

"He's a little... controlling," she answered slowly.

"What does your father do?" Rush asked.

"He's a Judge in the District Court."

Rush's lips thinned at her answer.

"Do you know him?" she asked.

He lifted his eyes to hers and flashed a quick smile, which she found suddenly insincere.

"No. I mean, I've heard of him, of course. But I've never had the pleasure of meeting him."

Again, while what he said was appropriate, Trinity couldn't shake the feeling he wasn't being truthful in some way.

Nerves fluttered in her stomach. "Rush, is everything okay?" she asked softly.

He lifted quizzical eyebrows at her. "Of course. Why do you ask?"

She studied him for a moment and smiled hesitantly. "No reason, I guess."

"What could possibly be wrong? It's a beautiful day and I'm having breakfast with a beautiful woman." He paused from buttering his toast to grin over at her. "In fact, the only thing that would have made this day better was if I'd woken up with said beautiful woman in my bed this morning. But we can't have everything," he jested.

She blushed at his words. "Thank you, I think," she said with a small laugh.

As he continued tucking into his breakfast, he asked, "Do you paint?"

Trinity thought about the stacks of painted canvases stacked in the closet of her bedroom. "Some, just not very well. My philosophy is: those that can't paint – restore the works of those who can."

"I'm sure you don't give yourself enough credit." He paused as he looked down to pour cream into his coffee. "What does your father think of your paintings?"

She gave a mirthful laugh. "He'd be the first to tell me not to quit my day job."

His lips hardened at her response. "That's not very supportive."

"He only wants what's best for me," she said, feeling the need to defend him for some reason.

Changing the flow of conversation, he said, "I'd like to see them sometime."

"Of course," she murmured, happy to think that he'd maybe want to see her once they were home. As she cut into her pancakes, she said, "So, it seems you know an awful lot about me, but I actually know nothing about you."

"What would you like to know?" he asked.

"Gavin told me you were in business, what is it that you do?"

He leaned back in his seat and sipped his coffee before responding, "I'm the CEO of DrayCo. I took over when my grandfather retired about five years ago."

Immediately, a picture of the DrayCo's impressive multistory building flashed in her mind. It was housed in the industrial park of Savannah. The building's exterior was completely made up of bronze glass. "I've seen your building in the business district. It's very beautiful."

"Thanks. We have to keep up with the times. I never could talk my grandfather into moving from the old building, but once he left, I thought it was indeed time for a change."

"What about your parents?" she asked.

The same hardness she spied at the elevator returned to his eyes. When he felt her stare, he lowered them to his cup. "My parents... died ten years ago," he responded softly. He lifted his eyes back to hers, seemingly to gauge her response.

She reached a hand over to lay it on top of his. "I'm so sorry," she murmured, before removing her hand and looking away, embarrassed at bringing up such painful memories.

"It was a long time ago."

"My mom was killed a long time ago as well, so I know the pain continues to linger. I'm sorry for bringing up something so private," she replied softly.

He stared into her eyes for a long time – looking for something – she wasn't sure what.

"May I ask what happened to your mother?"

Trinity cleared her throat before glancing back down at the breakfast she no longer found appealing. "When I was young girl, my mom and I were abducted and she was killed," she answered quietly.

"Wow! That's awful," he exclaimed softly.

Staring down into her cup, she asked, "Do you remember your mother?"

After a beat, he answered. "Yes."

In a whisper, she said, "Sometimes I can't remember my mother's face. I think if I didn't have her picture, I'd eventually forget what she looked like." With a wry twist of her lips, she raised her eyes back to his. He was staring at her with such an odd expression, almost as if he didn't understand her words. "How does someone forget their own mother's face?" she scoffed quietly.

This time it was he who leaned over and placed a hand on hers. "You were a child, and unfortunately, memories fade."

She glanced down once more into her coffee. "But not the pain. It hurts just as much now as it did the day she died."

"I know," he murmured.

She lifted her eyes again and gave him a sad smile. "Yes, I guess you do. What happened to your parents?"

A mask of passivity fell across his features. Leaning back in his seat, he eyed her speculatively before responding. "It was a long time ago. Let's talk about more pleasant things, shall we?" he asked with soft smile that didn't entirely reach his eyes.

* *

Once they'd finished eating. He took her hand and led her over to the ski-lift which would take them up the white powdered mountain.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked with a grin.

She was glad his earlier good mood had been restored. "It's been a while. I might be a little rusty."

He tugged her close to his side and murmured next to her ear, "Don't worry, we'll take it nice and slow."

From his tone, she wasn't sure if they were still talking about skiing or not.

It took only a few practice runs before Trinity got her ski legs back. It was exhilarating to feel the wind whip around her face and feel the swish of snow beneath her skis. While she wasn't as skilled as Rush, she felt she held her own quite nicely. The morning passed all too quickly.

They were standing once more at the top of the mountain. "How about one more run then we'll break for lunch? Sound good?" Rush asked.

She smiled exuberantly up at him, enjoying herself. "Sounds great. I'll race you down," she shouted as she pushed off. "Loser buys lunch!"

He grinned and pushed off. Trinity grinned in response as she swished side to side. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Rush just off to the side of her. She was determined he would not beat her! Angling her body down for speed, she leaned over her skis and narrowed her swishing motions to instigate momentum. She had to turn her head to see where he was behind her. She laughed at his surprised expression. As she turned her head back around, it was then she saw the jutting rocks, but it was too late; she didn't have time to correct her path. Her right ski caught the rock, causing her to spiral out of control. She tried to right herself, but was unable. She began to tumble over and over until she landed in a heap at the bottom.

She lay dazed as the wind was knocked out of her. She tentatively moved her limbs to see if she'd broken anything, but she thought she was okay. In mere seconds of landing, she felt the spray of snow as Rush came to an abrupt halt next to her. Snapping off his skis, he moved quickly to her.

"Trinity, are you okay?"

She grinned sheepishly up at him. "You're so buying lunch."

He hesitated before throwing his head back and laughing. "Okay, deal. Let me help you up."

Her muscles groaned underneath her skin as he leveraged her up against his body. "Oh, that's really going to hurt tomorrow, I think," she said.

He grinned. "You can count on it. I certainly wouldn't be opposed in giving you a little massage later."

She blushed as she thought about his hands rubbing oils into her flesh. He stared down at her for a long moment with an odd expression before lowering his lips to hers. With soft, easy licks of his tongue, he eased into her mouth. He rubbed his hands over her shoulders and down her back. As he investigated every inch of her mouth, he lowered his hands to slide them over the tight skipants covering her bottom. He lifted her up into him as he groaned. As she had in the hotel, she slid her hands up his rock-hard chest and up around his neck. He kissed her slowly and leisurely. She was panting when he pulled back. She was afraid to open her eyes – wanting the feeling to continue.

"We... need to get back," he said softly against her ear.

"I know," she whispered.

Rush tucked her hair behind her ears and studied her face intently. "You are quite unexpected," he murmured. With a shake of his head, he reached down and retrieved their skis.

He seemed lost in thought as they made their way back to the lodge – somber even. He gave her an encouraging smile as they waited to be seated for lunch. The dining room was situated in front of a massive fireplace which covered the entirety of one wall. The roaring flames contained within it supplied the room with a coating of warmth.

"I was thinking after lunch, once we've allowed our food to digest, we could rent a snowmobile and hit the trails," he said as he perused the menu.

The thought of pressing her body up against his as they rode, made her stomach muscles clench. "That would be fun."

"Was there anything else you wanted to do?" he asked.

"No."

Without raising his eyes from the menu, he said, "Then later, we could order dinner in; maybe rent a movie."

Her breathing became ragged as she took in his words. Beating down the fluttering butterflies, she replied, "Okay."

He lowered his menu, stared into her eyes, and smiled, "Okay."

The afternoon skies were clear and the sun caused the snow to sparkle. As Rush guided the snowmobile over miles of trails, Trinity happily sat behind him, hugging her body close to his. She loved the feel of the muscles in his back against her face and the muscles of his taut abdomen under her fingertips. The day was perfect, and while nervous about the evening coming, she was excited. She remembered Sundra's words from earlier that morning, Do yourself a favor and sleep with the man. Could she really do this? When she thought about how it felt when he kissed her, she thought she could.

Once the sun began to drop into its resting place in the western sky, they returned the rented snowmobile and headed back. He pulled into his reserved parking space, and, as with the night before, he opened her door and caged her within his arms. She leaned back against the car and looked up into his angular face. He smiled down at her before lowering his lips to hers. His kiss was soft and gentle.

Pulling back, he said, "Don't be long."

"I won't," she promised.

"I'll meet you in the lobby in an hour, okay?"

"You don't have to do that. I can walk over to your place," she replied.

"That wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me, would it?" he scoffed.

She gave him a wide-toothed smile. "A gentleman, you say?"

"Why, yes, ma'am, in true Southern style," he said in his best southern drawl.

She laughed and he grinned down at her. He pressed his lips to hers once more. "An hour," he reiterated.

As she entered the lobby, she turned and entered the condo's small boutique found off the lobby's entrance. She sorted through the meager selection of lingerie and picked up several items. She grimaced at the prices, but was happy to have her own clean underthings.

Trinity was surprised to find the condo empty. She found a note from Sundra stating they'd met Hunter and had gone ice skating, and from there, out on the town. She smiled at Sundra's last line,...don't do anything I wouldn't, but do everything I would! With a squeal of excitement, she ran into the bedroom and removed her clothes before jumping into the shower. She took extra care with shaving her legs and washing her hair. She wanted everything to be perfect. A small fission of fear threatened to weave its way into her belly, but she fought it back.

She slipped on lacy black panties before blow-drying her hair. When satisfied, she turned to Sundra's closet to find something to wear. She flipped through the various items until she came upon a little black dress which had a fitted halter-top bodice and flared skirt. She found some black stilettos to pair with the dress. Overall, she was happy with the effect when she stood before the mirror. Her hair was shiny and smooth. She'd left it down instead of clasping it at her nape as she usually did. When her hour was up, she took a deep breath and headed downstairs.

Her breathing became rapid as she rode the elevator down. She smoothed a hand nervously down her dress and pulled her black wrap a little closer around her shoulders. She swallowed when the elevator's ping announced its arrival to the lobby. She stepped carefully into the lobby and looked down as she moved in the unaccustomed high-heeled shoes. A sharp intake of breath had her lifting her head to stare into the fathomless hazel eyes of Rush Drayton.

"You... look sensational," he said. Ignoring the people moving around them, he placed her face in his palms and pressed his lips against hers. He lifted his head and stroked his thumb against her bottom lip. "So very beautiful," he murmured. She blushed at his words.

Clearing his throat, he said, "Are you ready?"

Her heart jumped in her chest. "I think so."

Without another word, he took her hand within his and led her through the lobby and out into the clear night air. She pulled her wrap a little closer to her body.

"Cold?" he asked against her ear as he wrapped his arm around her and tucked her closer to his side.

"A little," she replied.

"I'll have to see what I can do to warm you up," he said with a grin.

A wash of heat flowed over her body at just how he would warm her up, and she shivered.

They followed the sidewalk running between the two condominiums and entered the lobby of Dragon Towers II. He dropped his arm as they entered while retaining her hand. He reached into his back pocket and removed a keycard that would give them access to the penthouse from the elevator. He dropped her hand as she stepped before him into the elevator. She moved to the back of the elevator and leaned against the gold handrail as he inserted his keycard into the security panel for the penthouse.

When the doors slid shut, he turned and stared into her eyes with such intensity, she was forced to look away. In one step he was to her, and in the next instant, he had her pressed between him and the elevator wall. As if unable to stop himself, he pressed his lips against hers and forced her lips opened with his. He slid his tongue over hers, causing her to cling to his rock-hard arms for support. He cradled her face within his strong hands and kissed her until she struggled to breathe. He urgently ran his hands over her shoulders to her back and pressed her closer to his body. She could feel the evidence of his arousal against her belly and trembled in nervous anticipation, not knowing what to expect.

The elevator doors opened up and he slowly eased his lips from hers. As if he hated to break the contact, he stepped slowly away from her. He trailed his hands down until he clasped both of her hands within his own. He stared once again into her face and began to step backward, leading her out of the elevator. Once she became aware of something other than him, she gasped. One entire wall of the suite was made up of walled glass. The view of the city lights was spectacular.

The condo was painted a soft taupe color and accented with rich deep woods. A two-sided fireplace separated the living room from the kitchen. A burning fire was the only light aside from two lit tapered candles on the small intimate dining table. She thought how different this warm room was compared to the cold, formal room of her father's.

She lifted her eyes back to his and he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against her lips.

"Welcome. Can I take your wrap?" he asked.

She swallowed hard and nodded.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

Hesitantly, she shook her head.

"Would you like a glass of wine? I have a nice selection of local wines."

"That would be nice," she replied softly.

"Why don't you make yourself comfortable on the couch, and I'll get us a bottle."

"Okay," she murmured.

She set her purse down on a side table as he draped her wrap over the back of one of the dining room chairs, keeping her eye until the kitchen wall blocked her from his view. She crossed the room, taking in the rich leather furniture, the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace, and the jewel-toned accessories strategically placed on bookcases.

She sat on the couch's edge and once again ran her hands nervously over her thighs. She straightened when Rush entered carrying two glasses of pale, golden wine.

She cleared her throat. "You have a lovely home," she said.

He handed her the wine. "Thanks." He sat next to her and leaned his side into the back of the couch with one leg bent on the couch between them. He casually laid one arm across the back of the couch so that he was facing her fully.

He stared at her for a long moment, his eyebrows bunched as if he were trying to decide something. He lifted his glass to hers. As the glasses clinked together, he said, "I'm glad you're here."

"Me, too," she replied quietly. Keeping her eyes on his, she lifted the glass to her lips. The wine was crisp, but sweet. She licked the residue from her lips nervously, and he watched her actions closely. The dim light in the room made the atmosphere between them seem much more intimate.

He lifted his glass and took a speculative sip. "So, tell me about your father, the Judge," he said.

She blinked her surprise at the question, as it wasn't what she was expecting. She sat back a little further and turned her shoulder into the back of the couch so she faced him as well.

"What do you want to know?" she asked.

"Are you close?"

"Of course. Since my mother was killed, it's just been he and I. While he can be a tad overprotective, I know he loves me."

"Was it him calling you last night?"

She inhaled deeply and looked down at her glass. Guilt was beginning to creep into her being. Guilt at leaving her father, who'd just been shot and lying in a hospital. Guilt for the angry words she'd spewed at him. Guilt for being here when her father needed her. A gentle hand on her shoulder had her lifting her gaze back to his.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked.

"I just realized how terribly selfish I am."

He chuckled. "I doubt that. How are you being terribly selfish?"

She gave a wry twist of her lips and looked back down at her wine. "The day before yesterday, my father..." she hesitated, not wanting to go into detail, "...was hurt. He's in the hospital right now."

She glanced up to see his eyebrows arched at her. "And... you hurt him?" he smirked.

She gave a small laugh. "No. But I should be home helping him instead of here. He just made me so mad with his control-freakery."

"Control-freakery?" he asked.

"For whatever reason, my father feels he should control every aspect of my life. On one hand I get it – he lost my mother in a tragic way and he doesn't want anything to happen to me. But he just takes things to such extremes. He had my phone tracked, for goodness sakes."

He contemplated her as he sipped his wine. "Hence the violence you unleashed on the despicable device."

"Exactly."

"Is your father alone?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No, he has a bodyguard with him all the time, and Ms. Gibbons, our housekeeper."

"Is he going to be okay?" he asked.

"Yes, I think so. He'll probably be home in a day or two."

"It sounds as if he can take care of himself," he said. "Don't beat yourself up."

"I'm angry at myself because I told him to stop treating me like a child, and yet, that's exactly how I acted."

"Sometimes it takes a drastic action to get someone's attention," he murmured as he lifted his wineglass to his lips.

She sighed. "Well, I certainly did that. I just did it in the wrong way. He's been through a lot and has enough to worry about without adding me into the mix. I've never defied him like this."

Rush leaned forward and grabbed ahold of her hand. "You're being way too hard on yourself." He studied her for a long time. "Can I ask you something personal?" At her nod, he continued. "Do you remember anything about when you and your mom were abducted?"

She blinked, once again surprised at the question. "Umm... yes," she answered softly.

He stared at her intently as he ran his thumb over the knuckles of her hand. "What do you remember?" he asked just as softly.

She watched the wine in her glass as she swirled it round and round. "I was pretty young, almost ten. My mom and I had gone to the movies. I'd begged her for weeks to see the Lion King." She bit off a bitter laugh. "I wish everyday, I'd never even heard of the Lion King. We were on our way home when a car ran us off the road. I remember my mother's hands were trembling so much she dropped her cellphone on the floorboard of the car. When she leaned over to get it, a man in a black ski-mask broke out her window." Trinity shivered from a cold that had risen from deep within. "Two other guys in similar ski-masks opened the door and snatched my mother out. She screamed so loud it hurt my ears. One of them punched her so hard in the side of her head that she never woke up. Just like that... she was gone..." she trailed off as memories of the past invaded her. She cleared her throat before continuing. "After they snatched me out of the car, they blindfolded me and shoved me into the backseat of another car. I don't know how long we drove, but eventually I was led into a small room. The only thing in the room was a wooden chair, which had been bolted to the floor. They tied me to the chair and left me there. I remember being so scared. There were no windows in the room and it was so dark. I didn't realize my mother had been killed at that point, so I kept waiting for her to come and save me... but she never did."

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

She blinked up at him, almost forgetting where she was. Shifting uncomfortably, she said, "As you said... it was a long time ago."

Leaning forward, he set his wineglass on the glass table in front of the couch. He picked up a remote and clicked a button. Suddenly, music began playing softly from speakers hidden around the room. He rose and extended a hand to her. "Dance with me," he commanded in soft tones.

With a small shake of her head to ward off the bad memories, she placed her hand in his and he pulled her up until their bodies were touching. He gave her an opportunity to set her glass down before tugging her into the middle of the room. He captured her hands with his and slid them up behind his neck before he moved his hands down to her waist. Her heart began to thud in her chest and visions of the past slowly faded away.

In slow, easy movements, he moved them in small circles in time to the music. He moved one hand to her hip and the other slid up to cup the back of her neck. Holding her steady, he gently forced her head back with his thumb against her jaw. He lowered his lips and placed soft kisses down the column of her neck. She inhaled sharply at the touch of his lips against her skin.

"You have the softest skin," he murmured.

He raised his head to stare into her eyes, drawing her under his spell. She moved a trembling hand to run it against his ruggedly beautiful face – a face that could make angels weep. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. When she ran her finger across his lips, he nipped it gently before sucking the fingertip into his mouth. She gasped at the sensation.

Leaning down, he captured her lips with his own. With a minimal amount of pressure, he forced her mouth open to allow him access. With deliberately slow, soft touches, he explored her mouth. She ran her hands down his chest and encircled his waist. He placed her face within his hands and deepened the kiss. The silky slide of his tongue against hers made her strain up into the kiss. She gasped when he nipped her bottom lip gently. Fire began to burn in her belly as his aggression grew.

Abruptly, and with his chest heaving, he pulled his lips from hers and brushed them against her temple. She felt the column of his neck move as he swallowed hard. Stepping back from her, he caught one of her hands with his and slowly turned, moved quickly to the dining room table, and extinguished the candles. Slowly, he began to walk out of the room and down a hall. Her heart began to pound when he led her into the master suite. She had only an instant to glimpse the blue glow in the room which was lit by a massive fish tank. The backlight of the tank caused shadows of waves to be reflected against three of the four walls. Like the living room, the fourth wall was glass. The overall effect was surreal and sensual.

He led her to the bed and sat down on the edge and pulled her to stand between his thighs. She placed her hands on his shoulders.

"I want you," he murmured.

Instead of replying, she leaned forward and touched her lips lightly to his.

After the brief contact and while maintaining eye contact, he slowly lowered his hands to curve over her bottom to the end of her short dress. Sensually, he ran his hands slowly up the bare skin of the back of her thighs until he touched the edge of black panties. She gasped at the sensation. With deliberate slowness he ran his hands down her legs and helped to remove her shoes. Being out of her shoes put her closer to his level. Running his arms around her, he unhurriedly unzipped her dress. Reaching up, he tugged at the halter tie at the back of her neck. Sinfully, the silky material of the dress swirled around her body, falling to the floor.

Slowly, he lowered his gaze to follow the curve of her body: her breasts, her trim waist, and then lower still. She trembled beneath his hands. He moved his eyes back to hers as he ran his hands once more over her bared back and panty-covered bottom. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the soft skin above her belly.

He pulled her gently onto his chest as he fell back on the bed. He rolled her until she was underneath him. The sensation of the cool bedding compared to the scorching heat he radiated made her groan. He brushed her long hair out of her face and gently traced the angles of her face.

"So very beautiful," he whispered.

He pressed kisses behind her ear and then down her neck. He ran his hands lightly over her breasts, causing her to arch her back at the intimate contact. His lips followed the path his hands had blazed. With soft, sensuous licks, he kissed each breast. The fire in her belly which had begun as a small flickering flame was becoming a blazing inferno. She grabbed his head and held it tight against her. She groaned at the sensation of his soft, firm lips against her skin. Each suck and pull of his lips against her breasts caused ripples of fire-hot desire to zip through her body – starting from where his lips were, down to her very core.

As he kissed and nipped her breasts, he rubbed his erection over and over against her. Even through his jeans and her panties, she could feel the hard length of him and she shivered in need. Moving from her, he lay beside her and slowly slid her panties down and off. She trembled with a variety of emotions as his hand glided over her taunt stomach down to stroke her intimately, causing her once more to arch off the bed. He moved his lips back up the column of her neck and plunged his tongue into her mouth as she moaned and writhed under his expert touch.

He lifted his lips from hers and asked raggedly, "Are you on birth control?"

She stilled and gave a small shake of her head.

"It's okay, I've got condoms here."

Rising quickly, he stepped to a side-table, slid a drawer open, and withdrew a packaged condom from a box. He moved back to the foot of the bed and began to strip his clothes off in the bluish glow of the room. He raked her body with his eyes as he snatched off his clothes. His body was magnificent. His shoulders were broad and his chest and stomach muscles were finely chiseled and well-defined. She couldn't believe this gorgeous man wanted her. He placed the condom package between his teeth and slowly tore it open. His eyes were nearly black with desire and his stare promised her salvation from the intense yearning filling her body. With practiced ease, he applied the condom and climbed over her, settling between her thighs. Her heart began to pound. This was really happening. She swallowed against the nerves which threatened to overtake her.

He caught her hands within his and raised them up above her head. As he positioned his body against her, he leaned down and kissed her lips tenderly. "I hope you're as ready for me as I am for you," he groaned. Her breathing was laborious and her heart thudded almost painfully against her ribs.

She swallowed hard when she felt him pressed intimately against her. Even though it felt as if fire were being forced through her veins, a small fission of fear began to thread its way through her. She pulled her hands loose from his, captured his face, and pushed it gently away from her own. Breathing heavy, she whispered, "Rush, I've never been... done... this before."

His body stilled and he stiffened immediately. Slowly, he opened his eyes to gaze down at her with his jaw clenched. "You're a virgin?" he asked incredulously.

She swallowed against the near accusation. "Yes."

His chest was heaving as he struggled to rein in his lust. He swore softly.

Not liking the distance now between them, she withered and whimpered beneath him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and tried to bridge the distance between their bodies. "Please," she begged. "I don't want you to stop, I just wanted you to know," she explained.

He leaned his forehead against hers for a moment. Seeming to reach a decision, he eased himself off of her. "I'm sorry, but I can't." He turned and sat once more on the edge of the bed, his back to her, as he ran brutal hands through his hair.

Want, need, frustration, longing, and unbelievable hurt flooded her. Embarrassment came in as a close second to her other emotions. She sat up and drew her knees up to help cover her nakedness. "I don't understand," she whispered.

Taking a deep breath as he panted to regain his equilibrium, he said, "I... I just can't do this. In a dead voice, he said, "Please get dressed and I'll take you back." He rose as he spoke and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Shame and embarrassment flooded her. She scrambled off the bed, and while keeping an eye on the bathroom door, she snatched up Sundra's dress and shoes. She searched frantically for her panties. Not finding them right away, she turned a panicked eye to the bathroom door and decided to just forget them. Struggling to hold back tears of mortification, she stumbled into the doorframe and into the hall. She snatched her clutch purse off the side table and with hands that trembled she pushed the elevator call button. She scrambled into the dress and was tying it at her neck when the door pinged opened. She fell through the doors as they opened. With frantic hands, she hit all the elevator buttons, praying the doors would hurry and close. She leaned back against the gold handrail just as she had done earlier in the night. Her breath caught in her throat as she caught a glimpse of a panicked, near naked Rush, as the doors slid blessedly closed.

Because of the way she'd hit the buttons, the elevator stopped at every floor. She hurried out the elevator doors into the lobby. Shame colored her cheeks as she walked out carrying her shoes. She could only imagine how she looked. She avoided direct eye-contact with anyone she passed, humiliated at her obvious walk of shame. She raised a hand to smooth her hair back into place and strove to regain some control. She shivered against the cold when she stepped out into the late night air and thought briefly of Sundra's wrap lying across the chair upstairs. She walked quickly back down the sidewalk that she'd previously walked on happily just hours before.

She stopped trying to rein in the tears. Her chest burned with hurt from his rejection. More than anything, she wished she would have not stopped him... not told him. She entered the lobby of her own building and stood with her head bowed at the elevator doors, praying they'd open quickly.

She gasped when a hand whirled her around. An angry Rush Drayton stood before her.

"What the hell are you doing?"

A sob broke free from her lips, further cementing her shame. With an oath, he gathered her against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. "Don't... just don't," he whispered against her hair.

"Please let me go," she begged as she struggled to contain her scattered emotions.

The elevator doors pinged their opening. He ushered her into the car. "Which floor?" he murmured.

She shook her head. "Please just go," she sobbed.

"Which floor?" he demanded between clenched teeth.

"Ninth," she uttered as tears streaked unheeded across her cheeks.

It seemed to take forever to reach the ninth floor. He led her out and stopped.

"Which condo?" he asked gruffly.

Trying to shake off his arms, she cried, "Please just go. You've done your gentlemanly duty. You can certainly sleep well tonight."

With a deep sigh, he murmured, "I promise you'll thank me later."

She struggled to gain control of her emotions. She panted against the pain of his presence. With more calm than she felt, she said quietly, "I'd appreciate it if you'd just go."

He tensed next to her. After several long, agonizing moments, he released her arm and turned back to the bank of elevators. With her head bowed, she moved steadfastly down the hall until she reached the condo. She was happy to step into the empty condo. She untied the dress as she walked. Numbly, she dropped the shoes and let the dress fall. She turned on the shower as hot as she could stand it and sank down to the shower floor. No matter how long she sat under the scorching water, it never could penetrate the deep cold within her.

She feigned sleep when Sundra came stumbling in later. As she lay dried-eyed, she wished more than anything she'd stayed home. Maybe she did actually need her father's protection after all.
Chapter 4

It was noon before Sundra and her friends rousted themselves out of their beds. Sundra stumbled into the kitchen in dire need of coffee. Trinity was curled up in one of the padded barstools, nursing her own cup. In the other bedroom, she could hear the other girls laughing and jumping around. Had she ever been that carefree? No, her father would never have allowed such exuberance.

Sundra grabbed a cup from the cabinet and filled it with steaming coffee. As she stirred in the pre-sweetened creamer, she grinned up at Trinity.

"So? How was your dream date yesterday?"

Trinity gave her a tight smile. There was no way in hell she was ever going to admit to anyone what had truly happened. "It was okay, I guess."

"Okay? Seriously? I mean, the man is a god!"

Trinity cringed at the description, which so closely matched her own assessment.

"So? Are you going to see him again?" Sundra asked.

With a shrug of her shoulders, Trinity said, "No, I don't think so."

Sundra banged her cup down on the counter. "Why ever not?"

"We... we were just not compatible. You know how it is sometimes," she mumbled.

Sundra stared at her for a long moment. "Not compatible, huh? No... I don't believe that for a second. I saw how he looked at you at the club. The man was seriously crushing on you."

Trinity gave mirthful laugh. "Crushing? I don't think so. But anyway... it doesn't matter. I don't want to see him. There're lots of guys out there, right?"

"Not like him... not like him. Wait. He didn't do anything freaky or anything, did he?"

"Freaky?" Trinity asked.

"You know... tie you up, beat you. That kind of thing."

Trinity glanced down at her coffee. "No, nothing like that."

An extended silence had Trinity lifting her gaze back up.

"Did you have sex with him?" Sundra asked incredulously.

Trinity blushed. "No. Of course not. I barely know the man," she muttered.

"That was a terrible mistake, my friend. Men like Rush Drayton don't come along very often. It's probably better anyway. From what I could see, he'd be a hard act to follow. You'd only be disappointed in the next guy... there will be a next guy, right?" Sundra said with a grin.

A next guy? Trinity didn't know if she could take rejection like she'd had the night before again. Rush had seemed to want her, but he'd just as easily called a halt to things. Was her virginity that big a deal? Would the next guy be the same way?

"If the right one comes along," Trinity finally answered.

"Well, we'll have to be on the lookout for him tonight," Sundra replied.

"Tonight?" Trinity asked.

"Yep. Hunter's taking us to the Ski Village. It's supposed to be the hottest club around."

"I... don't know," Trinity said hesitantly.

"Don't even think about it. You are so going!"

Trinity exhaled and lowered her gaze to her coffee cup. "What's wrong with me, Sun?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Trinity said, "Nothing. I just don't know if it'd even be worth going out tonight or not. I'm not feeling much in the partying mood."

"All the more reason to come out with us tonight. It'll be fun."

Trinity bit the inside of her lip and traced the rim of her cup. "I borrowed your cellphone and called Andy Nelson this morning."

Sundra snorted. "So, what did the jerk have to say for himself?"

Still gazing at her cup, Trinity said, "The real reason I left Savannah was I found out my father had been having me followed. I found folders of all the guys I've dated since high school, including Andy Nelson. At the bottom of the files was the word 'Eliminated'. I wanted to know what that meant."

"What did he say?" Sundra asked.

"Andy didn't want to tell me at first. I think he was frightened. But eventually he told me my father threatened if he continued to see me, he would ruin him. He would dig deep and find something to use against him... even if he had to manufacture it." Trinity swallowed and wiped a hand against the tears on her face. "I was so mortified. My father has been doing this my whole life. Why wouldn't he want me to find someone to be happy with? What is wrong with him?"

Sundra came around the bar and wrapped her arms around her. "I don't know. Maybe what happened to your mother affected him that way. How creepy! I'm so sorry. All the more reason for you to stay. Don't give in to him, Trin."

"I won't," she murmured.

* *

Somehow Sundra convinced Trinity to allow her to 'glam' her up for their night on the town. The slinky green miniscule dress barely covered her bottom – or her top, for that matter – and the impossibly high-heeled shoes made her legs seem to go on forever. Sundra had put hot rollers in her hair, causing it to cascade over her shoulders in soft curls. She'd also used a heavy hand with the make-up, as well. Looking into the mirror, Trinity had to admit, she looked sexy and wanton. It gave her the boast she needed after what she'd dubbed 'the Rush experience'. She barely recognized the woman staring back at her with her smoky, nearly black eyes, and sultry red lips.

Trinity felt further validated when she and the rest of the girls stepped out of the elevator into the lobby and she got a low whistle from Hunter.

"Wow, girl! You look... there are no words," he said with a grin.

Sundra grabbed his arm and laughed. "Come on, horn-dog, don't forget which girl you're here with."

"As if I ever could," he said as he wrapped his arm around Sundra and pressed his lips against her temple.

Sundra grinned and linked her arm through Hunter's.

Hunter looked at Trinity and asked, "Is this the group or are we waiting for a special someone?"

She flinched a little at his words. He obviously wasn't aware what had happened the night before... or didn't happen, as was the case.

She swallowed before replying. "Nope. Just us."

Sundra jumped when her cellphone rang out. She dug it out of her purse and looked curiously at the screen. "Hello," she answered cautiously, obviously not knowing the caller. "Yes, this is she. Oh, hi. Yes, of course. Hang on a second."

Turning to Trinity, she passed her the phone. "It's your dad," she mouthed, rolling her eyes.

Trinity groaned and took the phone. She stepped away from the group for the ensuing bashing she knew was coming. She took a deep breath and answered. "Hello, Dad."

"Trinity. Oh thank God! I've been so worried," he said in a rush.

"How are you?"

"Worried sick, that's how I am. You need to be home. I want you to catch the next flight. There's one leaving in three hours. I expect you to be on that flight. I'll have one of Alex's team meet you at the airport."

She closed her eyes in frustration. "No. I have a flight already scheduled for the end of the week. I'll be returning then."

"Young lady, you will do as you are told. Do I make myself clear?"

Anger boiled up inside her. He still treated her like a child. "Oh, you're clear, alright. Let me be equally clear. I will not be coming home tonight. I'll be home as scheduled. When I get home, you and I will sit down and get some things straight. I'm on my way out right now. So, I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Dad." With trembling fingers, she clicked the phone off without giving him an opportunity to respond. Exhaling deeply, she turned and moved back to the group.

"Everything okay?" Sundra asked.

Trinity forced a smile on her lips. "Yes, great. You might need to leave your phone off, though. I'm sure he'll be calling back."

Sundra grinned, powered her phone off, and slipped it back into her purse.

The Ski Village was a trendy nightclub with pulsating, lighted squares on the dance floor and multicolored light ropes surrounding the room. The lights seemed to swirl and pulse with the music. It seemed Hunter and Sundra were making it their business to ensure Trinity enjoyed herself. There was always a fresh drink in her hand and a steady stream of guys to dance with.

They'd been at the Ski Village for about several hours when Trinity was approached by an incredibly attractive olive-skinned man who asked her dance. His dark hair was longer than conventional and his dark eyes were piercing. It was obvious he'd had several drinks as his manner was aggressive, demanding, and a little frightening. She'd already begun to shake her head to decline the man's request when her heart fell down into her stomach. Standing at the bar, leaning with his back against it, just as he had on her first night in Vail, was Rush Drayton. He was watching her intently with a drink in his hand. His lips were drawn into grim lines.

She inhaled sharply. Pain, raw and vicious, ripped through her chest. Humilation burned a trail up her body. The need to vindicate herself – the need to feel wanted when suddenly she felt very much unwanted – had her putting her hand in the extended one of the olive-skinned man.

She stood and the man eyed her skimpy attire with wolfish delight. Because of the loud music, he was forced to lean in and said in her ear, "I'm Shay."

She leaned back to get a little personal space and stumbled in the high heels. Shay grabbed her hips to steady her, which only caused her dress to rise even more indecently. She placed her hands on his shoulders to help gain her balance. As she glanced up, she saw Rush stand straighter and glare at her. Hurt, frustration, and resentment made her mouth tighten. She glanced quickly away before stepping away from Shay. She bent and grabbed a drink from the table and slammed it quickly. Her stomach churned against the burn of the vodka in the cosmopolitan. Turning back to Shay, she grabbed his hand and led him out onto the dance floor with its pulsating lights and music.

She danced mindlessly with Shay through a couple songs. His eyes raked her body as they moved in time to the music. Her initial pique faded and Shay was beginning to make her extremely uncomfortable. She'd decided to make her break from him at the end of the current song. When the beat changed, however, he grabbed her hips and pulled her close to him. He slid his hands up her back and gyrated his hips intimately against her. She struggled to step back, but he just tightened his hold on her. When she looked up to warn him off, he leaned down and plunged his tongue between her parted lips. She lifted her hands to his chest and tried to shove against him, but again he just tightened his grip. Panic had her clawing against him.

Suddenly, Shay was snatched away from her and slung across the floor. A raging Rush stood between her and Shay. Shay struggled to his feet and charged, but Rush had size and rage on his side. Rush ended the fight with an uppercut to Shay's jaw. Shay went flying onto his back and slid unconscious across the floor.

With his chest heaving, Rush turned back to Trinity. She stood with a hand pressed against her mouth and eyes wide. Her legs began to tremble as the adrenaline of Shay's assault and Rush's force of violence passed. She took a step to turn away but Rush caught her and lifted her into his arms. With his jaw clenched tight, he moved through the crowd. Once the initial shock of being this close to him faded, Trinity began to squirm in his arms.

"Put me down, Rush! Please put me down," she begged.

"Be quiet," he commanded in a no-nonsense tone.

Embarrassment at being manhandled caused color to rush into her face. He walked past the bar and entered in through a door marked Office. There was a brown leather couch against one wall and a glass desk against the other. Rush set her down on the couch before turning to the desk. There was a young man sitting at the desk in a hip grey suit, with a thin, black tie. His blond hair was held back at the nap of his neck. He stood immediately at Rush's entrance.

"Mr. Drayton. Good evening, sir. I didn't know you were in town."

"Mark, there is a situation on the floor I need you to take of. There's a gentleman passed out on the dance floor. I need him removed. I do not want him back. Is that understood?"

The thin, blond man named Mark murmured, "Of course, sir. I'll take care of it right away, sir."

Mark gave Trinity a curious glance before slipping out the door. Rush stood for a moment still facing the desk, inhaling deeply. Moving to the door, he slipped the bolt into place before turning to walk slowly to the couch. He sat down heavily next to her. Leaning forward, he rested his forearms on his knees with his hands folded together. Eventually, he turned his head to rake his eyes over her face.

"Are you okay?" he asked finally.

Her heart was pounding from being in such close proximity to the powerful force which was Rush Drayton.

She swallowed hard and strove to calm her scattered senses. "I could have handled it by myself," she murmured as she lowered her gaze and tried to tug the hem of her dress further down her thighs.

She risked a glance at him to find him staring at the expanse of bare skin exposed by the short dress. He ran a hand through his short hair roughly.

"I saw how you were handling it."

Her stomach muscles hurt from clenching so hard at having to sit next to him. Wanting to hurt him in some way, she said, "Maybe I didn't want saving. Ever think of that?"

Through clenched teeth, he asked, "What does that mean?"

With nervous fingers, she smoothed her palms over her thighs again. Studying the floor intently, she replied, "Just because you didn't want me..." she trailed off, hurt permeating her being.

"Not want you?" he bit off as he scrubbed a hand over his face. "Is that what you think?"

She swallowed again and simply shrugged her shoulders. "It's fine, really." She stood, her chest heaving, needing to get away from him. "I should be getting back," she murmured.

He ran his eyes up the length of her minuscule dress to the top of her wavy hair. He rose smoothly to his feet like a prowling panther who'd been dormant. He moved so swiftly towards her, she was barely aware he'd moved. He pressed her up against the wall and ran his hands over the sides of her breasts, past her waist, to her hips. Without his usual smoothness, he placed his lips over hers and kissed her roughly. He ran his hands up the back of her legs underneath her dress. She gasped, as the fire he had kindled the night before came flaming back. She ran her hands over his face and into his short hair, holding him tight to her.

He grabbed her bottom within his hands and clutched her tight to his body. Even through their clothing she could feel his erection pressing against her.

"Not want you? Does that feel like I don't want you? I've just about lost my damn mind with wanting you," he rasped against her lips.

She whimpered and pressed herself even harder against his body. His words lit her up and made her needy. She ached in places that as of yet had not been explored. She ran her hands over his massive shoulders around to his back, kneading his muscles as his body strained against hers. In one quick movement, he had her lying on her back against the soft, brown leather of the couch.

Urgently, he ran his hands under the slinky material of the green dress, pushing it up and over her head and then he cupped her breasts within his hands as he ground his straining erection against her. He removed his lips from hers and licked the tip of one breast into his mouth as he rolled the other beneath his fingers.

She began to whimper, "Please, please," begging for relief from the building urgency within her, afraid he'd stop once again.

While continuing to lap his tongue against the sensitive tip of her breast, he slid one hand down over her quivering thigh. His fingers sent shafts of delicious tingles running up her oversensitive nerve endings. She arched at the sensation and need as never before exploded within her. With one quick snap, he tore her panties away. He eased his fingers into her and she cried out against all the riotous sensations erupting in her body. He leaned up from her and quickly tore his shirt off. He grabbed a condom from his pocket, unfastened his pants, and kicked them to the floor. He moved back over her, set his firm lips back on hers, grabbed her hips within his hands, and tilted her hips at just the angle he wanted. With one quick thrust he was inside.

"Oh, God," he groaned.

A sharp burst of pain had her gasping and her body tensed. He stilled for just an instant before lifting and plunging back into her slick body. This time there was no pain, only a pleasant fullness. His plunges seemed to stoke the fire within her body and as he moved in and out rhythmically, panic began to build. The sensation was just too much. She wouldn't be able to endure it.

She groaned and arched her back to meet his thrusts. As he continued to thrust his tongue into her mouth and slid his body into hers, she ran her hands along the hard, sinewy muscles of his shoulders where a fine misting of sweat had gathered. She wrapped her legs around him and felt the bunch and release of his muscles against the backs of her calves.

Desire burned a trail through her bloodstream. She clawed him with her nails as she became mindless in her need.

She whimpered against his lips. "I need... Please... I don't think I can..."

Spurred on by her words and her touch, he began to plunge deeper, harder, and faster within her.

"Oh, baby. You feel so good," he said as he ran his hands down her body. "Don't you feel it? Feel it taking over? Go with it, baby, just go with it," he encouraged in between kisses to her face and neck.

She tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled his head down to hers. As he kissed her passionately, she began to writhe beneath him and buck her hips to meet his. Her breathing was shallow and rapid. She felt lightheaded and on fire. Her entire body was singing and pulled taunt. As the next wave of desire threatened to pull her under, she cried out and clawed at his body, begging for relief from the concentrated power he had over her body.

"Come on, baby. Go with it, don't fight it," he murmured from the crook of her neck as he increased his plunges into her.

"Yes, yes, yes!" she cried as finally she was able to capture the wave and ride it out into the calming waters of sensual bliss.

Once she'd been pushed over the edge, Rush began to concentration on catching his own. With renewed effort, he plunged again and again into the soft, slick folds of her body until finally he secured his own release, and with a strangled oath, he collapsed on top of her, struggling to catch his breath. He shifted them onto their sides as he continued to pant. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against his chest. He placed kisses against her head as he soothed them to the present.

"Wow... just wow," he panted. Once he was able to catch his breath, he rose back over her. "Are you okay," he asked as he smoothed the hair from her face.

She nodded as awareness of her surroundings slowly returned.

She rubbed her hands up and down his back and shoulders slowly. She cringed when she felt the raised welts from her nails on his skin.

He chuckled in the crook of her neck. "No worries. War wounds," he assured her.

He glanced around the room. "We need to get dressed. Mark will be back any minute."

She blushed at the thought that Mark would know what they'd done in his office. "Do you do this kind of thing often in Mark's office?"

"Technically, it's my office and my club. But no, I don't normally have sex on the couch in an office." He cupped her cheek in his palm. "You just drive me so damned crazy!" he muttered, before pressing his lips against hers. "When are you going back to Savannah?" he asked.

"At the end of the week."

"Stay with me tonight," he murmured against her lips.

She ran her fingertips across his forehead, brushing the hair out of his eyes as she contemplated him. His face was so beautiful it took her breath away. "Okay."

They rose and she blushed when she found her destroyed panties. Rush shoved them into his front pants pocket. "You'll definitely have to walk in front of me. I don't want anyone else seeing that delectable bottom of yours," he said, as he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her quickly before directing her to a bathroom inside the office.

She dressed quickly and tried to restore some order to her appearance. She swallowed at the emotions which surged through her body at the memories of his touch on her body. Of looking up into his beautiful face as he loomed over her, plunging again and again into her body. A tap on the door made her jump and she quickly opened the door.

"Everything okay?" he asked, concern evident in his eyes as he brushed his knuckle over her cheekbone.

His tenderness made her eyes glassy and she had to blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay.

She cleared her throat. "My purse and coat is at the table."

"No problem. You wait here. I'll catch Mark, grab your things, and let Hunter know what's going on. Okay?"

"Okay," she murmured, as she leaned into his hand.

* *

Rush was pensive as he drove them back to his condo at Dragon Towers II. The longer they sat, the further he seemed to distance himself from her. She shivered against the cold. Her mind whirled, trying to understand the complex man sitting beside. She slid her glaze over him as he sat with one hand on the steering wheel, his elbow propped up on the door, and one hand pressed against the side of his face. He seemed... grim. His mood was so inconsistent with the man who'd literally thrown her down on the couch and had hot, impetuous sex with her just minutes before.

With nervous fingers, she played with the belt of her coat. The longer she sat, the more emotionally exposed she felt. "Rush, why don't you just take me back to Sundra's condo?"

He flicked a glance over at her before looking back at the road. "Why would I do that?"

Feeling out of her element and vulnerable, she shrugged her shoulders, and turned her gaze to stare out her window.

He reached over a hand and placed it over the both of hers. "Hey, I'm sorry. I've just got a lot on my mind. I want you to stay."

He pulled his hand away when his phone rang. Clicking the Bluetooth option of his phone, he answered, "Drayton."

He glanced at her quickly as he answered. "Hi, Boppa. I'm good... No, not exactly... Yes, as planned... I'm not entirely sure... I don't know... maybe a couple more weeks... Yes, sir... I'll try..." Rush ran a hand over his face wearily. "I know, Boppa... As soon as I can... Of course... Love you, too... Soon, I promise... Bye." He clicked off his phone and stared out the windshield even more pensive, and sighed heavily. He turned his gaze to hers and gave her a small smile which did nothing to relieve her anxiety.

He maintained his distance, even when he assisted her from the car. Placing a hand against the small of her back, he led her into the elevator. He slipped his card into the penthouse slot and the doors slid smoothly closed. She fidgeted as her discomfort grew. Idly, he flexed his fingers against the material of the coat covering her back and she shivered at his touch. This action seemed to gain his attention. He moved to stand behind her and wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her with his warmth. He nuzzled his face in the curve of her neck and placed light kisses there. She closed her eyes and tilted her head to provide greater access.

Slowly, he turned her in his arms and tilted her face up with gentle fingers. She closed her eyes as he pressed his lips gently against hers. "I'm glad you came," he murmured softly.

"Are you?" she murmured, just as softly.

"Absolutely," he said as the elevator doors pinged. He walked her backwards. Once inside the condo, he captured her face within his hands. He stared intently down into her eyes. Sadness seemed to cross his features before he once more pressed his lips against hers.

"Do you want something to drink? Something to eat?" At the shake of her head, he smiled the first genuine smile since leaving the office. "Good! Then I say it's time for bath and bed. What do you say?"

She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her face against his chest. "Sounds good."

* *

It was still dark when she reached a hand over to find the bed empty. Trinity leaned up on her elbows and looked around the bedroom, backlit with the bluish glow of the fish tank. She saw Rush standing, leaning against the windowsill, staring out into the clear, starry night. He was dressed only in a pair of cotton shorts. Her eyes raked over his well-chiseled body. How did she ever attract such a man as this?

As it had been in the car, his expression was pensive. She wondered what weighed on his mind so much to cause him so much pain. She was amazed again at the extreme difference between the cold man at the window and the man who'd been scorching hot in both the tub and then later in the bed. Her body ached in places she hadn't even known she possessed.

Not able to bear his desolation any longer, she rose from the bed silently and stepped up behind him, wrapping her naked form against his back. He stiffened momentarily before turning to tug her around to wrap her in his arms, close to his chest. He leaned his head against hers and kissed her head softly. He stroked his hands up and down her back, striving to impart some warmth.

"You're cold," he said quietly.

Placing a kiss against his muscular chest, she whispered, "Come warm me up."

She felt him grin against her hair. "What have I created?"

"Insatiable lust," she murmured as she ran the tip of tongue against his salty skin.

He stared down into her face as he smoothed her hair. "Insatiable, huh?" he murmured.

"Yep," she replied.

His smile faded. "I... I didn't expect it to be like this," he said almost to himself as he traced the bones of her face with his fingertip.

"Me either," she whispered.

"I don't know what to do," he murmured almost desperately.

She gave a small shake of her head. "I don't understand."

Cupping her face within his palms, he pressed his lips against hers softly, and walked her slowly backward to the bed. He followed her down, catching his weight on his elbow. "Insatiable," he grinned again. "Be gentle with me," he quipped as he intertwined their fingers and lifted her hands up above her head as he lowered his lips once again to hers.

Trinity spent the entirety of her trip with Rush. He took her sightseeing during the day and made slow, luscious love to her every night. He worshiped her body with his own. And for the most part, it was the perfect beginning to a beautiful romance. But sometimes she'd catch him staring off, lost in whatever demon-filled world his mind went to. His demons scared her.

He'd insisted on driving her to the airport. She'd tried to veto this decision, but Rush Drayton wasn't a man easily dissuaded. He held her hand as he drove. She lightly traced the veins in his strong hand. She would miss being with him like this – it was like they were in their own little bubble. She raised their joined hands to press a soft kiss to his.

"I have some business to take care of in Vail, but I'd like to see you when I return to Savannah at the end of next week," he said.

"I'd like that," she murmured. She tried to push away the thought of how her father would feel about that.

His lips twitched. "You won't try to be insatiable with anyone else, will you?"

"It'll be a struggle, but I'll try to keep it reined in," she teased.

His responding smile devastated her by its sheer beauty... as did its fade into the now-familiar somberness. She stared out the window at the passing scenery for several long minutes before plucking up the courage to ask once again, "Rush, what's wrong?"

He gave her a soft smile and pressed a kiss to her hand. "Nothing."

She stared at his handsome face for a long time and wondered why he would lie to her.

He walked her as close to her gate as security would allow and stood with her until the last possible moment. He pulled her into his arms and held her close with his head rested against hers for such a long time.

"I wish it could always be like this," he murmured against her hair.

"Why can't it be?" she asked, her heart nearly breaking at the sadness in his voice.

He inhaled deeply then let it out slowly. "Things change... situations change. The perfect moments always slip away, it seems."

She tilted her head to look up into his breathtaking face – with his dark hair and hazel eyes. She wasn't sure why, but she somehow knew the happiness she had right now in this moment would be destroyed the instant she left his arms. The thought made her wrap her arms tightly around him and bury her face into his chest. Her lips trembled when the last boarding call for her flight was called.

"I had a good time, thank you," she said.

He smiled down into her face and, for too brief a time, pressed his soft lips against hers. "Trust me when I say, it was entirely my pleasure. I'll see you at the end of next week. I'll call you at the gallery, okay?"

She couldn't reply as tears clogged her throat, so she just nodded her head. He hugged her tight to him once more, pressed a kiss to her temple, then turned and walked away without looking back. She wasn't sure why, but she never wanted to cry more in her life than at that moment.

Chapter 5

She wasn't surprised to see Alex Masters at her gate when she landed. He gave her a courtesy nod of his head, but otherwise didn't speak. She glared at him but didn't speak either. Silently, they walked to the black SUV. She slipped into the front seat and fastened her seatbelt. Alex did the same and rested his hands on the steering wheel and stared straight ahead for several long moments.

"Your actions were very foolhardy. You know that, don't you?" he asked quietly.

She didn't answer but leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

"Your father has been very worried."

Without opening her eyes, she snapped, "Don't talk to me about my father."

"His only concern is for your safety."

She snapped her eyes open and glared at him. "Was it you who followed me on all my dates? Did you get quite the kick out reporting back all the intimate details of my life to him?"

"Your father was only concerned..." he started again before she cut him off.

"Did he send you back to them to lay down his threats?" she hissed.

His brows bunched in confusion. "Threats? No one threatened anyone," he said.

"Was it you who wrote 'Eliminated' at the bottom of each of your investigative reports?" she continued as if she'd not heard him.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Come on, Alex! Don't act like you don't know. Wasn't that what it was all about? That way my father could continue to control my life?"

Alex sat staring at her for a long time, trying to ascertain her meaning. "All my firm was required to do was follow you to ensure your safety. We always keep an itemized list of events happening during that time so we can document the time spent on each case. We certainly didn't ever threaten anyone. And never have we written anything on a report."

"My father apparently was threatening them with life or limb if they so much as talked to me again. I'm twenty-two years old and not allowed to go on a date un-chaperoned. Don't you find that disturbing?" she asked icily.

Alex stared at her silently for a long time. With his lips set in grim lines, he turned the ignition over and they traveled the rest of the way home in silence.

It was late when they pulled into the garage. She was pulling the door lever when Alex laid a restraining hand on her arm. She flashed angry eyes at him.

Alex met her stormy eyes calmly. "No matter what your father has or has not done, doesn't negate the fact that someone is trying to kill him. Whether you want to believe it or not, you're in as much danger as your father. I would appreciate it if you'd apprise my staff of your comings and goings."

"No. Absolutely not. You and your staff will no longer follow me around. I am over eighteen years of age, as such, I am an adult. I do not require your services. If I see any of your staff following me, I will call the police and report you. Do I make myself clear?" she said through clenched teeth.

Alex Masters studied her for a long time. "Perfectly," he murmured, as he stared at her with his flinty eyes.

She opened her door and climbed out of the SUV. She took a deep breath and exhaled before opening the door which led into the kitchen. Due to the lateness of the hour, the house was relatively quiet. Trinity walked through the kitchen and dinning room. Her confusing feelings about Rush Drayton had her feeling edgy and vulnerable. Her feelings of outrage against her father's actions left her feeling molested in the worst possible way – by the person she trusted the most. She felt off-balance and somewhat lost. Her rioting emotions left her with the insatiable need to cry.

Her foot was on the first stair and her hand on the banister when she heard her father call to her weakly from his office.

"Trinity? Is that you?"

She closed her eyes briefly and swore under her breath. She wasn't prepared to deal with her father at the moment. Clearing her throat, she said, "Yes, Father."

She turned from the stairs and slowly made her way to his office. He was sitting behind his desk looking pale and frail. "How are you?" she asked quietly, as she stepped into the room.

"Better, now that you're home. What were you thinking, Trinity? If you weren't concerned about your own safety, how could you leave me when I needed you the most? I was lying in the hospital wounded, and you just take off without a word to anyone. I was so worried!" he chastised.

"You know why," she said quietly.

"Trinity, I did what I had to do in order to keep you safe," he said reasonably.

"Did that include calling the men, and even boys I dated, and threatening them?" she asked angrily.

Arthur Grace sighed deeply. "Trinity, one day when you are a parent..."

She cut his words off. "If it were up to you I wouldn't ever have the privilege of being a parent, or even dating beyond two dates. Do you know how much pain you've caused me over the years?"

"I don't look at it that way. I see it as how much pain I've saved you from," he said.

"Father, I didn't want to have this discussion right now, but I guess now is as good a time as any. I want you to quit having me followed. I want to be able to live my life, and I want your promise you won't interfere again," she said firmly.

"Trinity, there are dangers you aren't aware of. I have to be able to keep you safe the best way I know how," he replied.

She gripped the back of the chair in front of her. "Let me be clear, Father. I've already told Alex, and I'll tell you. I am an adult and don't need protection. I will not be followed, I will not be watched. If I, so much as think, you are interfering in my life in any way, I will move out. I have a job and I have my mother's inheritance. I don't have to live here. I live here because I want to, not because I have to. Don't force my hand, Father. I'm deadly serious," she said firmly and adamantly.

"You don't mean that, Trinity. Be reasonable. Someone shot through the windows of our home. Next time, we might not be so lucky."

"I'm willing to chance it. I'm deadly serious. I'm tired and I have to be up early for work. I'll see you tomorrow when I come home," she replied.

"Trinity... I don't know what's gotten into you. How can you speak to me this way? I'm your father!" he exclaimed.

"Goodnight."

Exhausted and emotionally raw, she climbed the stairs slowly and wished above all that Rush Drayton were here to help her get lost in the sexual abyss he'd exposed to her. More than anything, she didn't want to think about how topsy-turvy her life had become.

The next morning she rose early and dressed with care in a teal pantsuit. Not wanting to run into her father, she decided to skip breakfast. She called a taxi to take her to work and stayed in her room until she saw it pull up in front of the house. She really needed her own car. Her father had always vetoed the idea. Now she could see it was so he had another element of control over her. Maybe now was a good time to start looking for one.

She was tired after her mostly sleepless night. Her body hummed with the new pleasures she been exposed to and she longed again for the touch of Rush's hands running over, her taking her to the brink and then soothing her back down to the earth. Who was she kidding? She missed his touch, his kiss, his smile... she just missed him. Her chest tightened at the enormous emotion he raised in her. Was this love? She wasn't sure. If it wasn't, it was working its way towards it.

The taxi pulled up in front of the LaMont Fine Arts Gallery. She paid the driver and stepped out onto the sidewalk. When the taxi pulled away, she turned to survey the area. She didn't see anyone she thought might be following her. It looked as if Alex and her father had taken her seriously the night before.

As it was too early for the gallery to be opened, she walked around to the back entrance and started to slide her key into the lock. She was surprised to see the door open a crack. She pushed it gently with her fingers and it swung open further. The hall was dark. Up ahead, under her office door, she could make out a small sliver of light. Cautiously, she moved forward. As with the back door, her door was opened a crack as well. Inhaling deeply, she pushed the door open.

The sliver of light she'd seen from under the door was an antique, green hooded desk lamp sitting on her desk. While it illuminated her desk space, that was all she could see. She'd moved her hand up to flip the wall switch, when out of nowhere, someone rushed her. Before she understood what was happening, the person slammed her solidly with their shoulder, which in turn knocked her up against the wall. Before she had a chance to blink, the masked person grabbed both sides of her head and slammed it hard against the wall again. The pain was excruciating. She swallowed hard at the bile rising in her throat and fell. A loud ringing began in her ears, before changing to a buzzing. Darkness swirled around until it grew in intensity, sucking her down into its murky depths.

In some far-off place, she felt arms surrounding her and move to pick her up. In that same far-off place, she heard someone shout. She wasn't sure what was said, as it sounded like it was coming from underwater. The arms holding her were suddenly pulled away from underneath her and she was free-falling for what seemed like hours, but in reality was only seconds. She blacked out before she hit the floor with a sickening thud.

Gentle pats to her face had her struggling to open her eyes. She opened them gingerly, but the light made her head hurt, so she closed them again. Up above, she heard Gavin Lassiter say, "Come on, Trinity, open your eyes."

So once again, she tried. Even though it hurt, she left them open. "What happened?" she murmured.

"It looks like you interrupted a burglar. I've called the police and an ambulance. Just lie still," he said.

She struggled to rise, but Gavin pushed her back down. "I said to lie still," he said.

She closed her eyes and raised a hand to touch her sore head. "Please cancel the ambulance. I'm sure I'm fine. Let's not make a big deal out of this. Okay?" she said.

"Sorry. No can do. Besides, it is a big deal. You haven't seen your office, yet."

She heard the commotion of numerous sets of feet and voices as they made their way down the hall. She groaned at what this would mean to her father. He'd probably feel vindicated.

"Is there anyway to keep this from getting out?" she asked Gavin.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Nothing... just nothing," she muttered.

After spending all day in the emergency room and being checked out from stem to stern, she was released with a filled prescription of pain pills. While she'd not suffered a concussion, she did have a couple of bruised ribs from where she'd been dropped. The biggest source of her discomfort was where her elbow had slammed into the floor. Overall, she was pretty lucky.

She'd not called her father, as she didn't want to deal with his irk. She supposed eventually he'd find out, but she'd put it off for as long as she could. She called a taxi and had them take her back to the gallery. She nodded to Elena, one of the salespeople in the gallery, and headed back to the suite of offices. She knocked quietly on Gavin's door.

"Come in," he said. When he saw who it was, he rose immediately to his feet and exclaimed, "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be home?"

"I will, but I wanted to see my office," she replied.

Gavin Lassiter sat back down in his chair. "I don't know if that's a good idea," he murmured.

She stood blinking at him for moment before turning and walking down the hall to her door. The door was still ajar and now in the light from the hall, she could see the door handle had been smashed. Pushing the door open slowly, her breath caught in her throat at the devastation. Papers were scattered everywhere, and every drawer had been removed and emptied onto the floor. She raised a hand to her trembling lips when she saw the canvas she'd been working on with the autumn leaves; it had been slashed to ribbons. Frantically, she looked around the room for Rush's 'little lady', as he'd called his painting. She stepped further into the office. Crumbled amongst all the debris was the tattered remains of the reflective ballerina. She fell to her knees, and with tears in her eyes, she ran her fingertips over the destroyed masterpiece.

Suddenly, it was just all too much: the shooting; her father's betrayal; her emotional roller coaster with Rush; her attack; and now the destruction of something so beautiful. She bowed her head and sobbed. She wrapped her arms around her waist and rocked herself in comfort. Who'd do this? Was it a break-in or was it someone after her father? She didn't know what to do. She didn't want to be back under her father's protection... AKA control. If she agreed to it now, she'd never be free.

Footsteps in the hall notified her of Gavin's presence. Without looking up, she murmured, "Just give me a minute, okay Gavin?"

Familiar strong arms lifted her from the floor. She inhaled sharply and his familiar scent filled her nostrils. She looked up into the concerned of eyes of Rush Drayton. His concern just made her sob harder. He enveloped her in his strong arms, held her close to his massive chest, and rocked her back and forth. He laid his head against hers and pressed his lips against her head over and over as he whispered words of comfort.

When she was finally able to speak, she said in a watery voice, "They destroyed your little lady."

He pulled back and lifted a hand to brush the tears from her face. He smiled sadly down at her. "It's only a painting. I'm more concerned about you."

It finally dawned on her that he was here, in Savannah. "What are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming back until the end of the week?"

"Lassiter called me this morning to let me know about the painting and what happened. I flew straight here. How are you? Shouldn't you be in bed? Lassiter said you'd been hurt and taken to the hospital. I was surprised to find you were already released."

"You went by the hospital?" she asked, surprised.

"Of course I did," he murmured. "So, what did the doctors say?"

"No concussion, only a couple of bruised ribs from being dropped," she replied as she wrapped her arms around him under his suit jacket.

"So tell me what happened this morning," he said.

"I came in early and surprised a burglar. When I opened the door, he slammed me into the wall. I fell and he picked me up, but then dropped me when Gavin came in. He ran out the back entrance."

She felt his body still and tense. "Why were you dropped?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, tilting her head to look at him.

He lifted his hands to cup her face. "I mean, if you surprised a burglar, and he knocked you out, why would he then pick you up?"

Her bruised ribs groaned in protest when she tensed at the question. She'd not thought about that. Were they actually after her? Alex Master's words floated over her mind, You are his weak link. She dropped her arms from his waist and stepped away as she contemplated the situation.

"What is it?" Rush said, coming up behind her to place his hands on her shoulder.

"Remember I told you my father had been hurt?"

"Yes," he murmured.

"Alex, my father's bodyguard, told me they might get to him through me. I dismissed the notion, but now..." she trailed off.

Again, she felt him tense behind her.

"If they thought that, why are you not under protection?" he demanded.

She cringed. "I told them I didn't want it," she replied in a small voice.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he exploded as he grabbed her arm to spin her around.

She gasped at the grip of his hand on her swollen elbow. He stared down at her, startled. Almost roughly, he removed her teal suit jacket, leaving her standing in a thin cotton undershirt. He surveyed the already black and blue bruising surrounding her elbow and swore softly. He raised her shirt and examined the bruising on her side. He closed his eyes and drew her once more into his embrace.

"Oh, baby. I'm so sorry. So very, very sorry," he murmured against her hair.

Her body slumped against his as thoughts chased themselves around in her mind. She didn't know what to do. Feeling needy and raw, she lifted her face to his and whispered, "Rush, I don't want to be here, take me away from here. Please just... take me away."

He stared down into her face for a long moment before leaning down to press his lips softly against hers. She sensed some internal battle within him. Maybe she'd been too presumptuous. She started to pull away when he pulled her back close to his body and whispered back, "Okay. Let's go." He grabbed her coat and helped her into it, buttoning it back up. "My driver's right outside."

He took her hand and led her out of the office. She turned for one last glance and shuddered at what might have happened if Gavin hadn't arrived when he had. Rush helped her into the backseat of the town car. Leaning forward, he instructed Radcliff, "Home, please." He sat back, hit a button on the console, and a privacy screen began to rise between them and the driver. Rush carefully pulled her onto his lap and held her close to his body. She nuzzled her face into his neck, feeling safe and less vulnerable for the first time all day. Her lack of sleep the night before, the warmth of his body, and the steady vibration of the car soon had her drifting off. Somewhere far off, she heard him murmur against her head, "Everything will be all right. I promise you that."

The setting sun was casting dark shadows throughout the unfamiliar bedroom she found herself in. She sat up slowly and looked around. She didn't even remember getting out of the car. Not seeing Rush, she rose and padded barefoot out of the room. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. He must have removed her suit jacket as she was once again only in her thin cotton undershirt. When she stepped into the hall, she stopped to listen for any sounds which would direct her to him. From the other side of the house, she heard his voice. She glanced at the rooms as she passed through them. As with the condo in Vail, his home was decorated in soft taupe and rich dark woods.

On the far wall of the living room were a set of wonderfully carved double wooden doors. One door was cracked a little and she could make out Rush talking to someone.

"Dammit! That wasn't what we agreed upon... I am fully aware of that... I said I would take care of it, and I will... I have not forgotten... We will do this my way, do you understand? Good. I promise heads will roll if anything like this happens again. Am I clear? Good." From inside the room, a phone was slammed down.

With tentative fingers, she reached out and pushed the door open. Rush was standing at his desk rubbing his hands over his face. He looked up at sound of the door opening. A sudden look of panic flitted across his features before he slipped on a neutral expression. He moved to her and gathered her carefully into his arms.

"Hi. How are you feeling? Better?" he asked.

"A little stiff, but better. Thanks for bringing me here. I didn't know where to go."

"You're welcome. Would you like something to eat or drink?" he asked.

She shook her head before tilting it to look up into his most beautiful face. "I'd really like a hot bath to soak my aching body. Would that be okay?"

"How about a hot tub? Would that be better?"

Running her hands down his lapels, she murmured as she straightened his tie, "That depends on whether you'll be joining me or not."

His body stilled underneath her hands and she began to feel awkward for being so forward. Her fingers began to fidget nervously with the tie. He laid a hand over hers. "I don't want to hurt you," he said softly.

She heaved a sigh and looked back down at their hands. She struggled with what to say. "I need to be free for just a little while. I don't want to think, I only want to be lost with you. Okay?" She lifted hesitant eyes back to his. He blinked down at her for a moment before stepping around her to lead her out of the room. The hot tub was set in a corner of his home gym. He dropped her hands long enough set the dials how he wanted them. Soon steam and bubbles appeared above the surface of the hot tub.

He turned to her and helped ease her undershirt and bra from her body, then eased her suit pants and panties off. He assisted her into the hot tub before swiftly removing his clothes. While he looked amazing in his high-dollar suits, nothing compared to Rush Drayton naked. His muscles bunched as he lowered himself into the steaming water. He sat across from her and contemplated her steadily. He was treating her like she was made of spun sugar and it wasn't what she wanted. Not liking the distance, she waded through the water and climbed up onto his lap. She sat facing him and the slick, wet slide of skin against skin was the most sinful thing she'd ever felt.

He wrapped his big arms around her and drew her even closer to his body. He slid his hands up and down her back, being mindful of her sore ribs. She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. He held himself back for an instant, then almost as if he couldn't contain himself, he captured her face within his hands and deepened the kiss. She groaned when his tongue met hers. She laced her fingers into his short-cropped hair and kissed him back with everything she had. Raw desire flared instantly at the contact and she rubbed herself shamelessly against him. He caught her hair in one hand and tugged so that she was forced to tilt her head back. He ran a trail of scorching kisses down her throat. He slid his hands underneath her arms and lifted her high enough so he could kiss her breasts. The sensation of his tongue against the tips of her breasts made her gasp and shiver in need. Desire mixed with desperation exploded in her belly and she needed him now as she'd never needed him before.

Without further thought, she placed her hand on his rock-hard erection and guided it into her molten-lava core. Slowly, she slid down inch by agonizing inch, until she had all of him. The sensation of the hot water and his slick, hot flesh was almost more than she could bear. He groaned as she encircled him. She sat still for a moment absorbing the decadent feel of him buried deep within. Staring down into his desire-filled eyes, she leaned forward, placed his face within her palms and pressed her lips against his. The sensitive tips of her breasts scraping against the sleek wall of his chest made her groan and grind her hips against him. His hands slid to her hips, and thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth, he began to lift and move her on top of him. The rhythm he set was slow and easy, but she wanted mindless, all encompassing, life-affirming passion. She pressed herself against him and struggled to quicken the pace. Need clawed at her insides, and she whimpered.

He stopped their movements and raised his hands to her face. She blinked uncomprehendingly down at him. "Hey, hey. Everything will be okay. Let's slow down. There's no hurry, we'll get there. Just sit back and enjoy the ride. Okay?"

Her lips quivered and tears appeared in her eyes. "But I need you so much," she whimpered.

He swallowed hard at her words. His chest expanded and his breathing became rapid. "Oh, baby. What have I done?" he murmured. He pressed his lips against hers softly as she shifted confused eyes to his, not understanding his words.

Grabbing her hips within his hands once more, he leaned his forehead against hers so he could stare into her eyes to keep her focused on him. With slow, even strokes he filled her over and over. He tilted his hips in such a way that it rubbed an area so sensitive within her, she shivered and was forced to grab his shoulders as her body convulsed around him. He sucked in a breath as her body squeezed and clenched around him. He increased his pace until once more she felt the now-familiar quickening within her. She grabbed his face and kissed him as tears slid unheedingly down her cheeks. Feelings, she was too scared to name, zipped through her body releasing all barriers, both emotionally and physically.

"Oh, baby. You feel so good. I want you so much," he murmured against her lips. As she seemed to explode around him, he slammed his body into hers over and over until he finally found his own release. He pressed kisses over her face and rubbed soothing hands over her back.

She sat in his lap, lost in his embrace, until long after their breathing calmed, and their skin pruned. Even with her arms wrapped around his neck, her face buried against him, and her body touching him in every conceivable way, she felt his withdrawal from her. Her lips quivered at the loss of connection. Even as he mindlessly rubbed his hands over her bared skin, it no longer felt like comfort... it felt empty.

Without moving her face, she mumbled against his skin. "Are you angry for having to fly back because of me?"

His hand paused briefly before continuing to rub her back. "I'm not angry, Trinity. I'm just glad you're not hurt any worse than you were."

"You seem a million miles away," she murmured.

He pulled back, smiled down at her, and traced her eyebrow with his wet fingertip. "I'm sorry. There's just a lot going on right now."

"So you're not angry for being coerced into the hot tub with me?" she teased.

"No. That's been the highlight of my day," he said with a grin. I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked.

"No, it was perfect. But I do need to go. My father will be worried... even more worried than usual. I'm sure by now, he's found out what happened at the gallery."

"You didn't tell him?" he asked, startled.

She shook her head. "I made such an issue out of not wanting protection, I just didn't want to hear him say I told you so."

He brushed her hair behind her ears in a loving gesture; however, beneath her, his body tensed. He swallowed hard, and for reasons unclear to her, he seemed... nervous... unsure even. She struggled to understand him. He was saying all the right things, but his body language was off somehow, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"I don't know about you, but I have to get out of his hot tub," he smiled down at her.

He lifted her off his lap and hugged her against his body before helping her out. He handed her a towel and draped one around his hips.

She dressed slowly, the stress of everything catching back up with her. She had a headache and her body was sore. She walked wearily to the living room. She stopped at the entrance when she saw Rush staring out the window with his hands on his hips, a dejected slump in his shoulders. He looked... defeated. What worried him so? She cleared her throat and he turned quickly to her, assuming a whole new persona. He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I... I think I'll just call a taxi and go home, if that's okay. I'm tired and my head aches. I really need to take a pain pill and go to bed," she said.

He came to her quickly, concern in his eyes – the first true emotion she'd witnessed in the last thirty minutes. He ran his finger over her brow. "You really need to eat something... at least a sandwich. Come, you only have to stay a few minutes, then I'll drive you home."

Her eyes burned at his concern. She cleared her clogged throat. "I really just want to go home," she said raggedly, trying to keep her emotions intact.

He pulled her up against his body and she rubbed her face against the soft fabric of his T-shirt. "Of course, let me grab my keys and we'll go," he murmured against her head. "My poor baby. It's been quite the day, hasn't it?"

She stared out the window silently as he drove. Her father was totally going to freak out. She sighed deeply and ignored the quick look Rush gave her. She didn't understand him at all. He made her feel so... crazy! He was hot and tender one minute, then withdrawn and pensive the next. She wondered if bipolar disorder ran in his family. He'd flown all the way back here when he'd found out about the break-in to check on her, so he obviously cared about her. But he seemed to struggle with it. She tilted her face to stare at him as he drove. He could be strong and aggressive, and then so seemingly broken and defenseless. She wondered which one was the true Rush Drayton.

While she tried to dissuade him, he walked her to the door anyway. He stared down into her face for such a long minute before leaning to brush his lips against hers. "Get some rest," he murmured.

She nodded.

"I'll call you later in the week at the gallery."

Again, she smiled briefly and nodded.

He ran his fingers over her jaw. "Everything will be okay. Try not to worry."

"Goodnight," she murmured.

With one last pat on her cheek, he was gone.

She waited until Rush pulled out of the drive before opening the door. She heard the crackle of the fireplace and was surprised. She turned toward the dining room and saw her father sitting at the table nursing a drink, probably scotch.

He took a swallow of his drink and indicated with a wave of his hand that she join him. She heaved a sigh and sat down at the far end of the table. He eyed her speculatively for a moment.

"Do you have any idea how terribly worried I've been? My God! You're my daughter and I have to hear through the grapevine that you were nearly killed today? What have I done to cause you to hate me so much?" he asked.

"I don't hate you, Dad," she murmured.

"I hope now you will see the sense in having protection with you."

She slowly shook her head. "No, I don't. We don't know that it wasn't just a burglary. I don't want my life invaded."

He regarded her over the rim of his glass. "Where have you been?" he asked quietly.

"Out. Just out. Listen, I'm tired and have a headache. I'm going to bed."

"You act like I don't have the right to be concerned. But what you did today was entirely selfish. I love you, Trinity. You're all I have, and I'm all you have. You can't just cut me out."

"I know, you're right. I was selfish, I should have called. It won't happen again."

"Good," he said with a small smile.

Chapter 6

Trinity woke groggy the next morning due to the pain pills. She dressed slowly as muscles that bothered her little the day before groaned in protest today. While she was still angry at her father, she forced herself to act as she always had. He was sitting at the table eating breakfast when she entered the dining room.

"Good morning," she murmured.

"How are you feeling this morning?" he asked.

"Fine. I wasn't hurt. I only went to the hospital as a precaution," she said, hedging the truth.

"Well that's a relief! I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you."

"I know. When will the doctors release you to go back to work?" she asked, as she buttered a piece of toast laid out on a silver tray on the table, compliments of Ms. Gibbons.

"Two weeks. I'll be happy when things get back to normal!" he exclaimed.

"Tell me about the death threats."

He sighed heavily. "I don't want you worrying about. That's what Alex and his crew are for," he said.

She contemplated him over her orange juice. "Any idea who it is?"

"There's the usual suspects, of course. People that have been through my court, and the such. But we just don't know. I'd feel so much more at ease if you'd let someone from Alex's team go with you during the day. Please – I'm begging you," he beseeched her.

She felt the noose tightening around her. As much as she rationally knew it probably was the best idea, she just couldn't do it. He'd had way too much control over her.

She slowly shook her head. "I'll be fine."

He sighed heavily again. "Trinity, I love you. You have to know that. I only want to protect you... it's all I've ever wanted to do. Ever since your mother..."

She cringed at the blatant manipulation. "I know, and I love you, also. But the answer is still no." Tired of the conversation, she rose. "I need to go to work. I'll see you tonight."

"At least let Ringo drive you to and from work."

"Okay." She acquiesced to this one request.

She was more nervous than she thought she would be walking into work. Gavin's door was open when she passed, so she popped her head in.

"Good morning," she said.

He bunched his eyebrows in surprise. "What are you doing here? I think you need to be home. You were just attacked yesterday."

"I wanted to come and try to straighten out my office. What did the Newberrys say about their slashed painting?" she asked, referring to the restoration on the autumn leaves.

"What could they say? The insurance will try to settle with them."

"Any idea who broke in? The police find anything?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No, there wasn't even anything on the security footage. The guy must have known where our cameras were, because he avoided them. How are you feeling today?" he asked.

"I'm fine, just a little banged up. I just hate it about the paintings. What a waste."

"I know. Let me know if you need anything."

"I will. Thanks, Gavin."

The nerves in her stomach nearly got the best of her as she walked towards her office door. She shuddered to think about how long it would take her to clean up the mess. She began by putting the drawers back into place, slowly and methodically she shuffled papers together and sat at her desk and sorted them. The two paintings had been removed, of which she was thankful. It broke her heart to think of them torn, shredded, and destroyed.

She righted her bookcase and began replacing all her books back on the shelves. She kept trying to determine if they had actually taken anything, but she never could identify anything that was missing.

Her office phone rang numerous times and each time, her heart thumped hard at the thought it would be Rush, but he never called. While it took her all day, by the end of it, she had everything righted into its place. She tried not to think about the fact that Rush hadn't called to check on her. The little girl in her wanted to stamp her foot. But she knew he was busy and had just gotten back into town after being gone for a week. But what if he never called? Just because he'd been all hot and bothered while they were on vacation, didn't mean he felt that way now. She remember how almost resistant he'd been about being with her yesterday. Maybe he never intended what they had to evolve past Vail. Her shoulders slumped at the thought.

For a brief second, she thought about calling him at his office, but immediately dismissed the idea. She'd not chase him. No, she'd let him set the pace. She imagined every woman he'd ever been with chased him. She didn't want to be lumped in with those he ultimately avoided. Besides, it'd only been one day.

She was placing the last of her books back on the shelves when Elena stepped in with a huge bouquet of purple roses. Their scent permeated the entire room almost immediately.

"Someone's a lucky girl," Elena said in a sing-song voice with a smile.

Once Elena set them on the desk and returned to the showroom, Trinity rustled an oversized card out of their midst. With a smile on her face, she tore open the envelope and dropped the card to the floor in her haste. She bent to retrieve it and realized it wasn't a card, but a photograph. She picked it up and turned it over and gasped. The photo was of a naked woman with what appeared to be a noose tied around her neck. As the picture had been cropped at the woman's neck, she couldn't tell who the woman was or what she'd been suspended from. Written in black marker were the words: This could be you!

She swallowed against the fear and bile in her throat. She sat down heavily in her chair. With shaky fingers she picked up the phone to dial... who did she call? If she called her father, he'd demand the added protection. If she called Alex, he'd tell her father. Was she supposed to call the police? She set the phone back down on its cradle. She thought for an instant about calling Rush, but vetoed that immediately. This wasn't his battle.

Trinity sat back in her chair and shut her eyes, but was forced to open them as the image of the photograph seemed burned onto her eyelids. She wondered who would send a picture like that? Who was the woman? Had they killed her? What did they mean: This could be you! Maybe her father was right and she needed protection. Why would anyone do this?

As it was past closing time anyway, she lifted the phone and called Ringo's number and told him to pick her up.

She was surprised to see Alex waiting at the curb instead of Ringo.

"Pulling double duty?" she asked him.

"Your father's at a State dinner and Ringo's with him."

She was quiet for a long while before finally speaking. "Something happened today at work. I'd prefer it if you didn't tell my father. You know how he is. But I'm sure it has to do with him."

Alex glanced at her as he drove. "I can't promise that. What happened?"

She cleared her throat. "I'm going to tell you, but no matter what my father thinks, I still do not want to be followed. Am I clear?"

Alex's jaw tightened, but he nodded.

"Today, some flowers were delivered to me at the gallery. Inside the flowers was a photograph of a naked woman's body hanging by a noose. The words: This could be you, were written across the picture."

"Did you know the woman?" he asked.

"No, her head had been cropped out."

"Do you have the picture?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I'll take a look when I get you home."

When they entered the front doors of the house, she handed him the manila envelope the photo was in. He opened it and slowly pulled the picture out. He glanced at it briefly, and glanced back at her, before sliding the picture back into the envelope.

"This was delivered to your work, you say?"

Her brow bunched in confusion at his words. "Yes."

"Today?" he reiterated.

"Yes," she said emphatically.

He eyed her speculatively for a long moment. "Okay. I'll look into it. Goodnight, Miss Grace."

Trinity didn't understand his weird reaction.

* *

The next morning, Trinity was surprised to not find her father at the breakfast table. She went to his study and the door was closed. From inside, she could hear the raised voice of her father and Alex Masters. While she could hear their voices, the door was so thick, she couldn't make out their words. She wondered if it had to do with the picture. She knocked softly and the loud voices stopped immediately. She opened the door slowly. Her father was standing on one side of the desk and Alex Masters on the other. Both men stood tensely with their jaws clenched tightly.

"This isn't a good time, Trinity," her father said dismissively.

"Is this about the picture I got yesterday?" she asked the two men.

Her father cut his eyes to hers quickly. "We'll discuss that later. Now if you'll excuse us, we're in the middle of something right now."

Trinity hesitated before slowly nodding her head. "Okay, I'll see you at breakfast."

Her father eventually joined her, his jaw set tight.

He took a deep breath and poured himself a cup a coffee. "Trinity, when things like that horrible photograph appear, I would think, as your father, I'd be your first call. You know how dangerous things are right now. I hope you can finally see the sense in having a security detail with you. There are some seriously deranged people out there, Trinity. If anything were to happen to you, I... I just don't know what I would do."

"Did the picture mean anything to you?" she asked.

"No. I was horrified that you'd seen something so disgusting. I'm so sorry, honey. I've spent my whole life trying to protect you from the horrors of my job. But like with your mother, it looks like I've failed."

Trinity studied her father carefully. There was something almost manipulative about his words, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"What were you and Alex Masters fighting about?" she asked.

He took his time buttering his toast before answering. "Alex and I don't always see eye to eye on how things should be done. It's nothing for you to worry about."

"Regardless of the picture, as I've already pointed out to Alex, I do not want a detail."

"Don't be so foolhardy. You're only cutting off your nose to spite your face. This is your life we're talking about, Trinity. Don't be so hardnosed just to defy me," he said.

"I won't be under your thumb any longer, Father. Someone sending a photograph isn't going to change that," she proclaimed.

* *

It was Friday morning before she heard from Rush. She'd just gotten into work and was in the process of stretching a canvas when he called.

"Rush Drayton on line one," Elena said.

"Hi," Trinity said happily.

"Hi yourself. Sorry it's taken me so long to call. It's just been so busy," he replied.

"No problem. I know you must have a mountain of paperwork to get through."

"I certainly do. I know it's last minute, but how about dinner tonight?"

"I'd like that," she said quickly.

"I'll pick you up at seven. Is that good?"

She hesitated. "Uh, maybe it'd be better if I just met you somewhere," she hedged.

Silence met her words. "Why can't I pick you up at your home?" he asked quietly.

She exhaled deeply. "My father can be... difficult."

"I think I can handle your father. Don't worry about it," he promised.

She chewed the inside of her lip before saying, "Okay, seven."

"Good, see you tonight," he said and hung up.

Oh, he could say good, but it probably wasn't going to be good.

* *

She dressed with care for her date with Rush. She waited until the last minute to tell her father. He was sitting at his desk reading over some briefs when she entered.

He looked up and smiled. "Before I forget, Jim and Marlena are coming for Sunday brunch. It's been a while since they've been here."

"Good, that'll be nice," she replied as she struggled with how to tell him of her plans.

As he took in her appearance, he saved her the preamble by saying, "I didn't know you were going out."

"I... uh... have a date," she murmured.

"A date?"

"Yes."

"With whom?" he asked casually.

"Rush Drayton."

He sat back in his chair and studied her for a long time. "How well do you know him?"

"Well enough," she replied.

He rose from his chair and stood with his back to her, staring out the window.

"What is it?" she asked.

He slowly shook his head. "Nothing."

Sighing deeply, she said, "Just say it, Father."

"Rush Drayton is a dangerous man."

"Why do you say that?" she asked, not being able to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

"He can be... quite ruthless. I just want you to be careful. He'll hurt you, you know."

"As ruthless as the guy I went to junior prom with?" she asked, sarcastically.

This time, it was her father who sighed deeply. He sat back down in his chair heavily. "Just promise me you'll be careful. I don't want to see you hurt... but that is what will happen."

A knock at the door saved her from answering. She turned and opened the door to find Rush standing at ease. He smiled and grabbed her hands and pulled her to him. Briefly, he brushed his lips against hers. "You look beautiful," he complimented.

"Thank you," she beamed. "Would you like to come in?" she asked hesitantly.

"Of course," he responded with a strange tightening of his lips.

She took his hand and led him into her father's study. Arthur Grace rose as they entered. Rush walked to the desk and extended a hand. "Judge Grace."

Her father hesitated only briefly before placing his hand in Rush's. "Mr. Drayton."

"I believe you knew my father," Rush said.

"Yes, I did. Very well. He was a good man. It was a shame what happened to him."

"Yes, it was a shame. My family has struggled for many years to overcome his loss," Rush said quietly.

Trinity felt the heavy undercurrents between the two men.

"How did you know his father?" she asked.

Arthur Grace eventually shifted his gaze from Rush to her. Clearing his throat, he said, "We worked together in the District Attorney's office. Blake Drayton was an Assistant DA. I was his boss."

She glanced at Rush, surprised he'd never mentioned that his father had worked for hers. Rush continued to stare at her father.

"You would have known my mother as well," Rush said to him.

"Yes, what a tragedy. It had to have been so hard for you. You were what... eighteen, nineteen?"

"I was a freshman in college when they died. It was harder on my grandparents. They've barely endured the loss," Rush stated passionately.

Her father sighed heavily. "I can only imagine."

Rush seemed to eye her father speculatively before saying, "I ran into a mutual friend of ours recently... Tiko Mars. Do you remember him? He said to tell you hello if I saw you. He's living down in Mexico now."

Her father's jaw clenched as Rush spoke. "Tiko Mars?"

"I believe he worked for you also, isn't that right?" Rush asked innocently.

"No, I don't think so," her father said.

Not liking the strange tension between the two men, Trinity cleared her throat. "Rush, I'm ready to go when you are."

He stared at her father for an odd minute before shifting his gaze back to hers. "Yes, of course. Let's go. It was good seeing you... Judge. I'm sure we'll meet again."

"I'm sure we will," her father murmured.

The restaurant Rush had chosen sat along the river's edge. It was quiet and elegant, its tables lit with tiny lanterns. The pensive Rush was back. Idly, she chewed the inside of her lip as she thought about the strange conversation between her father and Rush.

"How did your parents die?" she asked suddenly.

He snatched his eyes up to hers. He took a long drink before answering. "My father was killed while in lockup. My mother apparently couldn't live without him and she killed herself." He said the words so simply... almost as if it were a mere movie script instead of his life. She swallowed against his loss and for his pain. The image of the photograph that had been sent to her office entered her mind and she shuddered.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He seemed to see her... really see her for the first time since she'd opened the front door to him. He lifted gentle fingers and ran them over her cheek. "Me, too," he replied in a dismissive tone as he seemed to push that conversation away from his mind. "I've missed you this week. More than I thought I would," he said somewhat absently.

"Who's Tiko Mars?" she asked.

He blinked at her for a minute. "Nobody," he again said dismissively. He ran his thumb across her lower lip and studied it intently. "Come dance with me," he said huskily.

He stood and led her to the dance floor. He interlaced their fingers, folded her arms behind her back, and fitted her snuggly up against his body. He leaned his forehead against hers and closed his eyes.

Inhaling deeply, he murmured, "I've wanted to do this all week. To be with you... touching you... being filled with your scent."

She stood a little stiffly in his embrace. She was getting whiplash from his mood swings. He opened his eyes when he felt her resistance.

"What?" he asked.

"I don't know. Why don't you tell me?"

He released her hands to slide his down to her waist. "I'm sorry, but the memories of my parents' deaths are hard ones. Seeing your father just stirred them all back up. I didn't mean to ruin our night out."

"Is that all it is?" she asked.

"Of course. What else could it be?"

He pressed his lips against hers softly, briefly... too briefly, and he exhaled deeply. "Let's get out of here," he murmured against her lips.

He threw some money on the table and they left. He drove them to his house and led her straight through the house to his bedroom. He stripped them off quickly and tugged her up beneath him on the king-sized bed. There was a tinge of desperation in the way he made love to her... almost as if he was chasing away shadows. She clung to him as he cloaked himself within the depths of her body... searching for solace, she supposed.

She lay for a long time, her body still wrapped around his, desperate to understand his hidden demons. She brushed his shoulders with comforting strokes of her hands until he fell asleep. This time it was she who stood staring out at the night sky, wondering if she'd ever truly understand the man she was falling in love with. He scared her. He was all-consuming and intense... and as dangerous as her father had said. She had no doubt Rush Drayton had the power to hurt her terribly. She wished she had the strength to just walk away.

* *

The jangle of the new cellphone she'd gotten earlier in the week woke her. She jumped up immediately and saw the early morning light filtering through the window. Oh no, she'd fallen asleep. Her father was going to freak! Snatching her cellphone out of her purse, she looked at the number – sure enough it was her father. She glanced briefly at Rush still lying with his face buried in his pillow. Quickly, she snatched on his shirt and slipped it over her shoulders. Moving into the living room, she called her father back.

"Where the hell are you?" he shouted into the phone.

She cringed. With more bravado than she felt she said, "You know where I am."

"This is no way to behave, young lady. Do you sleep with every man you meet on the first date?" he asked crudely.

"As you were having me followed, I think you already know the answer to that question," she retorted.

"I think it's time for you to come home," he demanded.

"I'll be home when I'm ready. Please don't call unless it's an emergency," she said as she clicked the phone off.

"Well done," a naked Rush said from the doorway. "As sexy as you look wearing my shirt, I happen to know how hot you look wearing nothing at all. Why don't you come back to bed?" he offered salaciously.

She looked at him with his massive shoulders, chiseled stomach muscles and tapered waist, and knew who the hot one was in their relationship. She threw her cellphone down on the couch, and with a grin she launched herself into his arms before wrapping her legs around his waist. He laughed and swung her back around and headed to the bedroom.

She grinned at him over the breakfast table.

"What?" he asked, grinning back, as he licked juice from his fingers.

"I like you like this," she replied.

"Like what?"

"Happy, relaxed..."

He gave her an odd look. "Aren't I always?"

"No... usually you're... I don't know... intense, I guess."

He thought about her words as he chewed on a piece of papaya. "I guess I can be somewhat intense."

She smirked at his words. They ate in silence for a bit. "Tell me about your week," he invited. "Any more surprises?"

She lifted her glass to her lips and sipped her juice. She contemplated him over the rim of the glass, wondering if she should mention the picture. Her pause caused him to lift his intense eyes to hers once more.

"What happened," he asked quietly.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing, really."

He sighed deeply and his jaw clenched. "Just tell me."

"The day after the break-in, I received a bouquet of flowers at work. I... I thought they were from you," she said with a small smile, embarrassed.

"Who were they from?" he asked icily.

"I don't know. There was an envelope buried in the flowers which contained a photograph," she paused and pleated the napkin by her plate.

"What was it a picture of?"

"A naked woman with a rope tied around her neck, dangling from something. Her head had been cropped out of the picture, so I don't know who the woman was. Across the picture were the words: This could be you."

Rush sat, staring at her for a long moment before rising to stand with his back to her facing the window. It reminded her of her father in the same stance the night before.

"Does your father know about the photo?" he asked.

"Yes."

"What did he say?" Rush asked.

"That I needed his protection."

"To which you probably said no," he said quietly.

"I don't want to be under his thumb," she said, her shoulders tight in defensiveness.

He turned quickly. "At the expense of your life?" he shouted.

She jumped at his voice.

He turned back to the window and ran a hand over his head. "Whoever sent the flowers knows who you are... where you work... when you're at work. I think you should be taking this seriously. You want to act like it's no big deal. You might do well to consider we know what's best for you in this regard."

The tension in the room was so great she jumped when his cellphone rang. He turned from the window and picked up the phone, raking his eyes over her face as he did. He glanced at the screen and sighed at whoever was calling.

"I need to take this," he said as he walked towards the study. "Boppa! Good morning. Yes, I know. I need...." His voice faded as the door closed behind him.

She swallowed at his words. I think you should be taking this seriously. You want to act like it's no big deal. You might do well to consider we know what's best for you... The same feelings of claustrophobia she'd felt with her father were threatening to suffocate her now. Control. Domination. Regulation. Dictatorship. She felt the noose from the photo tightening around her own neck. This could be you! She felt it already was.

She rose and padded back to the bedroom to change from his shirt into her own clothes. She heard him call her name, but she ignored him. While she hadn't heard him enter the bedroom, she felt the tingle up her spine which told her he was in the same room. She turned her head and saw him, leaning negligently against the jamb, dressed only in thin cotton pants which hung deliciously low on his hips. The fact that his body still had the power to stir her even while she simmered only infuriated her more.

"Why are you leaving?" he asked.

"I... I just need to go."

"Trinity... I only want you to be safe," he said in exasperation.

"I know," she replied, her back stiffening as she slipped his shirt off her shoulders. Those were the same words her father used to gain control over her. She was drowning in those words.

He stepped up behind her and placed his hands on her bared shoulders. "Don't go," he murmured.

She tensed underneath his hands. "I won't be controlled, Rush."

He leaned in and brushed his lips against her ear. "I'm not controlling you. Haven't you ever had something so precious that you wanted to protect it at whatever cost?"

She shivered at the touch of his lips against her skin and at his words. "That's basically what my father says," she whispered.

He slipped his arms around her middle and interlocked his fingers against her bared stomach. He pressed his lips against the curve of her neck. Fire zipped through her at his touch.

"In this one thing, we are in agreement then," he whispered against her neck.

"You make me crazy," she said with a shudder. "You're this way, then you're that way..."

"I know, I know," he murmured, as he ran the tip of his tongue across the sensitive skin of neck.

"I can't take it anymore," she said wearily.

He turned her quickly in his arms and grabbed her face in his hands. "Don't say that," he said against her lips. With his innate skill, he coaxed her lips open to allow him access, she whimpered in frustration, because even now she couldn't force herself to deny him... or herself. Without breaking the kiss, he lowered them onto the bed and removed their only remaining clothing.

Without any more preamble than slipping on protection, he plunged his body into hers. She groaned at his reckless abandonment. He buried his face in the crook of her neck.

Raggedly, he said, "I know you don't understand, but just trust me... I need you to trust me."

"I don't know what to trust," she whimpered as she arched her back to meet his pounding thrusts.

He lifted his head to stare into her eyes. "Me. Trust me," he begged. "I'll make this work... somehow."

Chapter 7

His hard, slick body was pressed tightly against her from behind, and his big, powerful arms were wrapped firmly around her. He nuzzled the back of her neck as he buried his face in her hair. "Stay with me," he panted as he struggled to catch his breath.

Trinity kissed the hand that was closest to her mouth, needing to touch and be touched. Her body still sizzled from the expert tutelage of Rush Drayton.

"I don't even have a toothbrush," she muttered.

"I'll buy you a thousand toothbrushes. Just stay," he begged with a grin.

"I don't have any clean panties, either," she quipped.

He growled against her ear causing her to shudder. "Not a problem. You won't need any."

She giggled and felt his corresponding smile against her neck.

"Stay," he begged again. "Just until tomorrow. I have to go meet with my Boppa tomorrow afternoon. Stay with me until then."

"Boppa?" she asked.

Lightly he ran his wicked tongue against the outer shell of her ear and she shivered. He smiled at his obvious power over her body. "My grandfather. I'd get out of it if I could, but it's a necessity."

"If I stay," she gasped as he sunk his teeth lightly into her earlobe, "I have to go home in the morning. I also have a command performance. My godparents are coming for brunch and I'm required to be there."

"Godparents?" His question was nearly lost in her ear as she inhaled sharply when his fingertips brushed lightly against the already sensitized tips of her breasts.

"James and Marlena Franklin," she replied.

She felt him tense behind her. "Retired Judge Franklin?"

"Yes," she responded, puzzled at his sudden withdrawal. "Do you know him?"

With a last kiss against her head, he untangled himself from her. "I know of him, but don't personally know him. He was a sitting judge when my father was in the DA's office."

She shivered at the loss of not only his body heat, but his emotional connection. She slid to the edge of the bed and grabbed his shirt once again. With her back to him, she slipped it on and began buttoning it. "My father and Uncle Jim have been good friends for as long as I can remember. He and his wife really helped my father when my mother was killed. I don't know how he'd have made it without them."

"That's what friends are for, right?" he said in a tone she didn't understand.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

He slipped on the cotton pants he'd worn earlier. He moved to her and planted a hard kiss against her head. "Nothing," he said dismissively. Grabbing her hands, he pulled her to her feet. With his good humor put firmly back in place, he said, "Have you ever been skinny-dipping?" When she shook her head, confused at the change in conversation, he continued, "I happen to have a heated swimming pool. I think this would be a perfect opportunity to expand your education," he said with devilish grin.

She made it home on Sunday with barely enough time to shower and change. As the hot water pounded down on her, she had to close her eyes as visions of her last shower flooded her mind. Flashes of Rush's long, tapered, tanned fingers sliding silkily over her skin with the aid of bodywash. The feel of his hard, chiseled body pressed up against hers as the water pounded around them. The way the steam had surrounded them, encompassed them, made them seem even more isolated from the world – another layer of protection from anything which would pull them apart.

She panted against the intense longing she felt building in her body just at the thought of him. It frightened her how fast and hard she'd fallen for him. She wasn't sure what his feelings were about her – or really about anything. While she knew he wanted her, beyond that, she just didn't know. There were times when she felt so connected to him, and then just as quickly, the connection would be severed.

Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest. Rush Drayton was an extremely handsome man, as well as an extremely wealthy and powerful man. The fact he knew how to make a woman's body sing, only intensified his desirability to woman. What chance did she have in keeping a man like that? He could have any woman he wanted, so why would he settle for her in the long run?

She lifted trembling hands to her face. She knew the time would come when he would lose interest in her and move on to the next willing and probably more experienced woman. She didn't want to think about that time, but its distinct inevitability pressed down upon her. Quickly, she finished her shower and dressed for brunch.

Her father steadfastly ignored her. She could feel his irk waft off him in waves. He pasted a smile on his face, however, when the doorbell rang, alerting them to the presence of their guests. Appearance above all else, was her father's motto.

While in his late sixties, James Franklin was still an attractive man. His Italian heritage on his mother's side ensured his hair remained the same dark color it'd always been, with the exception of a little graying at his temples. He was a big wall of a man who smiled easily. He'd wrapped his mammoth arms around Trinity and swung her around as easy as he would a ragdoll.

"There's my girl," he said with a grin, as he placed her back on her feet. "And as pretty as ever."

Trinity gave a mock curtsey. "Why thank you, kind sir," she said in an exaggerated southern drawl.

As big and boisterous as Jim Franklin was, his wife Marlena, on the other hand, was his exact opposite. She was petite and soft-spoken. Trinity had always thought they were the perfect match for each other.

Ms. Gibbons had laid out a small feast on the side table and they all filled their plates and returned to the table. Trinity sat quietly and listened to the others as they caught up on current events in their lives.

She was placing a strawberry in her mouth when Marlena asked her, "So, Trinity, are you seeing anyone special?"

Trinity hazarded a quick glance at her father before responding. "Well, I have been seeing one man. Rush Drayton."

The quick turn of James's head caught her attention. He glanced quickly between her and her father.

"What?" she asked him.

"I'm just surprised. That's all," James Franklin replied.

"Is there something wrong with my dating him?"

"Wrong... no, not wrong. But he's kind of known as a womanizer, isn't he?" James asked.

"I've already tried to warn her about how ruthless he can be. But, of course, what do I know? I'm only her father," Arthur Grace said from the other end of the table.

"I think you could do so much better than Rush Drayton," James said in disapproving tones.

Anger simmered through her body and she hated having to defend herself yet again. "Well, according to the information you've just given me, it won't be a problem for much longer, will it?" she said snidely. "So you all can just relax. Thank you for a lovely brunch. It was good seeing you, but I have some things to take care of. If you'll excuse me."

Without another word, she rose quickly from her seat and headed upstairs.

* *

The next day, she returned from lunch to find a huge bouquet of a variety of flowers in a riotous array of colors on her desk. Her stomach fell at the revolting sight. She moved to them cautiously and with hands that shook, she removed the card.

The flowers you received last week should have come from me. Please forgive my thoughtlessness. I'll try to do better in the future. Thanks for an amazing weekend! Rush

The receipt of the flowers and his words at a time when she was beginning to doubt him, made her eyes mist and her lips tremble. She sank with weak knees into her chair. I'll try to do better in the future. Was it possible they might actually have a future someday? Her chest tightened in fear of hoping for that very thing.

At mid-afternoon, her office phone rang as she mixed pigments and dyes. "Trinity Grace," she answered.

"I've missed you today," Rush murmured in his sinfully roguish voice.

"I've missed you, too. I received your flowers. They're beautiful. Thank you." Her face hurt from smiling so big.

"Have dinner with me tonight."

"Let me check my schedule," she teased, then laughed when he growled and swore. "I get off work at five-thirty."

"Spend the night with me," he commanded.

"Is that the only way I get dinner?"

"Spend the night with me," he commanded again.

"I don't..."

"Just say yes. You know you want to," he said.

Fear had her hesitating. It was all too fast, too good. It couldn't possibly last. Eventually, he would burn out on her and move on. Then she'd be left with trying to scrape back together the pieces of her life.

"Can we start with dinner?" she asked haltingly.

He sighed. "We can start with dinner as long as it ends with you in my bed."

"I like ending up in your bed," she said breathlessly.

He laughed, "I know you do. From your screams of ecstasy, I think my neighbors know it also."

"I don't care if they know," she replied boldly.

"I'll tell you a secret... I don't either."

"I'll see you tonight then?" she asked.

"I'll have Radcliff pick you up at five-thirty. We'll have a nice dinner at home."

"Okay. I'll be ready."

A little before five o'clock, Elena called her from the front gallery to let her know a package had been delivered for her. Trinity was surprised the package hadn't been delivered to the back bay where they were normally processed. With a quick glance at her watch, ever mindful of the time and wanting to be ready to leave at five-thirty, she moved swiftly to the front of the gallery. Setting on top of a display counter was a lime-green gift box wrapped with a bright red bow. The gift tag, simply read: To: Trinity. She gave a small smile to Elena and scrunched her eyebrows in confusion as who would send her a gift.

Scoping up the box, she carried it quickly back to her office. She set the box on the center of her desk and grabbed the ends of the bow and pulled. Lifting the lid from the box, she peered down and laughter bubbled up and spilled from her lips. The hilarity of the box's contents had her nearly doubled-over and her eyes watering. Nestled inside the box was an enormous assortment of toothbrushes in every shape, size, and color. I'll buy you a thousand toothbrushes, he'd said when he'd begged her to stay over the previous weekend. There probably weren't a thousand but there were several dozen. Her heart filled to overflowing at knowing he'd been thinking about her all day.

While riding in the town car driven by Radcliff, Trinity called and left a message for her father, letting him know she wouldn't be home. She knew leaving a message was the chicken's way out, but she didn't want her father's irk to ruin what had been a wonderful day.

When Rush opened the front door for her, she smiled and slipped her hands up and around his neck.

Wrapping her in his strong embrace, he returned the smile and placed a gentle kiss against her lips. "How was your day, dear?" he asked with a grin.

Sliding her hands down, she withdrew a packaged toothbrush and placed it in the front pocket of his shirt.

With a pat of her hand against it, she smiled. "It was great... and getting better," she said as she reached for his hand and led him towards the bedroom. "I know you said we'd have dinner first, but..."

He growled as he swung her up and carried her the rest of the way to the room.

They sat close together while eating the dinner left by his housekeeper.

"I have a business dinner tomorrow night. I'd like you to come with me," he said.

"I'd love to."

He brushed a knuckle down her cheek. She loved the intimate feel of his tender caress. Dinners... gifts... gentle touches... this all felt normal... felt real. Her heart thudded in her chest, love obvious in her eyes.

"Keep looking at me like that and we'll not get through dinner," he murmured.

"I don't care," she said softly.

"Woman, you're trying to kill me, aren't you?" he growled.

She laughed, feeling freer and happier than she'd ever felt in her entire life.

The rest of the week passed in the same vein as Monday had. He called her everyday and usually sent her something small, either flowers or something that would bring a smile to her lips. While they were together every night, she drew the line at staying over every night. So, the routine was set of eating, making love, then him driving her home, before kissing her soundly on her doorsteps. It scared her at how utterly and completely happy she was. She felt like the fabled Grinch when his heart grew and grew. Her heart was full to overflowing. She struggled to keep the words contained within her lips. She didn't want to scare him with making their relationship so serious this soon into it.

On Friday, she packed a small duffle before heading off for work. She assumed she'd be spending the weekend with Rush and she wanted to be ready. At noon she received a bouquet of yellow roses with a note which simply read: Thinking of you... of us... of last night. She smiled as the memories chased around her mind: of the cool night and the warmth of the pool water... of being pressed up against the roughened walls of the pool as he'd stroked his amazing body into hers... of his continual words of want and need... of her begging and pleading with him to push her over the sexual cliff he'd held her suspended... of crying out when he'd finally flung her off that cliff. Oh, she had it bad for him. He made her so happy.

Her father, on the other hand, made her so miserable. She was met with his stony silence every morning over the breakfast table. She'd been surprised this morning when he'd actually spoken to her. Of course, it was to only to tell her he had plans for the evening and would be home late. She sighed deeply. She was within days of being twenty-three and her father still wanted to treat her like she was sixteen. She refused to be manipulated by his coldness. In the past, she would have folded long ago to his demands. She'd always sought his approval and did whatever it took to obtain it... not that she ever actually received it. It was like a carrot dangled in front of a horse – always just out of reach.

Rush called in the middle of the afternoon. "Hi, baby," he crooned into the phone.

She'd smiled into the phone. "My office is filled to overflowing with flowers. The smell is amazing. Thank you for them."

"You're welcome. After last night, it was the least I could do. How is your back? It was pretty scraped up last night. I'm sorry," he murmured huskily in a tone which led her to believe he might have been sorry for her scrapes, but would do it again.

"I'm not sorry," she replied.

"I want you right now," he said huskily.

"What would you do if you had me?"

His voice dropped into a raspy whisper. "I'd strip you naked and throw you over my desk and..."

She interrupted him, her body flushed with the image. "Okay, okay. Just hold that thought until after work."

He exhaled deeply. "That's why I'm calling. I'm sorry, but I won't be able to see you tonight. I have a meeting I can't get out of."

"I could come over after your meeting." She hated the almost begging quality of her voice, but her body was bristling with the need he created in her.

"I... think it'd be better if we make plans for tomorrow. I don't know how long the meeting will take. How about I pick you up around two tomorrow afternoon?" he asked.

She hated the insecurity that rose at his words. Was he tiring of her already? Her chest burned at the possibility. She fought to rein in those feelings, not wanting him to know of them.

"Tomorrow afternoon is fine," she said in mock assurance.

"Good. I'll pick you up. Oh, and bring a change of clothes as you will be staying," he said.

"Why? Will I be wearing clothes?" she said in invitation.

"Woman! You're torturing me here." He sighed deeply. "Until tomorrow then," he said before clicking off the phone.

Well damn! She'd gotten used to being with him and hated the thought of not doing so, even for one night. At least she would have the house to herself and not have to deal with her father's icy silence all evening.

Seeing as how her plans with Rush had never materialized and her father wasn't going to be home, Trinity placed a quick call to Sundra, hoping she'd be available to catch a bite. Sundra promised to meet her downtown after work. Trinity felt a little guilty as she'd been ignoring her friend lately in lieu of spending time with Rush.

She worked until six before packing up her supplies and heading out. She roamed around the brightly lit streets of Savannah while she waited for Sundra.

She was standing outside the agreed upon small Italian restaurant when she spotted her friend coming down the sidewalk - her red hair a beacon which drew all eyes to her. She hugged her tight.

"I've missed you!" Trinity exclaimed.

"Well, if I was dating the Greek God, I wouldn't call me either," Sundra said on a laugh.

They walked into the restaurant and quickly ordered drinks.

"So, dish," Sundra said once they'd received their wine and had placed their food order with the waiter.

Trinity raised her eyes to the ceiling and giggled. "Oh, he's just... well utterly amazing!"

"How's the sex," Sundra asked with a grin.

Trinity blushed. "Well, that's... utterly amazing as well."

Sundra laughed. "I had no doubt it would be. Why is it you've found yourself alone on a Friday night?"

"He had a meeting."

"Humm," Sundra answered noncommittally.

"What?"

"A business meeting on a Friday night?" she asked.

Trinity stomach clenched at the thought of what else could have kept him from her. "Do you think it could be someone else?"

"I don't know. He is kind of known as quite the ladies' man," Sundra replied.

"My father and Uncle Jim both said the same thing. How would I ever know for sure," Trinity asked.

Sundra shook her head. "You know him better than me. Just pay attention and look for the signs. It may be nothing."

The joy of the week was diminished as Sundra's words twirled through her mind. Could he be with someone else? Was that why he was so distant sometimes? She struggled to eat the food she'd ordered.

When they'd finished eating, Trinity begged off the move and instead called for a taxi and headed home. The house was dark as she'd expected it to be when she got there. She was a little surprised to find the entry light wasn't on, but maybe Ms. Gibbons had forgotten to turn it on when she'd departed. She flipped it on when she entered so her father could see when he got home. The light flooded the entry, but left the rest of the house in shadows.

She mounted the stairs and headed up to her bedroom. She found it odd that her bedroom door was closed. Usually, Ms. Gibbons left it opened after it'd been cleaned. Trinity turned the handle and pushed the door open. Before she had a chance to slide her hand up the wall to flip the light switch, someone dressed in dark clothing came flying at her. She immediately threw up her hands in defense. Panic flooded her. It was almost a replay of what had happened in her office. The person ran straight towards her, knocking her to the floor. The air was forced from her lungs at the impact of both the body and the floor. Before she could rise, she heard the pounding of feet as they lumbered down the staircase and then the slamming of the front door.

With her heart pounding, she scrambled to her feet and moved on unsteady legs into her bedroom. She struggled to breathe as she flipped on the light. What little oxygen she'd had was forced brutally from her lungs. Her room had been destroyed. Every drawer had been opened and their contents dumped out. She took a couple of stumbling steps further into the room. Her closet doors were flung open and clothes and shoes were thrown in every direction.

She fell to her knees at what next met her gaze. Lying scattered around her, were the massacred remains of all her paintings. The canvases had been slashed and the wooden structured frames destroyed. All the paintings she'd worked so tirelessly on, gone. Tears filled her eyes at their loss. Who would do this? What did they want? Her next thought made her blood run cold. What if they came back?

She crawled to the door and locked it. She had no illusion the lock would hold anyone out for long. She fumbled in her purse for her cellphone and dialed her father's number, but it went straight to voicemail. She left him a message begging him to return her call. She struggled to remember Alex's number, but her thoughts were too scattered. The only other number she knew by heart was Rush's office number, but he wouldn't be there. Would he? She dialed his direct line, but the phone rang and rang before it also went to voicemail. She clicked off without leaving a message.

As much as she didn't want to, she knew she'd have to call the police. She'd begun to press the familiar 911 code when her phone buzzed with an incoming call. Her father!

"Thank God you returned my call!" she said frantically.

"What's the matter? Where are you?" he demanded.

"I'm at home. Someone was here... in the house. They've destroyed my room. I don't know about anything else. Please come home. Please, Daddy," she whimpered like the little girl she felt like at the moment.

"Of course. Alex and I will leave immediately. You lock yourself in your in room and we'll be there in about fifteen minutes. Okay?"

"Will you stay on the phone with me?" she said through her fear.

"Of course, I will."

Her father had taken her into his arms and her emotions flooded her at his contact. She buried her face in his neck and sobbed. This was the second time someone had destroyed her space. What did they want from her? Her father led her down to his study and poured her a small tumbler of brandy to steady her nerves. They'd left Alex to secure the premises and check out the damage to her room.

Her father sat next to her on the arm of the chair and lightly stroked her hair in comfort as they waited on Alex to return.

"Why would someone ransack my room?" she asked her father.

"I don't know. But it certainly has me worried." He paused a moment before asking, "Why were you home?"

"Rush had an unexpected meeting."

Her father rose from his perch on the chair. "Hmmm."

She jerked her head up at his tone. "What?"

"Nothing," he muttered.

"What?" she asked again.

"I just find it strange that you've been attacked twice since dating him. This time he cancelled his plans with you and then you're attacked again."

"What are you implying? That it was Rush? Why would he do this? What did he have to gain?"

"I'm not implying anything. I just find it curious is all."

Alex's return saved her from replying.

"Did you find anything?" her father asked him.

Alex glanced at Trinity then back to her father. "No, I didn't," he said in measured tones. "The house is secured. You'd do better to sleep in a different room until we get this sorted," Alex directed at Trinity. "Was there anything about the attacker you noticed? Any clue to who he was?"

Trinity began to shake her head, "No, it all happened so fast..." she paused as a thought struck her, "he had a lightning bolt or something tattooed on his forearm. His sleeve was pushed up. Does that help?" she asked Alex Masters.

He stared at her silently for a long moment before clearing his throat. "I'll look into it," he replied.

"I would like to have a word with you in private, if I could," he directed to her father.

"Of course. Trinity, why don't you go up and shower. I'll be up in a minute, okay?"

She eyed the two men before rising to her feet. She trudged exhaustedly up the stairs. As much as she didn't want to, she had to go into her room for something to wear. The scene was just as devastating as it'd been before. The paintings she'd worked so hard on and hoped to one day hang on her own walls, lay like spent carcasses after being devoured by vultures. It was the worst possible violation. A shudder ran up her spine at the violence demonstrated. Quickly, she sifted through the room until she found the items she needed before departing swiftly.

She lay in bed that night missing Rush. Wanting more than anything the powerful feel of his arms wrapped tight around her... the feel of his warm breath against her cheek... the reassuring thudding of his heart against her back.

The next morning, she groggily made her way down the stairs. Her father was sitting at the dining room table reading a newspaper and eating breakfast.

He smiled gently when he saw her, and carefully folded his newspaper. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Fine," she answered as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

"I hate to bring this up again..." he began.

"Then don't," she said, interrupting him, knowing he was about to bring up protection again.

He inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. "Trinity, you're being unreasonable," he said in a tone normally reserved for those who were slow-witted.

"They weren't after me, Father. They could have gotten me... or hurt me, if that had been their intention. But it looked like they only wanted to ransack my room. I'm not saying it makes any sense. But I don't want my movements monitored."

He sat in quiet contemplation for a long moment. "Would you at least consider two things? Think about what your relationship with Drayton has brought into your life, and then think about what might happen the next time someone gets close enough to hurt you. You might not be so lucky."

"I'll think about it," she said as she rose from the table without eating.

Needing to get away from the oppressiveness of her father's house, she changed into jeans and slipped out through the kitchen's entry. She walked down to the Hot Spot, grabbed a coffee, and once again called for a taxi to pick her up.

She had the taxi take her to downtown Savannah and drop her off there. She walked around the historical district for a couple hours before finally making her way to Forsyth Park. As the weather was becoming warmer, and more people were beginning to venture outside, the park was littered with several groupings of people. She sat on a bench closest to the cast iron fountain for which the park had been named. She wondered if those who'd sculpted the fountain in 1858 would have ever guessed that it would eventually become one of the most popular attractions in Savannah... or if they'd even have cared about that. She'd walked the 30-acre park many times, and from where she sat, she could see the monuments erected to the Confederate Soldier, the Marine Corps Monument, and the Fragrant Garden for the Blind.

Being here soothed her. It reminded her that time marches on and things that seemed so difficult today would eventually just fade away, just as surely as the vibrant blooms on the Azalea bushes fell away. Her father's words came back to her. Rush made her happy... made her complete. She liked what he'd brought to her life. She would admit her father had a point about not being so lucky a third time.

Restlessness settled over her. She knew she was going to have to agree to a security detail and she hated it. She ran a tired hand over her face. She looked around at the others in the park and wondered if their lives were as complicated as hers. She wished Rush was with her. She always felt safer with him... less alone. She rose from the bench and began walking the grounds of the park. The day was beautiful and the sun beat down, warming her chilled body. Her stomach grumbled and she remembered she'd not eaten breakfast. She turned down a side street to cut through to the food district located on the other side of the park.

She walked with her head bowed as she thought about her paintings once more. They would have meant little to anyone but her. It was if they'd been destroyed to deliberately hurt her. But who would do that? She was almost halfway down the side street when she heard movement behind her. A group of three men dressed in biker gear seemed to appear from out of nowhere. She sucked in a deep breath and turned back quickly only to find her path blocked by three more men dressed similarly to those behind her. She swung back around and those behind her were moving towards her quickly. She whirled around in a circle trying to find a way out, but didn't see anything.

"What do you want?" she screamed at them.

Before she could say another word, one man with a long, scruffy beard reached out and punched her solidly in the face. Pain as she'd never experience before exploded in her head at the punch and a warm trickle of blood began to pour from her nose. She blinked frantically as her eyes watered involuntarily against the intense pain. She raised a hand to swipe at the tears.

"Why?" she began as the same man threw another punch which this time connected to her jaw. She stumbled against the blow and fell hard. She saw a swift thrust of a boot, and stars exploded in her head as the boot made contact. Her head lolled as darkness claimed her.

She woke to a blinding light being flashed into her eyes. She tried to close her eyes shut against the pain which seem to encompass her entire body. But the pain in her head was the worst.

Fear flooded her body and she forced her eyes open. She was marginally comforted to see the familiar uniform of an EMT sitting above her.

"What happened?" she asked groggily.

"You were attacked. Do you know your name?" the EMT asked.

"Trinity Grace," she whispered.

"Is there anyone you want us to contact?"

"My father. Arthur Grace. His number is on my cellphone in my purse," she mumbled.

The EMT looked around. "I don't see a purse, ma'am," he said.

A robbery? Really? That's what she needed. Could things get any worse? "My father is Judge Grace," she said as she recited their home number.

She groaned as the stretcher she'd been placed on bumped towards the waiting ambulance. Once loaded into the vehicle, the EMT began asking a series of questions: Where is the pain? Can you follow my fingers? Can you take a deep breath?

Chapter 8

Her father, of course, completely freaked about her attack. While she'd refused to have armed guards at her door, she did relent to accepting protection from Alex and his team. She'd finally begged her father to leave. She just couldn't take any more. Her injuries weren't as severe as it could have been and consisted of severe bruising and a minor concussion. Her nose had been broken but was now reset. Her doctor promised her she'd wake with what he termed 'raccoon eyes'. Great, she'd thought. He'd given her pills for the pain, but she'd put off taking them until she'd had an opportunity to talk with Rush. As it was the weekend, and she didn't know his cellphone number as it had been programmed into her stolen cellphone, she had no way to reach him. She just had to wait until he tried to contact her. A nurse came in to set up an intravenous drip, which, despite her intentions, soon had Trinity drifting off to sleep.

She woke confused at first to where she was until the aches and pains of her body brought it back to her. She sat up slowly in the now near-dark room, and winced at the sharp stabs of pain which seemed to explode in her head.

She was reaching towards the water pitcher on the small rolling table, when a warm masculine voice said, "Here, let me."

She turned her head too quickly and couldn't suppress the moan. Rush was standing by her bed looking down at her with concerned eyes.

"Hi, baby," he said softly as he brushed hair out of her face.

Tear sprang into her eyes at seeing him. She attempted to smile but the movement made her nose hurt.

"Oh, baby. Please be still. What can I get you? Do you need a nurse? Water? Medication?"

"Just the medication and water, please," she mumbled.

He moved around the bed and poured the water into a cup with a straw. He shook the two pills into his palm from the cup on her tray. He moved back to where he'd been and helped her take them. He pulled his chair up close to the bed and held her hand between his.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine. It looks worse than it is," she assured him.

"Do you know what happened?"

She told him about walking through the side street and being attacked by the men.

"Oh, baby. I'm so sorry," he murmured.

"Do I look hideous?" she asked.

He smiled tenderly. "No, you look beautiful."

She wanted to roll her eyes, but found they were growing heavy from the medication.

Mumbling, she said, "Someone destroyed my paintings."

He blinked rapidly at her words trying to understand. "You were carrying your paintings?"

She struggled to keep her eyes open. "No at home, in my room. They slashed them... last night."

He rose swiftly and moved to the only window in the room.

"Don't leave me," she slurred.

He immediately came back to sit beside her and stroked her hair. "I won't, baby. I'll stay. Get some rest. Okay?"

"Okay," she said as she began to fade out.

"I'll protect you. I promise you'll be safe...," he whispered.

She drifted asleep to his strange words.

She was forced to stay in the hospital for two more days. During which time, her father was her only visitor outside of the police and Alex and his team. By the second day, she was getting frantic that Rush seemed to have drop off the face of the planet. She tried to contact him at his office, but his direct line went straight to voicemail. His secretary told her he was tied up in meetings all day, but she'd surely give him the message she'd called.

It was late on the second day when she finally talked her doctor into letting her go. She had to find out what had happened to Rush. She was panicked, and not sure why. But she had a very bad feeling. Ringo was standing outside her room when she'd finally dressed, called for a taxi, and signed the necessary release paperwork.

They were descending in the elevator when she said, "I won't need you anymore today."

Ringo's shaved head didn't so much as flinch at her words. "Sorry, ma'am. You don't get to make that decision. I don't work for you."

"Well, here's the thing, Ringo. I am an adult, and if you attempt to follow me, I'll call the police. You have no legal right to refuse my request. Am I clear?"

"Yes. I hear you. But let me be clear. The moment I step through those doors, my first call will be to your father, who is in charge."

"I don't care who you call," she said angrily.

The elevator doors opened and Trinity stepped swiftly to the waiting cab. She knew the cabbie must have found it odd for someone to be wearing sunglasses at nine o'clock at night, but she didn't care. She gave him Rush's address and sat back wearily in the seat. Why had Rush just vanished? Had her father gotten to him? She'd never forgive him... never!

Her heart began to pound in her chest as she neared Rush's house. What if he turned her away? She was thankful her father had left her money for incidentals during her stay in the hospital or she'd have no way to pay for the taxi. At least this way, she could send the taxi away. She'd make Rush deal with her. She'd just given leave of the taxi when a thought occurred to her – what if he wasn't alone? She swallowed hard at the pain of the thought.

With trembling hands, she rang his doorbell and waited. After what seemed an excruciating amount of time, the light in the entry sprang on. She blinked behind her sunglasses. Slowly, the door opened and there he stood, beautiful as ever. Her heart twisted in her chest at the sight of him. Now that she was here, she didn't know what to say.

"Trinity? What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in the hospital?" he asked.

"May I come in?" she asked.

He seemed to hesitate and again her heart squeezed brutally in her chest. "Of course."

He moved aside and allowed her to enter. She took a quick glance around the room, relieved not to see anyone there... at least not in the living room.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

"Well, I guess if Mohammad won't come to the mountain..." she trailed off.

He exhaled heavily and walked past her as he rubbed a hand across his face. "Please have a seat. Do you want something to drink... to eat?"

"A glass of wine would be good."

"Can you mix wine with your meds?" he asked.

"I'm not taking any. I felt I needed a straight head."

"Why? What's going on?" he asked.

"I think that should be my question."

Instead of answering, he moved to the kitchen and reappeared after a minute with two glasses of wine. He handed her one before moving to sit a little ways down the couch from her. The gulf between them seemed vast. She swallowed against the pain. She took a fortifying drink of the wine before setting the glass on the table. She moved close enough to him on the couch to reach out a shaky hand and place it on his arm. He flinched at her touch and she jerked her hand away as if she'd been burned. His rejection of her touch injured her far worse than any attacker ever could.

More emotional than she intended, she said, "Please tell me what's going on?"

He stared down at his glass for a long time. With a decisive thrust of his jaw, he met her gaze straight on. "I can't see you anymore."

Her breathing and her heart stopped at his words. "What?" she straggled out.

"I don't want to see you anymore. What we had was fun while it lasted, but I think its time for us to part ways."

Tears began to streak down her cheeks and she removed her sunglasses to swipe at them. "Does this have anything to do with my father?"

His eyes flashed up to hers and he flinched at her discolored eyes. "No, it does not."

"I don't understand. Did I do something wrong? Is there someone else?" Pain lanced through her chest and she was barely able to get the words out of her mouth.

He sighed deeply and stood. "No, you didn't and no there isn't. We both knew this would run its course."

"But all the flowers... all the gifts... this past week. Did it mean nothing?" she cried.

Without turning around, he gave a wry, almost harsh laugh. "Oh, Trinity. You have a lot to learn. This is how the game is played. If you had more experience you'd know that. Let's not make this more than what it was. I had fun, you had fun, but now it's over."

She felt as if he'd kicked her in the stomach. She slumped back down on the couch, her legs unable to support her.

"Please don't do this. I can't bear it." She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. "Please. I'll do anything," she begged.

He was silent for a long moment. In an emotionless voice, he said, "I'll have Radcliff take you home. Goodbye, Trinity."

Without another word, he left the room.

Chapter 9

Rush Drayton didn't call that week or the week after. Every passing day caused the pain in her heart to solidify into a hard cement core. What had she done wrong? She cringed every time she remembered how she'd begged him and he'd just walked away. Every insecurity she'd ever had was raised to the surface. Maybe he needed someone more in his league. She'd thought briefly that maybe her father had gotten to him, but tossed it aside. She couldn't see Rush Drayton being intimidated by anyone.

As she lie in bed at the end of the third week without him, pain sliced through her chest and the tears she'd refused to shed throughout the three weeks slid heedlessly down her cheeks. She missed him. She missed his comfort and concern. She missed his gentleness. She missed his touch and his soft lips against hers. How was she supposed to move past him? He was the ultimate man. Was she supposed to now just make do with someone else?

Her father was happy to have her home and to have things back to normal... his normal, anyway. The stained-glass windows had been replaced and there'd been no further attempts on either of them. Maybe the threat had passed. He'd gotten cleared by his doctors and had returned to work, so he was happy. Her bedroom had been sorted and her belongings put back in their proper place, with the exception of her paintings. Her injuries from the attack had all healed, and only if you looked closely could you still see the faint yellowing of bruises around her eyes and nose.

She got up everyday and dressed. She went downstairs and picked at her breakfast as her father talked about whatever was coming up in his day. She went to work and tried to remember the passion she'd once felt for her beloved artwork. She went to the museum and sat for hours in the atrium, but found no solace. She felt empty... hollow. She told herself repeatedly to just get over it. She'd only known him for a matter of weeks. But the man had seriously rocked her world and knocked her off-kilter. She found sleep evasive and eating a chore she avoided. It was all starting to catch up with her as there were dark circles under her eyes and her weight was in a steady decline.

It was now Saturday and she was once again sitting at the breakfast table with her father, picking at the food on her plate... or at least pushing it around on her plate. She found the mere thought of actually putting the food into her mouth repulsive. She could hear her father rambling at the other end of the table but wasn't really paying any attention to what was being said.

"Trinity Allura Grace! Are you listening to me?" her father said sharply.

She jumped at his loud voice. She lifted startled eyes to his. "I'm sorry. What?"

He sighed heavily. "What is wrong with you? You look terrible. You need to start taking better care of yourself. Now, about tonight..." he began.

"Tonight?"

He sighed again. "Yes, tonight. The Eternity House Charity Ball? I told you about it last week. It's tonight. Do you get a gown?"

She shook her head.

He sighed again. "Did you set a hair appointment?"

Again she shook her head.

He threw his napkin down on his plate. "This is an extremely important event, Trinity. I can't emphasize that enough. Every important person in the city will be there. I need you by my side, okay? Now finish your breakfast and I'll have Alex drive you into town and let's hope you can find something acceptable at the last minute. Don't forget about getting your hair done. You look like hell!" he exclaimed.

She flinched and groaned internally about having to dress, go out, and then smile and be entertaining when she'd never felt like it less. But she merely nodded. It was just easier to go along with her father. She didn't have the energy to fight him right now.

* *

Alex Masters sat beside her in the SUV and drove in silence. The reflective lenses of his aviator sunglasses hid his eyes. Vaguely, Trinity wondered if he resented babysitting her on a Saturday. It couldn't be the highlight of his day to take her shopping. With a dismissive shrug, she turned her head to stare out the window.

For the millionth time, she wondered what had happened to turn Rush away from her. What had she done? She wished she could talk to him just once more for closure. Her stomach roiled at the thought of being close enough to him speak and not having the freedom to touch him. Maybe she'd never had that freedom. She chided herself for letting a short-term romance shatter her this way. She should be thankful she'd gotten what she wanted. She now knew what it felt like to be held and loved by a man. How she wished she'd remained ignorant. This hurt too much. She wrapped her arms around her waist to ward off the chill she felt way down deep.

She jumped at Alex's voice. "Everything okay?" he asked.

"Yes."

"No more incidents since the attack at your office?"

"No. Why do you ask?" she asked, wondering if something had happened with her father that she'd been unaware of.

He shrugged his shoulders. "You just seem... off. I just wondered if something was going on."

She shook her head before turning to stare back out the window. "No, nothing."

Not really being in the mood to shop, Trinity picked up the first red dress she came across. She picked red as it was the color her father would approve of. She tried it on, but found her usual size too big. She frowned. She hadn't realized she'd lost that much weight. She was really going to have to pull herself together. This was pathetic. She finally found a size which fit and bought a pair of strappy high-heeled red shoes to match.

She made her appointment at the hair salon and decided to have it swept up and piled on top of her head. The image was smart and sophisticated. Her father would be pleased.

Alex gave a small smile when she emerged. "Very nice."

She smiled in return. "Thanks."

She had to admit, she felt better. Maybe tonight was a good idea. She had been closing herself off from everyone. Even Sundra had stopped calling after being told repeatedly she didn't feel like going out. But no more. She was going to make an effort to do things whether she felt like it or not.

* *

The Eternity House Charity Ball was an annual event to raise money for Eternity House, a shelter for abused children. No expense had been spared. The ball was being hosted in a converted movie theater which was now used primarily for wedding receptions, and events such as the ball. The theme for this year's ball was A Golden Opportunity. The decorations were all done in varying shades of gold. There were huge swatches of gold metallic material draped from the ceiling and the tables were all draped with shiny, gold tablecloths.

While her choice of dress had been hurried, she was happy with her selection. The gown was formfitting and cut severely low in the back. Two strings of faux diamonds draped across her back keeping the dress fitted snugly. With her upswept hair, she looked older and exotic. Her father had smiled proudly when she'd appeared on the staircase at home.

She stood beside him now with a glass of champagne in her hand. They'd been at the one-thousand-dollar-a-plate event for nearly an hour. Her resolve to throw herself back into life was waning. She smiled at those her father introduced her to and replied when spoken to, but all she wanted was to be home safely ensconced in her room. She stared down at her glass as she slowly swirled the golden liquid around. Beside her, she could hear the cadence of her father's voice as he spoke to those around them, but she wasn't really paying attention to his words. It wasn't until she felt him stiffen and his cadence falter that she glanced up. Entering the ballroom's grand entrance was none other than Rush Drayton.

He was dressed as most others in a black tuxedo. In deference to the ball's theme, his bowtie was gold. On his arm was the beautiful current reigning Ms. Savannah, Hillary Reed. She was stunning in her figure-hugging gold dress. Her long, blonde curls swirled as she walked. Acid seemed to burn in Trinity's stomach as she watched the couple stroll into the room. She watched as Rush leaned towards Hillary to catch what she was saying. Trinity gasped softly when whatever had been said caused him to smile.

Apparently feeling her gaze, he lifted his eyes and froze momentarily when he caught sight of her. Her chest heaved with the need to breathe, but she couldn't seem to get enough oxygen. She turned to her father and placed a hand on his arm. He turned questioning eyes to her.

"I'm going to go sit down."

"Of course, darling," he said with a smile.

She turned and walked on unsteady limbs to their table. Why had he come? In all of her life, she'd never run into him anywhere, and now he was everywhere. How was she supposed to get through this night? The image of his arm draped around the beauty queen stabbed repeatedly at her heart. She slumped down into her chair and let the contents of her glass slide down her throat. A passing waiter took her empty glass and replaced it with a full one.

She'd purposefully sat with her back to the room so she wouldn't have to watch Rush look down into a woman's eyes that wasn't hers. Snapshots of the last time she'd been with him in the swimming pool flashed in her mind... his beautiful face twisted in want and desire. His muscles straining to maintain his control. The feel and taste of his slightly salty skin on her tongue. She lifted her glass and took too big a swallow and choked. Her eyes watered as she coughed. She raised her napkin to her mouth and tried to stem her coughing. Seeing that she was drawing attention to herself, she rose and went to find the ladies room.

She finally calmed the tickle in her throat and repaired her makeup. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the bathroom. She stood for a moment outside the huge double-door entrance of the ballroom and considered just leaving. Alex could run her home then come back and get her father. Knowing this event was important to her father, and not wanting to give Rush the satisfaction of knowing he'd ran her off, she took another deep breath and lifted her hands to the door handles.

The breath was forced from her lungs on a gush when she heard a familiar voice.

"Hello, Trinity. You look beautiful tonight," Rush Drayton said softly from behind her.

She swallowed against the boulder lodged in her throat, licked her lips, and turned around. "Thank you."

He was leaning against the lobby wall raking her over with his eyes. "How have you been?"

"Good... busy," she said a little breathlessly. What did he want from her? Her heart was pounding out an unhealthy beat in her chest.

He began to walk towards her and she took a step back in self-defense. "I've missed you," he said huskily.

The air was once more forced from her lungs. She took another step back and felt the wall behind her. "Don't... just don't," she whispered.

He walked slowly towards her and stopped when their bodies were almost touching. He raised a shaky hand to lightly trace the edges of her jaw. "Why? It's true."

She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. "I need to get back," she said.

"You've lost weight," he said as if she'd not spoken.

Her heart twisted in her chest. "Please, don't," she begged him.

He leaned into her and brushed his face against hers. He was close enough to her that she could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest. "I know you don't understand, but it really is better this way," he murmured against her ear.

She shivered at the contact of his lips against her ear. "Why?" she asked breathlessly.

He sighed heavily and took a step back as he rubbed a hand against the back of his neck. The removal of his body from hers, made her chilly. "It's just... better."

She swallowed hard and before she could stop them from coming out of her mouth, she said, "I've missed you, too."

He flinched at the words. "I'm sorry. I... never meant to hurt you."

Without another word, he turned and re-entered the ballroom. She stood leaned against the wall for several moments before she was steady enough to open the doors. She checked to see where Rush had gone and then purposefully walked to the opposite side. She returned to her seat facing the wall. Her father was now sitting at the table, as well as the rest of table's guests, and dinner was being served.

"Ahh, there you are. I was getting worried," her father said.

"Sorry. I was in the ladies room."

She lifted her glass and drank from it carefully. She picked at the food on her plate and struggled to ignore the tingling at the back of her neck which let her know Rush was still in the room. The dinner plates were removed and dessert was served, and then eventually those plates were picked up as well.

The orchestra was setting up to play when her father excused himself from the table. With her eyes trained on her water glass, it wasn't until she heard his voice through the speakers that she became aware that her father was on the dais speaking.

"Good evening, everyone. I wanted to personally thank everyone for attending and supporting such a worthy cause. I feel doubly blessed to have my own daughter with me tonight. I would be remiss if I didn't take a moment to wish her a happy birthday. My little girl turned twenty-three today. Trinity, will you please stand?"

She'd forgotten her own birthday. With her face reddened, she complied, but kept her back to the audience. She gave a small wave and smiled briefly to her father, who she was going to kill later for this, before sitting back down. Her father moved the topic away from her and her birthday and continued on about the benefits and worthiness of Eternity House.

Once he was reseated, music began to be played by an orchestra and people began filtering to the dance floor. Her father stood and extended a hand to her. Never having felt like dancing less, she placed her hand in his and stood. He led her to the floor and they circled it dancing a familiar waltz. At the end of the song, her father bowed to her and she had to smile at the formality of the gesture. They'd stepped to return to their table when the tiny hairs on the nape of her neck stood up. She turned her head to see Rush walking purposely towards them. Her heart began to pound. Beside her, her father turned to see what had captured her attention and tensed.

Rush gave a nod to her father. Gruffly, he said, "Judge Grace."

"Drayton," her father responded.

Rush extended a hand to her. "May I have this dance?"

Not sure how to get out of it without causing a scene, she gave a small nod and turned back towards the dance floor. She shivered at the feel of his hand against the bared skin of her lower back. He slid one arm around her and held her hand with the other. He moved them smoothly around the dance floor. She looked up into his godlike face and her stomach clenched. He stared down at her with such intensity she was forced to look away. He pulled her a little closer to him.

"Happy birthday," he said.

Staring at a spot just past his shoulder, she murmured, "Thank you."

They danced in silence for a minute and she wondered how long she could endure being this close to him and not breaking down. Her heart was beating frantically in her chest and her breathing was rapid.

"I can't seem to stay away from you," he finally said softly.

She swallowed hard and blurted out before she could stop herself, "Then don't."

"I don't want to hurt you."

She gave a small smile with trembling lips. "Too late."

"I... never intended for things to get this deep. I have to try and protect you the only way I can," he said.

She lifted confused eyes to his. "Protect me from what?"

His lips twisted wryly, "Me."

"I don't understand," she said in frustration.

"I know and I'm sorry. I wish... things could have been different."

She shook her head at his confusing words and shifted her eyes from his as tears sprang into them. "I... I can't be with you. It just hurts too much," she said softly.

His body tensed underneath her hands. "I understand. Thanks for the dance." He released his hold on her and with a nod of his head, he walked away. She followed him with her eyes until he sat down next to Hillary Reed.

She made the walk back to her table on unsteady legs. Her chest burned and she struggled to regain control of her rioting emotions. She began to get lightheaded and her stomach became queasy. She'd nearly reached her table when her hands began to tremble and a fine sheen of perspiration formed on her upper lip. She swallowed and blinked rapidly as black spots appeared before her eyes. Heat swept over her, suffocating her with its intensity. A distant ringing began in her ears and became steadily louder until it hurt. She saw her father rise from his seat just as she slumped to the floor.

She regained consciousness to find herself surrounded by numerous faces. Embarrassment caused a deep stain to creep up her face. Her father was kneeling beside her, concern sketched on his face.

"Sweetheart. How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Please take me home," she begged quietly.

"Alex is bringing the car around. We'll make a quick stop by the hospital and then we'll go home. Okay?"

"I'm fine. I just want to go home. Please," she beseeched him as tears formed in her eyes.

"We need to ensure you're all right," he said, patting her hand.

"Please help me up. All these people are staring at me."

Her father waited until Alex appeared to help her up. They sandwiched her between them and on still trembling legs, they helped her across the room. She kept her head bowed not wanting to see the people who'd watched her fall to the floor. They'd gotten almost to the doors, when her father and Alex paused. She glanced up to see the obstacle in their path. She inhaled sharply as she met the hazel eyes of Rush Drayton. His unerringly amazing face was marred with concern. He stepped towards her.

"Are you okay, Trinity?" he asked.

Her heart felt as if a giant fist had it squeezed within its grasp. She closed her eyes briefly against the pain. Inhaling deeply to level her voice, she said, "Yes, thank you. If you'll excuse us," she said dismissively.

He stepped closer and raised a hand as if to touch her but dropped it instead. "Good. Well, I hope you feel better," he murmured, as he turned on his heel and walked away.

As they rode in the car, her father sitting beside her, he turned to her and asked, "How often do you see Rush Drayton?"

With her head leaned back and her eyes closed, she murmured, "I don't see him. As I sure your minions can attest to."

She felt her father's eyes on her but didn't raise her head. "He's a very dangerous man. You need to stay away from him, Trinity. Promise me, you will."

"As he ended it between us weeks ago, Father, I don't think that will be a problem."

While she begged her father not to, he was persistent in taking her by the hospital. So there she sat in a small room waiting for her blood work to come back. Her father and Alex were waiting for her in the waiting room. A knock on the door alerted her to the doctor's presence. The harried young intern gave her a small smile.

"Ms. Grace, it looks like congratulations are in order..."

Chapter 10

Pregnant. What was she going to do? She sat quietly in shock in the back of the car. Her father was going to go insane when she told him... especially because of who the father was. This was bad, very bad. She should have told her father the minute he asked what the doctor had said, but instead, she'd just said everything was fine. The easiest way around this problem was to just get rid of the baby. But she couldn't do it. She'd never be able to live with herself. Did she tell Rush? She supposed eventually she would have to tell him. He deserved to know. She wondered how he would react?

How had this happened? She sat up quickly when she remembered the hot tub. She'd been so desperate to have him, she'd let passion overrule good sense. Rush would probably think she orchestrated everything to trap him into a relationship with her. What was she to do?

She tossed and turned all night, but still didn't come up with any answers. She had to tell her father. While he wouldn't be happy, he would eventually come to support her. He was her father and he loved her.

She found her father in his study the next morning. She took a deep breath and tapped on his door. Walking to the desk, she sat in one of two chairs facing it. She ran nervous hands, slick with sweat down her pants.

"What is it, Trinity?" he father asked with a touch of impatience.

"I have something I need to tell you," she said quietly.

Her father sat back at her tone and eyed her speculatively. "Yes, what is it?"

She coughed nervously and rose from the chair unable to sit still. She rubbed her hands together. Clearing her throat, she said, "I'm pregnant."

He gasped at her words. "Pregnant?" he whispered. "Pregnant," he said the word almost in a shout. "How could this have happened? I've done my best to safeguard you from this very thing. Why do you think I eliminated all the others? And yet, you sneak out and do that very thing... and with him, of all people. Do you realize what you've done? Do you realize the shame and disgrace you have brought onto our family? I'm a Judge... a high-ranking official, and you have soiled our family name. There is no other alternative; you need to get rid of it, and the sooner, the better."

She whipped her head up at his words. Rage flooded her. "I'm sorry you feel that way. But that is not your decision to make. I'm keeping this baby. And I'll do this with or without you. In fact, I'll go one step further; tomorrow I'll begin looking for my own place. That way, you won't have to live with my shame," she declared.

He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. "And how does the perspective father feel about you being pregnant?"

"I... I haven't told him."

"I think it'd be better if you didn't. I can't emphasize enough how dangerous the man is. Outside of being evil, he is quite the ladies' man. You sure can pick them," he said mockingly.

"I don't know what I'll do yet. But the decision will be mine," she answered quietly as hurt swept over her. Her father was probably right. She was probably just one girl in a long line for Rush Drayton.

Her father sighed heavily and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Listen, Trinity, I'm sorry for speaking so harshly to you, but I'm your father and I know what's involved in rearing a child alone. It's not the life I wanted for you. Let's just wait until things calm down before we begin making any rash decisions. But I think you should seriously consider what having a child with Rush Drayton will entail. He's an extremely wealthy man from a powerful family. Odds are, if he finds out about the baby, he'll take it from you anyway. So what have you gained by going through the pain of having a child? I don't want you to move out. This is your home... it will always be your home, no matter what decisions you make."

Tears clogged her throat at the truth of his words so she just nodded her head before leaving the room.

She lay in bed that night with her hand over her stomach. What was she going to do? She knew the decision to move out was the best thing for her. Her father would continue trying to force her to make decisions based on what he wanted... not what was best for her.

The next morning, she rose and was hit by a wave of nausea so strong she barely made it to the bathroom. Once she could get her stomach settled, she dressed and met her father at the breakfast table.

As she nibbled on a piece of toast, she said, "Father, I think it would be better if I find my own place."

He set his coffee cup down carefully and eyed her for a long time. "Trinity, if you decide to go along with the pregnancy, you will need my help. Stay here. This is your home."

"I appreciate that, but I think its time I got out on my own. I have a job and I have my heritance. It's... time," she said as she rose. "I'll see you after work."

"One more thing before you go. I want to let you know that I'm getting a new security team today. They should be in place by lunchtime. One will be by to guard you at your office. Wait for him, okay?"

"What happened to Alex and his team?" she asked.

"Alex forgot who ultimately was in charge. It was time for him to go," her father answered evasively.

She nodded her head at his strange answer and headed off to work.

* *

Trinity was thankful she had three different projects she'd just started at work. She didn't want time to think. She worked throughout the morning. The new security guard hadn't arrived by noon. Not that she minded, she needed some time alone. As was her norm, she grabbed a sandwich and headed over to the museum. She sat on the bench she'd claimed as her own in the atrium in front of the statues. She ate as much of the sandwich as she could manage, but her nerves wouldn't allow for much. She still didn't know what to do about Rush and the baby. She tried to make sense out of the things he'd said to her the night of the ball, but it made no sense. What did she need protection from?

She rose from the bench and walked over to the weathered glass and stared out at the riotous blooms on the bushes outside. She felt very overwhelmed. She wrapped her arms protectively around her middle.

"I thought I might find you here."

Her breath left her in a gush and she closed her eyes against the pain of Rush's voice behind her. She couldn't deal with him right now.

"What do you want, Rush?"

"I was worried about you. I went by your office. Since you weren't there, I took a chance and came here."

"I'm fine," she said, knowing she should just tell him, but was afraid.

He walked over to stand a little way away from her. He stood with his hands shoved down into his pants pocket. "I'm glad."

Her heart seized at standing close enough to smell his musky cologne and see his godlike features. Her mind whirled at her available options. She struggled to find the words to tell him, but it was just all too new. She couldn't do it. She couldn't force the words out of her mouth.

She was glad her hands were wrapped around her middle so he couldn't see their trembling. She took a deep breath and swallowed hard. With as much edge as she could manage, she asked, "Was there anything else?"

He lifted a hand to rub across his face. "I never wanted to hurt you, Trinity. I tried everything I could think of so that you wouldn't be. I just... wasn't strong enough."

Unwanted tears slid down her cheeks. "I don't understand," she said, her throat clogged with tears.

He exhaled sharply. "I know you don't, and I'm sorry. I want you to know I enjoyed our time together. My decision to end it had nothing to do with you."

She gave a watery laugh. "It's me, not you? Surely with your wealth of experience, you could come up with something better than that."

He gave her a wry smile. "Be happy, Trinity Grace. I will miss you." Without another word, he turned and walked away, the click of his shoes on the marble tiles echoing through the hallway.

She sat heavily on the stone bench and lifted a hand to stifle her sobs at the finality of his words. Would the pain ever lessen? His words never made any sense to her. He spoke as if his decisions weren't his own to make. She thought again of her father's files and the guys who'd been eliminated. Did her father have something on Rush?

Digging her cellphone out of her purse, she called Gavin and told him she wasn't feeling well and wouldn't be back to work. She then called for a taxi.

Sliding into the backseat, she said to the driver, "District Courthouse, please."

Trinity swept through the halls of the courthouse she'd been walking through since she'd been a young girl. She walked purposefully to the elevator bank located in the center of the building and pushed the button for the third floor. She entered her father's suite of offices. Mrs. Callie, who'd been his secretary for longer than Trinity could remember, sat at her desk, her fingers causing the computer keys to click madly. She looked up when Trinity entered the office.

"Trinity! How nice to see you. It's been a long time."

Trinity gave her a small smile. "Hi, Mrs. Callie. How have you been?"

"Working like a racehorse since your father returned," she said with a laugh.

"I'll bet," Trinity said. "Is he in?"

"Oh no. He's in the middle of a case. He should be back in his office in about an hour or so, if you want to wait."

"I think I will."

Trinity gave Mrs. Callie another smile and headed into her father's office. She sat in the chair facing his desk and closed her eyes. The strain of the last month was fast catching up on her. Her mind whirled at the decisions she needed to make. With abortion being an unaccepted option, she needed to begin making plans for being a new mom. What did she know about being a mom? She barely remembered her own. And for the hundredth time, she wondered what to do about Rush.

She woke to a hand on her shoulder. She jerked up and looked in to the stern face of her father.

"Trinity, why are you not at work? Is everything all right?" Arthur Grace asked.

She tilted her face as he leaned down to kiss her cheek. "Hi, Dad. I wanted to talk to you, if you have a minute."

Arthur Grace removed his black robe and hung it on the coatrack in the corner of his office before sitting down behind his massive desk. He leaned forward and poured coffee from an antique coffee urn into a cup and sat back in his seat.

"What can I do for you?" he asked as he sipped his coffee.

She studied him carefully as she chewed the inside of her lip. "Father, I want to ask you something, and I need to know the truth, okay?"

"Of course. I'm always truthful with you, Trinity."

"What did you have on Rush Drayton?" she asked simply.

He glanced up at her quickly before his mask of passivity was slipped back into place. In a forced casual manner, he took another sip of coffee. "Whatever do you mean?"

Her heart began to beat wildly and she struggled to breathe. "What did you have on Rush that would force him to stop seeing me?" she asked from between clench teeth.

Arthur Grace leaned back in his chair and gave her a sympathetic smile. "Trinity, sweetheart. Why would you think your breakup would have anything to do with me? I know you won't believe this, but I never wanted you hurt. I won't say I'm unhappy about your breakup, but really, what control would I have over a man like him?"

"Why didn't you tell me you were his dad's boss? Why did that seem to be such a point for him? And who is Tiko Mars?"

He sat contemplating her for several minutes. "Honey, I know he broke your heart and you're hurting. But don't go looking for shadows were there aren't any."

"Answer my questions, please."

He sighed heavily as if aggrieved. "Blake Drayton was not a nice man. He was an Assistant DA when you and your mother were kidnapped. He tried to use the tragedy of that event to come after my job. I know how painful those memories are for you; it wasn't something I wanted to bring up."

"What about his mother? He seemed to want to make a point about his mother to you as well," she said.

"Adrianna Drayton was having an affair with someone at the courthouse. It was assumed it was someone in the DA's office, but I never knew who it was. When Blake was killed in lockup, she committed suicide. I can't say I know why. I really don't know what point he was trying to make."

She studied him, trying to decipher the truth from his words. "Who's Tiko Mars?" she asked.

"I don't know, Trinity. Look, I have to be back in court soon. I am sorry you're hurting, but it doesn't have anything to do with me."

Her heart was pounding and her breathing was rapid. Her mind was spinning. Was he telling the truth? She didn't think so, but she just didn't know what he was lying about. Maybe Rush just didn't know how to let her down easy, so he said things to make himself look less culpable.

She dropped her gaze to her hands and her lips trembled. "I don't know what to believe... what to trust. I'm so confused," she whispered.

Her father stopped and pressed a kiss to her head. "I know, sweetheart. But you know you can trust me. You've got a lot of important decisions to make soon, and..." His voice trailed off as a thought occurred to him. "Trinity, where's your security detail at?"

"He wasn't at the gallery when I left for lunch."

His lips thinned. "Trinity, you were just attacked. It's important for you to wait for security."

"I know, Dad."

Arthur leaned over his desk and buzzed Mrs. Callie's desk. "Get me the head of my new security team, Lance Planter."

"Trinity, when Lance gets here, you have him take you home. Okay?"

"Don't bother him. I'm only going home. I'll get a taxi right outside the courthouse. I'll be fine."

"No, absolutely not," her father said.

"I'll be fine," she said emphatically.

"Straight home," her father said, as he strode out of the office.

Trinity took a moment to wipe her face and call for the taxi before she left his office. She waved goodbye to Mrs. Callie and headed out. As she moved back through the courthouse halls, she struggled to rein in her emotions. You know you can trust me, her father had said. But hadn't Rush sworn to her... begged her even to trust him and look how that had worked out. None of it made any sense. It was almost as if there was this huge piece of a puzzle that she didn't have, and the truth lay somewhere in between what her father had said and what Rush had told her.

She blinked rapidly when she stepped through the courthouse doors. The brightness of the sun after being in the dim hall of the courthouse made her nearly blind. She took a moment to allow her eyes time to adjust. Across the street from the courthouse, Trinity saw a taxi idling at the curve. She glanced quickly in both directions and moved swiftly towards it.

The squeal of tires drew her attention. If her mind hadn't been so preoccupied, she might have reacted quicker. But in horrified fascination, she watched as a black SUV bore down on her. Her mind froze, trying to understand the situation. At the last second, she turned to jump back. Before she had an opportunity to move more than that, the SUV hit her on her side and flung her high into the air. She fell to the pavement with a sickening thud. The SUV didn't stop, nor even slowed.
Chapter 11

She was lying on a soft raft floating in the middle of a lake. The sun beat down on her skin, yet a cool wind blew against her, causing her to shiver. She was cold. She looked far off to the shore, wishing she wasn't so far away. She turned her head to find her mother lying next to her.

"Are you cold?" her mother asked.

"I am," she replied.

"Well, hold my hand; maybe that will help."

She tried to unfurl her fingers to link them with her mother's, but they were too stiff from the cold.

"Where have you been?" she asked her mother.

"Here. Waiting for you."

"I've missed you," she murmured.

"I know. I'm sorry," her mother replied.

"I'm scared, mom."

"Don't be. Things have a tendency to work themselves out," her mother replied with a soft smile.

"I don't know what to do."

"Just be strong and hold on," her mother replied.

"Will you stay?"

Her mother sat up and looked away. "No."

"Why? I don't understand. Did I do something wrong?" she said with tears in her eyes.

Ignoring her question, and in soft tones, her mother said, "It's time to head back now. You ready?"

"No! I don't want to leave you."

Without another word, her mother jumped from the raft. The force of the jump shoved the float towards the far-distant shore. She watched the surface of the water for a long time, waiting for her mother to reappear, but she never did. Slowly and sluggishly, she began to paddle with her arms towards the shore. But it seemed no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't reach it.

She was tiring and the shore was just too far away. Defeat settled down on her like a weight. Numbly, she slipped to the side of the raft, and taking one last deep gulp of air, she eased into the inky water. The weight of her body caused it to sink gradually to the bottom of the lake. Through the shimmering water, she would see bright splotches of light. As weariness flooded her, she closed her eyes and melted into the peaceful abyss.

* *

Her head felt as if it were filled with cotton. Her mouth was dry and her throat was on fire. She desperately needed something to drink. She struggled to pry her eyelids open. It took her several minutes to get them to obey her brain's command.

She was lying in a room that was somewhat familiar, but wasn't her room. She blinked slowly, trying to get her mind to focus and comprehend what she was seeing. She could see the television mounted on the far wall, but it was turned off. Somewhere close by she could hear a faint beeping sound. The sound was comforting for some reason.

She lay perfectly still, trying to remember where she was. But the effort was just too great. Exhaustion caused her to close her eyes and she allowed her head to loll to the side. In the far recesses of her mind, she remembered the dream about her mother. She'd seen her mother's face, knew it as surely as if she'd just seen it yesterday. Weak tears slide out from underneath her lashes.

She swallowed and was reminded of the severe burning in her throat. If she could only have a drink of water she'd feel so much better. She struggled to clear the fog out of her head. With considerable effort, she fluttered her eyes back open. She began to blink her eyes rapidly as tears filled them again. Even through the dimness of the room, she could make out Rush's form. He was standing with his back to her staring out the window, his hands buried deep within his pockets, just like the last time she'd seen him at the museum. For reasons she didn't quite understand, she felt vulnerable and weak. She tried to force the tears to stop, but it was almost as if she had no control over them.

She ran her eyes hungrily over his form and wanted more than anything to be free to go to him and wrap her arms around him. It finally dawned on her where she was and why it seemed so familiar. Her heart seized in her chest. The last time she'd been in the hospital, he'd broken up with her. The next thought that chased her mind was about being pregnant. Was that why she was here? Had she lost the baby? With her chest heaving, she slid her hands down clumsily to her lower stomach. She whimpered against the pain of loss. First Rush, now the baby. She didn't know if she could endure it.

Her painful keening must have alerted Rush that she was awake. He moved to the bed and gripped her icy fingers within his own.

With tears sliding down her face, she begged him. "No... Please no..."

He carefully crawled onto the bed with her and wrapped her in his massive arms and held her. He kissed her head over and over. "It's okay. The baby is fine. The baby is fine and you will be also," he murmured.

The relief of his words only made her cry harder. He ran his hands soothingly up and down her spine and just held her. She eventually cried herself out and exhaustion once again claimed her. In the comfort of his warm embrace, she drifted back into the healing powers of sleep.

The next time she woke, without opening her eyes, she inhaled his familiar scent first, then felt the warmth of his body. She snuggled into him, afraid to open her eyes in case it was a dream. She felt the brush of his lips against her temple. She blinked her eyes open and froze as she remembered his words, the baby is fine. He knew about the baby. She tensed in his arms.

"Hey," he said quietly, apparently not wanting to disturb the quietness of the room.

She swallowed and the familiar burn made her groan.

"What can I do?" he asked.

"Water," she croaked.

He started to rise, but she clutched his arms as her chest began to rise and fall in rapid succession. "Please don't go," she begged him with her raspy voice.

He pressed his lips against her head once more and she felt him shudder against her. "Baby, I'm not going anywhere. I'm just getting you some water, okay?"

He didn't move until she gave a quick jerk of her head. He gently untangled himself from her and stood, stretching the broad muscles of his back. Her heart fluttered at what his knowing about the baby could mean. He poured water into a cup with a straw and brought it to her. She placed the straw between her parched lips and groaned against the fire in her throat. The effort of drawing the water into her mouth seemed to ebb her strength, and she dropped her head back down. She was just so tired.

He sat in a chair next to the bed and retrieved her hands within his once more. He stared down into her eyes and smiled tenderly. Her chest burned with intense emotion.

"Why am I here?" she rasped.

"You were hit while crossing the street. Don't you remember?" he asked softly.

"No."

He brushed his knuckles against her cheek and her eyes once again filled with tears. He'd been tender like this before... right before he walked away, leaving Radcliff to scrape up the pieces and drive her home. She slowly rolled from her side to her back, her entire body groaning in agony. She removed her hands from his and immediately felt cold again. Her fingers began to tremble and she clutched at the blanket covering her lower body.

"How did you find out?" she asked.

He rubbed a tired hand across the strained lines on his face. "I told the nurse I was your husband. It was the only way they'd let me in here. The... uh, nurse told me not to worry, that the baby was fine. You can only imagine my surprise," he said, his eyes fraught with accusation.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't know how to tell you. We'd already broken up and... I... I was afraid."

"When did you find out?" he asked.

"The night of the ball."

"Why didn't you tell me yesterday at the museum? I could have protected you," he demanded.

"I don't understand... how could you protect me?"

He stared intently into her eyes with his jaw clenched, obviously at war within himself. Stiffly, he rose from the chair and moved to stand as he had been when she'd first wakened. He rubbed a hand against his neck.

"The hit-and-run wasn't an accident."

She lifted a hand to her quivering lips. "Why is someone doing this to me?" she whimpered.

He didn't answer for such a long time, she was afraid he wasn't going to. When he did, his question was so far removed from the conversation, she struggled to answer it.

"Have you decided what you're going to do about the baby?" he asked quietly.

"Do," she choked out, afraid of where he was going with this.

Again he hesitated. "Are you... planning on keeping the baby?"

She swallowed against his words and this time welcomed the lesser of the two pains, the greater being the huge hole in her chest. "Please don't take my baby from me," she begged raggedly.

He jerked his head in her direction. "I wouldn't take the baby from you. What kind of monster do you think I am?" He laughed bitterly at himself. "I guess I know the answer to that." He paused before asking, "So, you're not going to... get rid... of it," he asked gingerly.

"No," she choked out, horrified that he'd even suggested it.

He inhaled deeply, and with an intense straightening of his shoulders, he returned to the chair he'd recently vacated. He reached for one of her hands and held it once more between his own. "Promise me one thing, I beg you," he beseeched her.

She stared into his near desperate eyes. "If I can."

"No matter what happens... please don't keep my child from me."

She studied his face trying to understand his words, which were as ever, confusing. "I won't," she promised.

He exhaled and closed his eyes as pain washed over his face. With slow, gentle movements, he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. He lingered only briefly before pulling back. "Thank you," he whispered. "Try to get some sleep," he said as he tucked her hair behind her ears.

She stared at him for a long while. "Will you stay?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

He stared back just as intently, and his lips trembled slightly before he clenched his jaw to stem it. "I can't. I'm sorry."

Her chest felt hollow and on fire. She struggled against the pain of having this particular Band-Aid ripped off the wound yet again. She guessed in some far-off fantasy world, she'd hoped maybe he'd want to be a family with her and the baby. But would she really want him that way? While she'd like to lie to herself and say no, she knew she'd take him anyway she could get him. She swallowed painfully again and slowly withdrew her hands from his.

Raising her eyes to the ceiling, she whispered, "Rush, I really need you to leave now. I need for you to leave and not to come back. I won't keep the baby from you, but we'll set up something through an attorney. I... I can't have contact with you. It... hurts too much. Promise me you won't try to contact me again."

She stared straight ahead with unseeing eyes. After a few minutes, he leaned forward and brushed a lingering kiss against her head. He patted her clenched hands and whispered in reply, "Goodbye, Trinity," before walking soundlessly out the door.

At his departure, she curled into a ball and stared dry-eyed at his recently vacated seat. Well, it's just you and me, she thought to the little speck inside her belly. Tears trickled down her cheeks. This time, she didn't try to stop them.

* *

The entire right side of her body was covered in massive bruising. She ached from head to toe, but her baby was alive and that was all that mattered. Her father insisted she have constant security as she'd been attacked twice and vandalized just as many times. She didn't argue, it wasn't just about her anymore.

It'd been two weeks since Rush had walked out of the hospital, and as she'd asked, he'd made no attempt to contact her. She missed him. Missed what they'd had for such a brief point in time. She wished he'd have told her what the problem really was, but he'd always been so evasive. And now she was having a baby. Her father talked to her continuously about getting rid of the 'problem' and now she didn't even argue with him, she just ignored his snide comments.

The doctor had finally cleared her to go back to work and she went gladly. She was thankful Gavin had not re-distributed her projects, so she had plenty to keep her busy. She knew she needed to begin looking for her own apartment, but everything seemed so hard and she was always so tired.

She'd been back to work for nearly two weeks and she'd nearly gotten to the point where she could almost forget about Mace Lewis, her now constant companion/bodyguard. Mace was quiet and he could stand for hours on end and not speak at all. She barely even gave him a second thought anymore. At first, she'd been so afraid of running into Rush at the museum, she'd refused to go there her first week back at work, but now into her second week, she'd begun the familiar trek. Mace never commented, he just drove and followed at a discreet distance.

She was sitting on 'her' bench in the atrium enjoying the quiet and the beauty when her cellphone chirped, notifying her of an incoming text message. She didn't recognize the number but clicked it anyway. The text prompted her to click on one of two links, which she did.

She didn't understand at first what she was looking at, as the video's angle was odd. And it wasn't until she heard her father's voice that she realized who she was looking at. Her father was sitting at his desk in his office at home. He was having a heated discussion with someone, and after listening, she recognized Alex Masters' voice. She couldn't see Alex, so he must have been standing just beyond the camera's range. She turned the link off and restarted it and began to listen intently.

"I want to know what the hell is going on here, Arthur!"

"Whatever do you mean?"

There was a rustling of paper. "I want to know how this same picture, previously sent to you – threatening you – was then sent to your daughter. What are you playing at?"

Her father sighed deeply. "I don't think it's any of your concern. How I handle my daughter is my business."

"This is bullshit, Arthur! I won't be a party to this!"

The link ended abruptly. Her heart began to pound in her chest and her fingers began to tremble. Her father had sent the picture of the hung, dead woman to her? Why would he do that? Was he responsible for everything else as well? No, she refused to believe that. Numbly, she pressed the second link.

As before, Alex was apparently standing in her father's office and her father was sitting at his desk.

"Arthur, I don't know what kind of scam you're trying to run on your daughter, but my crew and I will not be a part of it."

"A part of what, exactly?" her father asked.

"Come on, Arthur! The minute she told me about the lightning bolt tattoo, I knew it was Shane. He has now since been fired. He told me how you paid him to ransack her room and destroy her paintings. Our services with you are now terminated. We run a legitimate business and do not want your kind of business."

As before, the link stopped abruptly. The blood rushed from her head and she was forced to hang her head between her knees for fear of passing out. Her chest burned as it worked double-time trying to suck oxygen into her body. Her father had had her paintings destroyed. Did he not realize how that would hurt her two-fold? First it scared her, then he'd taken something she loved and mangled it.

Sweat popped out on her forehead. She slapped a hand over her mouth and ran past Mace into the ladies room. She'd barely made it to the bathroom stall before everything she'd eaten came back up. She heaved and heaved until only dry-heaves remained. She laid her forearms on the commode and began to sob. He'd deliberately set out to scare her, but why? She couldn't understand why he would do such a thing. She'd always done everything he wanted. Her head snapped up. Until recently when she'd begun to date Rush.

She sat down heavily on the floor of the stall and wrapped her arms protectively around her middle. She remembered all the times he'd told her to get rid of the baby. Was her father responsible for the hit-and-run? She couldn't give a definitive answer to that question. Was he responsible for Rush breaking things off with her? Both he and Rush had said no, but Rush was always so evasive and seemed so torn.

She scraped herself off the bathroom floor. She went to the sink and wet a paper towel to try and repair her face. She scrubbed at the mascara streaked down her cheeks. She pressed the coolness of the paper towel against her eyes, trying to lessen their swollenness. She needed to know the truth... the real truth and not the half-measures she'd been given so far. If it hadn't been for the security feed... the security feed! The feed had to have come from her father's home office. She glanced quickly at her watch. If she left now, she'd have enough time to search for other disks before her father came home. All she needed was the period of time she was in the hospital the first time. Things between her and Rush had been fine until then.

She eased the door opened and saw Mace standing a few feet away. His back was to her and he was apparently on the phone. She slipped her shoes off and silently moved out of the room and into the hall. She padded quickly out of the museum before stopping to put her shoes back on. She hailed a taxi and directed it to her home.

She punched in the code which turned the security alarm off and entered the house. She called out as she entered. "Hello? Hello?" Not receiving an answer, she moved swiftly to her father's study. She searched quickly through every cabinet and every drawer, but couldn't find the security disks. She tried to determine where the camera was in the room. She moved about the room until she arrived at the spot which looked like the same view from her text. She looked above her and over her shoulder to the bookcase behind. She eventually saw the small blue, blinking light of the camera. Directly below it, was a wooden box. She reached up quickly and pulled the box down and snapped open the lid. There were dozens of silver disks in the box, all neatly labeled. She flipped through them until she reached the disk with dates that fell within the period of time she'd been in the hospital.

She opened her father's television cabinet and inserted the DVD into the player. She grabbed the remote and turned on the TV and the player. Skipping through the disk, she paused at the same pictures she'd received on her phone with her father and Alex Masters. She was close. She skipped and let it run quickly through hours filled with an empty room.

She slowed it again when she saw her father sitting at his desk with a brandy in his hands. He was leaned back in his chair lost in contemplation. She heard a knock on his door.

"Come in," he said loudly.

While she couldn't see her, Trinity heard Ms. Gibbons' voice. "Mr. Drayton to see you, sir."

Her father rose and the back of Rush's form filled the screen. She gasped at the truth she'd always known.

"What are you doing here, Drayton? Don't you think you've done enough already?"

She heard Rush's humorless laugh. "Me? What have I done?"

"Well, as my daughter is lying in the hospital, I think the answer is obvious."

"My family had nothing to do with what happened to Trinity. I don't know how much longer I can keep my grandfather reined in. He wants that information and he will stop at nothing to get it."

Trinity could see her father as he contemplated Rush. "And what do you want?"

"Me? The same as my grandfather. I want to know who put the hit on my father. The call came from your office. Was it you?"

Her father gave a small chuckle. "No. And I think you know that already."

"You're right. I do know that. So who was it?"

"Even if I knew, what makes you think I'd tell you anything?" her father asked derisively.

"Because, I happen to have a little piece of evidence of my own," Rush answered.

Her father's mouth twisted wryly. "Oh, pray tell. What would that be?"

"Tiko Mars," Rush answered.

"Oh yes. You've mentioned him before. I'm sorry but I don't know who that is, I'm afraid."

"But I know for a fact that you do. Combine him with the information my father uncovered regarding you, Tiko Mars, and the Embassy Fund, and I'd call that the winning trifecta."

She saw her father tense suddenly, but then tried to smooth his expression.

"Oh, yes. Your father and the investigation into the Embassy Fund. That's quite a blast from the past. And not the good kind, either."

"It took me some time, but I was able to round up not only Tiko Mars, but all four of those who helped perpetrate your heinous crime. Tell me. Was the whole point to kill your wife?"

She gasped at the same time she heard her father do the same.

"How dare you! I loved my wife. My dealings with the Embassy Fund were legitimate. Your father never uncovered anything about that because there was nothing to find!" he declared.

"What about the connection between you and former Judge Franklin?" Rush asked.

"My daughter's godfather and I go way back. Of course there's a connection."

She heard Rush's chuckle filled with mirth.

"You know, my grandfather never could understand why my father would turn his back on the family business to pursue a meager job in the District Attorney's office. But I will tell you one important thing I learned from my father's time there. He told me over and over... follow the money, Rush, always follow the money. So I followed the money in your case, and it was funny how that trail led me straight to you, Judge Franklin, and former ADA Martin Lord. It seemed the only one in your office not involved was my father."

"What makes you think he wasn't involved?" her father asked.

"Ah, good question. Unlike the rest of you vultures, my father didn't need the money. We have plenty."

She saw her father study Rush intently, obviously tiring of the game.

"What do you want, Drayton?"

"What I said. The name of the man who called the hit that took my father's life."

"And if I actually had that information, what would I get in return?" her father asked.

"Well, lets just say, your secrets will remain your secrets," Rush answered.

"What about my daughter?"

"What about her?"

"I want her off the table," her father said.

"She will be," Rush answered.

She took a haggard breath. She saw her father give Rush a speculative glance.

"Did you pursue Trinity for the sole purpose of obtaining this information?" her father asked.

Exhaling deeply, Rush answered, "Trinity was pursued to gain your attention."

"Well, you certainly have my attention. So what you're saying is, I give you the information you want and you will... what?"

"The connection between yourself, Franklin, Lord, and the Embassy fund remains forever broken."

"And what about Trinity?" her father asked.

"What about her?" Rush asked.

"If I give you what you want, I want you out of her life... for good."

Trinity gasped. She'd been so stupid... so very stupid. She watched the back of Rush's head as he nodded.

"Okay," he answered softly.

"She won't take it well. Are you sure you're up to it? You know she fancies herself in love with you," her father mocked.

Trinity couldn't stop the stain of shame which crept up her neck at her father's derisive statement.

"She's young. She'll move past it in time."

"You'll guarantee her safety?" her father asked.

"I will."

Her father stood. "Come back tomorrow and I'll have the information you request."

Trinity hit the pause button, as she could not longer see the screen through her tears. Rush had only pursued her to gain information from her father. It was never about her at all. She'd given herself to him and he'd taken what she'd offered and thrown it aside as if it were nothing. Was it his family that had her attacked in the alley? His family who hired the hit-and-run driver? Pain as she'd never felt before flooded her. She wanted to strike as she had been stricken.

Moving quickly, she withdrew the disk and gathered the whole box of disks. She rummaged through her father's desk until she found the keys to his SUV. She grabbed them and hurried to her room. She grabbed her suitcase and began slinging items into it. She packed all she could as she struggled to hold her emotions back. She snatched up the case and moved speedily through the hall. She stopped abruptly and turned back around. She set her case down and moved swiftly back to her room to grab her mother's picture and the box of disks. She shoved them into her oversized bag. Retrieving her suitcase, she went out through the garage and loaded her case into the SUV. She slipped into the front seat and snapped the seatbelt securely over her.

She drove quickly, intent on reaching her destination. She wheeled into the downtown business district and parked. She stood outside the Drayco building for several minutes, looking up at the mammoth structure. As she struggled to breathe, she walked quickly through the building's lobby and found a huge directory sign posted by the elevator. Rush's suite of offices was, of course, on the top floor. Stepping into the elevator, she pressed the button which would take her to the fifteenth floor. The movement of the elevator caused her stomach to become queasy again and she struggled to keep from gagging against the pressure.

As she stepped from the elevator into the elegant headquarters of Drayco International, she gasped at the sheer beauty of the surroundings. White marbled floor tile was met by smooth, shiny grey marbled wall tiles. The building was surrounded by windows which let in so much natural light it almost hurt her eyes. Plucking up her courage, she walked to the reception desk.

"I'd like to see Rush Drayton, please," she told the pretty brunette at the desk.

The brunette smiled at her politely. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No. Can you ask if he'll see me anyway, please?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but that's not how we do things here," she replied.

Tears of frustration gathered in her eyes. Her chin wobbled and her lips trembled. "Please, just call him," she begged.

The woman eyed her for a long time. "What is your name?"

"Trinity Grace."

"Please have a seat and I'll see if he is available."

Trinity moved to a seating area and sat down on the edge of a black leather couch. She began to shiver. She was so cold. She didn't think she'd ever be warm again. She was digging in her purse for a tissue when a door opened. She lifted her head and saw Rush moving quickly towards her. He looked tired. Her heart twisted in her chest.

As hard as she tried, she couldn't stop her chin from continuing to wobble. She stood to her feet as he approached. Her chest was heaving with the need for air. The room started to become oppressive and her head swam. Her legs were trembling and her face drained of color. As Rush reached her, her eyes rolled back and she slumped down just as she had at the charity ball. He caught before she hit the floor.

Chapter 12

She was lying on a slick, red leather couch when she regained consciousness. As she fluttered her eyes open, she saw Rush's concerned face above her. Her heart clenched in her chest and tears sprung into her eyes. Within seconds, her memory of the DVDs cascaded back into her mind. She jerked upright and the movement caused her head to swim. Springing to her feet, she swayed a little unsteadily. He rose with her and grabbed her arms to steady her.

"Careful," he murmured, concern marring his beautiful features.

She swung her right hand as hard as she could and slapped him across the face. "You bastard!"

Shock crossed his features, then confusion.

As tears began to streak down, she bunched her fist and launched herself at him, intent on inflicting as much pain on him as she had clawing at her on the inside.

"You sick bastard. I hate you. How could you do that to me? No matter what my father had done, I was innocent. I didn't do anything but love you and you've taken it and twisted it into something sordid and wrong!"

She beat her hands ineffectually against his stone-hard chest as she wailed. He stood still and allowed her to do it. Eventually, she ran out of steam and slumped to her knees as her anger ebbed away, leaving her empty. She wrapped her arms around her middle and rocked herself as she cried.

"Tell me why? Please tell me why?" she sobbed.

He sank to his knees as well and gathered her in his arms. She tried to pull away from him but he just tightened his grip. He pressed his lips against her head and whispered words of comfort to her. "Shh. Calm down. Everything will be okay," he murmured.

Sobbing, she cried, "No, it won't, you bastard. I don't know what to do anymore. Nothing is real. I believed in you. I believed the words you said. I defended you. And it was nothing but lies."

He was silent throughout her tirade. He just continued to hold her and rock her soothingly. Eventually, she calmed and he helped her up and sat her on the couch. He walked to a side bar, which included several decanters. He poured bottled water into a glass and handed it to her. She took it from him, numb now... numb and frozen.

She sipped the water and studied the glass. He sat beside her and ran both hands through his hair.

"Trinity, what's going on here?" he finally asked.

In an emotionless tone, she asked without looking up, "What's the Embassy Fund?"

She felt him tense beside her. "The Embassy Fund?" he questioned.

Her lips trembled. "Do NOT lie to me anymore. If you ever want to see your child, you will stop with the lies!"

He exhaled deeply and leaned back on the couch. "The Embassy Fund was a fund set up by the federal government. The monies for it were secured by using funds seized during illegal gains, such as drug busts and things like that. The fund was set aside for use by families who were negatively afflicted, such as in cases of kidnapping due to their high-profile position... such as your father."

"Did my father have my mother killed?" she whispered.

He rose to his feet and went to the window to stare out unseeingly. "No. I don't believe so."

"What did you find out between my father and James Franklin?" she asked.

He remained silent for several minutes. "Your father was the District Attorney and James Franklin was the sitting Judge. My father and Martin Lord were both Assistant District Attorneys in your father's office. Martin Lord somehow came upon the fund and talked your father into this elaborate scheme of kidnapping and ransom. As they needed a Judge's signature to obtain the fund for the ransom demands, your father turned to his old friend, James Franklin. I think the original plan was a simple kidnapping, secure the ransom, and then return you and your mother. But something went wrong and your mother was killed."

"How did your father become involved?" she asked.

"Because there'd been a death, the Governor requested my father investigate for any improprieties or signs of malfeasance. Unfortunately, my father found the link. Before he could turn in his findings, Judge Franklin had him picked up for allegedly consorting with prostitutes."

"Was it James Franklin who ordered the hit against your father?" she asked.

Rush shook his head, still staring out the window. "No, I think his intent was merely to ruin my father's credibility. Martin Lord was the one who made the call."

"How can you be so certain?"

"Your father had captured the call on a security camera. Martin Lord, in an attempt to throw any possible blame from himself, made the call from your father's office. Your father kept the tape for insurance," he replied.

Her lips began to tremble as she took in all the information. While her father's intentions hadn't been to kill her mother, his actions ultimately led to her death. If she closed her eyes right now, she could still feel the ropes binding her to that damned chair in that empty room where she'd been held captive for days. Didn't he care what kind of damage that would do to her?

She glanced at Rush standing as he had been for the last fifteen minutes. Her chest burned with hurt and humiliation. Just like with her father way back then, she'd only been a pawn for Rush Drayton. He'd never intended to have a relationship with her... and now she was pregnant by him. She chocked back a sob. On unsteady legs, she rose and began to walk towards the door. She paused when she got to it.

With her back to his, she asked with hurt dripping on each word, "Did you try to have me killed?"

"God, no!" He moved from the window and strode to her quickly.

She flinched at the touch of his hands on her shoulders. She began to open the door, but he reached over her and placed both of his hands against it, effectively keeping it closed and her captive.

"Was it all a lie?" she whispered.

"No," he whispered roughly into her hair, as he pressed his body up against hers.

"How can I believe you now?" she asked raggedly as she leaned her forehead against the door.

"I did everything in my power to keep you safe, you have to believe that! My grandfather was very determined to find my father's killer. He's been obsessed for years. A thug who'd shared a cell with Lars Thorn, the man who'd stabbed my father, contacted my grandfather about six months ago. He told him he had information for a price. It was then we began to put all the pieces together."

"Why me?" she whimpered.

He pressed his face into her hair. "I tried to detour my grandfather but he wouldn't let it go. When I heard about the attack on your father, I confronted my grandfather but he denied having any part of that. I was afraid of what methods he would begin using to pressure your father, so I agreed to get close to you. But from the very beginning, no matter how hard I fought against it, I found myself drawn to you. That first night we were together, when I realized just how innocent you really were, I tried to stop it then. I pleaded with my grandfather not to involve you in his vendetta, but he wouldn't listen. I thought as long as I pretended to go along with him, you'd be safe. And while I didn't want you involved, I couldn't stay away from you. But when you came back from Vail and your office was ransacked, I knew it had come from my grandfather."

"Which is why you flew back... not because of me," she said as tears slid down her cheeks at the loss of that tender memory. She'd been so stupid! She'd actually believed he'd cared so much for her that he'd dropped everything and ran back for her.

"But it was for you."

"Stop," she whimpered, not wanting to hear any more lies.

"It's true! You weren't at all what I was expecting. I thought you'd be a product of your father, but you were warm and funny, and so incredibly beautiful," he ended on a whisper.

She stiffened at his words. Her heart began to jump in her chest. But they were all lies... had been lies from the very beginning. She tried to shove the door open again, but he was just too strong.

"Please let me go," she whimpered.

"I can't. I tried, God, I tried. But you're in my blood... in my heart... in my very soul," he murmured brokenly.

"Who attacked me in the alley?" she asked, trying to harden her heart against him.

He exhaled sharply. "I don't know. I confronted my grandfather but he denied it. I... just don't know. But I couldn't risk you being hurt anymore, so I went and saw your father to beg, if necessary, for the information. He was willing to give it to me if I agreed to stay away from you. I couldn't refuse. I had to end it before you got seriously hurt... or worse."

With her heart tattered into small broken pieces, she asked, "What about the hit-and-run?"

She felt his neck muscles move up and down as he swallowed. "I don't know who was responsible for that. My grandfather already had the information he wanted by that time so he had no reason to do it. Maybe it was the same person who took a shot at your father... the ones who have been threatening him."

She let out a shuddering sigh. "I don't know what to believe," she said wearily.

She felt the movement of his throat again. "I know, baby," he whispered.

"Please don't call me that," she said as her chin began to wobble again. "I can't take it. It all hurts too much."

"I'm sorry. Please believe that I tried to protect you... that I love you," he said raggedly against her ear.

She shuddered. No! She'd not believe it. She couldn't believe. "I.... I need time to think. Please let me go," she pleaded.

He stepped back, and as she began to open the door, he laid a restraining hand on her arm.

"Wait. Before you go, take my card, my personal numbers are on the back. Please!" he begged in return.

She looked at the card in his outstretched hand for a long moment before taking it. But she knew she wouldn't be calling.

"Goodbye, Rush" she said softly as she walked out of his office.

Tears were streaming down her face as she climbed into the elevator. She'd gotten her answers. For the first time in months, it seemed she was on the same sheet of music as everyone else. Where did that leave her? She now had no one. She was alone and pregnant. She needed to get away... she needed to think.

She blinked against the bright sunlight as she exited the building. She was surprised to see it still shining. She felt she'd been inside the building for days instead of only an hour. As she stepped towards the parking lot, she raised the black SUV clicker on the keychain and pressed the unlock feature.

She was forced to step back when a brown postal service van turned into the parking lot. She'd taken one step forward when an ear-shattering explosion rocked her off her feet, the force so great it threw her several feet in the opposite direction. A huge fireball burst into the air and raining debris fell everywhere. Trinity threw her arms up to block the debris from hitting her.

With her ears ringing, she struggled to rise but her equilibrium was off and she staggered like a drunk. She saw people running out of the building, and while she could see their lips moving, she couldn't hear them. She looked back to the parking lot to see what had exploded. She walked around the brown van, and in the spot where she'd parked her father's SUV, now stood a flaming mess. She raised a shaky fist to her mouth.

"Oh, my God, oh, my God," she whimpered. She stood in indecision. She'd turned towards the Drayco building and had taken a couple of steps when someone came up behind her and placed a rag over her face. Instinctively, she inhaled deeply in panic. She struggled against the hold surrounding her, but in less than a minute, she was sagging against him. The assailant picked her up and walked briskly toward a waiting white utility van.

* *

Trinity's muddled mind couldn't make sense of her surroundings. She tried to move her hands to brush the hair out of her face, but she seemed to have no control over them. She had a sickening headache and her mouth was dry. She struggled to open her eyes, but it didn't help. Once again she tugged at her hands. Now that her brain was beginning to function fully, she realized her hands were tied behind her back. Panic flared as memories of the explosion and being grabbed from behind flitted across her mind.

Her stomach roiled when she realized she was tied to a chair. Flashbacks from when she'd been kidnapped as a child flooded her and filled her senses. Her brain seemed to be short-circuiting and the two began to become muddled together. She couldn't breathe. As she began to take in rapid breaths, she felt her head becoming fuzzy as she began hyperventilating.

She struggled to calm her breathing and concentrated on taking slower, deeper breaths. She needed to be calm. She needed to figure out where she was and who had her. Mostly, she needed to figure out how to get away. It wasn't just about her anymore. Her lips trembled when she thought about the little life growing inside her. She shielded her mind away from how that little life came to be.

She raised her head and looked about the room, but it was just too dark. Panic threatened to overwhelm her and she again forced herself to remain calm. She began to wiggle her hands, but the bonds were too tight; so tight, in fact, that she'd lost most of the feeling in them. She struggled to rise from the chair, but again the bonds were too tight. She hung her head. She was trapped as surely as she'd been as a child. She allowed the tears of frustration to fall.

How she wished she'd had a normal life where danger didn't seem to always be. She wished she'd met a normal guy and had a normal relationship with him – and with someone who wanted both her and her child. But the only thing Rush had wanted was the child. Please don't keep my child from me, he'd begged. She wondered if she'd be able to keep that promise.

She tried to push the memories away because they hurt too much, but her mind had a will of its own. Scene after scene replayed itself in her mind. The first time Rush had taken her back to his condo in Vail when he'd pulled away from her when she'd told him she was a virgin. I promise you'll thank me later, he'd said. When he'd rescued her at the club and he'd looked at her so incredulously, I've just about lost my damn mind with wanting you, he'd said. All the times he'd go from red-hot lover, to stone-cold and pensive. I didn't expect it to be like this, he'd said after the first time they'd made love. At the airport, in desolation, he'd said, I wish it could always be like this, she'd asked, why can't it be? and he'd answered, Things change... situations change. The perfect moments always slip away, it seems. In the hot tub, when she'd been so desperate to have him, he murmured to her, oh baby, what have I done? When she'd begun to feel controlled by him and had wanted to leave, he'd begged her stay. I only want you safe, he'd said. Haven't you ever had anything so precious, you'd do anything to protect it? he'd said. Trust me, I'll protect you, he'd said. On their last night as a couple, as he'd held her in his arms, he'd whispered to her, I'll protect you. I promise you'll be safe.

On the night of the ball, he'd held her close and said, I can't seem to stay away from you

I don't want to hurt you – I never intended for things to get this deep. I have to try and protect you the only way I can – I wish things could have been different.

Tears began to really pour from her eyes at the truth of Rush's words. He had tried to protect her. And now all he'd ever remember was her walking away from him, not believing in him, not trusting him. All those feelings of love, want, and need that she'd denied herself for him for the last weeks flooded her senses. Her chest ached as sobs were ripped from it. She wished he was here now to hold her, comfort her, and tell her everything would be okay. She'd been so close to happiness, and now poof, it was gone.

Fury at her father welled up inside her. Her stomach burned with the suppressed need to scream at him. This was his fault. She remembered his words, as well: You know she fancies herself in love with you, he'd said derisively. She was shocked at how cold of a human being he really was. Of course, what did she really expect from a man who would put his wife and daughter in harm's way for money? She wondered if he was behind this kidnapping?

Chapter 13

Exhausted and spent, somehow, she fell asleep. When she next opened her eyes, grey light was beginning to filter in through a grimy window. Her body was stiff from being in the same awkward position for such a long time. She wondered if anyone even knew she was missing. She assumed her father would know, but what good would that do? She now knew what she was worth to him. She tried to lick her lips, but her mouth was too dry.

She lifted her head and looked around her area of captivity. It appeared to be some sort of old abandoned warehouse. She looked down at the chair, searching for flaws she could use to her advantage but it was a straight-back, grey metal office chair. Even if she tumbled sideways, the chair wouldn't break. She hung her head once more as self-pity swamped her.

She was having a heavy discussion with herself about not giving up when she heard a chain being rattled against the metal of a sliding door. In the dimness of the space, she saw the door slowly slide open and a man step through it. She struggled to see him through the filtering light. After the man took a few steps in, she scrunched her eyebrows in confusion.

"Uncle Jim?" she questioned. Relief flooded her and tears of joy began sliding down her cheeks. "How did you find me?" she asked him when he drew level to her.

He smiled down at her sadly. He crouched down before her and tenderly touched her cheek. "How are you holding up, kid?"

Confusion marred her features. Why wasn't he untying her? Why wasn't he more excited?

"What's going on, Uncle Jim?" she asked him.

"Ah, honey. I wish there'd been another way. But you are what he holds most dear."

"I don't understand. Who?" she asked him, already dreading the answer.

"Your father."

"My father?" she parroted, trying to understand what he was saying.

"He has to pay for what he did."

"Pay for what?" she asked as she struggled to make sense out of what he was saying.

"Adrianna."

She started to ask who Adrianna was, then she remembered her father talking about an Adrianna. "Rush's mother?" she asked, even more confused.

James Franklin leaned forward and brushed a strand of hair behind her shoulder. "Adrianna was everything to me. I loved her. I wanted to marry her. She would have eventually come to me if your father hadn't come up with that stupid gimmick. Adrianna was like a frail butterfly. She just couldn't handle the pressure of her husband being killed. It was crazy, really. She blamed herself for his death... because she was in love with me." James rose and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. "I found her in the apartment I kept for her. She was lying lifeless on the bathroom floor, naked, looking straight up at me with those dead eyes. The white tiles covering the floor and walls of the bathroom made the vividness of the blood even more pronounced. It appeared she had started in the tub, slashed her wrists crudely, then perhaps changed her mind... but it'd been too late. She'd bled out on the floor. She must have flailed around, as blood was splattered on the walls and the side of the tub."

Trinity struggled to think through what he was saying. "But Martin Lord was the one who called the hit, not my father. Please help me, Uncle Jim!" she begged.

In an emotionless tone, he answered, "Martin Lord died of a heart attack a year ago. But someone has to pay for what they did to Adrianna. If not Martin... then your father."

"Please! I'm having a baby. Please don't hurt me and my baby. Please give my baby a chance!" she pleaded.

He turned his head to face her and gave her another sad smile. "Was Rush Drayton the father?"

She cringed at his choice of words, was Rush Drayton...

"Yes," she whispered.

He patted her cheek. "I am sorry about that. The child would have been a part of Adrianna. But it just can't be helped now."

She began to cry. "Please, Uncle Jim! Please untie me. Please let me go. I'm begging you."

"Don't cry. Your father will be here soon. I promise I won't let you suffer, okay?"

While his tone was rational, his words were insane.

"My father is coming here?" she asked as tears skidded across her cheeks.

"Of course. He needs to know how it feels to have something he loves ripped away from him, as I did. He needs to feel the pain – really understand what he did!"

She struggled to calm herself and think. She inhaled deeply and decided to change her tactics. "Uncle Jim, you said you wouldn't let me suffer, but my arms and hands are really hurting me. Can't you please untie them?"

He studied her silently for several minutes before moving behind her and slowly unfastening the cord which bound her hands. "Now be a good girl and I won't retie you, okay?"

"Okay," she murmured as she rolled her shoulders and rubbed her hands together to get the blood flowing back into them. As casually as she could, she looked around the vast garage for anything which could help her, but she didn't see anything.

"Would it be all right if I used the bathroom?"

Slowly he shook his head. "No, I don't think so. Your father should be here any time."

She stared at James Franklin intently. "What will you do when he arrives?" she asked.

"Extract payment," was his simple answer.

The ringing of James's cellphone was shrilling in the hollow metal of the building. Its unexpectedness caused Trinity to jump at its harsh sound.

"Ahh, speak of the devil," he said as he answered the phone. "Hello, Arthur... Yes, she's here... she's perfectly fine... Yes, it does... You should have thought of that before... No, there is no other way... Of course..."

James pulled the phone from his ear and handed it to her, "He wants to talk to you."

With her hands shaking, she took the phone. "Daddy?"

There was silence on the phone then a sob filtered through the line. "Oh, Trinity. I'm so sorry, honey. Are you all right?" her father asked.

At the sound of his voice, her lips began to tremble. "I'm okay," she said.

"I'm coming for you, stay strong," her father said.

She tensed at his words, and looking into James Franklin's crazed eyes, she straightened her shoulders. "No, don't. It won't matter. He'll kill me either way, then he'll kill you..." she said before James ripped the phone from her fingers and shoved her hard to the concrete floor.

"Arthur, you better show. I promise she'll suffer a much worse fate if you don't. You have one hour... no, one hour, and not a moment longer."

Trinity sat on the cold, hard concrete floor as tears slid down her cheeks. "Please don't do this, Uncle Jim. Please let it go. Haven't we suffered enough?"

Reaching to his back from underneath his jacket, he pulled a small handgun out and sat down heavily in the chair she'd just abandoned.

Trinity's blood ran cold at the sight of the weapon. This was really happening and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Anger filled her as feelings of hopelessness swamped her. For her entire life, others had been dictating how her course would be plotted. Well no more! She scrambled to her feet and started to launch herself at the deranged man in the chair. She might not make it out of here alive, but she was sick of playing the game the way others saw fit. If she was going to die anyway, what did it matter? He was going to shoot her anyway. Maybe she could stop him, however, from hurting her father.

She'd taken two running steps towards the sitting James when two things happened. First, James glanced up to see her advancing towards him, and from behind her she heard someone shout, "No, Trinity, don't!"

Her heart froze as she recognized the voice calling her name... Rush! No! Her head swung in the direction of the voice and saw him sprinting towards her. With her heart in her throat, she immediately turned her head back in time to see James Franklin lift the gun as he began to stand.

"No!" she screamed. She ran, and without thought of anything but stopping James from shooting Rush, she dove at him. As if in slow motion, at the precise instant she dove, James pulled the trigger and a shot rang out loudly in the metal building. Trinity felt a searing pain in her chest and she closed her eyes as fire seemed to tear through her. Her momentum in the air had her landing on James, and together they toppled to the ground.

The air was knocked out of her at the impact of their colliding bodies. She grunted as James struggled to push her off of him. She tried to wrap her arms around him, but couldn't quite get her body to obey. He shoved her over onto her back as she struggled to gasp air into the painful cavity of her chest. She watched helplessly as Rush slammed into James. She allowed her head to loll to the side, but soon they were out of her range of sight. She could hear them scuffling just beyond her, and despair filled her. Not Rush! Please, dear God, not him.

She struggled to call out to Rush to tell him to get away... to save himself, but tiny, gurgling bubbles were all she could force out of her lips. Suddenly, a shot rang out and then there was no sound except for the wind howling against the metal building, causing it to creak and moan. She gasped at the vice squeezing her heart. She again tried to call out, but as tears streaked over the side of her face, those same gurgling noises were all she could produce.

She allowed her eyes to close against the pain. Her breathing was becoming labored, and her chest was in agony, but nothing compared to the searing pain in her heart. Snatches of her previous thoughts surged through her mind... Rush moving her effortlessly around a dark dance floor... Rush looming over her the first time they'd made love... Rush holding her hips as he directed her movements in the hot tub... Rush as he ran his thumb across her lower lip...

She groaned against the pain of her last images of him... of his anguished face as she railed her fists against his chest... of his lips against her hair when he'd trapped her between his hard body and his office door... of him begging her to believe him...

As weightless as she'd been in her dream with her mother where she drifted to the bottom of the lake, she felt her body sinking. It was calm and peaceful. The pain and anguish she felt began to dissipate as she surrendered to the beckoning fingers of darkness.

* *

Pain came crashing down on her. She struggled to avoid it, begging to surrender back to the depths of darkness. The paramedic in the ambulance forced the ventilator mask over her face even as she struggled to twist away. He held her still as he fastened a restraint over her head to hold it place, but still, she thrashed about. She didn't want to be here. She longed for the anonymity of nothingness. She didn't want to know... to feel... to be. She felt someone on the other side of her squeeze her hand tight. She tried to pull away... tried to curl herself into a protective fetal position, but tight bands held her firmly in place. There were no more tears... no more sobs... no more anything. Slowly, the medication inserted into her IV drip expanded into her system, easing her back into the blessedness of oblivion.

She woke as she had so many times before, lying on a hospital bed looking up at the blank screen of a television mounted on a wall opposite the bed. Past experience told her where she was and as memories from the warehouse began to filter into her mind, she curled her fists into the sheets of the bed. As she had before, she lolled her head but this time saw her father asleep in the chair next to her. A myriad of feelings encompassed her. She was happy to see him alive, but angry and hurt at all she'd learned about him. In his weird need to control her, he'd allowed terrible things to be done. And ultimately, he was responsible for the death of her mother. She flinched as she remembered the gunshot she'd heard right before she'd passed out. Had Rush made it out alive? Was their baby still intact?

She tried to reach a hand out to her father so she could ask him, but found her arms strapped to the bed. When she tried to call to him, she realized she had a respirator tube inserted into her throat. She continued to stare at her sleeping father in the quietness of the night, willing him, by the sheer force of that stare, to wake up and talk to her. But he didn't. Anxiousness clawed at her. The steady drip, drip, drip of her IV, no matter how hard she fought it, sent her off once again into the thankfully dreamless world of sleep.

* *

Sunlight was streaming into her room the next time her eyes fluttered open. She turned her head, but found the chair empty. As they had been the night before, her arms were still strapped down and the respirator tube still in her throat. She struggled to clear her hazy mind. Flashes of James Franklin's deranged face wavered before her eyes and she shook her head to get rid of them. She didn't want to think about him right now.

A sound at the door had her turning her head. A doctor dressed in the standard white coat walked in, reading a chart. He lifted his head and glanced at her. He smiled when he realized she was awake.

"Good morning," he said before allowing his eyes to drift back to the chart.

She had so many questions and was frustrated at her inability to ask them.

The doctor made a notation on the chart before setting it aside to focus on her. He uncoiled a stethoscope from his neck and inserted one end into his ears before placing the other against her chest. He moved it around to different locations on her chest. Seemingly satisfied with what he found, he pulled away and made another notation on her chart.

"I'm going to get a nurse and we can remove the respirator tube, all right?" the doctor asked her.

Doing the only thing she could do, she nodded her head.

In what seemed an eternity, the doctor and the promised nurse reentered her room. Trinity recognized the nurse from her two previous stays in this hospital. The doctor positioned himself on one side of her and the nurse on the other.

"When I count to three, we're going to pull this out. You need to be perfectly still and exhale as hard as you can," the doctor said to her. "One, two, three..."

The nurse held her head as the doctor grabbed the respirator plate at her mouth and began sliding the tube from her throat. She struggled against the natural inclination to gag against the pressure. The tube felt as it had barbs attached to the ends as it scraped and seared her throat. Then it was out. Trinity sucked air into her lungs and they burned like fire.

She lifted frantic eyes to the doctor and rasped, "My baby?"

"Fine for now," the doctor smiled and said. "We'll keep a close eye, but the baby is fine for now."

Trinity let her head fall back as tears drifted out of the corners of her closed eyes. She opened them back up when the doctor began speaking to her.

"The nurse will remove your restraints, but you have to promise to remain on your back for now. You sustained a gunshot wound to your chest and I don't want you moving around, okay?"

She nodded her head and the doctor gave her one last pat of assurance on her arm before giving a nod of go ahead to the nurse. The nurse removed the straps, adjusted her pillows, and poured water into her cup before leaving.

Trinity moved her now-free arms to place her hands protectively over her stomach. Her baby had made it. She wondered who else had come out of the warehouse. She closed her eyes once more as an endless stream of tears poured down her cheeks.

A sound at the door had her glancing quickly in its direction. Her father stood in the doorway looking more haggard and unkempt than she'd ever remembered seeing him in the past. He met her eyes uncertainly before entering the room. He stood quietly by her bed, obviously struggling with what to say.

"Trinity... I... you have to understand... there were outlying circumstances... there were reasons I did the things I did," her father stammered.

Her hearts felt frozen in her chest. Even now, he wanted to convince her of his innocence. As if there could be any way he could explain away what had happened.

She lifted a hand to stop him. She was only interested in one thing right now. "What happened at the warehouse? Was Rush... hurt? Did he make it out? Where is he?" her chest burned as she struggled to gather oxygen into it.

Her father blinked his eyes rapidly at her words. It was almost as if he believed Rush to be of little importance compared to what he was expounding upon.

"Rush Drayton is perfectly fine. I have no idea where he is, probably at work."

His words wounded her. She was lying in a hospital and Rush was at work? Clutching the sheet between her fingers, she struggled to calm her erratic breathing. She meant that little to him?

"Tell me what happened at the warehouse," she whispered.

Her father ran a hand through his less than perfect hair. "Drayton called me when the SUV exploded in his parking lot. Your... body hadn't been found, so we assumed someone had you. It was a truly terrifying time for me, I promise you. To not know if your child is alive or dead is horrific!" her father exclaimed.

She looked away from him as disgust swamped her. "You should be used to it by now. You've orchestrated just that scenario over and over," she replied tonelessly.

He gasped at her words. "Trinity Allura Grace! That simply isn't fair... or true."

She sighed, suddenly tiring of him. "Please continue."

He eyed her intently before complying with her words. "Jim called me. I can't begin to explain how shocked I was. I had no idea. He'd gone completely off his rocker. He blamed me for the death of Adrianna Drayton. I couldn't believe it. He told me he was responsible for my shooting and for both your attack in the alley and the hit-and-run. He said he'd taken you and if I wanted to see you alive again, I had to meet with him alone the next morning. He was to call me to set up where and when. Drayton happened to be with me when Jim called. He made some calls and got in contact with people he knew who could help us track you down by using Jim's phone triangulations. From his phone call, we were able to pinpoint a wide grid, but we need a narrower one, so I called him early that morning. We were closer than we thought. Drayton found the warehouse and went in to get you. And well... you know what happened after that. Drayton tried to wrestle the gun away from Jim, and the gun went off... killing Jim."

The burning in Trinity's chest had nothing to do with gunshot wound. Rush had come so close to dying because of her and her father.

Closing her eyes, she whispered, "I need to see him."

"See who?" her father asked obstinately.

"Rush... please. I need to see him."

Silence met her words. "I'll make a call," he eventually said.

"I'm really tired now. Do you mind closing the door behind you?" she said.

Once again, silence met her words. "Of course, dear," he said before he leaned down to press a kiss to her temple.

She shrank from his touch.

* *

Trinity was in the hospital for almost two weeks before she was finally released. Rush Drayton never came to the hospital, nor returned any of her frantic calls. She guessed she deserved his isolation. But it hurt so very bad. The fire in her chest burned at an excruciating level of pain. Her father was another constant source of pain. She'd finally had him banned from her hospital room. She might one day be able to forgive him, but it wouldn't be this day.

Dealing with the police was an utter nightmare and she'd been forced to tell and re-tell the story more than a dozen times to just as many people.

She'd been thankful when Gavin Lassiter had stopped by the hospital to see her. He'd not only assured her she'd have her job when she recovered, but he'd helped her find a place to live when she was released. She couldn't go back to her father's house. She'd had all her belongings moved to her new place. It had cost a fortune, but was well worth it.

On the day of her release, she'd called a taxi to take her to the as of yet unseen, new apartment. She'd thanked all the doctors and nurses for their tremendous care and now sat patiently in the hospital foyer in a wheelchair, waiting on her taxi. She was folding and refolding the tissue between her fingers, staring unseeingly at a potted plant at the hospital's entrance when a familiar face appeared at her eye level. Hunter Amhearst was squatted down in front of her, resting a plaster-casted arm on his knee.

Her eyes lit up. "Hunter! What in the world happened to you?"

He grinned at her question. "I could ask you the same question. Me... well, I guess you could say I won't be skiing again anytime too soon. I having this thing," he said as he thumped the hard outer cast, "removed today. Yea!"

"Oh no! How awful. I'm so sorry. I'm glad it's well enough to have the cast removed," she exclaimed.

"What about you?" he asked.

She wasn't sure how to answer him. "Well... I guess I won't be skiing again anytime too soon either."

He gave have a quizzical look. "Are you okay?"

She nodded slowly. "I will be. Maybe not today, but eventually."

Parroting her motions, he nodded slowly as well. With another grin, he said, "So... where have you been hiding the ever popular Mr. Drayton? I haven't seen him around lately. Would you happen to know why that would be?" he asked in a tone which indicated she was the reason for his disappearance.

She looked down at the now-shredded tissue between her fingers. "No, I haven't seen him in a while myself." Needing to change the subject, she asked, "How's things with you and Sundra?"

He again gave her another quizzical glance. "You know about holiday romances... they hardly ever last past the holiday."

She shook her head and glanced away as her eyes misted. "No, they usually don't." She saw her taxi pulling up in the circular drive of the hospital. "Well, that's me. Good luck today, Hunter," she said.

He stared intently into her eyes for a long time. "Good luck to you, Trinity. Here, let me help you into your cab."
Chapter 14

The next six months weren't easy. The only thing which kept Trinity Grace going was the life growing inside her. She'd refused contact with her father and had begun to rebuild her life the way she wanted it. The daytime hours were easy to fill with busy things of work and making plans for her and her child. The nighttime hours were the hardest. Her life seemed so empty then. She missed Rush and wished for the millionth time she'd given him a chance... had believed him when she'd had the chance. The baby moving beneath her breasts let her remember she'd always have something of him with her.

Today she was celebrating. She'd officially completed her thirty-second week of her pregnancy. Today was the day she was going to open the envelope the doctor had given her a couple months previously telling her the sex of the child. She didn't know why she'd decided to wait until she'd completed her seventh month to open the big reveal, but it was what she'd decided... and today was the day.

She'd made reservations at Cole Bairs, an exclusive French restaurant. She'd made the reservations months in advance and tonight was the night. She dressed in her only dressy maternity black dress, and slipped her feet, unfortunately into a pair of black flats – high heels were certainly out at this stage of her pregnancy.

She entered the restaurant with a lilt in her step. Tonight she was excited, for the first time in ages. They sat her at a table for two towards the back of the restaurant. Cole Bairs was fashioned in a historical building which had been converted into an exclusive... meaning expensive... eating establishment. They'd incorporated the original brick walls into their décor with huge fireplaces and small round tables with bright white tablecloths.

She sat smoothing her dress underneath her while snapping the crisp, white napkin over her stomach. Normally, the napkin would sit gently across her lap, now it lay across her small baby-bump. She glanced idly around the room and noticed all the tables seemed to be occupied by couples, some young, some old. As melancholy started to overwhelm her, her waiter appeared at her table. As she was celebrating, she ordered a glass of champagne.

She removed the sealed envelope from her purse and set it down next to her plate. When the waiter brought her the champagne, she looked sadly into the bubbles wishing she wasn't forced to celebrate this alone. This was something that normally should be shared by two. She took a small sip of the almost bitter liquid and let it slide down her throat. She immediately set the glass away... she was pregnant after all.

With fingers that trembled, she picked up the butter knife from the place setting and ran it under the edge of the envelope. She pulled the folded paper out and took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly before unfolding the paper. With glassy eyes, she glanced quickly over the paper. A boy, she was having a boy. Her heart grew and hammered in her chest. She had a son. She swallowed at the thought of actually being able to visualize her child... her son. She wiped frantically at the tears beginning to slide down her cheeks.

As big as the moment was for her, she looked around the restaurant to see if anyone else had noticed. But she was alone in her momentous joy. She struggled against the pain of being alone. She lifted her napkin to dab at her cheeks. The waiter came and took her order and quietly departed. She'd just returned from what seemed a continuous journey to the ladies room and was smoothing the napkin across her lap when she raised her eyes and froze.

Sitting across the room from her was Rush Drayton. What were the odds? The only time she'd seen him was in the gossip section of the newspaper. He'd had an endless stream of women on his arm since the last time she'd seen him in his office the day she'd been kidnapped by James Franklin. The day he'd begged her to believe he loved her. And here he was on the biggest day of her life... of their lives, sitting with another nameless woman in a fancy French restaurant.

Her heart hammered against her ribs at the pain of being this close to him. He was still as beautiful as he'd ever been. His date, a young, blonde woman, looked up into his face and apparently felt the same way Trinity had always felt... so enamored and overwhelmed, wanting so much to hold on to and cling to something that couldn't ever really be possessed.

She watched as he listened politely to whatever she was saying, but even from this distance, Trinity could see how detached he held himself. She'd assumed it was only her who brought out those feelings. The woman said something which seemed to bring his attention back to her as he gave her a smile of apology and leaned in and kissed her cheek.

Trinity gasped at the pain which seared her. She couldn't do this. She couldn't sit here and watch him touch another... kiss another. She removed enough money out of her purse to pay for the champagne and rose awkwardly to her feet. She looked around almost frantically for another way out, but knew with a certainty she'd have to pass right by him. Swallowing hard, she grabbed the folded paper from the table and moved swiftly through the restaurant. As she drew near Rush's table, she struggled to not look at him... she couldn't look at him. It'd kill her to see his gentle eyes on another.

But as with anything to do with him, her body had a mind of its own. As she drew near, she lifted her eyes and inhaled deeply when her eyes met his. Her steps faltered at the intensity of his gaze. She watched as his eyes moved over her body, then shifted back quickly as if startled. For reasons she refused to analyze, as she passed his table and his seemingly stunned expression, she carefully laid the folded paper in her hand down next to him. Without speaking, she moved passed him and silently moved out of the restaurant.

Thankfully, sitting right outside the restaurant, was a small wooden bench. She sat and dialed the taxi service to pick her up. She closed her eyes against the pain of seeing him again. She regretted the impulse to place the baby's gender findings down in front of him. He'd made it clear he didn't want anything to do with her and their child. She supposed she should be relieved he wasn't trying to take the baby away from her. But still, it would have been nice to share the day-to-day stressors of being pregnant and alone.

Tears began to stream down her face as pain sharper than any knife pierced her. Unable to sit still any longer, she stood awkwardly to her feet and began to move down the sidewalk. She'd gone only a few steps when she heard his voice behind her.

"Trinity?"

She froze at the word. No! She couldn't face him, be in the same space with him. It would certainly kill her... if not kill her, it would drive her insane. She stumbled only briefly before beginning to walk quicker down the sidewalk.

"Trinity!" he said with more force and closer to her.

As the tears continued to fall, she picked up her pace until she was practically running from him. He caught her shoulders and swung her around to him. She stumbled into chest and he wrapped his arms around her. She struggled to push against his chest.

"Please, I can't... I don't want to see you. Please," she pleaded.

He crushed her against his massive chest and held her tightly as she whimpered.

"Oh, my God. Trinity, how could you do this to me? You promised you wouldn't keep the child from me," he all but shouted even as he held her close.

Through shuddering sobs, she said, "I wouldn't keep you from him. I couldn't do that to him."

"I thought... I mean, your father... I don't understand. Please tell me what's going on," he demanded roughly against the top of her head.

She stilled at the mention of her father. With her chest heaving, she pushed against his chest and he let her go back as far as his arms would allow.

As she swiped at the tears on her face, she asked, "What about my father?"

Rush stared down into her upturned face, so many emotions seemed to cross his features before he answered, "He told me you'd gotten... rid of the baby. That you didn't want any reminders of me."

All the oxygen gushed so quickly from her chest, she became dizzy and lightheaded. With more sins being added to her father's incredibly long list, Trinity began to swat weakly at Rush's hands, trying ineffectively to get away from him. She couldn't look at him right now. Embarrassment over the lies her father had told, and the fact Rush had believed that it would be that easy for her to get rid of their baby. He'd left her when she'd needed him the most, and apparently, according to the papers, it'd been easy for him to move on.

"Well, I didn't. Please let me go. I need to go. Please let me go," she rambled as she struggled against his arms. He tightened his grip and she fought against him harder. "I need to go, I can't be here, please let me go," she cried.

As the taxi pulled up close to the curb, she wrenched herself from his arms and dove into the taxi as he called her name. She looked back and saw him run his hands through his hair in exasperation.

As she lie in bed that night, tears finally spent, she knew she was being unfair to Rush. The blame lay with her father. He'd lied to both of them. Pain squeezed agonizingly at her heart. She didn't know what to do. The pain of opening the newspaper and seeing him with an arm wrapped around a different woman each week on the society page had been more than she could bear. She didn't know if she could stand to have continual contact with him as they raised a child together... a son. She wondered why her father felt the need to lie to Rush about the baby? What purpose did it serve for him? She just didn't know.

The next day, feeling both vulnerable and confused, she left her office at noon and headed to the museum. The late summer weather was both hot and humid. She lifted a hand to pull her hair away from her nape as she walked. She waved to Antonio, who was manning the turnstile at the museum, and headed to the atrium area. As she'd done a thousand times in the past, she sat down gingerly on the stone bench and soaked in the beauty of the space. She was excited as they just installed a new statue. It was a replica of the Pieta. The smooth marbled lines of Jesus's limp body in the arms of his mother was the most amazing thing she'd ever seen. She could sit and stare at it for hours... and she had.

She placed a hand at the center of her back and rubbed against the discomfort found there. She was tired today due to a nearly sleepless night the night before. She still wasn't sure what to do about Rush. No, that wasn't true. She knew she wouldn't keep him away from his child if he wanted to have that relationship. She guessed the easiest way was to simply let the lawyers hash out the details.

She closed her eyes and rolled her shoulders. She could hear people moving about the room looking at different pieces of art.

She tensed at the husky voice directly behind her. "I'm told the great Aristotle said there is no great genius without a mixture of madness."

She clenched her teeth to stop her lips from trembling. She opened her eyes and stared straight ahead. She couldn't formulate a response to him, so she said nothing.

"If that's true, then I must be an Einstein, as I think I'm certifiably insane," Rush continued as he moved around the bench to sit next to her.

Still she continued to stare straight ahead. She struggled to swallow the huge lump forming in her throat.

Rush leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. From her periphery, she saw him turn his face towards her. "I've missed you," he said huskily.

She couldn't stop her chin from wobbling at his words. She dropped her gaze from straight ahead to her lap, but still didn't answer. She knew she'd never be able to stop the tears if she opened her mouth. She did not want to cry in front of him again.

"I went by your father's house last night to talk to you. He told me you'd moved out, but he didn't know where you'd moved. I wasn't sure whether that was a lie or not," he said.

"It... it's not a lie. I wouldn't tell him," she finally answered softly.

"Trinity, I'm sorry. When your father told me that you'd... told me what he told me, I felt betrayed. But more than that, I thought it was your way of tying up all your loose ends, so to speak. Loose ends you deserved to tie up. I was hurt. But I thought you were justified in your actions after the way things played out between us. I wasn't surprised you didn't want anything to do with me."

"I don't," she whispered, knowing it was a lie but needing to strike out at him.

He inhaled sharply. "I deserve that." He was silent for several minutes. "Trinity, I don't know what to do here. I'll do whatever you want. Please know I did everything I could to protect you... and I'll continue to do so. Whatever you need is yours. I love you, Trinity."

She sucked in a staggering breath at his words. "Please don't say things like that," she said raggedly.

"It's true," he said simply.

"You deserted me," she whispered.

He pressed his fingers against his eyes and clenched his jaw. "I'm sorry. I thought it was what you wanted."

Trinity absently rubbed a hand against her protruding belly. Rush watched her with agonized eyes. She turned her head and caught his expression. She couldn't stop the sharp intake of air. He looked as she felt... battered and bruised.

She turned her eyes away from his and dropped her hands from her stomach. "When Jim had me tied up in the garage, I thought about what you'd told me that day in your office; about how you tried to protect me and I started to believe you." She lifted a hand to wipe across her trembling lips. "And then in the hospital, like a fool, I kept waiting for you and you never showed... you wouldn't take any of my calls... I was devastated," she ended on a whisper. With nervous fingers, she tucked stray hairs behind her ears. "I didn't know about my father obviously, although I should have guessed." She turned to him and looked at him fully for the first time, noting his drawn features and the dark shadows under his eyes. "But even though he told you that... you left me there... like it didn't matter... like I didn't matter – was of such little importance to you. And now you show up. If it's about the baby, don't worry, I'll never keep him from you. I'll have my attorney draw up the papers."

He turned his eyes away from hers. With his shoulders slouching as if in defeat and in an emotionless tone, he said, "I let you walk away that day in my office. I let you go and you were almost killed. I should have asked about your security detail, but I was so rattled I didn't think about it. It made me doubt my ability to keep you safe. And then when I saw Franklin lift that gun and shoot you, I realized in that moment how much it would hurt to lose you. I was a coward. I thought you gave me an easy way out... and I took it. I'm not proud of that. But when I saw you last night, I realized I'd take what I could get. Please give me another chance. I do want our child... but I'm greedy, I want it all."

She winced as the baby moved his feet into one of her ribs.

"What's the matter?" he asked, concerned.

"Nothing, the baby moved."

His eyes blinked rapidly for several moments. "Can I... would you mind... if I felt it?"

Hesitantly, she gave a quick nod. He placed a hand lightly against her belly. She placed her hand over his to move it where the baby was kicking. He jerked upright when he felt the movement underneath his hand. He dropped to his knees in front of her, never minding the other people milling about or the fact he was in his high-priced suit. He cradled her belly within his two hands and waited until he felt the movement again. He lifted glassy eyes up to hers.

"Our son," he whispered.

She nodded with a watery smile.

He leaned forward and pressed his cheek against her stomach, smiling when he felt the resounding thump against his face. He wrapped his muscular arms around her thickened waist and rubbed his face against her belly.

"Please give me another chance.... give us another chance," he pleaded with her.

She lifted a hand and tentatively threaded it through his hair. He turned his godlike face into it and pressed a kiss against her palm. "I'm scared," she admitted on a shuddering breath.

He rose and sat down beside her. He turned to her and palmed her cheek and lightly pressed his lips against hers. "Have dinner with me," he demanded in the same tone he'd used the first time he'd asked her to dance. This was the man she remembered from Vail. The aggressive, take-no-prisoners man.

With her heart pounding, she gave him a hesitant nod of her head.

He smiled. "I'll have Radcliff pick you up from work." He rose and once again pressed his lips against hers. He gave her one last pat on her cheek and turned to walk away. He'd taken a couple steps before turning around to add with a grin, "Don't forget your toothbrush."

She stared after him for a long time. Could she trust him? Was it her he was after or only the baby? She thought of the long line of women he'd been photographed with in recent months. Even if she did believe him, how long would a wealthy, handsome man like Rush Drayton be interested in her? He'd only been interested in her in the beginning to get next to her father. How could she ever be sure of his true intentions now? So many questions, so few answers.

* *

She shivered in the back of the towncar as Radcliff drove towards Rush's house on the bay. It wasn't the temperature in the car, which was set at a perfect seventy-two degrees, it was the fear of moving forward. It was the fear of wanting something so badly but not being confident of ever being able to obtain it.

She inhaled deeply when the car swung into Rush's circular drive. She accepted Radcliff's assistance as she alighted from the car. She stood for a moment in the entryway of the grand house and almost turned back around to have Radcliff take her home. Indecision and fear swamped her. She didn't think she could do this. She'd believed him before and he'd crushed her. It wasn't just about her anymore; she had a child to think about now.

She'd taken a step back when the grand ornate entry door opened. Rush stood framed in the doorway. He changed from his expensive suit and was now dressed casually in worn jeans and a pearl-grey linen shirt. The shirt was untucked and the long sleeves were rolled up, revealing his muscular forearms. His dark hair was swept to the side and his hazel eyes looked more green than brown tonight. He was smiling down at her. As unsure as she felt seemed to be in stark contrast to his confidence.

She gave him a hesitant smile in return. He reached forward and tugged her hand, urging her into the house. He closed the door and moved to her smoothly. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her as close to him as her belly would allow. He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her sweetly. She closed her eyes against the twist of her heart the touch of his lips brought. She didn't know if she could endure being hurt again. The last time nearly destroyed her.

He led her into the vast living room with its high vaulted ceilings and huge windows. He sat on the couch and she followed, sitting a little ways from him. This reminded her of the last time she'd been here when he'd told her he didn't want to see her anymore. She shivered against the memory.

He moved a little closer to her and touched her arm. "Are you cold?" he asked.

"No."

"Can I get you something to drink? I have juice, water... anything you'd want, really."

"No, I'm fine."

He studied her face intently before brushing the back of his fingers against her cheekbone. "I've missed you," he said softly.

His words tore at her. He'd said them before. "I've seen your picture in the paper a lot recently," she said as she glanced away from his intense stare.

"You have?" he asked as he moved a little closer to her on the couch and began to stroke his fingers over her shoulder.

She cleared her throat against his touch. "Yes, it would seem you've been too busy to miss me. What, with the stream of women you were photographed with."

His fingers stilled against her skin. After a second, he leaned forward and pressed his lips softly against the rapid pulse beating in her neck. He scraped his lips up to her ear and whispered, "They meant nothing."

Raggedly, she replied, "If you told them that, I can see why you had to date so many."

He stilled his lips at her words. He drew back and ran a hand over the side of his head. "Trinity, I don't know what to say here. I have no defense. I wish I could say none of it was true, that I hadn't made some very serious mistakes during that time, but I did. I was a pig. I used those women to help me get over another one... you. But they weren't you, and no matter what I did, I couldn't close my eyes and not see your face. It was your skin I longed to touch... to taste. Your body I wanted to be intertwined with... but I didn't think it'd ever be an option. And so, I flitted along from one woman to another."

Trinity stared down at the beaded bracelet she wore as she listened to his words, her arms surrounding her protruding belly. "What do you want from me?" she asked him softly.

Without hesitation he tugged her chin up with his fingers to meet his eyes. "I want you in my life and in my bed, every day and every night. I want to build a life with you and our child. I hope one day, when you're ready, to have more children. I want you happy and safe. I want you to love me and trust me and believe that I'm desperately in love with you."

She closed her eyes at the intensity of his gaze. "What happens when you change your mind... lose interest...?"

"I won't," he said emphatically.

"How can you be so sure?"

He moved his face close to hers. "Because you're what I want." He slid his lips over hers silkily. "All I want," he whispered before licking his way into her mouth. He weaved the fingers of both hands into her hair and pulled her to him roughly, desperately seeming to want to imprint his need and desire onto her... into her.

She gasped at his intensity and slid her tongue against his as she laid her hands against his massive chest and breathed in his familiar scent. He pushed her back gently onto the couch and leaned over her as he trailed kisses over her jaw and down her neck. He captured her moan when he ran his hands over her swollen breasts. A movement against his ribs caused him to jerk up abruptly. He lifted her shirt and ran his hands over the skin covering their child. The baby kicked against the warmth emitted from Rush's hands. He leaned down and placed soft, tender kisses against her protruding belly. He whispered to the life growing inside her, promising him love and protection.

Love exploded in her chest as she watched him kiss and speak softly to their child. She didn't think she'd ever loved him or wanted him more than she did right at this moment. With gentle hands, she pushed her shirt down and him away. He raised confused eyes to hers. She rose and held her hand out to him. With his eyebrows knitted together as he struggled to understand her intent, he placed his hand in hers. She tugged against his hand until he rose. Silently, she padded slowly down the hall, pulling an incredulous Rush behind her.

When they entered the darkened master bedroom, with her back to him, she withdrew her shirt over her head. She reached behind herself to unfasten her bra, but he brushed her hands away to unfasten it then slowly slipped the straps down her arms as he bent to press kisses against the arch of her neck and across her shoulders. She shivered at his touch. He slipped his arms around, surrounding both her and their son in his warm embrace. He ran his hands over her stomach and she leaned into him. They stood just like that for a long while.

She turned in his arms and he captured her face within his hands and kissed her deeply. He pulled his mouth away from hers. "Are you sure about this? I don't want to hurt you or the baby," he murmured against her lips.

"You won't," she murmured in reply.

"I love you, Trinity Grace," he said as he brushed her hair behind her shoulders.

"I love you, too," she whispered back. He closed his eyes as the intensity of her words flowed over him.

"Stay with me tonight," he said against her lips as he slid his hands against her skin.

"Okay," she whispered against lips.

His fingers found the scar from the gunshot wound and he lowered his lips to press them lightly there. He inhaled sharply and grabbed her head fiercely within his hands and kissed her desperately – trying to banish the nightmare of that day from their memories.

"Stay with me always," he murmured.

With a grin against his lips, she answered, "I'll need more toothbrushes."

The End

~~Other books by LR Potter~~

The Hourglass Killer Trilogy:

Dwindling Sands

Shifting Sands

Cascading Sands

The Hourglass Killer Trilogy – All three books together

The Color of Snow Series: (Paranormal)

Snow Blind

Snow Flurry

Memory Lapse – A Slater Vance Novel

Three of a Kind: Tales of Luck, Chance & Misfortune – (Short story – Lucky Strike)

Flawed Beauty (Contemporary Romance)

Coming Soon in 2013:

The Color of Snow: Snow Fall – Book Three (Paranormal)

The Color of Snow Trilogy – All three books together

Judgment Lapse: A Slater Vance Novel

Fangs for Hire (Paranormal)

A Long & Steady Cadence

Find me on Facebook or Goodreads – LR Potter – or email me, I love getting email

Thank you for reading my books!

