Tricia inhaled the natural scent of Jeremy’s skin mingling with his cologne. Her fingers tunneled through his rakishly long, inky-black wavy hair. She loved everything about him: his mysterious smoky-gray eyes, strong firm mouth and voice he rarely raised in anger.
His hairy chest grazed her breasts, her nipples hardening quickly. The motion heated her blood and ignited a fire that raced through her body and settled between her thighs. She knew without a doubt this coming together, the last one they would share for a long time, would not be the leisurely joining they’d experienced in the past.
Jeremy parted Tricia’s legs with his knee and eased his sex into her hot, pulsing body. Both sighed as flesh melded with flesh, holding fast.
Tricia closed her eyes, savoring the hardness inside her. She was afraid to move because she did not want it to be over before it began. But her lover was not to be denied as he rolled his hips, sliding in and out, rocking back and forth. “Faster, Jeremy,” she gasped, trembling as the little flutters grew stronger and stronger with each thrust.
Burying his face in the hollow between her neck and shoulder, Jeremy gritted his teeth, struggling not to release the straining passion in his loins. “No,” he moaned as if in pain.
Her fingernails sank into the muscles in his firm buttocks. “Please.”
He knew it was useless to fight the inevitable and quickened his motions until he did not know where he began and Tricia ended. They had become one in every sense of the word.
They climaxed at the same time, the sensations taking them higher than they had ever experienced together before, and released them in a shuddering ecstasy that seemed to go on and on. They lay motionless, their hearts beating in unison.
Jeremy wanted her again, but knew if he had seconds, then he’d want thirds and maybe fourths. It had always been that way with Tricia. She had become his drug of choice—one he did not want to ever give up.
Ten minutes after they’d washed away the evidence of their lovemaking in the shallow stream and put their clothes back on, they arrived at the two-bedroom bungalow where Tricia had grown up. Lights blazed from every window. The front door opened. Russell and Gus stepped out onto the porch and shook hands.
“Will I see you at breakfast?” Tricia’s voice was barely a whisper.
Jeremy nodded. “Of course, sweetheart. I’ll help you down.”
She waited until he came around and swung her to the ground. “Good night, my love.” Boldly, purposefully, she wound her arms around his neck, pulled his head down and kissed him.
Jeremy watched Tricia as she made her way up to the porch and walked into the house, Gus following. Grabbing the roll bar, he pulled himself up behind the wheel and released the brake.
“Hold up a minute, Blackstone.”
His hand froze on the gearshift. He looked over at Russell. “What do you want?”
“I want to thank you.”
“For what?”
Russell’s lips twisted into a cynical smile. “For making it an easier ride in the saddle.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Tricia. You broke her in just right. I’m not one for virgins because I always find them too clingy. But Tricia’s different. She doesn’t mind sharing her goodies with the hired help as long as she can hold on to the boss’s son.” Doffing an imaginary hat, he walked back to his pickup truck parked alongside the bungalow.
Jeremy did not want to believe Russell, but he had seen him kiss Tricia. And what, he mused, was he doing at her place? A silent voice in his head screamed no because Tricia had said there was nothing between her and Russell…but a voice of reason said otherwise. However, there was only one way to uncover the truth. A minute later he stood on the porch, ringing the bell. Gus came to the door.
“I thought you and Tricia said good night.”
“I’d like to talk to her again, sir.”
Gus shook his head. “No, Jeremy. You’ve done enough damage.”
“Pardon me, but just what is it I’ve done?”
The older man smiled, the expression softening his dark-brown face. “I like you, Jeremy, and I respect your father. But, I think it’s best you leave my granddaughter alone.”
“I can’t do that, sir. Tricia and I—”
“There is no Tricia and you,” Gus countered angrily. “Open your eyes, son. It’s been Tricia and that young Smith fellow. He’s planning to visit her in New York next month. He came over to give her this.” Reaching into his slacks, he pulled a small velvet box from his pocket and opened it.
Jeremy stared at the delicate diamond heart. It was true. Russell hadn’t lied. He was sleeping with Tricia and she was sleeping with both of them. He inclined his head. “You’re right, Mr. Parker. Good night.”
Jeremy threw underwear, T-shirts, socks and a pair of jeans into a suede duffel bag and zipped it. Moving like an automaton, he forced himself to put one foot in front of the other as he descended the staircase. Several feet from the front door he saw his father coming from the direction of the family room.
Sheldon stared at the bag in his hand. “Going somewhere?”
Jeremy swallowed to relieve the dryness in his constricted throat. “Yes, Pop. I’m going to spend a couple of days in Richmond. I’ll be back Sunday night.”
Sheldon’s gaze narrowed in suspicion. “Are you all right, son?”
“Sure, Pop.”
“Drive carefully.”
Jeremy waved to his father as he opened the door, then closed it quietly behind him.
Tricia woke up early, showered and dressed in record time. She wanted to see Jeremy at the dining hall before he left for the track to watch the trainers put the horses through their exercise regimen. Her heart racing, she walked into the dining hall. Sheldon sat alone at a table. She headed for the owner of Blackstone Farms, a bright smile in place.
“Good morning, Sheldon.”
His light-gray eyes bore into her as if she were a stranger. “Good morning, Tricia. Jeremy’s not here.”
She felt her heart stop, then start up again in a runaway rhythm. “Where is he?”
“He’s staying in Richmond for a few days.”
Tricia’s hands closed into tight fists to conceal their trembling. “When did he leave?”
“Last night.”
She closed her eyes for several seconds and when she opened them her gaze was steady. “Thank you.”
He’d lied to her. Jeremy had promised to see her off, but it was apparent he had changed his mind. Perhaps, she thought, her grandfather was right. She should not have gotten involved with the boss’s son.
She left the dining hall, head held high, fighting back tears. She promised herself she would never contact Jeremy Blackstone unless he contacted her first. And that was a promise she intended to keep.
Chapter One
Present Day
Eyes wide, her heart pumping rapidly and knees buckling slightly, Tricia Parker stared at the man sprawled on the Blackstones’ leather sofa.
She could barely recognize Jeremy with all those bruises on his forehead, cheek and jaw. There was also a slight swelling over his right eye. Dressed in a white T-shirt and shorts, he was unshaved, his short black hair spiked, his left leg covered with a plaster cast from toe to knee, and the third and fourth fingers of his left hand were taped to a splint.
Only her nurses’ training prevented Tricia from losing her composure when she saw the man to whom she had given her heart as an awestruck teenager. Each time she returned to Blackstone Farms a small part of her wanted to catch a glimpse of Sheldon Blackstone’s youngest son, but it was as if their paths were destined not to cross again—until now.
“What happened to him?” Her voice was low, raspy, as if she had been screaming for hours.
Sheldon’s light-gray eyes were fixed on Jeremy, who hadn’t stirred since being placed on the sofa. “He had an accident—on the job,” he added after a slight pause.
Tricia knew “on the job” for Jerem
y was as a special agent with the Drug Enforcement Administration. He had graduated Stanford and instead of returning to Blackstone Farms he joined the U.S. Marine Corps. A month after he completed his military obligation he applied to the DEA as a special agent. She moved closer and placed a hand over his forehead. It was cool to the touch.
“How long has he been like this?”
“He was sedated before he was flown in from D.C.,” Ryan Blackstone, Jeremy’s older brother and the horse farm’s resident veterinarian, said.
She withdrew her hand. “I’m talking about his injuries.”
“Tomorrow will be two weeks,” Sheldon said behind her. “He’s going to need round-the-clock nursing care.”
Tricia turned and stared at the imposing-looking owner of the most profitable African-American horse farm in the history of Virginia’s horseracing. The years had been kind to Jeremy’s father. Tall and solidly built, the middle-aged widower still had a full head of raven-black hair with a feathering of gray at the temples. He had extraordinary eyes: shimmering light gray in a golden-brown face.
“You want me to take care of him.” Her question was a statement.
Sheldon inclined his head. “Yes.”
“But, I’m only going to be here for a month.” She had just begun her four-week vacation leave from her job as a registered nurse with a group of Baltimore pediatricians. “Don’t you think it would be better to hire a permanent private-duty nurse?”
“I would if you weren’t here. I’m certain Jeremy will respond much better to treatment with familiar faces around him. That’s why I decided to bring him back to the farm.”
A warning voice whispered in her head not to become involved with Jeremy again; however, she ignored it when she closed her eyes for several seconds. She wanted to decline Sheldon’s request but couldn’t. She had grown up on the farm, and tradition was that everyone looked after one another. Her gaze lingered on Sheldon before it shifted to Ryan.
“Okay.”
Both men sighed.
Ryan closed the distance between them, cupped her elbow and led her into the dining room. His dark-gray eyes studied her intently. He was undeniably a Blackstone: height, complexion, raven hair, high cheekbones, aquiline nose and mouth. As the older brother, he’d had most of the girls who had grown up on the horse farm fantasizing about marrying him, but not Tricia. Four years her senior, Ryan was too old and much too serious. Her choice had been Jeremy. They were the same age, carefree and at times very reckless.
Jeremy had earned the reputation of driving too fast, swearing and fighting too much, and he had been the one who had introduced her to a passion she had not experienced since.
“What am I dealing with, Ryan?”
“Broken ankle, dislocated fingers and a concussion. His ankle is held together with screws.”
Tricia nodded. “Is there anything else I should know about your brother? Perhaps why he has been sedated, since it’s not for pain?”
A sheepish grin softened the lines of tension around Ryan’s mouth. “I could never fool you, Tricia. It’s as if you have a sixth sense when it comes to Jeremy. The two of you must be bound by an invisible force that keeps you connected even though you’ve been separated for so many years.”
A shiver snaked its way up her spine. There had been a time when she and Jeremy were able to complete each other’s sentences. “You’re wrong, Ryan,” she said softly. “If that had been the case, then I would’ve known that something had happened to him. What aren’t you telling me?”
“He has episodes—flashbacks of what happened to him and the other members of his team before he was rescued.”
Her large dark eyes widened with this disclosure. It was obvious Jeremy was experiencing post-traumatic stress syndrome. “Was he tortured?”
Ryan shook his head. “I don’t know. He was debriefed, but as civilians we’re not privy to that information.”
“What are his meds?”
Ryan told her about the prescribed medication and dosage. “I’ll make certain to give you the hospital’s report. My brother is scheduled to see an orthopedist and a psychiatrist in a couple of days. I know this is your vacation, but I will make it up—”
“There’s nothing to make up for,” Tricia said, interrupting him. “Remember, I grew up here, and I’ve always thought of you and Jeremy as my brothers.”
Ryan smiled. He wanted to tell Tricia that he had always thought of her as a younger sister, but not Jeremy. There was something about the assistant trainer’s granddaughter that softened his brother, made him vulnerable. She would only stay a month, but perhaps it was long enough to help Jeremy adjust to coming home.
“He can’t stay on the sofa,” Tricia said. “He needs a bed and easy access to a bathroom.”
“We plan to move him into his house in a few minutes. Things will go easier for you if he’s under his own roof. A hospital bed has been set up in the family room. There’s also a wheelchair, shower equipment and a pair of crutches. Sleeping arrangements will also be set up for you at his place, so I suggest you pick up what you’ll need and then come back to Jeremy’s place.”
Tricia nodded numbly as she walked out of the main house. Sheldon had houses built for his sons less than a quarter of a mile from the main house after they’d graduated from college.
Sleeping arrangements have been set up for you at Jeremy’s place. Ryan’s words echoed over and over as she drove back to the two-bedroom bungalow where she’d grown up with her grandparents.
She’d returned to Blackstone Farms to spend a month with Gus Parker, never believing she would have to share a house with the man she’d fallen in love with and continued to love even though she’d married another.
It had taken Dwight Lansing less than a year of marriage to realize his love and passion would never be reciprocated. A week before he and Tricia would have celebrated their first wedding anniversary, their marriage was annulled. She’d given her husband her body but never her heart. That she had given to Jeremy Blackstone to hold on to for eternity.
Jeremy surfaced from a drug-induced haze for the first time in hours. Long, thick black lashes framing a pair of deep-set, dove-gray eyes fluttered as he attempted to focus on the face looming over him.
The pain in his leg was forgotten as he stared up at the girl he hadn’t seen in fourteen years. His eyes widened, moving slowly over her face and then lower. He stood corrected. Tricia Parker was not a girl, but a woman—all woman.
“Hi, Jeremy.”
Her voice was soft and husky, the way he remembered it after they’d finished making love. She had been the one to do the talking when he couldn’t, because making love had usually left him breathless and speechless.
The long, black curly hair that she’d worn in a braid was missing, in its place a short, cropped style that hugged her well-shaped head. Everything about her was ample: breasts, hips, round face, dark sparkling eyes and her mouth. Oh, how he’d loved kissing her mouth.
A white short-sleeved linen blouse and a pair of black slacks failed to camouflage or minimize her full figure. If her coloring had been a creamy magnolia instead of rich sable brown, she could have been the perfect model for baroque artist Peter Paul Rubens. Tricia was now the epitome of Rubenesque. It was as if she wore an invisible badge that silently announced: I Am Woman.
He closed his eyes, temporarily forgetting the deceitful woman hovering over him. “Where am I?”
“You’re home.”
“Home where?” He’d slurred the two words.
“In your house.”
His eyes darkened like storm clouds. He’d waited fourteen, long agonizing years to reunite with Tricia so he could confront her about her infidelity. And now that that had become a reality, he knew he couldn’t. Not when pain throbbed throughout his body.
“Get out of my house!”
Shaking her head, Tricia thrust her face close to his, feeling his moist breath sweep over her cheek. “I’m sorry, Jeremy, I can’t do that.�
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Gray eyes glowing from his olive-brown face, like those of a savage predator, he bared his teeth. “I don’t want you here.”
Straightening, she rounded the bed, gently lifting his left foot to rest on two pillows. “It’s not what you want but what you need. I’m going to be around for the next month, so you’d better get used to seeing me.”
He went completely still. “A month?”
“Yes. I’m on vacation. Once it’s over, I’m going back to Baltimore.”
“I don’t know if I can tolerate seeing you for a month.”
“Stuff it, Jeremy,” she retorted. “It’s not as if I want to be bothered with you, either. But I promised your father that I’d look after you, and I’ll do that until another nurse replaces me.”
She neatly folded a lightweight blanket at the foot of the bed. What had been a family room was now a temporary bedroom. A tobacco-brown leather club chair with an ottoman was positioned several feet from the bed. The chair matched the daybed in a spacious alcove, which was now her temporary sleeping space. Sheldon had chosen the room because of an adjoining full bathroom with a freestanding shower.
Jeremy stared at Tricia. She did not look any older than when he last saw her, but she had changed, and it wasn’t just her fuller figure or shorter hair. He’d lost count of the number of hours, days, months and years she’d continued to haunt him despite her duplicity. How could she profess to love him while she’d slept with another man at the same time? Had she told Russell Smith that she’d loved him, too?
“You didn’t finish medical school.” His question was a statement.
She straightened. “No, I didn’t.
“What happened?”
“Nothing happened. I decided I wasn’t cut out to be a doctor.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “So, you became a nurse instead.”
The Blackstone Legacy Page 13