Something to Believe In (19 page)

“I will bring my platinum card,” he said with mock seriousness.
“You can eat out the whole restaurant if you feel the need.”

Her laughter filled the cracks and crevices of his heart with
light that was only slightly dimmed at the knowledge that he had ulterior
motives for the dinner.

Somehow, he had to convince Lilah to go back to New York with
him.

Now more than ever, he knew he wouldn’t allow a day to go by
without his children with him.

And so, the solution was quite simple: he’d have to get Lilah
to marry him.

The bigger question was how to marry Lilah without sacrificing
all he’d built in his newfound political career.

He thought of the sonogram photos in his possession and their
images renewed his resolve; failure wasn’t an option.

CHAPTER THIRTY

L
ILAH
FOUND
C
ELLY
IN
the gift shop moving
some merchandise around while she kept Pops busy sorting shells that’d gotten
mixed up. Lilah smiled and pressed a quick kiss to Pops’s forehead and then went
to Celly, unable to suppress her grin.

“Yah look like yah de cat dat ate de clumsy bird,” Celly
observed with a keen eye. “What’s put dat silly grin on yah face?”

“Oh, it’s just a beautiful day and I’m loving life,” Lilah
answered, going to the T-shirts and straightening. Then she remembered her
sonogram pictures and fished them from her pocket to thrust at Celly. “Look! New
pics of the babies,” she said.

Celly gazed at the pictures and grimaced. “It’s a good ting we
don’t always see what’s growing. Looks like an alien. I wait until de babies get
here, when dey no longer raw.”

Lilah chuckled. “Okay. No more sonogram pictures for you.”

“Is dat all you singing about?” she asked.

“Well, mostly,” Lilah said.

“Yah a bad liar, girl. Spit it out.”

“Okay, I’m going to dinner with Justin tonight. He’s taking me
to Allamanda.”

Celly whistled her approval. “Fancy eatin’. What’s the
occasion? Yah agree to let him be yah mon?”

Lilah colored and laughed uncomfortably. “Unfortunately, it’s
not so simple as just allowing him to be a part of my life. We love each other
but sometimes you have to look at the bigger picture. He has a promising
political career that he has to protect and knocking up an island girl probably
wasn’t on his agenda.”

“Agendas change,” Celly said stubbornly with a glower. “He’s
not being a mon and standing up to his responsibility?”

“Oh, no, not at all,” Lilah exclaimed, defending Justin. “I
won’t let him throw everything away for me. Sure, it sounds good in the short
term because selfishly, I want to be with him, but that’s a recipe for
resentment later. I’d rather practice at being friends and that’s why he’s
taking me to dinner. We’re going as friends.”

“Friends?” Celly repeated, not buying it for a second.

Lilah felt the heat crawl into her cheeks as the memory of the
sexual tension that exploded between them before the doctor’s appointment
returned full force, and she remembered how easily it would’ve been for them
both to simply tear each other’s clothes off. That’s definitely not what a
friend did to another friend. But Celly didn’t know that and there was no reason
she should have to know.

“Yes,” Lilah maintained stubbornly. “Friends. It’s better this
way.”

“So, let me understand...he wants to be in yah life wit de
babies, but you’re pushing him away so he can be a politician? Girl, yah a
bigger donkey dan I took yah for. Dat’s plain crazy talk and foolish to boot.
Yah never push away a good mon.
Evah.
A good mon
don’t just fall from de sky and land in yah lap. If a mon comes along wants to
be a right mon and do well by his woman...yah let him!”

Lilah scowled a little, surprised by Celly’s brusque manner.
“He wants to live in New York. I want to live here. It’s not going to work out
anyway. We might as well admit to that now before things get messy. This way, we
remain friends and Justin is always an active part of his kids’ lives.”

“How active can a mon be when he’s so far away?” Celly demanded
to know. “Can a mon trow a ball to his son from New York? Can he teach a boy to
ride a bike or swim from hundreds of miles away? Can he keep de boys away from
his little girl from New York?”

“Of course not. I will do those things for the babies,” Lilah
answered, stung. Pops surprised them all by chiming in with a growl.

“That no good man of Lisa’s...I knew he was a bad apple from
the start. Do you know how I knew?” he asked without looking up from his task as
he took great care in separating each colored shell. “When Lisa got pregnant
with Lora, he wouldn’t even take time off for the birth. As it was he was damn
late. Lora’d been born and bathed by the time he sauntered in, acting like he’d
been the one to do all the work. Worthless, I tell you. I always thought he was
worthless and Grams didn’t think much of him, neither.” He nodded as if
listening to someone else who’d just validated his statement and then went back
to his shell-sorting. “A real man makes sacrifices for the people he loves.”

Lilah was a bit stunned. Pops had never said a bad word against
her father, although she’d always wondered how Pops had managed such restraint
given how her father had broken her mom’s heart.

Celly gave a short nod of approval. “See, girl? Even yah Pops
is saying yah mon is worth holding on to. He’s making plenty sacrifice for yah.
Stop being a donkey and go after him.”

Lilah stared after Celly and Pops as they left the gift shop.
Celly had always been so protective of her. Now she was practically thumping her
on the head for being protective of herself. She told herself she was doing all
this for Justin, but was she actually being selfish? Justin had the most to lose
yet he was willing to risk whatever it took to have her and the babies around
him.

Her elation slowly deflated. Was Celly right? The thought
weighed heavily on her mind as she left to get ready.

* * *

J
USTIN
HAD
OFFERED
TO
pick up Lilah but
she’d insisted on driving herself, which only made him realize his uphill battle
was a steeper incline than he previously thought. But when she entered the
upscale restaurant, wearing a pretty white linen sundress that molded to her
rounded curves and distended stomach, he couldn’t help but stare. Her hair was
twisted up in a messy twist, but the heat and the subsequent ride in the Jeep
had already loosened a few strands to curl against the nape of her neck and
frame her jaw. She looked delicate yet strong, a sexy contradiction that summed
up Lilah perfectly. He immediately rose and pulled her chair out for her.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that,” she said with a shy
smile that bordered on embarrassment.

“I didn’t have to, I wanted to. A woman should always be
treated like a lady—that’s something my mom tried to pound into my head.
Unfortunately, for a time I’d forgotten the lesson.”

“That’s sweet. Do you get along with your mother?” she asked,
sliding into the seat and placing the napkin in her lap, though admittedly,
there wasn’t much room for the napkin because of her belly.

Justin pulled his attention away from her body and busied
himself with his own napkin, if only to have something to do because his mind
was conjuring all sorts of activities that didn’t include a fork and spoon. How
was it that she was becoming even more beautiful to him? He was spiraling deeper
and deeper and there seemed no stopping his descent.

Last night, he couldn’t help his thoughts from wandering into
X-rated territory, which certainly hadn’t helped his ability to sleep. Now,
after the sonogram experience and the tease of sexual innuendo between them, he
was burning hot with the desire to once again feel her close around him. Surely,
this wasn’t normal. Her stomach was no longer flat and taut but it didn’t
matter. He wanted to caress and kiss that rounded belly and hold her tightly
each night. He wanted to coax those sweet little mewling noises from her throat
as he touched her in intimate places and swallow her sharp breaths as he plunged
inside her. He wanted to taste the nipples of each rapidly swelling breast until
she writhed helplessly against her rising desire.

“Justin?”

Lilah’s gentle inquiry snapped Justin back to the present and
he realized he’d gone on a mental walkabout as he’d fantasized about what he
desperately wanted to do to her. “Ah, um, I’m sorry,” he stated with a flush.
“Yes, you asked if I got along with my mom...yeah, mostly. She’s a proud woman
with a soft center. She likes to organize charity balls and fancy dinners with
seven-course meals and she loves to decorate for the holidays. Any holiday,
actually. When you walk into her house, you have no doubt what season you’re in.
She has a full decorating staff to help her transform her house into a
wonderland of expensive furnishings.”

“Oh,” Lilah said, a little subdued. “She sounds
terrifying.”

Realizing he’d said the wrong thing, he tried to clarify. “My
mom is very sweet. You’d probably like her a lot. I just don’t fully appreciate
her talents because I’m a guy. To me, there is no difference between green and
teal. And peach is not a color it’s a fruit.” At that Lilah giggled and he
relaxed. “You know, now that I think about it, you and her would probably get
along because of your artistic talents. My mom loves the arts. She can spend
hours staring at dusty old paintings at the museums.”

“You don’t like art?”

“Yeah, I do. I just have a short attention span. I don’t want
to analyze and discuss it for hours. I like what I like and I move on...unless
it’s something I love. Then I purchase and put it on my walls but I still don’t
want to have a discourse on form, shadow and light. I just want to enjoy it.” He
paused, then took a chance that he knew could backfire. “I’d love to see your
art.”

Lilah stilled, her expression becoming deadly serious. Or
perhaps it was fear lurking in her gaze. Either way, somehow he knew if she were
to show him her art, it would mean something to them both. “Why?” she
whispered.

“Because I fell in love with an artist. Her art is a part of
her and there isn’t a part of that woman that I don’t want to know and love.”
Tears filled her eyes and she seemed to struggle with the words she wanted to
say. He knew this was a turning point, something tremendously momentous between
them. He pushed a little harder, not willing to give up any ground he’d gained
inch by inch. “I think that woman I’m madly in love with is afraid of showing me
her true self, and because her art is painted with her soul, and she’s afraid if
I see the real her, I’ll run away.” She swallowed, her eyes becoming luminous.
He reached out to grasp her hand from across the table. “But she doesn’t have to
worry. Everything about her I love. There is nothing that could scare me away.
Nothing.
”

* * *

H
ER
HEART
HAMMERED
AGAINST
her breastbone almost to the
point of pain. He’d seen her naked yet she’d never allowed him to see her. What
he was asking...she nearly collapsed under the weight of it. He had no idea how
right he was. Her art was a tangible expression of her soul and to let him
see...would render her totally bare to his scrutiny. The fearful voices in her
head whispered all the reasons why she ought to shut him down—self-preservation,
sheltering fear and crippled self-esteem—but another voice, one that was growing
stronger, almost shouting above the fearful chorus, urged her to take that leap
and fly, to let go of the past and run with open arms into her future.

A future with Justin.

“What if you don’t like it?”
What if you
don’t like me? The real me?

“Impossible. I’ve caught glimpses and you’re amazing.”

She didn’t know how to respond. All her life she’d run away
from anything that resembled commitment, whether it was romantic, personal or
just responsibilities. She didn’t mean to run, she just ended up doing it and
then regretted her actions later. Her instinct in this situation should’ve urged
her to run, to remind him that they ought to simply remain friends. But that
option wasn’t appealing in the least. She hated the idea of smiling and
shrugging nonchalantly when Justin inevitably moved on with someone else because
she’d continually pushed him away. She loathed the idea of not seeing him walk
through the front door with a smile on his face reserved for her. And she
particularly detested the idea of watching as someone else helped raise their
babies when it was his visitation week or month. The cold hard fact of the
situation was staring at her in the face, daring her to ignore what was plain:
she loved him and she was willing to take the risk.

“If you’re not ready...” Justin started, disappointment in his
tone, but Lilah cut in breathlessly, forcing the words out before she chickened
out.

“Yes! Yes! You can see my art. I want to share that part of
myself with you.”

Just please, please handle with
care,
she prayed fervently. There was so much riding on this one
thing.

But she was going to leap—and hope she didn’t fall flat on her
face.

Again.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

L
ILAH
LED
J
USTIN
TOWARD
the atrium through the
lighted path that provided a dim glow in the sultry night. The humidity was like
a warm caress on her bare shoulders, an air kiss she’d come to love. Justin
wiped away the sweat on his brow but otherwise didn’t complain; he was too
focused on her.

Dinner had been exquisite but she felt mildly guilty for not
enjoying the experience to its fullest. Her mind had been going in different
places, but mostly she wondered how Justin would react to her art.

And now the moment was here.

She pushed open the glass atrium doors and walked inside. The
closed heat was nearly stifling and so she left the doors open. Within minutes
she had a few lights on and then led Justin to her secret room where she stashed
her art.

As Justin watched her produce a door out of the wall, his brow
arched. “A secret door?” he remarked, impressed. “That’s very cool. I always
wanted to find a secret door in one of our houses. Never happened.”

“You poor thing,” she murmured with a small smile. She flicked
the light and breathed deeply before reaching on her tiptoes for the rolled-up
pieces that were her best. Justin was surprised by the sheer number of paintings
she had rolled up in the small space and commented on it.

“I think you’ve outgrown this secret spot,” he observed with a
wink to keep things light.

He had no idea how true his statement was. She’d begun to
realize that she couldn’t hide in a closet her entire life—partly due to the
sessions with Dr. Veronica, but also due to Justin and the babies.

She unrolled the painting carefully and attached it to the
easel. It was her first painting when the depression had hit. Just looking at it
again brought out a feeling of desolation and loneliness but she knew it was
simply an echo and not a true reflection of what she was feeling now.

Justin gazed at the piece and his silence frightened her. She
was afraid to ask so she also remained silent. When he finally spoke, it wasn’t
anything she expected.

“You’re a master.” His simple, yet shocked statement floored
her and she didn’t know how to react. She frowned with disappointment, believing
he was being effusive in his praise to spare her feelings. She started to reach
for the piece to roll it back up again but he stopped her, cupping her face and
regarding her with serious awe. “Lilah...I’m not saying this to feed your ego. I
came here prepared to love whatever I saw, but I never expected to see such
quality.”

“Justin, I know that’s not true even though I love you for
trying,” she said, through a wash of tears. “I’ve had masters evaluate my work
and they called it, ‘infantile at its worst, moderately adequate at its best.’ I
was rejected from the most prestigious art school in Florida and it nearly
destroyed me. I vowed never to subject my art to that kind of criticism again.
And I haven’t. You’re the first person I’ve let see my art, aside from Carys,
but she’s a child.”

“Lilah, I don’t know what your art looked like ten years ago or
whenever you submitted your application, but what I’m looking at right now is
the work of someone who can not only nail the technical aspects of the medium
but has the artistic talent that gives a piece that extra something. Just
looking at this...makes me want to cry and that’s what art is supposed to do
right? Evoke an emotion?” At her halting nod, he added without reservation, “I
want to buy this. Right now. How much?”

“I—I don’t know,” she stammered. “It’s not for sale. I can’t
sell it.”

“Why not?” he asked.

She wondered why she was reluctant to part with it. It felt
like selling off a piece of her but artists sell their work, that’s what they
did to make a living. How was she ever going to change and grow into the artist
she wanted to be if she didn’t start somewhere? She supposed selling a piece to
Justin would be a gentle start to that change. But how could she charge the
father of her children? “How much do you think it’s worth?” she asked with
uncertainty. Maybe a hundred dollars?

“Easily two grand,” he assessed with a critical eye, startling
her. At her expression, he misunderstood and amended his offer. “You’re right,
that’s lowballing. Would you take three thousand for it?”

“God, Justin, that’s too much,” she gasped. “I can’t let you
spend that on my painting. I just can’t.”

“Fine. Then let me take it on consignment. Artists do this all
the time. I will pay to have it framed and hung. And then we’ll see how it does
on its own. Do you have any others like this?”

“I have a whole series,” she admitted.

“May I see them?”

She nodded and pulled the rolls. They worked together to hang
them on the easels. The growing pride in Justin’s expression as he perused each
piece caused the air in her lungs to feel constricted. She’d never imagined she
could be so dependent on someone else’s opinion after the debacle with the
Florida art school but here she was, holding her breath as Justin evaluated her
work. Fresh tears sprang to her eyes when he announced without reservation, “I
want them all.”

“Are you sure? Maybe just the one would be better. What if you
spend all this money to have it framed and they don’t sell at all?” she asked,
voicing one of the fears jabbering in her ear, dampening her joy.

“I sincerely doubt that will happen. However, I will keep them
all if they don’t sell. I want them all anyway but since you don’t want to sell
to me...”

“It’s not that I wouldn’t sell them to you...I just don’t feel
right doing so,” she clarified. “I would give them to you.”

“And I would never allow you to give away your work. This
is...” His voice caught and he paused to collect himself. “Lilah...I can only
hope our babies get half your talent. You are...incredible.”

The words stunned her, but the sentiment behind them, humbled
her beyond measure. She smiled through her tears and reached out her hand. If
there was ever a moment that she knew exactly what she wanted, this was it.

And she wanted him.

“Let’s go,” she said.

He accepted her hand but his brows bunched together in concern.
“Are you okay? Are you tired?”

“Not tired but I’m ready for bed.”

She sent him a coy look and his Adam’s apple bobbed as her
meaning sank in. She flipped off the lights and locked the atrium.

There were too many clothes between them.

And judging by Justin’s quickened step as they headed to
Lilah’s room, he couldn’t agree more.

By the time they reached her room, their desire had reached a
fever pitch as they tore at each other’s clothes, eager to feel skin against
skin. Would it always be this way with them? She hoped so. Justin’s touch
ignited a need she’d never experienced and she was greedy for more.

She’d become almost insatiable.

He rained kisses down her neck, to her breasts. He didn’t give
her an opportunity to worry about her changing body as he worshipped each new
curve and valley created by her burgeoning pregnancy. If anything, he seemed
unable to get enough of her and his urgency fed her own. She straddled him and
he entered her with one gentle push. Their lovemaking slowed to a sweet and
gentle pace as Justin made allowances for her condition. Soon, Lilah had reached
her peak and she shuddered all around him, crying out as wave after wave crashed
down inside her, wrenching a prolonged orgasm from her body that left her
gasping for air from the sheer pleasure erupting from her nerve endings.

“God, you’re so damn sexy,” he said in a tight voice as he soon
found his own release, bathing her with his love and gasping her name over and
over as his thrusts slowly stilled and his breathing was as harsh as her
own.

This was true between them—this connection that defied all
reason.

And she couldn’t deny its power.

* * *

J
USTIN
LAY
WITH
HIS
HEAD
near Lilah’s
stomach, pressing intermittent kisses to her rounded belly as he tried to catch
his breath. Her gloriously naked body glowed in the dim moonlight as the sweat
dried on their skin. She looked like a proud heathen goddess with her voluptuous
curves softening her formerly lean body with a little more padding that he found
incredibly sexy.

The night sounds buzzed all around them as the ceiling fans
whirred to push the hot air from the room. Justin was blissfully content until
he heard the muffled vibration of his cell phone tucked away in his discarded
shorts.

Lilah lifted on her elbows and frowned. “What is that
sound?”

He sighed and rolled to his feet. “It’s my cell phone.”

“Who would call so late at night?” she asked, puzzled.

Justin knew but didn’t want to say. He’d been ducking Rudy’s
calls. By now the man had probably hit DEFCON 1 on the panic level and was one
whiskey away from calling the FBI to report him missing. When Rudy’s name
flashed on the screen in a frantic pulse, Justin pressed his lips together in
agitation but answered anyway. “Hey, Rudy, what’s up?”

“Holy shit!” Rudy exploded at Justin’s attempt to sound casual.
“Where the hell have you been? I haven’t been able to raise you on the phone for
over a week! I was about to call the authorities and report you missing.”

Called it.
Justin rolled his eyes
and then gestured to Lilah that he was going to take the call outside. Once
clear, he said in a low tone, “First, calm down. Everything is fine. I just
wanted to enjoy a little time to myself without being harassed about work.
What’s so urgent that it couldn’t wait?”

“You tell me,” Rudy said, still heated. “A little bird has told
me something that really raised my blood pressure and I hope to God it’s not
true.”

The fine hairs on Justin’s neck rose but he remained cool.
“Yeah, such as?”

“Why St. John? Why not Tahiti or Fiji?” Rudy countered with
suspicion. “I wondered when you told me and it seemed an odd choice.
Particularly when you returned early from your first vacation and it was the
place of your father’s choosing for you. Given your relationship, I would’ve
thought that’d be the last place you’d want to return. So it got me to
thinking...”

“Spit it out, Rudy. It’s late.”

“Who’s the girl, Justin?”

And there it was. Somehow Rudy had sniffed out the truth. Or at
least some variation of it. He had a choice: lie to gain some time to work up to
telling the truth or just let the chips fall where they may and come clean. On
one hand it angered him that his personal business was on everyone else’s radar,
but then he knew that was the price of politics so he couldn’t rail too loudly.
Still, the reality of it sucked when it worked against you.

“Her name is Lilah and she’s...” not a girlfriend, not his
fiancée “...someone special to me. I’d appreciate some discretion. I’m not ready
to tell my parents yet.”

Rudy exhaled sharply but didn’t sound too sorry when he said,
“Sorry, bud. You should’ve returned my phone calls. Your parents left for St.
John on the 9:00 p.m. flight. My guess is they’ve already landed in St.
Thomas.”

“What the hell, Rudy!” Justin whispered harshly, agitated for
the intrusion and worried about Lilah. “What did you tell them?”

“Listen, you’re not the only one with a life on the line. Your
father’s reputation is at stake because he’s endorsing you, as are all of your
father’s supporters. We can’t have any kind of scandal rock the boat when we’re
so close to winning! Say goodbye to your island honey and be done with it.”

“It’s not that simple,” he ground out.

“No, it really is. Is she worth it? Who is she? No one that can
help your career, therefore, she has to go.” At Justin’s angry silence, Rudy
tried to tone down his harsh words by saying, “Listen, I get it. We’ve all had
someone in our past who felt like something special at the time, but trust me,
you don’t want to throw everything away over a sweet piece of ass. How about
this...after the election you can still hook up. Maybe we can even find a nice
little apartment for her in the city, somewhere out of the way or even better,
how are her secretarial skills? Maybe we could put her to work as a personal
assistant. Don’t worry, there are ways around these types of problems. But right
now, we need you to focus.”

Justin felt sick. And dirty. It was all he could do to keep
from throwing the phone into the wild, overgrown foliage lining the walkway.

“You there, Justin?” Rudy asked when Justin refrained from
responding for fear of saying something he couldn’t take back. “Say your
goodbyes. Take my word for it, it’s better this way.”

“Where are my parents staying?” he asked tightly.

“The Worchester. One of the suites.”

“I’ll be in touch,” Justin said curtly, and then clicked off.
His blood percolated with impotent rage. He felt trapped and suffocated. He
wanted to take Lilah and run away but there were so many lives connected to his
campaign that he couldn’t in good conscience screw over. Rudy, he couldn’t give
a rat’s ass about, but there were plenty of good, solid people in his employment
who gave up positions with the competitor because they’d believed in him. He
couldn’t let them down.

But he’d do anything to protect Lilah. And if Rudy so much as
breathed a word of his disgusting little proposal to Lilah, he’d put his fist in
Rudy’s slick, ass-kissing mouth.

“Justin?” Lilah’s voice floated through the open window.

“Coming,” he answered, returning inside with a false smile.

She turned sleepily on her side, rubbing her stomach as one of
the babies must’ve given her a little kick. “Who was that?”

“Campaign manager, Rudy. There’s a bit of a situation he wanted
to make sure I knew about.”