Ready for Marriage? (21 page)

Trent came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, then nuzzled the side of her face. “It’s going to be all right,” he whispered. “Somehow, someway, we’ll make it all right. We’ll see it through together this time.”

Kate clutched Trent’s arms that held her and snug
gled backward into his embrace. “Do you think there’s a solution that will work for everyone involved? Is it possible that Brenda Farrell would be willing to—”

“Coffee.” Brenda returned to the living room, a small serving tray in her hands.

Kate and Trent accepted the cups of coffee and returned to the sofa. Brenda placed the tray on the dining room table, then lifted her cup and came back into the living room. She sat across from them in a large, floral wing chair.

“I know that as Christa’s biological parents, you two have certain legal rights,” Brenda said, gripping her cup in a shaky hand. “But I’m counting on y’all being good people who won’t take Christa away from me. It would destroy her if she lost me. We’re very close.”

“We have no intention of taking Christa away from you,” Trent assured her. “If her adoptive parents were still alive, we’d ask only to see Christa and over the years maintain contact so that when she became an adult she could chose whether she wanted to get to know us. But since your son and his wife died six years ago, leaving Christa without parents, I’d like for us to find a way where we can share Christa.”

“Share her?” Brenda set her cup on a coaster atop the coffee table. “I don’t understand. Are you suggesting an arrangement where she lives with you two part of the time and me part of the time? I was told you two are divorced. Is that right?”

“What I’m suggesting is that you and Christa come to Prospect for a visit,” Trent said. “I have a large home with more than enough room for all of us. And yes, Kate and I are divorced, but at least for the initial visit, I’m sure Kate would be perfectly willing to stay in Prospect and live at Winston Hall with us.”

Kate sipped on the coffee, hoping it wouldn’t hit her stomach like a lead weight. Why hadn’t Trent mentioned his great idea to her—his plans to bring Christa and her grandmother to Prospect?

“How long a visit are we talking about?” Brenda inquired.

“That would be up to you. I suggest at least a week the first time.”

“I see. Well, I suppose it’s something I can consider.”

“You don’t need to decide tonight,” Trent told her. “Take a few days. Talk it over with Christa. You have the opportunity to give her a mother and a father, as well as a great aunt. And you and she wouldn’t lose each other. If things worked out, you might consider moving to Prospect.”

Wait just a damn minute
, Kate wanted to shout.
What
about me? I live in Atlanta. Am I suppose to visit
Prospect when I want to see my child?

“I’ll think seriously about a visit…soon.” Brenda rose from the chair. “I’ll go get Christa. Please, remember that y’all are strangers to her. Don’t expect her to be happy to see you.”

“We understand.” Trent looked at Kate. “Don’t we, honey?”

Kate nodded.

The minute Brenda left, Kate turned on Trent. “When did you come up with your brilliant idea for Brenda and Christa to visit Winston Hall?”

“You’re angry. Why?”

“Why? Because you took charge, made decisions about our child’s future without so much as mentioning anything to me. You could have—no!—you should have discussed this with me before you—”

“Hell, Kate, the idea just hit me while we were sitting here. I thought you’d be thrilled if I could get Brenda to agree to bring Christa to Prospect for a week. It would give us a chance to get to know her and for her to get to know her family.”

“And what family would that be? You and Aunt Mary Belle and a legion of Winston cousins?”

Trent shot to his feet and stomped around the room, grumbling under his breath. After several minutes of letting off steam, he stopped and looked right at Kate. “Get this through your head right now, so there won’t be any misunderstandings later—you and I were Mary Kate’s parents so that means you and I are Christa’s parents. She’s ours. Not mine. Not yours. Ours.”

Her nerves raw, her emotions barely kept in check, Kate shivered. “Ours,” she said hoarsely.

“If Brenda agrees, she’ll bring Christa to Winston Hall for a visit with you and me. And yes, with Aunt Mary Belle, too. We’ll spend time together, getting acquainted. Later on, we might try a two-week or even monthlong visit. Or it could be that things will work out so well the first visit that we can make it a permanent arrangement.”

“What about me? About my job? My life in Atlanta?”

Trent’s expression hardened. “I had thought you’d…” He cleared his throat. “If you don’t want to come home to Prospect on a permanent basis, then I could bring Mary Kate—I mean Christa—to Atlanta. Or if you prefer, Brenda could bring her to see you.”

The kitchen door opened. Brenda walked in, Christa beside her, clutching Brenda’s hand. Kate felt as if her heart stopped, as if the whole world had stopped, as she and Trent turned to meet their daughter.

“Christa, this is Kate and Trent. They’re the people I told you about. Your birth parents.”

Zeroing in on Kate first and then Trent, the child studied them closely. “You’re the man and woman I saw at the library the other day.”

“What?” Brenda gasped.

“We came to Sheffield to take a look at Christa,” Trent said. “We couldn’t wait to see her and we also went by Corinth to see another little girl who might have been our Mary Kate.”

“I was the one who couldn’t wait,” Kate admitted. “I was so anxious to find out if…I wanted Christa to be my daughter.”

“I’m not your daughter,” Christa said. “Rick and Jean Farrell were my parents. I belong to Nana now. She and I have each other and we don’t need anyone else, do we, Nana?” Christa looked pleadingly at her grandmother.

“We’ll always have each other.” Brenda put her arm around Christa and hugged her close. “Kate and Trent aren’t here to take you away from me. I told you they’re just here to meet you.” When Christa buried her face against her grandmother’s chest, Brenda stroked her back lovingly.

“Where are your manners, Christa?” Brenda eased her granddaughter away from her and turned her to face their company. “Say hello to Kate and Trent, then go sit down and we’ll have a nice visit.”

Tears swimming in her chocolate brown eyes—eyes identical to her father’s—Christa glared at her parents. Kate felt as if her heart would break in two. Here was her baby girl, her precious Mary Kate, and the child wanted nothing to do with her.

“Hello,” Christa said, her voice a mere whisper.

“Hello,” Trent replied.

Christa glanced at Kate, who managed a wavering smile.

“Hello, Christa. I’m so very glad to meet you.”

“Why don’t you tell Kate and Trent about school,” Brenda said. “Tell them what grade you’re in and who your teacher is and—”

“No! I won’t tell them anything.” Christa burst into tears. “Go away. Both of you. I don’t know you. You aren’t my parents. I’ll never leave my nana. Not ever!” Christa ran out of the room.

“Oh, dear.” Brenda clasped her hand over her mouth.

“Shouldn’t you go after her?” Kate asked, wanting nothing more than to rush after Christa and wrap the child in her arms.

Brenda sighed. “No. When she throws one of her temper tantrums, I’ve found it best to leave her alone for a while until she calms down.”

“That’s exactly the way Aunt Mary Belle handled me when I acted like that,” Trent said.

Brenda faced them. “I’m so sorry. I thought I had prepared her for this meeting. Apparently I didn’t do such a good job.”

“It’s not your fault,” Kate told her. “It’s not anyone’s fault.”

“I think we’d better go.” Trent placed his hand beneath Kate’s elbow. “We’ll stay in town overnight, so if you think it’s all right, Kate and I will come back tomorrow.”

“I have your cell phone number.” Brenda came over and put her hand on Kate’s shoulder. “I can only imagine what you must be feeling right now. I am so sorry, my dear.”

“Maybe she’ll be willing to see us tomorrow.” Kate clenched her teeth to keep herself from crying.

She turned and all but ran through the sunroom and out the front door. She was almost to the Bentley when Trent caught up with her. He whirled her around and pulled her into his arms. She melted against him. And cried.

T
rent had gotten them a suite at the Holiday Inn, which was the best Sheffield, Alabama, had to offer. She doubted the employees had ever catered to a guest who drove a Bentley. And from the fact that the manager himself escorted them to their suite, Kate figured the entire staff was duly impressed with Trenton Bayard Winston IV. Odd how most people admired and respected money in a way they did little else.

While the manager kowtowed to Trent, Kate went into the bathroom to escape. She had cried almost the whole way from the Village to the hotel and she now had a killer headache. She turned on the sink faucets, cupped her hands to catch the water and splashed her face, then grabbed a hand towel from the nearby stack and patted her skin dry. Sighing, she flipped the commode lid closed and slumped down on the seat. She felt
like a balloon with all the air let out, deflated by a slow, painful leak that had left her flat and lifeless.

Mary Kate wanted nothing to do with them.

No, not Mary Kate—Christa.

She had to get the fact straight in her mind that although Mary Kate was Christa, Christa was not Mary Kate. The baby she and Trent had brought into this world, nurtured and loved for over two months, no longer existed. That child had ceased to exist the day she’d been stolen from Kate. Christa Farrell had no memories of her previous life, no emotional connection to Trent and Kate. They were, as Brenda had pointed out to them, strangers to their own child.

What were they going to do? What if Christa never came around? What if she never wanted them to be a part of her life?
Oh, God, how will I be able to bear it?
Kate’s heart wept. Bowing her head, she covered her face with her hands and moaned, the grief welling up inside her, ripping her apart in its wake.

The bathroom door opened. She glanced up to see Trent enter. He came to her, knelt in front of her and clasped her hands, completely covering them with his. She looked at him and saw her own pain reflected in his eyes.

“Oh, Trent…”

“Let it go, honey. Rant and rave and cry some more, if that’s what you need to do.”

She shook her head. “What good will that do? Besides, I’m not the ranting and raving type. And I’ve already cried an ocean of tears.”

“Yeah, I’m the one with the temper. Believe me, I really need about an hour working out at the gym, preferably with a punching bag.”

Kate reached out and caressed his face. “What are we going to do?”

“We’re going to wait until tomorrow and hope that Christa will be willing to see us then.” Trent took Kate’s hands and urged her to stand, which she did. “But for tonight, we’re going to try to put today’s events behind us. I’ve arranged for room service, so our dinner should be here within the hour. In the meantime, I’ll draw you a warm bath and you can soak in the tub while I make a few phone calls.”

“Who are you going to call?”

“Aunt Mary Belle, Dante Moran and my lawyer. I’ve got the name of a top man in the field of child custody cases. I want to put him on a retainer.”

Kate nodded. She didn’t know for sure why he would call Moran, but she didn’t really care. Not at this precise moment. And as for hiring a lawyer, she’d leave that up to Trent. At least for now. “A warm bath sounds good. I’ll get my pajamas and robe—”

“You aren’t going to do anything except relax and allow me to take care of you.” He went over and turned on the faucets, then unwrapped the guest soap and laid it atop a washcloth on the edge of the tub. After that he set the small bottles of shampoo and conditioner alongside the cloth. “Undress and get in. I’ll bring your robe and slippers in here shortly.”

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

As soon as he exited the bathroom, Kate removed her clothes and stepped into the tub. She slid down into the delicious warm water and sighed with contentment. The water level rose higher and higher and when it covered her almost to her neck, she turned off the faucets and laid her head against the back of the tub. She rested in that position for a good five minutes, doing her best to clear her mind of all unpleasant thoughts. Her
headache didn’t go away, but the throbbing eased up considerably. She soaped the washcloth and scrubbed herself from face to feet. After shampooing, rinsing, conditioning and rinsing again, she let out some of the cooling water and refilled with fresh warm water.

She stayed in the tub for quite some time, soaking away the stress of the day and her body’s minor aches and pains. Not until Trent entered the bathroom again did she realize she’d practically dosed off. Glancing up at him, she smiled when she saw he held a small glass in his hands.

“That looks like wine,” she said.

“It is wine.” Trent grinned. “Compliments of the manager.”

“How long have I been in here?” she asked. “I seem to have lost track of time.”

“About twenty minutes.” He walked over to the tub and held the glass out to her.

She didn’t feel the least bit awkward being naked in front of Trent. She supposed she should, but she didn’t. He had been her first lover, her husband for more than two years and he had once known every inch of her body better than she had.

Kate took the glass from him, sipped the wine and sighed. “Not bad.”

“Finish that off while I get your robe and slippers.”

She sipped the red wine, savoring the taste and appreciating its ability, if she drank enough, to partially anesthesize her. Just as she finished drinking the wine, Trent returned carrying her robe. He hung it on the back of the door, then snapped open a large towel and came toward the tub. She understood that he was holding it for her, waiting to wrap her in it when she emerged from her watery bed.

If you allow him to take care of you, things can and
probably will get out of control
, she told herself.
Is that
what you want?

Kate set the empty glass in the floor, then rose from the water and stepped out of the tub and right into Trent’s waiting arms. He wrapped the towel around her and led her over to the commode, the lid still down. After seating her, he took another towel and rubbed her hair until all the excess moisture was absorbed. Using another towel, he dried her feet and calves, dropped that towel to the floor, and then opened the towel draped around her and gently patted her stomach, breasts and neck. Kate drew in a quivering breath.

“You’re even more beautiful now than you were when we first got married.” He whipped the towel off her and gazed appreciatively at her body.

Her nipples peaked. “You’re a skillful liar,” she told him. “And I thank you. I suppose I’m in pretty good shape to be thirty-five, but—”

He placed his index finger over her lips to silence her. “You’re in great shape.” He reached out tentatively, bringing the tips of his fingers to one breast.

She sucked in her breath. He grazed the nipple softly.

“You can’t imagine how much I want you,” he admitted, his gaze hungry as it moved from her breasts, down her belly to the downy apex between her thighs.

“Maybe I can,” she told him, “if it’s half as much as I want you.”

“Kate?”

“A little comfort to soothe our battle scars?” she asked.

“Label it whatever suits you. Comfort. Lust. Mutual need.”

She leaned forward, placed her hands on his cheeks
and cupped his face. “Just for tonight.” She wouldn’t ask him for any promises, wouldn’t expect a commitment just because they had sex again.

“Yeah, honey, just for tonight.”

He lifted her up and into his arms. She cuddled close as he carried her from the bathroom to the bedroom. After laying her on the turned-down bed, he stripped out of his clothes. She expected him to join her, but instead he went back in the bathroom. Within seconds he returned, a small bottle of lotion in his hand.

“Roll over,” he told her.

Without questioning him, she did as he’d asked. He sat on the bed, screwed off the bottle lid and poured lotion into his hand, then he spread the cool, lightly scented cream across her back and shoulders. She relaxed as he massaged and caressed her. He worked his way down each arm, then along her spine and over her buttocks. A tingling sensation spread through her, like minuscule currents of electricity bringing her body to life.

Trent rubbed the back of her thighs, her calves and even her feet. When they were married, he’d often given her this type of sensual massage and it always ended with sweet and tender lovemaking. The kind of lovemaking that lingered in the body and on the mind for hours afterward.

“Turn over,” he said, his voice husky with desire.

She turned slowly, languidly, an odd combination of relaxation and excitement controlling her movements. Her breasts felt heavy and achy. Her nipples were spiked points, begging for attention. Her femininity clutched and released, creating tension between her legs. Moisture gathered between her intimate lips and sexual heat warmed her from head to toe.

Trent used what little was left of the lotion on Kate’s belly and hips, his big hands amazingly gentle as they stroked her flesh. When she thought she couldn’t bear his ardent attention another minute, he came down over her, his erection pressing against her stomach.

His mouth covered hers and they shared a long, lingering kiss. His lips moved across her cheek to moisten her earlobe. “I want to be inside you. Deep.” He licked a path down her neck, then lifted his head and looked right into her eyes. “I want to take you and take you and take you.” He flicked the tip of his tongue over one pouting nipple and then the other, eliciting a cry of pleasure-pain from her lips. “Once isn’t going to be enough.”

She gave herself over to the moment, to Trent and to the love that had never died. While he suckled her breasts, she ran her hands over his broad shoulders and across his back, loving the feel of him. His sex throbbed against her, arousing her even more.

“Trent, please…”

“Not yet, honey.”

His hands, lips and tongue explored her body, each little nook and cranny, turning every inch of her into a quivering mass of sexual need. Just when she thought he was going to enter her, he withdrew from her and leaned over to pick up something off the nightstand.

She whimpered.

“I had the hotel manager send out for some condoms,” Trent said, a wicked grin on his face.

“You didn’t?” Kate giggled.

“I did.”

“What must he think?”

“Who cares? But he probably thinks that I wanted to make love to my wife.”

“Your wife?”

“That’s how I registered. Mr. and Mrs. Winston.”

The former Mrs. Winston sighed, then held open her arms, issuing Mr. Winston an invitation.

Hurriedly he undid the foil packet, sheathed his sex and returned to her. When he slid his hands beneath her hips and lifted her up, she wrapped her arms around his neck. He slipped into her with one slick, even stroke. And she was in heaven. Back in Trent’s arms. Their bodies intimately joined. Their loving was as natural as breathing to each of them, as if they had been created for only each other. They kissed and touched without rushing, no urgency fueling their desire. She sensed that he was being intentionally gentle, drawing out each precious moment, making it last as long as possible. He did all the giving, showering her with attention.

Kate had never felt so cherished, so completely adored, as she did tonight. Trent’s every touch, every move, every word was a form of worship. After he had brought her near fulfillment several times, then held back to intensify her satisfaction, he finally allowed her to do more than enjoy the pleasure he gave her. Their loving became a mutual giving and taking, the passion growing stronger and hotter by the moment. As her body tightened, the end close, Trent quickened the pace, pumping into her hard and fast.

This was right. This was so right
.

Her climax hit her with the force of an explosion. Although he was buried deep inside her, hammering her repeatedly, she bucked up, seeking to gain the last ounce of release. And just as the waves of completion washed over her, Trent groaned. He came with a fury, his hard, hot body trembling with fulfillment.

I love you
. The words were on the tip of her tongue.
It would be the most natural thing in the world to tell him how she felt. But she couldn’t. Not unless he said the words first.

When he rolled off onto his back, she snuggled against him. He shoved his arm beneath her and hugged her to his side, then he stroked her naked hip. The aftershocks of her climax rippled through her as she kissed his chest.

“God, Kate, I’ve missed you.”

And she had missed him, more than she’d realized. “It was always so good…so right with us, wasn’t it?”

He kissed her temple. “Always.”

She lay there in the semidarkness of their hotel suite, waiting for him to say those three magic words. Moments ticked by. Neither of them spoke again until a loud knock on the door roused them.

“Room service,” a feminine voice called.

“Damn! I’d forgotten about ordering supper.” Trent jumped out of bed. “Be there in a minute,” he yelled. He found his slacks on the floor, picked them up and rushed into the bathroom. When he reentered the bedroom, he grinned at Kate. “You stay right there. I’ll go to the door and bring the serving cart in myself.”

By the time Trent wheeled in their evening meal, Kate had slipped on her house shoes and robe. Despite the fact that her ex-husband had not mentioned love before, during or after their lovemaking, Kate appreciated the efforts he’d gone to for her sake.

“Dinner is served,” Trent said.

“Good. I’m starving.”

“Save room for dessert,” he told her and winked.

“Don’t tell me—whipped cream and strawberries?” They had indulged in those items during their honeymoon, putting more of the cream on each other than on the berries.

“No strawberries,” he said, then lifted the cover from a large, round bowl. “But lots of whipped cream.”

Kate laughed. Only Trent could have worked this miracle. Only Trent could have taken her mind off their problems and given her such pleasure.

Trent’s cell phone rang at eight o’clock the next morning, just as Kate and he were dressing after the shower they’d taken together. They had made love again the night before, using the whipped cream to full advantage. And then he’d awakened her before six this morning and they’d made love for a third time. He couldn’t get enough of her. But that wasn’t something new. It had always been that way with them. The passion had never faded, even when the love and trust had wavered.