“Will you share a bath with me?”
Tricia closed her eyes. “Yes.”
Turning her in his embrace, Jeremy cradled her face between his palms. “I love you so much, Tricia.” His voice was pregnant with emotion. Her lids fluttered wildly before she met his heated gaze.
“I have to give you your wedding gift.”
A hint of a smile touched Jeremy’s mouth. “You are my wedding, birthday, Christmas, New Year’s and every day and holiday gift. I don’t need anything—only you.”
Leaning into him, Tricia’s lips brushed against his. “And you’re all I’ll ever need, Jeremy.” She kissed him again, then turned in his embrace and presented him with her back. “Please unbutton me.”
Jeremy made a big production of undoing the little buttons. With each inch of flesh he bared he kissed. The top of the dress slid off her shoulders and the handkerchief fell to the floor. He bent over and picked it up. Tricia quickly explained the significance of something borrowed, eliciting a laugh from him.
“I thought you wanted to plump up your—”
“Don’t even go there, Jeremy Blackstone,” she said, cutting him off. “I have enough, thank you.”
Slipping his fingers under the straps of her slip, he eased it off her shoulders before unhooking her bra and baring her chest. Her breasts were large and firm like ripened fruit, fruit he wanted to suckle, fruit he wanted to feast on.
Tricia felt the heat of her husband’s gaze on her chest, and the area between her legs responded immediately with a rush of moisture that left the nether region pulsing with a need that only Jeremy could assuage.
Jeremy’s eyes widened until the dark centers fused with the sooty gray. His nostrils flared as he detected the scent of Tricia’s rising desire. She was ready for him.
“I’ll be right back.” Turning on his heel, he walked stiffly out of the bathroom. He had to get away from Tricia before he ripped the clothes from her body and took her on the tiled floor. He wanted her just that much.
But this was their wedding night, a night in which their coming together would be special enough for them to talk about when they were too old to do more than kiss and hold hands.
Tricia filled the large tub, undressed, hanging up her clothes in a corner closet and opened her vanity case. She’d managed to brush her teeth and cleanse the makeup from her face before Jeremy returned.
He was naked, and recessed lighting shimmered over a tall, lean dark body that reminded her of an African totem representing fertility.
Jeremy pushed a knob on the tub and water pulsed from the many jets. Smiling, he reached for her hand and led her down four marble steps into the swirling water. Warm water lapped over Tricia’s breasts as she floated buoyantly until her toes touched the bottom of the concave tub.
Curving her arms around her husband’s strong neck, she kissed him deeply, her tongue curling with his, the scent of mint wafting in her nostrils from his toothpaste and mouthwash.
It had been too long—weeks since they’d made love and Tricia responded like a cat in heat. Her hands swept over his shoulders, chest, breasts, belly and still lower to the hardness bobbing against her inner thigh.
Jeremy threw back his head and groaned loudly. The touch of Tricia’s hand squeezing his flesh was like a heated branding iron. He had wanted this coming together to be slow and leisurely, but knew it was not to be. Moving back to a depression built into the tub, he sat, bringing Tricia with him as she straddled his thighs.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, he lifted her easily and she guided his sex into her body. They sighed in unison as flesh closed around flesh.
Bracing his back against the marble ledge, Jeremy watched desire darken Tricia’s eyes and face. Cupping her breasts he lowered his head and suckled her, nipples and areolae hardening like tiny pebbles. She met each of his powerful thrusts, giving and receiving in kind.
The passion he had withheld from every woman he had ever known he surrendered to Tricia.
The love he was unable to give any other woman he had ever met he surrendered to Tricia.
The children he’d hoped to have but never risked creating with any woman he surrendered to Tricia.
Everything he was and hoped to be he surrendered to the woman in his arms: his wife.
Tricia melted against Jeremy and her body and world was filled with him. Nothing mattered. The pain and loss of Juliet faded as she lowered her head to Jeremy’s shoulder and prayed for the beginnings of new life in her womb.
The pain, hurt, lies and deceit faded completely as a desire she had never known gripped her mind and body, setting them on fire. Her husband became flesh of her flesh, heart of her heart and soul of her soul.
She breathed in deep soul-wrenching drafts as waves of ecstasy throbbed through her lower body. Her hips quickened, moving against Jeremy’s in an age-old rhythm that sent scalding blood through her veins.
She was on fire!
Tricia’s eager response matched Jeremy’s. He felt his flesh hardening, swelling until a familiar sensation signaled their passionate lovemaking was nearing its climax.
He closed his eyes, threw back his head and growled deep in his throat when her pulsing flesh squeezed him tightly. His breath came in long, surrendering moans at the same time Tricia’s fingernails bit into the flesh over his shoulders. He welcomed the pain as he succumbed to le petit mort. He had faced death again, but this time it was in the most exquisite way possible. It was in the scented embrace of a woman he would love forever.
A moan of ecstasy slipped through Tricia’s clenched teeth. She had wanted it to last longer but her body’s dormant sexuality was starved for a desire long denied, and she was hurtled beyond the point of no return as a lingering pulsing passion burned like smoldering embers. She clung to Jeremy like a drowning swimmer, her head resting on his shoulder while she waited for her pulse to return to normal.
She closed her eyes and smiled. “I love you,” she whispered hoarsely.
Jeremy tightened his grip on her waist. “Love you back.”
Tricia and Jeremy returned to Blackstone Farms enveloped in a glow of love and contentment that was obvious to all who glimpsed them. They had spent three days cloistered in the cabin, making love, cooking and planning their future.
Jeremy maneuvered into the driveway to Sheldon’s house and cut off the ignition. Shifting, he smiled at Tricia. He had wanted to take her home, but she insisted they stop to see Gus.
Resting his right arm over the back of her seat, he leaned over and brushed a light kiss over her parted lips. “You’re still glowing.”
Tricia nuzzled his neck. “That comes from being in love.” She had lost count of the number of times they’d made love with each other. It was as if they were insatiable and wanted to make up for the time they were apart. And each time she opened her arms and legs to her husband she opened her heart to accept all Jeremy offered.
Jeremy stepped out of the vehicle to assist Tricia when he spied the familiar figure of his father sitting out on the porch. He waved to the older man. “Hey, Pop.”
Sheldon pushed off the chair and came down the porch. A warm smile softened his sharp features. “Hey, yourself.” He offered Jeremy a rough embrace before he leaned into the open passenger-side window and pressed a kiss to Tricia’s cheek. “You look wonderful.”
Tricia returned his rare smile. “I feel wonderful. We came by to check on my grandfather.”
“Gus went out.”
“Out!” Tricia practically shouted.
“He went to the movies,” Sheldon said quickly. “His nurse thought he would do better if he didn’t stay home so much, so she took him to the movies to see a romantic comedy about two middle-aged couples who find love after they join a group for widows and widowers.”
Jeremy leaned against the bumper of the SUV and crossed his arms over his chest. “You should’ve gone with them. You could use a few pointers about getting back into the dating scene.”
Sheldon’
s eyebrows drew together in a scowl. “Tricia, please take your husband home.” Turning on his heel, he mounted the porch stairs and went into the large white house.
Tricia knew Ryan wanted his father to remarry, but this was the first time she’d heard Jeremy mention it. “Jeremy, let’s go home.”
Jeremy shifted and rested his arm over Tricia’s hip. “Do you think I pissed Pop off?”
Tricia opened her eyes and stared out at the shadowy darkness. “You know your father better than I would ever know him, but I suspect he resented your intrusion into his personal life.”
“Pop has been alone for too long.”
Tricia turned and faced her husband. “He’s single by choice, darling. Your father is a very handsome man whom many women would find attractive and consider a very good catch. Once he meets the right woman he’ll want to change his marital status without his sons insisting they know what’s best for him.”
Jeremy’s arm tightened on her waist, bringing her body flush against his. “Are you telling me to mind my business?”
She smiled in the dimness of the bedroom. “Yes, my love. No, Jeremy!” she gasped when a hand reached down and covered her feminine heat.
Her protests were short-lived once she found herself sprawled over her husband’s chest, and the only thing that mattered was that she loved the man in her arms as much as he loved her.
Chapter Twelve
Tricia sat on the floor in the living room opening cartons. It had taken her two days to empty the boxes containing items for the kitchen and put everything she intended to keep away. Another day was spent unpacking china, silver and stemware that had once graced her dining room. She preferred her own dining room furniture to the style that Jeremy had selected. When she told him she wanted to make the switch he told her that the house was hers to change, decorate or renovate.
He had begun the responsibility of taking over the reins of running the horse farm from Sheldon. Jeremy, Sheldon and Ryan had established a ritual of meeting after breakfast to discuss the farm’s finances and the projected sale of existing stock to increase cash flow. Expanding Blackstone Farms Day School from preschool to sixth grade had strained the farm’s cash reserves. It would take more than two years of tuition from the non-farm students to recoup the expenditures.
Tricia glanced up when she heard familiar footsteps. Jeremy stood over her, smiling. He tightened the knot to a wine-colored tie under the collar of a stark-white shirt. Her wedding gift to him of a pair of white-gold and onyx cufflinks were fitted into the shirt’s French cuffs. He and Sheldon were scheduled to go into Richmond for a breakfast meeting with a banker to apply for a short-term loan.
“I have some money,” she said without preamble.
Jeremy’s hands stilled. “What are you talking about?”
“I have some money,” she repeated, “you could use to ease the farm’s cash flow.” The first time Jeremy discussed the farm’s finances with her she thought about the money sitting in a Baltimore bank collecting interest. The money she had received as a settlement and the proceeds from the sale of her home was more than the amount Sheldon intended to borrow.
Jeremy eased his tall frame down to the sofa, his gaze fixed on an open box. Resting atop a sheet of bubble wrap was a photograph of Tricia cradling a baby. At that moment he was grateful he was seated, realizing he could have fallen and reinjured his ankle.
Tricia looked the way she had before she’d left the farm. Her hair was long, and instead of the single braid it flowed around her shoulders in curly ringlets. The child staring out at the camera was an exact replica of the images in his own baby photographs.
She had had his child and not told him!
Rage swelled not permitting him to breathe. “Why didn’t you tell me?” The question was squeezed out between his clenched teeth.
“What are—” The words died on Tricia’s lips when she noticed the direction of Jeremy’s gaze. Sitting atop the box she’d just opened was the only photograph of her with her daughter she’d kept. In her grief, she had cut up all of the others before realizing she would want one tangible memory of her beautiful baby.
She reached out to touch Jeremy’s knee, but he jerked away as if she were carrying a communicable disease. Rising to his feet, he glared at her. “Don’t touch me.”
Tricia went to her knees, her eyes filling with tears. “Jeremy, please. Let me explain.”
His hands curled into tight fists as he glowered at the woman he wanted to hate. He shook his head. “No, Tricia. I don’t…I can’t. Not now.”
The tears filling her eyes fell, streaking her face, and she collapsed to the floor not seeing her husband when he walked out of the room. However, she did hear the front door he’d slammed so violently that windows shook. She cried until spent, and when Gus found her she was still on the floor.
He managed to convince her to get off the floor and sit on the sofa. Curving an arm around her shoulders, he pressed a kiss to her short hair. “What’s the matter, grandbaby girl?”
Tricia told her grandfather about Jeremy seeing the photograph of her and Juliet. “He hates me, Grandpa.”
Gus patted her back. “No, he doesn’t. He’s hurt because you didn’t tell him that he had become a father.”
“I have to make him understand that I didn’t deliberately deceive him.”
“Jeremy loves you, Tricia. And because he does he’ll come around.”
She wanted to believe her grandfather, but the look on Jeremy’s face and his “Don’t touch me,” said otherwise. Easing out of Gus’s protective embrace, Tricia stood up and headed toward the door.
“I’m going out.”
Lines of concern creased Gus’s forehead. “Are you going to be all right?”
She stopped, not turning, and flashed a wry smile. “Yes. I’m going to wait for my husband to come home, then I’m going to tell him about his daughter.”
“You can tell Jeremy about Juliet after I tell you about Patricia and your father.” Gus saw Tricia’s back stiffen, but she did not move. “Your mother got a part-time job at Sheffield’s Hardware the year she turned sixteen. Olga warned her about Sheffield’s son, who did not have the best reputation with young women. Patricia wouldn’t listen and snuck out nights to meet him.
“Patricia thought he was going to marry her once she told him she was carrying his baby. Of course that never happened because his father had made plans for him to go away to college. She dropped out of school, had you and took up with him again. It all ended after Morgan Sheffield left Staunton to attend college. You were a year old when Patricia put you in my arms and asked me to take care of you. The next time I saw my only child was three months later when I had to go to Tennessee to identify her body. The police told me she’d died of malnutrition. It was apparent she had starved herself to death. I brought her body back and had her cremated.
“I know your pain, grandbaby, because I know how it feels to lose a child. Raising you offered me another chance at parenthood. But once I realized you were involved with Sheldon’s son it was like déjà vu. The difference was that Jeremy loved you and he still loves you.”
Her shoulders slumping, Tricia nodded. “Thank you, Grandpa, for telling me about my mother. Now I have closure.”
She walked out of the house and made her way toward the road that would take her to the north end of the horse farm. A sad smile touched her mouth. The Sheffields had abandoned their business more than ten years ago, after a Home Depot was erected in a strip mall several miles off the interstate.
Her past behind her, Tricia knew she had to right her future.
The first person Jeremy saw when he returned home after his meeting with the bank president was his wife’s grandfather. “Good afternoon, Grandpa.”
It actually wasn’t a good afternoon because he hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything since seeing the photograph of Tricia with his child. The image of the baby with black curly hair and large gray eyes would haunt him to the grave.
Gus nodded, his expression impassive. “Good afternoon, son.” He gestured to a nearby chair. “Come, sit down.”
“If you don’t mind I’d like to talk to Tricia.”
“Tricia’s not here. Sit down.”
Jeremy went completely still. “What do you mean she’s not here?”
Gus saw naked fear on Jeremy’s face. “She didn’t run away, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Where is she?”
“She went for a walk.”
Turning on his heel, Jeremy retraced his steps off the porch. “I’ll see you later.”
Gus nodded, watching the tall figure as he walked to his vehicle and drove away. It was obvious Tricia was not her mother because she had fallen in love with a man who loved her unconditionally.
Jeremy let out his breath in a ragged shudder as he stopped and cut off the engine. She was there, sitting under a weeping willow tree, her bare feet in a narrow stream. He had driven to the section of the farm where they’d once picnicked and made love. He walked over to where she sat staring up at him. Her gaze was unwavering as she rose fluidly from the grass.
“If you want a divorce, then I won’t contest it.”
Jeremy moved closer until they were only inches apart and slipped his hands into the pockets of his trousers to keep from touching his wife.
“There will not be a divorce, Tricia. Not now, not ever. Unless…”
Her eyelids fluttered. “Unless what?”
“You’re ready to give me back my heart.”
Tricia stared at the man with the luminous eyes that had the power to reach inside her and hold her heart captive. “No, Jeremy. I can’t give it back because I don’t want to.”
A smile softened his mouth. “And I don’t want you to.” He pulled his hands from his pockets and reached for her. Burying his face in her hair, Jeremy pressed a kiss there. “I can’t believe I did the same thing I did fourteen years ago—walk away from you rather than staying to face the truth.”
The Blackstone Legacy Page 24