by M. Malone
She chanced a glance over her shoulder. Penny looked a little dazed. Matt raised his eyebrows as if to say, “Would you look at this place?”
It made her feel a little better. At least she wasn't the only one who felt more than a little out of place surrounded by all this opulence.
The doors slid open and they stepped directly into an elegant entryway. A living room with a stunning wall of windows was directly ahead.
"Wait… this is it?" Mara glanced around in confusion. She'd been expecting a hallway and then to have to open the door of their place with a key. Trent must have read her expression because he gestured for her to follow him.
"The elevator won't access our floor without a special keycard. Walter is bringing yours up as we speak."
"Oh, Walter. Right." She had no idea who that was or if she was supposed to care. Probably one of his many staff that seemed to be always just out of sight.
"Do you guys want a tour?" Trent looked between them and when no one else seemed inclined to say anything, Mara nodded.
He was trying so hard and it was painful to keep up this silence. Even though she was still hurt, she'd promised to give him this weekend to explain. This was his chance to show her his world and for her to decide if she wanted to be a part of it. It was time she took that promise seriously.
"You guys can go back to the hotel, Matt. I'm okay here."
Her brother cast one last look out the expansive window and then crossed the room to her side. He looked at her so long that for a moment she wasn't sure if he was going to leave at all. Then he nudged her arm and said, "I'm starting to understand what he meant when he said knowing about his background makes people uncomfortable. I'm afraid to touch anything in this place."
A soft laugh escaped before she could stop it. "I know, right? Everything looks so perfect."
He kissed her on the head and murmured, "Give him hell before you take him back at least."
As he entered the elevator where Penny waited, he was smiling.
Once the doors closed behind him, Trent walked back out of the kitchen. He'd been giving her space this whole time, only touching her when necessary and not expecting her to talk to him. But now he came and stood directly in front of her.
"Are we going to be able to get past this, Mara? Because just the thought that you won't even let me try is killing me. You're too good to toy with me deliberately so I'm asking you now, do I even have a chance?"
She looked around the room, her eyes skimming over the hardwood floors covered with rugs that were probably worth more than her house. The late afternoon sunlight cast everything with a golden glow, including Trent. Standing in the light with the sun setting his hair to flame, all she could see was her man. The same man who'd cheered her on, held her while she cried and promised her that he wanted forever.
Maybe it was time to let him prove it.
* * * * *
TRENT WATCHED AS Mara walked the perimeter of the room, trailing her fingertips over the back of the long sectional sofa, touching briefly the small sculptures on the side table and the granite of the kitchen breakfast bar.
The thing about Mara was that for all her boisterous enthusiasm, she could be maddeningly self-contained sometimes. She smiled but was it because she was happy or because she was used to showing a happy face to the world? Was her tactile exploration a sign of acceptance, an interest in her new home or was it merely curiosity? Polite interest?
He had no idea and the pressure of wondering whether he was getting through to her or whether his entire plan had already crashed and burned was driving him crazy.
"I have a confession to make."
That finally got her to stop moving. She glanced over at him, her amusement evident in the small lift of her lips. "Just one? Why stop now, you seem to be on a roll."
He laughed. If she could make jokes then things weren't as bad as he feared. He motioned around the room. "I brought you here to impress you."
"You don't say." She'd done a full circuit of the room and finally made her way back to him. This was as close as she'd gotten to him voluntarily all day. Her eyes sparkled as she smiled up at him. "Well, I'm impressed. I can't deny that."
"I hoped that if I dazzled you with all that I have, all that I would gladly lay at your feet that you'd be willing to overlook the dark side of this life. And I'm just selfish enough to hope that you're too tightly bound to me by the time you notice that this life can sometimes feel like living in a gilded cage."
"This is some cage," she muttered.
He reached out and grabbed her hand. The words he would say next were so important and if he could go forward with any semblance of his conscience intact, he had to know that she'd really considered the pitfalls.
"When people know your net worth, there's always a risk that someone will try to harm you. Privacy becomes nonexistent. Being a Townsend is like having a target on your back.”
"But I'm not a Townsend,” Mara protested.
"If you marry me, then you will be."
Although she’d stopped moving, he still couldn’t tell what she was thinking. When he’d imagined showing her his world, this wasn’t what he was expecting. He’d wanted to impress her and so far, she seemed more distant than ever.
"This is my chance to treat you like the precious jewel you are."
Mara looked up at him and her eyes softened, her breasts rising and falling under the thin material of her blouse. He moved behind her, inhaling her sweet scent. After a moment, she leaned back against him with a sigh.
Unable to resist any longer, Trent buried his face in her hair. He didn't touch her anywhere else, sure that if he allowed himself the luxury of touching her that he'd never stop. But then she made a soft, needy purr in the back of her throat, the helpless sound ricocheting through him and grabbing him by the balls. He hardened instantly and took a shallow breath, hoping that she wouldn't move against him because there would be no way to disguise his reaction to her. There would be nothing to hide the fact that just being near her inflamed him. She'd always had that effect on him, inciting his deepest passions and making him feel like a feral animal.
"I don't need any of that," she whispered.
"I know you don't," he choked out. "But I would shower you with gifts just to see the glitter of diamonds against your perfect skin. You have no idea how hard it's been to hold back, to not buy you the things you deserve. That ends now. No more holding back. I am going to take care of you. And you are going to let me."
Trent knew it was a risk. Mara was so independent that from the very beginning he'd had to curb the arrogance that came from being born into one of the nation's richest families. He was used to doing whatever he wanted and having things exactly the way he liked. But with Mara, he'd had to learn to temper that part of himself for fear that he'd scare her away. But now the curtain had been pulled back, his true nature revealed and he found he couldn't stop himself from telling her exactly how things would be.
Instead of pulling away, she arched her back, brushing her curvy bottom against his erection. Trent groaned and his hands on her arms tightened. Maybe it had been an accident. She truly didn't know how she affected him sometimes and he couldn't fall on her like an animal when she was likely just moving against him inadvertently.
Then she did it again. Rubbed that sexy ass back against him and he lost it.
"Damn it, you know exactly what you do to me, don't you?"
She opened her mouth to respond but whatever she was about to say was covered by the sound of a loud chime.
“What was that?” Mara glanced around warily.
Trent was tempted to lie but knew there was no use. Few people visited him here so if his visitors’ were who he assumed, they wouldn’t go away until they’d seen him.
“It’s the front desk calling up. I must have visitors.” He crossed the room and snatched up the phone. It took all his patience not to snarl into the damn thing.
“Yes, Walter?”
“Sir, y
our parents are here to see you.”
“Of course they are. Can you give me a moment?”
“Yes, sir.”
He set the phone down on the counter. Mara watched him warily from the other side of the island.
“Who is it?”
“Apparently my staff isn’t as loyal as I’d hoped. It’s my parents. I’d hoped we had a little more privacy before we had to deal with them.”
She didn’t say anything but he could tell the thought of meeting his family held as little appeal for her as it did for him right then. Especially when she glanced down at her outfit. That was his girl.
“I can tell them to leave. They’ll have to understand that we just got in and we’re exhausted.”
“But they already came out here. I’m sure they’ve missed you.” Mara’s fingers clenched around the fabric of her top. Then she smoothed it out as if just conscious of the nervous habit. “Besides, that’s why we’re here, right? So that I can become a part of your life. It’s time to stop hiding.”
There was wisdom in those words, he knew, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t also feel the disaster that was about to happen, the chaos and discord that his family seemed to generate as a matter of course. He was related to them and as such had to deal with their drama but she wasn’t used to it. He’d hoped to shield her for as long as he could. However, it was only a matter of time so perhaps it was better to get it over with. He only hoped she wouldn’t turn around and leave as soon as she met them.
“All right. I just want you to remember, that all this stuff," he gestured around them, "is just that. Stuff. It's not who I am. I'm still the same guy who has loved you for years."
Mara hugged him tightly and then released him. "I know. Now let them in. It's about time I met my future in-laws."
He knew Mara thought he’d been hiding her. It had hurt her, the thought that he’d been keeping her a secret. It killed him that this beautiful, vibrant woman could have ever thought that he was hiding her, although he knew his own actions had led her to that conclusion.
Because despite what Mara thought, she wasn’t the one he was ashamed of.
II.
“And, after all, what is a lie?
'Tis but the truth in masquerade;”
- - Don Juan, Lord Byron
Chapter Eight
MARA’S FIRST THOUGHT when the elevator doors opened was that Trent’s parents looked like mannequins. His father was tall, with light brown hair streaked through with silver. He wore a crisp black suit and a red tie, the quintessential image of a CEO. He was a handsome man despite his stiff demeanor. She could easily see Trent’s features in his face.
His mother’s blonde hair was even lighter than her son’s and every single strand was perfectly in place. Like her husband, she was formally dressed, in a slim black sheath that showed off her trim figure, and a single strand of pearls around her neck. With envy, Mara glanced at her shoes. The distinctive red sole told her they were by one of her favorite designers. One of the designers that she knew she’d never be able to afford but drooled over in every fashion magazine.
“Darling! You’re finally back.” His mother came forward, sweeping past Mara with her arms outspread to pull Trent down into a hug.
Trent hugged her back stiffly before exchanging a terse nod with his father.
When his mother noticed Mara standing there, she beamed a bright smile. Then she handed over her handbag and the shopping bag she carried.
“Please put these away somewhere. And I’ll have a glass of tea, por favor.” She emphasized the Spanish words, saying them slowly but still managing to mangle the pronunciation.
For a moment, Mara just stood there, her arms filled with packages. Trent turned to her with a carefully blank look. His eyes closed briefly before he took the stuff out of her arms and set it off to the side next to the sofa.
His mother watched the interaction between them with confusion. She was probably wondering why Mara wasn't hopping to and fixing her drink.
She felt like being wicked and speaking back in Spanish but the ironic thing was, despite his mother’s assumption, her Spanish wasn’t very good. Her mother was Columbian but they’d always spoken English at home.
Note to self, learn more Spanish to use when making pretentious people uncomfortable.
When Trent put his arm around her waist, a single frown line appeared on his mother's forehead, marring the otherwise perfectly smooth skin of her face. Clearly this wasn't going to be the family bonding session Mara had hoped for. She was starting to understand why Trent hadn't brought her home sooner.
“Mom, Dad this is my fiancée Mara Simmons. Mara, these are my parents, James and Antonia Townsend.”
She glanced up at him before smiling at his parents. No one said anything for a moment so she awkwardly stuck out her hand in his mother’s direction. “Hello, it’s so nice to finally meet you both.”
A look of disdain crossed his mother’s face, which was quickly masked by a polite but cool smile. “Of course, yes. Your fiancée.”
Mara noticed that while her words were perfectly polite they also didn’t extend any welcome or congratulations.
So that was how it would be. She pulled her hand back since his mother didn’t seem inclined to shake it and instead snuggled closer to Trent, putting her arm around his waist as well. At her touch, he visibly relaxed.
“I wish we’d known in advance you were coming. We’ve only just arrived ourselves.”
Mara froze and glanced at Trent from the corner of her eye. While polite, his tone definitely implied that they weren’t welcome. His parents didn’t seem to care though. His mother simply sniffed and perched on the edge of the couch. His father hadn’t moved during the entire exchange. As stiff as he was, he could be asleep with his eyes open for all the interest he showed in the conversation.
“If we’d told you that we were coming, you would have just avoided us. You’ve been hiding out in the country for ages, darling. Do you blame me for being excited when I hear that you’re finally moving back home?”
Trent’s arm tightened around her waist. “I’m not moving back, mother. I’m only here to visit. And to show Mara around, of course.”
His mother’s lips turned down slightly. Nothing else on her face moved. “Well, you aren’t going to stay down there forever, surely. What about your family? Your friends? Your life?”
Trent pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked at her apologetically. “My life is in Virginia now. Just as it has been for years.”
When Trent’s father finally moved, it startled Mara. He came to stand next to his wife, placing a hand on her shoulder. Antonia reached up to grasp it. They looked like a portrait of affluence. She could almost see their picture in a magazine with the caption “The Townsends of New York relaxing at their son’s Manhattan penthouse.”
“Your mother is just concerned for you, Trent. As am I. Your place is here. We need you. Especially in light of your brother’s recent actions.”
No one said anything and Mara had to resist the urge to fidget. She got the sense that there was more than one conversation going on and she was only privy to the surface one.
“Would anyone like something to drink?” she asked, interjecting into the tense silence. No one said anything so she made her way over to the kitchen and busied herself inspecting the contents of the refrigerator. There wasn't much there but when she opened the freezer she found several containers, each one carefully labeled. Lasagna. Chicken casserole. Minestrone soup. She hadn't asked Trent if he had a housekeeper but she could only assume he did. Things were too clean and perfect for him not to.
After about five minutes, Mara figured she probably couldn't hide out in the kitchen any longer. She'd spent as long as possible looking in the refrigerator, choosing between the various designer brands of sparkling water. It was probably rude as hell but she wasn't ready to go back out there and deal with more dismissive looks from Trent's parents.
This whole tri
p was supposed to be a new beginning but she was already wondering if it was a mistake. Trent had told her that his family was difficult and he preferred to spend as little time with them as possible. At the time she'd thought that was cold and unfeeling. But now that she'd met them, she had to admit she understood a few things about Trent better already. If those were her parents, would she be anxious to go home often? Probably not.
And she hadn't even met his siblings yet. She shivered imagining mini-versions of James and Antonia. She closed the refrigerator and squared her shoulders. She'd said she wanted to meet his parents so she had to at least back Trent up. But when she walked into the living room it was empty.
“Trent?”
He emerged from the hallway. His shirt was unbuttoned and he'd already pulled off his tie.
"Where are your parents?"
"I sent them home. I'm tired and I'm sure you are, too."
Her shoulders slumped. "I am exhausted."
The corners of his lips twitched. "You don't have to pretend. If that was my first time meeting my parents, I would have needed a timeout, too. And a fifth of scotch."
Mara grimaced. "Was I that obvious?"
The amused grin on his face told her that she had been but he didn't seem bothered. He walked over and put a gentle hand on the small of her back. "Come on. I haven't even shown you our room yet."
She followed him down the hallway, stopping briefly so he could point out a bathroom and a guest room.
"How big is this place?" she whispered as they passed another guest room. She'd been talking to herself but Trent answered anyway.
"It's about five thousand square feet. There's a home theater, a billiards room and an office on the other side of the living room.”
Then he led her into a room in the back that was easily the size of her living room back home. A king-sized bed covered in a dove gray comforter dominated the center of the room. The windows were similar to the ones up front, providing a stunning view of the bustling city scene.