Reaching into his pocket, Jeremy withdrew a small leather case and extended it to Tricia. “Please take one of the cards.” She reached for an American Express card and handed it to Rose. “We’re also going to need some toiletries.”
Rose gave the credit card to her husband. “All of the rooms come with baskets of complimentary grooming samples. You’ll also find bathrobes and slippers. We ask that you leave them, but if you want them as souvenirs just let us know and we’ll add the cost to your bill. Come with me and I’ll show you your room.”
Lindbergh stared at the name on the credit card before peering closely at Jeremy. “Are you one of those Blackstones from the horse farm?”
Jeremy’s expression was impassive. “Yes.”
Lindbergh reached for Jeremy’s right hand and pumped it. “My pleasure, Mr. Blackstone.” He nodded at Tricia. “Mrs. Blackstone.”
“Let go of the man’s hand, Lind,” Rose admonished softly. “Don’t you see he’s hurting?”
Tricia moved closer to Jeremy and studied his face. Moisture dotted his forehead and his mouth was drawn into a tight line. There was no doubt he was uncomfortable.
He was in pain and his medication was back at the farm. She touched his shoulder. “Let’s go to the room,” she said softly.
Tricia and Jeremy followed Rose down a carpeted hallway to a room at the opposite end of the hall. Rose opened the door and flipped a wall switch. Table lamps filled the space with a warm, soft golden glow, highlighting an exquisite queen-size sleigh bed with a lace and organza coverlet and pillows. A table, doubling as a desk, held a vase of fresh white roses and a supply of candles next to a quartet of hurricane lanterns. The room also had a sitting area with a round table and two chairs, and an adjoining bathroom. Bundles of dried herbs lay on the grate in a stone fireplace instead of the usual logs.
Tricia smiled. “It’s beautiful.”
Rose beamed. “I’m glad you like it.” She walked over to the table in the sitting area, picked up a small leather-bound binder and handed it to Tricia. “I’m certain we’ll have most of what you’ll need to make your stay comfortable. We also offer laundry service. If you want something washed, just put them in the bags you’ll find on a shelf in the closet and hang it outside your door tonight. You’ll also find today’s menu in the binder. If there’s anything you need other than what is listed, please let me or Lind know.”
Walking slowly over to an overstuffed armchair, Jeremy sat down heavily. His ankle was throbbing. The orthopedist had warned him that atmospheric changes would affect the metal in his foot. He closed his eyes, praying the pain would go away.
Tricia placed her purse on a table near the bed and opened the binder. The entrées included roast chicken, filet mignon and broiled trout. The bed-and-breakfast also offered a variety of dishes for vegetarians and those on restricted diets.
“What do you want to eat?” she asked Jeremy.
He waved a hand, not opening his eyes. “Please order for me.”
She spoke quietly with Rose, ordering the chicken and fish entrées with steamed vegetables. Once Rose left to put in their order, she went over to Jeremy.
“Would you like to eat in bed?”
He opened his eyes and his head came up slowly. A slight smile played at the corners of his mouth. Had Tricia realized what she’d asked? Her naive question elicited erotic musings that made him temporarily forget about his pain. Yes, he wanted to eat in bed, taste every inch of her smooth fragrant skin from her face to her toes.
The notion of making love to her elicited a longing and a desire he had long thought dead. Whenever he made love to other women it was only for sexual release. But it had never been that way with Tricia. He hadn’t consciously planned to seduce her, to get her into his bed, but the fact that they would share the same bed was now beyond her control, their control.
“Yes.” The single word came out like a silken growl. His steady gaze met and fused with hers.
A minute passed before Tricia dropped her gaze. Turning on her heel, she went over to the bed, shifted the pillows and shams and turned back the coverlet. She went completely still when she registered the heat from Jeremy’s body seeping into hers as he closed the distance between them. She shivered as his moist breath swept over the nape of her neck. She hadn’t heard him get up.
“Help me into bed, sweetheart.”
She took his crutches, propping them in a corner as he sat down heavily on the mattress. Bending over, she removed his shoe. Her motions were measured, precise as she placed an arm under the back of his knees and lifted his legs onto the bed.
“Are you in pain?” she asked after he’d slumped back to the pillows. “It’s bearable.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
He glared at her. “I said it’s bearable.”
She did not believe him, but decided not to press the issue. Reaching for the telephone on the nightstand, she dialed the number for room service. She would order something that would not only dull his pain but also his senses temporarily.
“This is Mrs. Blackstone. I’d like to order a bottle of Chardonnay.” She ignored Jeremy’s questioning look. “Yes. Thank you.”
“When did you start drinking?” he asked after she ended the call.
At fifteen they’d taken two bottles of wine from the dining hall’s wine cellar and finished one in less than an hour. Jeremy had been slightly tipsy while Tricia spent half the night in the bathroom, retching violently. Once she recovered she swore she would never drink again.
“I sometimes have a glass or two for special occasions.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Is this a special occasion?”
A smile softened her mouth. “I’d say it is.”
His smile matched hers. “What are we celebrating?”
“A truce, Jeremy.”
His smile faded. “I’d like to think of it as a reconciliation, Mrs. Blackstone.”
“Don’t get carried away with yourself. I couldn’t tell them I’m Miss Parker after you introduced me as your wife.”
A muscle quivered at his jaw. “But you could’ve been Mrs. Blackstone.”
She stared back at him for a long moment. “I could have been, but you chose to believe a lie.”
Jeremy’s eyes darkened with pain. Tricia did not know how many times he had punished himself for his cowardly actions. He’d run instead of staying to confront her. Even if she had lied about sleeping with Russell Smith, it still would have been better than not knowing.
“How long will I have to pay penance for deserting you, Tricia?”
“Fourteen years, Jeremy,” she spat out angrily. “I loved you even when I became another man’s wife. Every time he touched me I cursed you, because it was you I wanted to make love to, not Dwight. There were nights when I feigned sleep so I wouldn’t have to make love with him. I punished Dwight when he didn’t deserve to be punished.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “He was kind, patient but after a while even he couldn’t put up with a cold and unresponsive wife.”
Jeremy felt Tricia’s pain as surely as if it was his own. He had hurt her—deeply. “I’m sorry. I know it sounds trite, but there’s nothing else I can say. I’m sorry and I don’t want you to leave the farm.”
Straightening her spine, she stared down her nose at him. “What I promised to give you is three weeks. Please don’t ask for more.”
A sixth sense told him that something traumatic had happened to her during their separation. Something he knew he had to uncover before she left Blackstone Farms again.
He waited until Tricia walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her, and leaned over to pick up the telephone receiver. He punched in several numbers. His call was answered after the third ring.
“Hey, Pop.”
“Where the hell are you and Tricia?”
Jeremy ignored his father’s sharp tone. “We’re holed up at a bed-and-breakfast outside of Craigsville.”
A heavy sigh came through the w
ire. “Dammit, Jeremy, you’re going to put me in an early grave. Have you forgotten that everyone checks in during bad weather?”
Jeremy was aware of the mandated farm telephone chain that every resident check in with one another during violent weather.
“Half the county is blacked out because of downed power lines,” Sheldon continued. “Poor Gus nearly passed out when I told him that I hadn’t heard from you or Tricia.”
“Tell Gus Tricia is safe. We plan to spend the night here.”
There was a noticeable pause before Sheldon asked, “Is there something going on between you and Gus’s granddaughter?”
Jeremy hesitated, then said, “Yes, Pop. There’s something going on between Tricia and me, but it’s something we have to work out by ourselves.”
“I asked Tricia if she was the reason you joined the Marine Corps instead of coming back to the farm and she said I had to ask you.”
“Since you’ve asked, I’ll give you an answer. I ran away instead of confronting her about something someone told me.”
“Are you still running, son?”
Jeremy smiled. “No, Pop.”
“Does this mean I can retire?”
“No. You’re too young to retire.”
“I’m tired, Jeremy. Thirty years in this business is enough. Now all I want to do is fish and spoil my grandchildren.”
Jeremy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Can we talk about this another time?”
There was silence before Sheldon said, “Sure.”
“Good night, Pop.” He hung up the phone at the same time Tricia walked out of the bathroom.
“Who were you talking to?”
“My father. I called to let him know we’re safe. He’ll let your grandfather know that we’re together.”
Tricia nodded. It was one thing to sleep under Jeremy’s roof and another to sleep with him—in the same bed—at a bed-and-breakfast. She did not have to be a clairvoyant to know Gus Parker’s thoughts once Sheldon told him she and Jeremy were spending the night together away from the farm. Her grandfather had warned her repeatedly not to become involved with Jeremy…and she knew instinctively his warning had something to do with her mother.
Every time she’d asked her grandparents about her father they went mute. Had Patricia Parker become involved with someone who had been a boss’s son?
Reuniting with Jeremy had changed her because she now had answers to her past—all but the identity of her father. As soon as she returned to Blackstone Farms she intended to confront her grandfather about her mother and her father.
Tricia sat down on a chair beside the bed and stared at Jeremy. He lay, his head and shoulders cradled on a mound of pillows, staring up at the ceiling. A comfortable silence filled the space as the sound of rain lashed at the windows. She moved off the chair when a knock on the door signaled the arrival of their dinner.
Chapter Six
Tricia turned off the lamp and slipped under the cool crisp sheet. The heat from Jeremy’s nude body was overwhelming as he shifted on his side and rested an arm over her bare hip.
He nuzzled her ear. “How are you feeling?”
She smiled in the darkness. She could not remember the last time she’d felt so relaxed. “Wonderful. Why?”
Jeremy chuckled. “I don’t want to take advantage of you if you’re under the influence.” He had drunk three glasses of wine to her two.
Turning to face him, Tricia looped an arm over his shoulder. “You’re in no condition to talk trash, hotshot. Especially not with a busted ankle.”
“My busted ankle has nothing to do with my ability to make love to you,” he countered softly.
She snuggled against his chest. “Go to sleep, Jeremy.”
“I don’t think so.”
Tricia went completely still. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”
“No,” he whispered against her moist parted lips. “I want you.”
Pulling out of his embrace, she sat up and turned on the lamp on her side of the bed. Her heart fluttered wildly in her chest when she saw the direction of Jeremy’s gaze. He was staring at her breasts, and she resisted the urge to pull the sheet up to her neck.
“I’m not going to lie and say I don’t want you,” she whispered. “But…” Her words trailed off.
He pushed up on an elbow. “But what, Tricia?”
She bit her lower lip. “Making love will complicate things.”
“What things?”
“My having to leave you.”
Jeremy held her gaze. “Didn’t I tell you that I wouldn’t try to pressure you to stay?”
When it comes time for you to leave I will not put any pressure on you to force you to stay. His declaration had stayed with Tricia, she wanted to believe him.
“You promise?” Her voice was soft, childlike.
“Have I ever lied to you, Tricia?”
A smile trembled over her lips. “No, Jeremy. You’ve never lied to me.” Leaning forward, she kissed him, her lips caressing his. “No,” she whispered over and over as she kissed his chin, jaw and forehead. Moving over him, she lay between his legs and kissed every inch of his face before her tongue mapped a path down his chest to his flat belly.
Jeremy felt a swath of heat race down his body. It settled in his groin, and his sex hardened quickly. He had waited years, more than a decade to experience the unrestrained, uncontrollable desire Tricia wrung from him. While he lay hidden in a swamp in a South American jungle he’d thought of her and the times they’d made love. He had forced himself to remember all of the good times in his life while he awaited death either from venomous insects, reptiles or the men searching for the team of DEA agents who’d inadvertently stumbled upon their cocaine factory.
He closed his eyes, curled his fingers into a fist and reveled in the sensual waves rippling up and down his body, letting his senses take over. He heard the rain slashing at the windows, felt the sweep of Tricia’s breasts as she slid down his body and inhaled the fragrance of her perfume mingling with the rising scent of her desire. He did not know how, but he’d always been able to detect desire rising from the pores of her velvety skin.
Tricia had confessed to wanting him, even though she’d married another man, and it had been the same for him. Every woman he’d ever known had become Tricia Parker.
Unclenching his hands, he reached down and pulled her up before he climaxed. What he wanted—more than anything—was to explode inside her hot fragrant body.
Tricia tried freeing herself from Jeremy’s grip, but she was no match for his superior strength as she lay over his chest. The soft light from the lamp spilled over his features. His eyes were dark and unfathomable.
“Sit on me,” he ordered quietly.
She shook her head. “No, Jeremy. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He covered a breast with his hand, measuring the shape and weight of the full, ripe globe. His thumb made sweeping motions over the nipple. It hardened quickly.
“Another part of my body is hurting right now, and it’s definitely not my foot.”
Tricia knew if she permitted Jeremy to penetrate her without using protection, then there was the possibility of her becoming pregnant. She could not forget how easily she had conceived a child with him fourteen years before.
She shook her head again. “Not without protection, Jeremy.”
His mouth twitched in amusement. “There are condoms in the bathroom.”
Her jaw dropped. “You brought condoms with you?”
Jeremy was amused by her reaction. “No. There are a few in my grooming basket. Either you get them or hand me the crutches and I’ll get them.”
Tricia leaned closer and pressed her breasts to his chest. The strong, steady pumping of his heart echoed hers. “Let me make love to you without you penetrating me,” she whispered close to his ear.
He smiled. “The next time you can make love to me. Tonight we’ll make love to each other. I want to be inside you.”
Tri
cia wanted Jeremy inside her, so deep he touched her womb, deep enough to make her sob in ecstasy as he’d done when she was a girl. She wanted him so deep inside her that they’d cease to exist as separate entities. But as much as she wanted Jeremy, Tricia feared becoming pregnant again.
“Please don’t make me beg, sweetheart,” Jeremy whispered.
He was asking what she’d wanted for years, what she wanted each time she’d permitted her ex-husband to make love to her. She’d spent years since she’d left the farm fantasizing about sleeping with Jeremy, and now that she was given a second chance she found herself balking.
She’d had and lost their baby. In that instant, Tricia vowed that if she were to become pregnant again, this time she would tell Jeremy. She kissed him deeply, her tongue meeting and curling around his in a sensual dance of desire.
“Don’t go away. I’ll be right back.”
Jeremy’s gaze followed her as she slipped off the bed and made her way to the bathroom. She had gained weight in all the right places. Her body was full and voluptuous. It reminded him of lush, sweet overripe fruit. Tricia’s footfalls were silent as she returned to the bed. Extending her hand, she dropped a small square packet onto his chest.
Smiling, Jeremy picked it up and tore open the foil covering and took out the latex sheath. “Can you please put it on?” He held it up with his injured left hand.
Tricia rested her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowing. “You’re really pushing it, aren’t you?”
He lifted a raven eyebrow. “It’s your call, Tricia. It wouldn’t bother me if you rode bareback.”
She shook her head. “No, Jeremy. I can’t afford to get pregnant.”
Jeremy sobered and pushed himself into a sitting position. “You know I always wanted you to be the mother of our children.”
What Tricia wanted to tell him was that she’d had his child—a daughter who’d looked so much like him. Taking the condom, she slipped it on. She had barely completed the task when she found her face pressed to Jeremy’s hard shoulder, his hand cupping the back of her head.
The Blackstone Legacy Page 18