Silver Miracles

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Silver Miracles Page 8

by Preston, Fayrene


  "We’ll be fine, won’t we, Stephanie?" he questioned gently, looking down into the little girl’s flushed face and half-closed eyes. Miraculously, Stephanie nodded in agreement and nestled closer into Chase’s broad chest. He looked up at Trinity. "Just explain to me about Stephanie’s medication and then go on to bed."

  Hours later, Trinity awakened to a cold, bleak dawn. Snug and warm, she realized someone must have put extra quilts on her bed during the night. Her green eyes opened completely. Chase! It had to have been Chase.

  Lying very still, she listened for the barking sound of Stephanie’s cough. However, the steady hum of the steaming vaporizer was the only sound that reached her ears, and something else she couldn’t put a name to. Curiosity, mixed with a mother’s natural anxiety about her sick child, made her leave her bed.

  Trinity crept silently down the hallway, her long nightgown swishing around her bare legs as she moved, but she came to an abrupt stop in the doorway of the living room. The scene before her made the breath catch in her throat.

  Chase, cuddling a drowsy and contented Stephanie in his arms, was singing a soft, out-of-key lullaby. It was a lullaby that Trinity had never heard before—one about a beautiful, golden-haired little girl who was very precious to everyone who knew her. The song went on to say that when the little girl was sick, all of her friends became so very sad. Stephanie was enchanted and fighting extremely hard against falling asleep.

  Tears sprang to Trinity’s eyes, and she very quietly walked back to her bedroom, leaving alone the two people whom she now knew meant more to her than anything else in the world. Climbing on top of her bed, she turned her face into the pillow, trying to absorb this new knowledge.

  She had always known that Chase Colfax was a hard, cold man who could make her feel soft and hot with only a touch, a look or a smile. That had been obvious right from the start. But now she knew something else, also.

  She loved him. Totally, completely and absolutely—she loved Chase Colfax. It was an indisputable fact. There was only one question in her mind: What was she going to do about it?

  Trinity sensed a movement beside the bed and rolled over to find Chase standing there, watching her. His silver hair mussed and a night’s growth of beard on his face, the sight of him made her heart turn over with longing.

  "Do you feel better?" Chase sat down on the bed and took her hand in his.

  "Yes, thank you. You were right. I was nearly out on my feet."

  A smile curved his mouth, while his other hand combed silky brown strands of hair away from her face. "Stephanie’s asleep now. Her fever broke in the night, and she was able to eat some of the soup that you had left warming on the stove. Her breathing has improved quite a bit, and I think she’ll be all right now."

  "I know. I was just in there and saw the two of you." Trinity licked her dry lips and confessed, "I never expected you to call again."

  Carefully putting her hand down, he got up and walked to the end of the bed. Shadows from the dark corners of the room fell onto his face. "I’ve been out of town."

  That statement was not the most informative she had ever heard. She wanted to ask: Where have you been? Who have you been with? Instead, she heard herself saying, "Oh . . . well, I appreciate your coming over to help out. It was awfully nice of you."

  The blue of his eyes touched her with a vibrant sensuality that passed through the thinness of the nightgown and onto her bare skin, making her feel the beginnings of an uncomfortable warmth.

  Chase smiled knowingly and drawled, "I’m rarely nice, Trinity." He pulled out his billfold from a back pocket and took out a business card. Writing something on it, he handed it to her. "I’ll be in Dallas at one of these two numbers. Call me if you need me."

  #

  During the next few days. Stephanie’s physical condition improved, and Trinity at last had time to contemplate Chase’s last words. "Call me if you need me." That was an enigmatic statement if she’d ever heard one. What did he mean? Call me if Stephanie gets worse? Call me if you want me to make love to you? What?

  The unqualified truth was that she did need him—in every conceivable way. Her love for Chase had burned its way into her soul, destroying her contented life, making her feel half-complete without him. But she didn’t know if she could risk going to him.

  Yet she felt that Chase needed her, too. Perhaps, for the moment, he would only admit to a physical need, but it was a powerful one, nonetheless, and that powerful a desire must surely be a kind of love in itself. No one could want someone as badly as Chase wanted her and not feel something else, too.

  Maybe his wasn’t an all-consuming love in the way that hers was—not yet, anyway. But if she could teach him how to let his guard down and leave it down, how to open up and how to show his love more than just on a physical or a monetary level, they just might have a chance.

  Chase had shown her that he was capable of great tenderness. He had taken care of a sick, fractious child, a little girl who wasn’t his own, holding Stephanie throughout the night so that Trinity could get some rest. He had shown concern, and whether or not he realized it, he had shown a kind of love. Maybe the rest would come in time.

  Whether Trinity would be successful really didn’t enter into her decision. There was only one thing that mattered when she came right down to it: She loved him.

  Chase Colfax was a compelling need, an unfed hunger, and Trinity had decided. She was going to go to him.

  #

  Christmas was over, Stephanie was well, and through a superhuman effort, Trinity had finished and delivered Mrs. Janis’s quilt. She had also caught up on most of the chores on the farm.

  It was now or never. Taking a deep breath, she picked up the phone and dialed her sister’s number. Sissy answered in her usual breathless manner. "Hello?"

  "Hi. How are you?"

  "Same as usual," her sister answered cheerfully. "Tray is torturing Anthony, Joshua is lying in his playpen screaming and Larry is skulking around my kitchen looking for new and interesting murder weapons."

  Trinity laughed. "That man is a certified, card-carrying candidate for a prefrontal lobotomy!"

  Sissy returned the laughter. "Yeah, I know. I don’t like the way he keeps looking at my food processor. Listen, do you want to come over for dinner? I’ve made a huge pot of beef stew."

  "Actually, I was wondering if Stephanie could spend a few days with you."

  "Sure, you know she’s always welcome. What’s up?"

  "I’ve decided I’m going into Dallas to see Chase." There was dead silence on the other end of the phone. "Sissy? Sissy?"

  "Are you sure, Trinity? Have you really thought things out?"

  "I’ve thought of little else, believe me," Trinity admitted dryly.

  "Why don’t you come over and we can talk about this? Another day isn’t going to make any difference."

  "It’s been almost a month since I last saw him. It’s nearly New Year’s!"

  Larry’s voice came on the line. "I gather from Sissy’s distressed look that you’ve decided to see Chase."

  "You gather right. Is she assembling the ingredients for fudge yet?"

  "No. At the moment, she’s looking a little stunned, but she should be starting any minute, probably by the time you get over here. Trinity . . ."

  "Don’t worry, Larry, everything will work out."

  "I hope so, babe, I hope so."

  #

  An hour later, Trinity found herself sitting by the phone once again, this time trying to gather the courage to call Chase. She had already delivered a thoroughly happy Stephanie to a very excited Tray. She shook her head ruefully. There was no telling what those two would get into in the next few days.

  Forcing her mind back to Chase, Trinity grasped the phone and dialed the first number that he had written down weeks ago. There was always the chance that he wouldn’t be interested. Four weeks was a long time for a man like Chase Colfax to wait for a woman—any woman.

  Going through a swit
chboard operator and a receptionist, Trinity was finally connected with Chase’s secretary. "Mr. Colfax’s office."

  Trinity cleared her throat nervously. "Is Mr. Colfax in, please?"

  "Yes, he is, but I’m afraid he’s busy right now. May I give him a message?"

  Trinity grimaced to herself. The easy way out of this would be to say no and hang up. But she had never yet taken the easy way out of anything, and she wasn’t going to start now. "Yes. Could you please tell him that Miss Warrenton called and—"

  "Excuse me," the cultured voice of the secretary interrupted, "but is this Miss Trinity Ann Warrenton?"

  "Yes, it is."

  "Miss Warrenton, if you will hold for just a moment, I’ll connect you with Mr. Colfax."

  The unseen woman did exactly that. It was only a matter of moments before she heard the deeply affecting voice of Chase. "Trinity?"

  "Yes. Chase, It’s me."

  "Are you okay? Is Stephanie?"

  "Everyone’s okay."

  There was an unnerving silence.

  "Uh . . . Chase?"

  "You have my undivided attention, Trinity," he assured her dryly.

  "I’ve been thinking about us."

  "Yes?"

  "I’ll come to you if. . . if you still want me."

  "Do you seriously think that’s even a question? Seriously?"

  "Fine." She exhaled and only then realized she had been holding her breath. "Okay. But it’s going to be only on my terms."

  "I’ve already told you that you can have anything you want." His voice cut its way sharply through the telephone lines.

  "It’s what I don’t want. No money, no gifts, and I will set the time limit. Do you agree?"

  There was no sound for the space of about ten seconds; then he grated his response into the telephone. "I’ll take you any damn way I can get you, Trinity. The helicopter is already there and will be ready to take off whenever you’re ready to leave."

  "No. I’ll drive."

  "Don’t be any more hardheaded than you already are, Trinity. It will take you over two and a half hours to drive to my apartment, and the roads are as slick as glass from the rain we’re having this morning."

  "It’s one of my conditions, Chase. I won’t be picked up and delivered to your front doorstep like some . . . some call girl."

  "Trinity," Chase began forcefully, but then suddenly stopped. "Okay, okay, you win. But for God’s sake, drive carefully! I’ll be at the apartment, waiting."

  #

  As Trinity drove toward Dallas, she marveled at the newly rinsed loveliness of the gently rolling countryside. The rain had stopped, leaving the land soft and green—just as if she were looking at it through a piece of green cellophane.

  Why was she leaving it? She was going from a world that was mistily gentle into a world made up of concrete and steel, right angles and seams. Dallas and Chase Colfax suited each other. Trying to soften either of them would be a Herculean task.

  And it was a definite gamble. It was a well-known fact that Chase had a low threshold of boredom where women were concerned. To pull this off would require nothing less than a full-fledged miracle.

  But Trinity didn’t stop and she didn’t turn around. She continued driving, down Interstate 30, into Dallas.

  Chapter Six

  The doors of the private elevator opened directly into Chase’s apartment. As Trinity walked a few feet into the room, they closed behind her with a discreet swish.

  Chase stood in the middle of the room. Dressed casually, with his usual virile elegance, his hair was damp. She realized he must have showered and changed when he had come home from the office.

  Trinity’s feet stopped their forward motion. All at once she couldn’t take a step further. She had just driven well over one hundred miles to be with Chase, and at the sight of him, she had frozen. How ridiculous!

  Chase evidently didn’t have the same problem. He moved toward her, slowly, lazily. "Do you know the hell you’ve put me through this last month while I waited for you to call?"

  As Trinity watched him drawing nearer to her, the same feeling that had come over her when she had first seen Chase on that long-ago silvery night washed over her—the sense that she could feel the grace and the power of him inside of her. And just as it had that night, her breath quickened.

  He came to a halt In front of her, and his hand curled around her neck in soft possession, the thumb moving casually up and down against her sensitive skin. "You see, I knew there was nothing I could do but wait. I couldn’t pressure you. I had tried that. I couldn’t bribe you. I had tried that, too. I couldn’t even blackmail you, because I had nothing that you wanted. So I had to wait."

  His thumb had found the pulse that was beating so frantically at the base of her throat, and paused there for a breathless moment. The blue of his eyes fired to a dark urgency, and Trinity felt the strength leave her legs. His thumb resumed its slow insidious up-and-down motion. "I think I would have given you about twenty-four hours more, and if you hadn’t called me by then, I would have tried something else."

  He stepped forward and lowered his face until his mouth was a breath away from hers. "I don’t know what I would have tried next, but I would have had to try something." His lips softly grazed hers, and Trinity barely heard the moan that escaped from her mouth and went into his. The blood thundered through her veins, prohibiting any coherent thought.

  Chase’s hand slid under her sweater and up to one breast, like a homing pigeon coming to roost. "Have I ever told you how glad I am that you never wear a bra?" he questioned huskily. "The fact that you don’t means that I can reach out and touch the bareness of your breasts . . . at any time I choose . . ." His thumb was now rubbing, oh, so lightly, back and forth across the tensed nipple. ". . . in any place we happen to be . . . under any circumstances . . . and no one would know what I was doing to you but us."

  Trinity clung to him—she was capable of no other action. With one hand still on her breast, he used the other to quickly skin her sweater over her head.

  "It seems like we’ve been apart forever," Chase whispered thickly, as he unbuttoned his shirt—his eyes never leaving hers, his other hand staying firmly in place—and then pulled her breast to his chest, rubbing her nipple against the tingling mat of curling silver-white hair.

  Trinity slowly sank to her knees, her hands finding the waistband of Chase’s pants and pulling him down with her. Chase shrugged out of his shirt at the same time that she unfastened his pants, and he finished undressing while Trinity lay down on the carpet and stripped off her jeans.

  Soon Chase was lying beside her, and Trinity reached for him. There was something elemental in the way they came together. The powerful force of their combined passions raged out of control. Chase and Trinity’s erotic motions, their explicit cries, their hungry demands, all came to an eager, heart-stopping climax, like a ton of skyrockets going off all at once, and, finally, all the blazing colors of their fire showered through their bodies in an ultimate, shimmering release.

  They lay there, on the thick white carpet, still joined together, for quite some time, until their breathing became steadier and their pulses returned to normal. After a while, Chase picked up Trinity and carried her to his bed, which already had the covers turned down. He got in beside her and immediately took her into his arms again.

  Trinity snuggled contently into his shoulder, one arm and one leg thrown across him. "I think we’re even."

  Chase gave a little laugh. "What on earth are you talking about?"

  She ran a finger teasingly around one of his nipples, enjoying the feel of it and the way Chase drew in his breath at her touch. "After the night that you had John Phillips fly me home, I thought I would never see you again. I went through a hell of my own in the weeks that followed, wondering what you were doing and who you were with." Her finger moved to the other nipple, tracing random patterns around and over it. "Then you called and came over, taking charge of Stephanie just as if nothing ha
d happened."

  "Trinity!" Chase took hold of her finger, holding it motionless against his chest. She could feel his heart thudding against her hand. "The reason I had Phillips fly you back was because I was afraid I would lose you for good if I took you home. I was so upset when you turned down what I considered to be a damn good proposition, that I was afraid of what I would say to you. I had to walk out of the room before I did or said something to you that I didn’t really mean and would definitely regret later."

  Chase turned her over on her back, his hand going unerringly to her breast, and began to softly stroke the erogenous area. "And then I had to go to England for several weeks and I felt it was better not to call you. I didn’t want to discuss things over the telephone. When I finally got home, Stephanie was sick and you had your hands full."

  His mouth swooped down, covering one nipple. Trinity’s stomach turned over with desire, and she locked her hands behind his head, pulling him even closer, fusing his mouth to her breast. "Chase."

  He hadn’t really said what she wanted him to say. He hadn’t mentioned the word love. But for the moment, it didn’t seem to matter.

  Hours later, Trinity stretched languorously awake. Turning slightly, her eyes encountered the warmth and the blue of Chase’s eyes, watching her. Leaning on one elbow, he gave her a relaxed, caressing smile.

  Trinity grinned at him. "Do you enjoy watching people sleep, Mr. Colfax?"

  "Well, let’s put it this way," Chase said wryly. "I never have before, but there’s something about the way you do things that fascinates me. There’s an uninhibited joy about you."

  Trinity laughed and glanced up at the ceiling. "Chase! Where’s the mirror?"

  "I had it taken down after your last visit here."

  "But why?"

  His hand began stroking the length of her thigh. "Because you and I don’t need anything to stimulate us but each other."

 

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