Silver Miracles (6 page)

Trinity had thought that by coming here tonight, she might be able to learn more about Chase, and in several ways, she had. She had learned a few personal facts that could go a long way toward explaining the world-weary man who was Chase Colfax. She had also learned that, even though he was the type of man who could rip into the earth, he would not do it irresponsibly and that he had a comprehensive concern for the country and its problems.

But what did he feel about her? What about the ache that had been inside of her since he had first kissed her? Was it all on her part? She could have sworn that his attraction for her was every bit as great as hers was for him. And yet, he had hardly put a hand on her tonight, exhibiting a sort of mystifying, cold indifference toward her.

Trinity wasn’t entirely sure what it was that she wanted, but she knew it wasn’t the food that she was trying to choke down. If she was hungry for anything, it was for Chase. What that said about her, she didn’t even want to think. But she had never in her life felt so needful of being touched— touched, that is, by Chase Colfax.

At last, giving up all pretense of eating and putting her fork down, Trinity gave a slight shake of her head. "Chase, what’s wrong?"

He didn’t answer her. Instead, he asked tersely, "Are you through eating?"

"Yes." She had just noticed that he hadn’t eaten much either.

"Come on, then," he jerked out gruffly. "I need a drink."

He led her toward the back of the house to a room different from the one they had previously been in. This room seemed slightly cozier, warmer. Maybe because it was obviously the place where Chase spent a lot of his time.

Books and newspapers were stacked here and there on the floor. A large-screened TV was in one corner of the room, and in the middle sat an oversized modular sofa covered in a lush rust velvet. The many pieces were fitted together to form a giant bed—an ideal place from which to read or to watch TV, Trinity guessed.

Chase didn’t even stop to notice the sudden hesitancy on her part to sit down. Actually, she couldn’t decide where to sit, and finally settled on the edge of one of the pieces that seemed to form a sort of chaise lounge.

Chase quickly poured them two brandies, handing Trinity’s to her and gulping his down with one swallow, then pouring himself another. Stalking over to the sofa, Chase threw himself down opposite Trinity and studied her with a piercing scrutiny that was disconcerting in its intensity.

Trinity returned his gaze steadily, thinking that this strange mood of his was getting a little ridiculous, but determined to find out what was wrong.

Taking one more swallow of his brandy, Chase commanded roughly, "Tell me about Stephanie."

"What about Stephanie?" At the moment, Trinity’s brain couldn’t sort through its surprise to decide what he could possibly want to know about her daughter.

"About her father, the man who was your lover." The words were bit out between clenched teeth, and, when Trinity didn’t immediately respond, because she was trying to decide why he would want to know such a thing, Chase continued with a sneer. "Or is it too painful for you? Does his love hurt too much to think about?"

"No," Trinity answered slowly, her green eyes perplexed. "It doesn’t hurt, because I have only good memories."

"Well then, where the hell is he?" Chase snapped out. He rose abruptly and paced over to the bar, pouring himself another brandy. His obvious anger was revealed by his very controlled movements. "What kind of man would leave you to raise his child alone?"

"A dead man, Chase," Trinity declared bluntly. "He died of leukemia five months before Stephanie was born."

Chase turned and stared at her broodingly, his light-blue eyes missing nothing about her. He took another drink of his brandy, slower this time. "Then tell me about him."

"Okay," she agreed calmly, shrugging her shoulders. "I don’t mind talking about it if you really want to know."

"I really want to know," he assured her caustically.

"His name was Stephen, and I met him in college. We fell in love and were going to be married as soon as we graduated, but Stephen was hospitalized suddenly and then . . . there was no time left."

"Did he know you were pregnant?"

"No. I didn’t want to add to his burden by telling him. He was just too sick, and there was nothing he could have done about it anyway."

Chase pondered the swirling brandy. "He could have married you," he shot out, "given the child his name."

"I gave the baby his name—Stephanie."

"It can’t have been easy for you"—Chase continued to pursue the subject with a bewildering relentlessness—"even in this day and age. Did you think about having an abortion?"

"Not . . . for . . . one . . . minute." Her loud, clear and firm reply echoed around the still room.

Chase raked his hands through the sliver length of his hair and slanted her a considering glance. "Do you still love him?"

Trinity paused for a moment, thinking out her answer carefully. She wanted to give as honest an answer as she could. Somehow she sensed that it was terribly important. "Part of me will always love him. He gave me Stephanie and I’ll never apologize to anyone for that. But it was so long ago, and life goes on. I’m not still in love with him. Does that answer your question?"

Chase paced back to the bar and set his glass down. Hunching his shoulders, he appeared to be deliberating some weighty matter.

Trinity regarded him quietly, waiting for his next move, watching the way the muscles in his upper arms tightened tensely as he leaned against the bar.

Why this strange man should have the power to affect her so greatly was beyond her. But every time he breathed, there was an answering movement inside of her, and she didn’t know what to do about it.

Maybe tomorrow she would think about the ramifications, but right now all she could concentrate on was the way the breadth of his shoulders stretched out the black silk of his shirt and the manner in which the gray slacks molded his lean hips, following gently the curve of his firm male buttocks and on down the long, muscled length of his legs.

Trinity couldn’t stand the strained silence one minute more. She had to get up, go to him, find out what was wrong. Tentatively placing a hand on his shoulder, she jumped when he quickly turned.

The heat emanating from his blue eyes was a tangible thing. Boring straight into her, his eyes effortlessly transferred their raging passion to her. His two hands cupped her face, looking at her, absorbing every detail, from the slight trembling of her lips to the matching heat in her eyes.

"Oh, Trinity," Chase muttered thickly, "I honestly think there’s only one thing that I can do with you."

His lips were hard and sure, and Trinity opened her mouth to his without hesitancy. All night long, she had yearned just for this, and she gave herself up to the shivers of sweetness their joined lips were creating within her.

Her arms slid around his neck, and her fingers threaded into the rich vitality of the silver-whiteness of his hair. Lifting her in his arms, Chase carried her the short distance to the sofa and lowered her onto the sensuous velvet material.

Following her down, he murmured into her throat, "How I kept my hands off you all evening is beyond me."

"Why did you try?" Trinity gasped, as his hand found the one tie that secured the dress around her waist and undid it. Slowly he unwrapped the dress from about her, leaving only a pair of narrow panties to keep her from being completely naked.

"God!" Chase groaned huskily at the sight of her. Compulsively, he ran a trembling hand over the silky texture of her skin, closing on one swollen breast and lowering his mouth to its tip. "You’ll never know the effort it took, but if I had touched you before now, I couldn’t have stopped, and I had to ask you about Stephanie."

His lips and teeth played with one hard nipple, while his hand caressed the other. His words were warm around the pink tip, fondling it, heating it, in an entirely new and exciting way.

Trinity squirmed against him and murmured, "Why?"

"I had to make sure there was no one else. I want you too badly to share you."

"Oh, Chase," Trinity whispered weakly, pulling his mouth up to hers again and capturing his tongue.

His hand had lowered to go between her legs, skillfully pulling the last scrap of material off and then gently prying them apart. Trinity moaned as her body received two of his fingers, and she arched shamelessly up to him, giving away just how ready she was for him.

"God, Trinity! You are the most beautiful, the most desirable, woman I have ever known. Tell me Stephen never touched you like this, before I go out of my mind."

Trinity was too crazed by the desire his kneading hand and caressing fingers were causing to do anything but tell the truth. "It was just once," she moaned. "Nothing like this."

"Did he make you feel as wild as you do with me?" he persisted. "I have to know."

"No," she gasped. "I’ve never felt like . . . this before. Never."

"Say you want me as much as I want you," Chase commanded huskily.

There was a split second in time when Trinity’s mind cleared and she thought about what was happening. What would the result be of giving herself to Chase? Would it mean the same thing to him as it did to her? And what did it mean to her?

But then she felt Chase’s fingers push into her, and she had to answer. "Yes, Chase, yes!"

What was the use of denying it? Their lovemaking was something that had to happen. She was lying naked under him, her body moist with its desire—a desire that had been steadily building for two days and three nights, and there was nothing she could do about it. Glorying in the undulating rhythm of his tongue and of his fingers inside her, there was only one thing she wanted more, and she had to have it.

Fumbling for the catch on the waistband of his trousers, her words were almost a plea. "Chase . . . please . . . please make love to me."

Removing his fingers from her fervent body, he assisted her. In less than a minute, he was undressed, and with slitted eyes glazed with desire, Trinity reached for him.

This passion the two of them shared had to be taken care of, and it would have been akin to attempting to turn back the tide for either of them to try to stop it.

His tongue was circling her ear, and she felt the soft waves of his breath against the small opening, whispering, "There’s no way I’ll let you go now."

He entered her at once, with a hard, driving motion, causing their need to scorch through them both, sending them into the frenzied, beautiful movements of passion. The urgent fire that raced through their blood reached a quick boiling point and. as Trinity pushed against Chase’s thrust, their desire bubbled over, drenching them both in the wonder of their absolute satisfaction.

A long time later, Trinity heard a phone ringing from somewhere close by. She stirred and felt Chase’s arms tighten around her as he reached over the side of the couch and picked up the phone, answering with a husky, impatient, "Yes?"

At the sound of whoever was on the other end, Trinity could feel all the relaxation—the gratifying result of their lovemaking—leave Chase’s body. Lying in the crook of his arms, Trinity moved her head curiously so that she could see his face. By now, she could hear that the caller was feminine, although she couldn’t understand the words the person was speaking. But Chase’s compressed face told her all she needed to know, and Trinity decided she didn’t really want to hear this conversation.

As she attempted to get up, Chase’s arms bound her even closer, so that she was forced to lie where she was and hear him snarl cuttingly, "Forget it. It’s over, Melissa. Accept it."

A shiver ran up Trinity’s spine at the coldness she heard in Chase’s voice, and she knew, if she could see his eyes, the ice that she had fought so hard to remove would be firmly back In place.

He had paused, apparently listening, but then continued brutally. "What we once had, if anything, is gone. There’s no need to drag it out. Good-bye, Melissa."

Chase hung up the phone, and Trinity could feel some of his tension subside. He apologized in a clipped, husky voice. "I’m sorry."

"Chase . . ." Trinity murmured, "couldn’t you have been kinder?"

"With some people, cruelty is the best form of kindness. We won’t be bothered by her again," Chase declared with complete confidence.

If that remark was supposed to reassure her, it failed miserably. Trinity escaped his hold. Getting up, she began to dress. She stepped into her panties, then picked up her dress from the floor, wrapped it around her, and tied it firmly in place.

Chase watched her with hooded eyes from his vantage point on the couch that had made such a successful bed. "Where do you think you’re going?"

"Home," she answered succinctly, pushing a heavy swath of hair behind one ear.

"You can stay the night. You told me that Stephanie is sleeping over at your sister’s."

"The fact that I can doesn’t alter the fact that I’m not going to," Trinity muttered, scanning the floor for her shoes.

"Why?"

"Look." Trinity expelled her breath with a sigh of exasperation. "Just consider this the end of another one-night stand and leave it at that. Okay?"

"No! It’s not okay, Trinity." Chase got up off the bed with a movement of swift grace and walked over to her.

Trinity located one shoe and then turned to seize the other. She was trying very hard not to look at Chase. His presence was an enticing temptation, and it was too soon after their lovemaking for her to forget just how powerfully his body had pleasured her—if she ever could forget.

Straightening, she heard Chase behind her, his voice grating with annoyance. "What’s the matter, Trinity? You’re acting like an outraged virgin who has just been taken advantage of. And," he drawled disparagingly, "you were sure no virgin."

"No," Trinity agreed bitterly, swinging around to face him, a shoe in each hand. "No, I wasn’t a virgin. But I lost my virginity in an act of love, and it has suddenly occurred to me that there was no love involved in what just happened between us."