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Authors: Tamara Hunter

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BOOK: PaintedPassion
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Eyes alight with pleasure, Maria tugged free of her
grandfather’s hand and sprang for him.

Carlos laughed as he picked her up and swung her around.
“How’s the prettiest little girl in the world?”

Her giggles tugged at Trella’s heart.

Adam walked the length of the covered patio, stopping every
few seconds to play with the bountiful crimson-red and violet bougainvilleas
overflowing the cement planters.

Alfonso tugged his Diamondbacks baseball cap lower on his
head. “Sorry to bother you, but I have information for Carlos.”

The look of grim resignation chased away the smile on
Carlos’ face.

Trella caught Adam’s hand in hers. “I’ll take the children
into the kitchen so you two can talk.”

 

After a good deal of coaxing from Carlos, Maria allowed
herself to be transferred into Trella’s arms.

Carlos sat on a lounger, gesturing for Alfonso to do the
same. He waited until Trella closed the patio door.

Alfonso expelled his breath in a loud rush of air. “I have a
worker who says he has a cousin who was involved in Rodriguez’s work program.”

Carlos wanted to hug the other man, but he remained still,
praying this was the break they needed. “Go on.”

“Money was required upfront, and then once they arrived
here, more money was expected.” The older man lowered his voice, although
Trella and the children couldn’t hear him. “If the males can’t pay, they’re
beaten. If the females don’t have the money or any relatives to send money,
they end up earning on the streets.”

Carlos clenched his fists, unable to stop the tide of rising
anger. He braced his elbows on his thighs and lowered his head. He said a quick
prayer for the women and girls who had to endure such atrocities. Rodriguez had
a lot to answer for.

“Did he have a contact?”

Alfonso shook his head. “He says no, but I suspect he’s
lying. He’s scared of what’ll happen if anyone finds out he talked.”


La
familia
?”

Alfonso nodded.

“If Rodriguez is arrested, chances are the man will be
willing to talk then.” Carlos rose from the seat. “How’s Ava?”

“Good. She’s talking about you finding a wife soon.” A
twinkle appeared in the man’s eyes. “How’s Trella doing these days?”

Carlos glanced at the door through which Trella and the
children had disappeared. “We’ve grown closer.”

Alfonso displayed a wide smile. “Ava will be pleased at the
progress.”

“I’m taking it slow.”

“You’re good for her.”

Carlos shared Alfonso’s sentiment, but until Trella recognized
it for herself, a future together remained doubtful.

* * * * *

“Does your sister talk much?” Trella asked Adam as he sat at
the kitchen table.

The boy swung his feet back and forth, eyes wide as he gazed
at his surroundings. “Mamá says she has to heat up first.”

Trella smiled at his phrasing. “You mean warm up to people?”

He nodded.

Maria stuck a thumb into her mouth, her sherry-colored eyes
never shifting from Trella’s face.

She ran a hand over the girl’s ink-black hair. “I have some
cookies in the pantry. Interested?”

Both children nodded.

“Adam, please take your sister into the bathroom around the
corner and wash your hands and hers.”

Trella retrieved two saucers and glasses from the cabinet.
She opened the pantry door. She hid the cookie jar from Miguel by keeping it
stashed behind cans of vegetables. He rarely looked in the pantry, and if he
did, he’d never search near veggies. She removed several chocolate chip cookies
and placed them on the saucers.

Trella listened to the children chatter and giggle while
they did as they were told, positive more playing ensued than washing. When
they returned, she poured two glasses of milk then settled at the table across
from them.

“You married?” Adam asked from around a mouthful of cookie.

Maria ate in silence, mouth working, but her beautiful,
soulful eyes remained ever watchful of Trella.

“Not anymore.” Trella was amazed the question didn’t bother
her.

“Why?”

Telling him of Louis’ death would only invite more
questions. Surely a more vague response would work better. “My husband isn’t
around anymore.”

Maria climbed from her chair, teetering her way to where
Trella sat. She climbed onto her lap before encircling her neck with soft,
chubby arms. The little girl nestled her head beneath Trella’s neck and squeezed,
as if the child were showing she understood Trella’s loss. A longing, deep and
unexpected, shot through Trella’s body. Tears welled in her eyes as she
breathed in the toddler’s fresh scent. Helpless against the wave of emotion,
she stroked Maria’s cotton-covered back, feeling the child's warm breath
against her neck.

What would Carlos’ child look like? Would he or she have his
easy smile? His thick, coal-colored curls?

Sensing someone watching her, she glanced at the doorway.
Carlos and Alfonso stared at her. Her face flushed at the raw look of desire on
Carlos’ face.

“Guess you two are friends now,” Alfonso stated.

Trella tried to release Maria's arms but they tightened
around her. She rose, one arm beneath the young girl’s bottom and the other securely
against her back.

“We had cookies and milk.” Adam piped up.

“Did you thank Trella?” Alfonso asked, advancing farther
into the room.

“Thank you,” Adam dutifully blurted.

“You’re welcome.”

Alfonso peeled Maria from Trella, which caused the young girl’s
face to crinkle with impending tears.

Carlos kissed the youngster’s cheek then ruffled her hair.
“How about Trella and I come visit you soon. Would you like that?”

The threat of tears evaporated, and the little girl nodded,
happy once again.

Trella kept quiet as she followed Carlos and the small group
to the door. She waved until they no longer could see the white truck.

“Want to finish what we started?” Carlos hugged her from
behind, nuzzling her neck.

She ducked from his hold. “I need to paint. I’ve taken
enough time away from my work for the day. Don’t worry about me for dinner.
I’ll come down and fix a sandwich if I’m hungry.” She dashed from the room
without looking at him.

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

Trella stroked a brush dipped in burnt sienna across the
canvas. She wasn’t sure which frightened her more—the tender way Carlos looked
at her when she was holding Maria, or the knowing light in his eyes, as if he
knew she’d been imagining what his children would look like.

She selected another brush and dipped the tip in chromium
green. From behind her came a knock at the door. She glanced around.

Carlos entered the studio, carrying a tray of chocolate chip
cookies, fresh fruit and a glass of lemonade. “Care to take a break?”

“Not yet.”

He set the food on a nearby table. “When?”

She returned to her work. “What?”

“When will you take a break?” An undercurrent of frustration
laced his question.

Changing brushes, she continued painting. “Don’t know.”

His gaze bore into her, but she refused to look up.

“I’m not going away, Trella.”

Clearly
. “I’m close to finishing. I’ll be down
later.”

He left, closing the door with a soft click. She blew out
her breath in a rush of air. He wanted answers. Didn’t he understand she didn’t
have them herself?

She selected a Boney James album on her mp3 player and
allowed the sensual sounds of the sax to knock Carlos out of her mind. She
worked until long after midnight. Finally, she stretched, satisfied with the
image of Carlos sitting on the daybed. She had to admit the man was handsome,
and the most appealing aspect was the fact he appeared not to know it.

Trella cleaned up then indulged in a relaxing shower.
Wrapping a baby-pink silk robe around her, she retreated to the terrace.
Twinkling stars lighted the sky, while the dark outlines of the mountains
appeared as massive sentries guarding the valley below.

“Ready to talk?”

Gasping, she whirled around, one hand clutching her lapels.
There, concealed in the shadows, Carlos sat at one of the tables.

Her heart jumped. “Are you trying to finish me off before
Hector has a chance?”

“Didn’t mean to frighten you.” Carlos stayed seated. “I came
in when you were taking a shower.”

Trella tightened the robe’s belt. “And If I hadn’t come out
here?”

“I’d have come in.” The words he uttered low were harmless
enough, but a thread of determination weaved throughout them.

He approached with stealthy, confident steps.

Damn him
. She shrank against the railing, but there
was no hiding place. This is what she longed to avoid—his belief he had a right
to question or ask her to share her feelings simply because he shared her bed.

His touch had a way of dissolving her concerns like solvent.
She stiffened, determined not to acquiesce. Unnerved by the way his body
dwarfed hers, she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“The night I met you,” he began, his words low as if he
hesitated to speak them louder. “You wore a navy pantsuit with a blouse the
color of emeralds. Your eyes lit up with laughter. I couldn’t stop staring at
you. My plan was to buy you a drink and introduce myself. You had a classy vibe,
and I knew you wouldn’t tolerate a half-assed line.”

Her heart thudded. She kept her attention focused on him,
but he looked over her shoulder as if experiencing the past once again.

“By the time I paid for the drink, Louis was sitting at the
table deep in conversation with you. He always attracted women, but he didn’t
usually pay attention to them. He was different with you. He paid attention to
you. He looked at you as if you were his future.”

Carlos stared down at her, allowing her to see the truth on
his face. “Something about you affected me. I always brought a woman with me
when I visited you two—I didn’t trust myself around you, and I would never hurt
or disappoint my brother.”

He placed his hands against the railing, bracketing her body
with his. A light, clean and musky scent urged her closer. She unfolded her
arms, easing her hands along his waist to grip the band of his jeans. Beneath
her cheek, his heart thumped in a contented beat.

Soft kisses at her hairline crumbled the remainder of her
defenses, allowing his strength to flow through her and infuse with hers.

He rubbed his large hands up and down her back, causing
shivers in their wake. She had no idea how long they stood, absorbing the
essence of each other’s being. In his arms, she found tranquility.

“The painting Hector sent…”

Carlos didn’t utter a word. His steady breathing calmed her,
and she adjusted her own to his rhythm.

“My parents’ love eclipsed everything in their lives. The
flames represented obstacles or trials in their lives that they never noticed
because their focus was on each other.”

She closed her eyes, afraid of the judgment she’d see in his
face. Tears trickled down her cheeks, but she didn’t bother wiping them away.
“This may sound strange, but I was happy to be sick. If one of my friends was
sick, I tried my best to catch their flu. My best girlfriend had chicken pox. I
was warned to stay away since I’d catch it.” She chuckled. “I was at her house
every day, praying to see a rash or blister.” She forced the shameful words
out. “Being sick meant one of my parents had to stay at home and focus on me.”

Her throat clogged, but she fought against it. “I had the
lead in a school play. My parents were discovered making out in a maintenance
closet instead of watching me.” She laughed, the sound harsh and rough in the
quietness. “I was left at school countless times because my parents had gone off
somewhere together and forgot about me. ” She sniffled. “One time, I stayed so
late, the janitor started driving me home. She was so angry at my parents. I
remember she cussed them out for not at least giving me a key.” She sniffled.
“The next day, my father handed me a key chain. But the janitor always drove me
home from that day on.“

A tear rolled down her cheek, quickly followed by another.
“I understand being in traffic or stuck at work and arriving late to pick up
your child. But to admit to forgetting about your own flesh and blood?” She
shook her head. “My parents didn’t need children. Should never have had me.
They had so much love and passion for each other, there was nothing left for
me.” She sighed. “I’m so glad they never had another child.”

His hands never stopped their movement, erasing layer after
layer of pain with each stroke.

She kept her eyes closed, knowing if she opened them, she’d
never be able to continue. “I told Louis I didn’t want children, and he didn’t
push the issue. Said he was happy being with me.” She swallowed. “Then I saw
you with Adam and Maria, and it hit me.” She clutched him tighter. “I never
witnessed how Louis interacted with children. I’m not sure if he ever wanted babies
or if he was simply pleasing me by going along with my wishes. What woman
doesn’t know how her husband feels about children and whether or not to start a
family?”

Trella opened her eyes, staring at the front of his t-shirt,
certain she’d find condemnation if she looked at him. She wiped her cheeks.
“I’m tired. So whatever speech you intend to give, save it until morning.” She
stepped backward, but his hold tightened around her.

He put a hand beneath her chin, tilting her head back so she
had no choice but to lift her gaze. Instead of censure and revulsion,
understanding shone in his eyes. Something else flickered in their depths, but
she didn’t have the strength to deal with it.

She bit her bottom lip in an effort to stave off more tears.
He planted a kiss in the middle of her forehead then on her damp cheeks.

No words proved necessary when he swept her into his arms,
returning to the chair he’d occupied at the table. He positioned her so her
legs straddled his thighs.

He pushed the silk from her shoulders, kissing every inch of
flesh he uncovered. Joy burst to life inside her, blossoming from his care and
concern. Hands on flesh, lips on lips, she allowed him to kiss away the past
hurt and pain.

His hot, demanding mouth worshipped her breasts, leaving
them heavy and aching for more. She didn’t recognize the needy gasps falling
from her lips as she sought cleansing and redemption.

The nocturnal animals had grown silent. The rustling of palm
fronds in the warm breeze provided the only background symphony.

Driven by the desire to connect with him, to feel him move
inside her and experience the release only he could provide, she unbuttoned his
jeans and maneuvered his erection through the opening of his boxer briefs.

He untied the robe, baring her completely. His fingers
traveled to the juncture of her thighs. He stroked the sparse hair covering her
pussy then slid his fingers up and down her lips, coaxing more wetness from her
as he pleasured her.

She rocked against his hand, craving more. Cradling his head
between her hands, she touched her lips to his, teasing him with her tongue
along the seam. With a groan, he opened his mouth, inviting further
exploration. She kissed him then, tongue tangling with his as he sucked her
deeper into his passion.

She rose onto her tiptoes and positioned his hard length
against her wet sex, stroking herself against the swollen head. Trembling, she
eased him inside, accepting inch by inch. He groaned into her mouth as she
enveloped him.

He pushed upward. Gasping, she pulled away from his mouth,
arching her back as he drove himself deeper. Her nails clenched his broad
shoulders as he controlled the ride, each movement creating sweet memories. She
stroked as much of his skin as she could reach, as they moved in unison like
the undulations of the ocean.

Leaning forward, he captured a nipple between his lips. His
teeth scraped the surface. She cried out, bearing down on him. She didn’t try
to keep quiet as sensations slashed at her from his mouth, his hands and his
body.

He rolled his hips, sending her closer toward her orgasm.
She wanted to speed up her movements, but he kept their dance slow and
satisfying. She again lowered her mouth to his, sucked his bottom lip in
between her lips, stroking it with her tongue.

Murmuring to her softly, he slid a hand beneath her hair. He
ended the kiss, leaning her away from him. He slid a hand between them to
stroke her clit. His fingers, slippery with her wetness, coaxed her closer and
closer to completion.

He removed his hand from her warmth. Holding her gaze, he
slid his fingers inside his mouth with a groan.

She licked at his lips then slid her tongue against his,
knowing she wasn’t only making peace with her past but falling deeper in love
with a man she prayed was falling in love with her.

His hand returned to her pussy, stroking her, and she toppled
over the edge first, unafraid because she knew he was behind her. She pulsed
against him, giving him everything.

He stiffened against her, hands holding her still as he sank
deeper inside her. She swallowed his moan as pure pleasure flowed into her. Trembling,
she acknowledged they’d been making love from the very first time he shared
himself with her. He lifted his head, peppering kisses on her face.

Trella lay against his chest, allowing her breathing to
normalize. No matter what happened to them in the future, she would never
regret being with him. But they hadn’t used protection.

Sighing at the irony, she placed a hand over her tummy.
Seconds later, his large hand covered hers.

 

Carlos breathed deeply as he listened to her soft exhales.
Kissing her was natural, making love to her more so. He’d never been with a
woman without using a condom until tonight. After feeling the walls of her
pussy with no barrier, he wanted her that way from now on.

He brushed her hair from her face. He owed her an apology for
pushing her to talk, but when he’d seen her holding Maria, the pain on her face
shocked him to his core. He knew Trella’s natural reaction was to stuff her
feelings deep inside. She deserved to have someone listen to her, to let her
know she was important.

She presented him with a profound gift tonight. She allowed
him entry through a door previously closed, locked and double-bolted, which
meant more to him than she could understand. He hadn’t expected everything
she’d admitted, but who was he to judge? The fact she grew into a loving, kind
and generous woman, despite her parents’ standoffishness, bore witness to her
resilience. Her strength amazed him. No doubt, if she’d had a younger sister or
brother, Trella would’ve showered her sibling with love and affection.

Rising, he carried her into the bedroom. He laid her onto
the soft sheets, considered climbing under the covers with her but decided
against it.

He understood her now. As much as he longed to bury himself
between her soft thighs again, she needed time to accept the fact she’d fully
allowed him into her life.

BOOK: PaintedPassion
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