Silver Miracles (12 page)

Lethargically, Trinity began to dress, pulling the jade pareu around her and knotting it. Inspecting her image in the mirror, she realized that she hadn’t worn it since the night that Chase had made his outlandish proposition. She grimaced at the mirror. If only they didn’t have to go to this party tonight! If they could stay home and talk things out before Chase had to leave in the morning, perhaps they would be able to resolve whatever it was that seemed to be bothering Chase lately.

Trinity gave a sigh and picked up her hairbrush, staring sightlessly at it. Chase had told her that this was a very important party tonight and that they couldn’t possibly miss it. She supposed she would just have to paste on a smile and make the best of it. Maybe they would have a chance to talk after the party.

After brushing her hair, she applied a light makeup, then she stepped into the high-heeled sandals that were held on her feet by two straps of gold.

Walking out the bedroom door, she paused at the top of the stairs and looked down at Chase, devastatingly attractive in his black evening suit. He was on the phone, haranguing a no-doubt terrified employee. "Get it done by tomorrow or you’re fired!" Not bothering to say good-bye, Chase slammed the receiver down.

It was then that he noticed her. His eyes lifted to Trinity and he became very still, a muscle jerking in his jaw.

She took a deep breath and started down the stairs. The light was streaming out of the bedroom behind her, and Trinity suddenly realized that Chase would be able to see straight through the sheer fabric.

He didn’t take his eyes off her and he didn’t move. Instead, he seemed to become mesmerized by the sway of her body under the dress and the manner in which the material parted in the front as she descended the stairway.

When Trinity reached the bottom, she halted, watching Chase cautiously. At last he moved, walking across the short distance that separated them.

"You know. Trinity," he began quite casually, "when you wear a cobweb for a dress, you should realize that there’ll be spiders that will be lured into it." His hand went to the knot that was tied between her breasts, and he tugged her to him. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?" His mouth lowered to a point right above the knot, which he still held in his hand, gently caressing the area with the moistness of his lips.

"You’re a woman, Trinity Ann Warrenton." His lips were traveling down over the silk chiffon to where the hardened tip of her breast jutted out. "All the other ladies I know only play at the part. You’re the genuine article." His mouth closed onto the nipple through the material and began sucking.

Trinity moaned with a spasm of longing. How could he do this to her so easily? Everything always seemed to come down to the physical between the two of them. "Chase . . . the party . . . we’ve got to go," she stammered weakly.

He let go of her breast with his mouth and journeyed leisurely back up the smooth column of her throat. "You never hold back . . . anything I ask of you when we’re making love, you give . . . don’t you?" His mouth had found the hollow behind her ear. "Yet, you make all these damned conditions, and I have to abide by them or you’ll leave." His tongue traced into her ear. "You’re a wild and free spirit, as impossible to hold on to as a handful of smoke."

The throbbing heat in her lower limbs had gradually transfused to every part of her body. "Chase," Trinity gasped, "you said that the party . . . was . . . important."

His hand still held the knot, playing gently with it. "I think I’ve just found something more important." His lips glided across her cheek to her open mouth and captured it in a kiss so electrifying that Trinity was lost. Her arms slid around his neck just as the pareu slipped down to the floor around her feet.

Chase lifted her in his arms and carried her up to the bedroom, laying her down on the soft, supple suede. His eyes ran hotly over her, stopping at the pair of bikini panties she still wore. "Get undressed," he ordered hoarsely, as he began to take his own clothes off.

Trinity did as she was told and then waited for Chase to join her. The waiting seemed interminable. He took his time, stripping off each item with an unhurried nonchalance. He appeared to be enjoying the way her eyes fastened hungrily on each new naked inch of his body as it was uncovered. Finally, he came down beside her.

"This will have to last us until I get back," he ground out huskily. His mouth found hers, and his hand located the entrance at the apex of her thighs, delving into its depths. "You’re ready for me, aren’t you, Trinity?" His tongue was darting in and out, even as his hands made the same motion between her legs. How could she possibly answer? He had made her almost sick with wanting. She felt she was incapable of uttering a single intelligent word.

"Tell me," he insisted. ’Tell me just how ready for me you are."

"Yes, damn you, Chase Colfax," she cried. "I’m ready! I want you! What more do you want from me?"

He didn’t answer. He showed her. Entering her with a force that made her lose her breath at the intense shock of pleasure that shot through her, Chase took control. He moved in and out of her, deeply and so leisurely she thought she would go out of her mind. But every time she tried to move faster, he would only go slower.

Realizing he was determined to set the pace, she gritted her teeth and tried to match her restless needs to his moderate stride. Beads of perspiration broke out on her face at the effort it took to hold back, but finally she was able to slow her responses down somewhat. Then, all at once, Chase started going faster and harder, and Trinity responded gladly. "Chase!" she moaned. Her body was ablaze from the desire for him that he was so expertly creating inside her.

Suddenly, he stopped all motion. "Don’t move," he commanded thickly. "Don’t move, and I’ll start again."

She stopped in utter surprise, and he began his movements once more—long, mind-blowing, body-destroying strokes, in and out of her. And every time she would involuntarily arch up into him, Chase would stop the stroking and wait until she was still.

She was aching, she was throbbing, and just when she didn’t think she could take it anymore, he would start again—long, slow, thrusting motions. Her head tossed feverishly back and forth on the pillow, her hair wet with not only her sweat, but Chase’s as well. She could tell how much of an effort it was for him to hold back, but for some damnable reason he continued with his torture. And all Trinity could say was, "Please, please, please," over and over, like some long-forgotten incantation, while Chase grated, "Not yet, not yet."

By making her lie absolutely still while he stroked voluptuously in and out of her, he was punishing her, he was pleasuring her and he was tearing her heart apart.

Trinity’s restraint broke, snapping in two, and she started pushing against him, holding him tightly, not caring whether he stopped or not. But he didn’t this time, for his control had broken, too.

Chase’s fingers bit into her buttocks, pulling her up to him, and he drove into her, time after time, until the world exploded around them and they both lay spent and exhausted, their bodies gradually coming down from the heights to which their passion had carried them.

Trinity silently cried herself to sleep that night, and awoke the next morning to find she was alone in an empty apartment. Dragging herself into the bathroom, she filled the tub and added a capful of fragrant bath oil that Chase had once bought for her, saying it was a gift for both of them. Then, immersing herself up to her neck in the soothing warmth of the water, she tried to wash away the pain that Chase had caused with his lovemaking.

It wasn’t so much the bruises on her body that Trinity worried about. She knew they would fade in time. No, rather, it was the injury to her soul that she knew would never heal. It was a permanent hurt that Chase, with his cruel, humiliating game of domination, had inflicted so ruthlessly.

Trinity looked disgustedly at the quilt she had been trying to work on. For the first time that she could remember, the thought of the amount of time that it would take to finish one of her quilting projects staggered her, and the countless rows of stitches held no allure. She just couldn’t seem to get interested in it.

Pushing back the chair and getting up. Trinity walked around the quilting frame to one of the living-room windows. What in the world was wrong with her? There didn’t seem to be any direction to her life anymore. Even the farm work seemed endless and too much for her to handle.

She had been feeling slightly off color for days now. As a matter of fact, when Trinity stopped to think about it, she hadn’t really felt well for quite some time, but she had been so preoccupied with loving Chase that she had brushed off the fact that she might be getting ill.

Mentally shrugging, she focused her gaze toward the meadow. Spring had come, and ordinarily, Trinity would have been excited about the prospect. The traces of new life appearing in every nook and cranny around the countryside should have lifted her spirits.

Bluebonnets, Indian paintbrush and clover would soon carpet the fields with riotous color. Last year, she had taken Stephanie and Tray for a picnic in the middle of a glorious field of wild flowers. She couldn’t help but wonder if she would have the energy to do it again this year.

The phone rang, and it was Sissy. She came straight to the point. "How are you today? Are you feeling any better?"

"I don’t think so." Trinity laughed ruefully. "In fact, I think I’m feeling worse."

"Trinity, I think you should go to the doctor. This has been going on for a couple of weeks now."

"I’m sure it will pass. I must have just picked up a bug."

There was a hesitant pause. "Trinity . . . have you thought that you might be pregnant?"

"Pregnant!" Trinity exploded. "Have you lost your mind? Of course I’m not pregnant."

"It’s not as extraordinary a thought as you’re making it out to be," Sissy pointed out with unnerving logic. "Did you and Chase use any sort of birth control?"

Trinity sat down in a nearby chair. "Naturally, I did. Do you think I’m crazy? Irresponsible?"

"No, certainly not, hon. But this is exactly how you felt when you were pregnant with Stephanie."

Trinity pressed her hand to her forehead and moaned. "I suppose it could happen. Wouldn’t you just know I’d be in the ten percent for whom that birth-control method fails?" She stopped herself. "No. It can’t be! I’m sure I’ll feel better by tomorrow."

But she didn’t. In fact, by eleven o’clock the next morning, she was seriously considering going back to bed. Sissy had already been over, arguing unsuccessfully that, whether or not Trinity was pregnant, she needed to see a doctor.

How could she disagree? No doubt Sissy was right, but Trinity just wasn’t ready to deal with whatever it was that the doctor would tell her. Surely she would begin to feel better soon.

Sitting in her kitchen, she was eyeing the sink full of dirty dishes with an unusual degree of aversion when the phone rang. She padded listlessly to the phone. "Hello."

"Trinity, this is Chase."

Her knees buckled under her, causing her to fall into the chair next to the phone. Damn it, she didn’t need a phone call from Chase piled on top of everything else! She was feeling absolutely rotten . . . Sissy was worried about her . . . she didn’t even want to think about what Larry’s reaction would be . . . she hadn’t been able to quilt for days . . . the sink was full of dirty dishes . . .

"Trinity! Can you hear me? Do we have a bad connection?"

"I—I can hear you, Chase. What do you want?"

The hauntingly familiar sound of his voice answered her from thousands of miles away. "I want you to fly here. This trip is going to take much longer than I realized, and I want you here, with me."

Frowning, Trinity rubbed her forehead. Now would be the perfect time to tell him their affair was over. If she could convince Chase that she never wanted to see him again, it would eliminate the grief of trying to break it off while facing him. "I don’t really care what you want, Chase. It doesn’t matter anymore. We’re through."

"Trinity . . . we’ve got to talk. I’m in London now, but tomorrow I’ll be in Geneva. I’ll make the arrangements for your flight from this end. Meet me, and we’ll get everything straightened out between us."

"No, Chase," she contradicted firmly. "It’s over between us. No purpose would be served by my coming there."

"Hear me out! I’ve got to explain about what happened between us the night before I left, and I can’t do it over the phone."

Trinity shook her head—she didn’t want to hear about that final night they had been together—and then realized Chase couldn’t see her. She had to persuade him that she meant exactly what she was saying. As hard as it was to break up with Chase over the phone, it would be ten times worse trying to do it face to face.

She forced her voice into a sarcastic drawl. "I’m positive you’ll remember, Chase, since you’ve kept bringing it up from time to time, that when we first started our affair, you agreed to certain conditions. And one of them was that I would set the time limit."

"Trinity, please—"

"I’m setting the time limit, Chase. It’s over. To quote you, what we had, if anything, is gone. There’s no need to drag it out. Good-bye, Chase."

Trinity didn’t move for a long time after she hung up the receiver. She just sat by the phone, thinking. She was sure that, if she sat there long enough, she would find some sort of poetic justice in the fact that she had been able to repeat to Chase what he had so long ago snarled to the unhappy Melissa.

However, it wasn’t really important. The way Trinity felt now, nothing would ever be important again. She felt numb and she hoped she stayed that way for a long, long time. Absolutely sure that she had left no doubt in Chase’s mind that their relationship was over, Trinity felt strangely lifeless.

She had called it an affair. It had been a love affair only on her part. But no more. Her love for Chase was quite dead. It had died the night before he had left for Europe—the night she had finally faced the fact that Chase would never love her.