Gabriel relaxed a bit, and then stiffened. Maria realized that Gabriel was lying between her parted thighs. She locked eyes with him and the desire burning in his gaze left her shaking, her core suddenly molten. Very carefully, still holding her eyes, he settled his lower body on top of hers and she nearly cried out at feeling his heavy weight there. Her legs came up instinctively and she cradled him, her hips lifting a bit, rubbing her mound against his rapidly hardening cock.
“Dad! Miss Maria! Are you both okay?” Elizabeth yelled to them.
The sounds of the children making their way through the snow to where they lay was a huge shock, startling both of them out of the erotic spell they’d fallen under.
Gabriel immediately scrambled off of Maria, desperately hoping that his erection wasn’t visible under the thick denim he wore. My God, he’d never forgotten himself that completely before.
“Don’t worry, we’re fine,” he called out reassuringly. “Maria lost her breath for a moment and I was just checking her over.”
He nearly winced at how suggestive that sounded—he chanced a glance at Maria and she was suppressing a laugh, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.
“Yes, your father was being very thorough in his examination,” she said with a teasing smile.
“Wow, I can’t believe how fast you two were going,” Sam said in an awestruck tone. “Dad, can we try going that fast together?”
Gabriel chuckled. “I’m not sure if that’ll be possible, but we can definitely try. But first, is anyone ready for some hot chocolate? I see Mrs. Phillips with a tray at the door for us, and I bet she baked cookies too.”
“Awesome! I’m starving—hey, let’s get something to eat.” Sam beckoned for his sisters to follow and they took off for the house.
Gabriel climbed to his feet and offered his hand to Maria. “I feel like some hot chocolate too. Shall we join them?”
Maria took his proffered hand and he pulled her up, feeling the solid strength of his fingers even through their gloves. When she tried to drop his hand, his fingers tightened on her own before he finally let go.
“Ria, about Olivia—”
She pressed a finger lightly to Gabriel’s mouth, stopping his words. “Don’t say anything right now, okay? I’m not quite ready to talk about her, not right at this moment—I just want to enjoy today with you and the children, and not think about anything else.”
At first it seemed as if he wanted to argue, but at the pleading look on Maria’s face, he slowly nodded and caught her hand as she withdrew, pressing a kiss on her gloved palm. “Not right now, but soon then.”
Maria nodded, giving him a grateful smile. “Soon, I promise.”
Together, they walked towards the house and the children.
SEVEN
MARIA PAUSED IN THE GRAND entrance hall—she could hear someone playing the piano in the ballroom. After lunch, Matt had fetched Gabriel for a business call that Gabriel had said might take a while—did he finish his call early?
As she walked closer to the ballroom she heard the familiar notes of Debussy—it was “Clair de lune,” one of the pieces he played the night they met. Her heartbeat quickened and she reached out and pushed the double doors open. Disappointment settled when she realized that it wasn’t Gabriel, it was…Elizabeth?
Elizabeth looked up from the piano when she heard the door open and immediately jumped up from the bench. “Oh, Miss Maria!”
Maria smiled at her, not sure why Elizabeth looked so anxious. “I heard you playing in the hall—that was beautiful, Elizabeth. I thought you were in the media room watching the movie with the others and didn’t realize it was you on the piano. You’re very talented.”
“Thank you, Miss Maria, I haven’t had any lessons for a long time so I’m sure I’m not as good as I once was.” Elizabeth hesitated for a moment then blurted out, “Please don’t tell my father that I was playing the piano in here!”
Maria was startled at Elizabeth’s request. “I don’t understand—are you not allowed to play the piano?”
“No.” Elizabeth shook her head vigorously. “Dad hasn’t wanted anyone to play the piano since Mom died.”
“Not play the piano?” Maria said, shocked. “But why not?”
“It’s because the piano reminds him of Mom. He used to play for her all the time, and he was teaching me how to play too, and we’d play duets together for Mom. But after she was gone, Dad never played the piano again, so I didn’t get any more lessons either. One time I came in here to play and when Dad heard me he got really angry and yelled at me to stop playing, that I was never to touch this piano again.
It was really hard for me because I love playing the piano, so when Dad was away I’d sometimes sneak in here to play, and I’ve been looking at videos online and teaching myself to play.”
Maria’s heart broke, for both Elizabeth and Gabriel. There was no way she’d let Elizabeth go on like this, not if it was up to her. Coming to a decision, she smiled reassuringly at Elizabeth.
“Well since everyone is occupied and elsewhere, why don’t you continue playing? Your father is still in his office, I just checked,” she lied smoothly. “I’ll close the door so you won’t be disturbed.”
Elizabeth’s face brightened. “Oh thank you, Miss Maria! And if you see my father coming this way, can you just give me a quick warning? Thanks so much!”
Maria nodded, feeling a little guilty for lying to her since as far as she was concerned, Gabriel would definitely hear Elizabeth playing.
GABRIEL AND MATT LOOKED UP at the knock on the door. They’d just ended a conference call with a start-up in California looking to expand, and Gabriel was anxious to get back to Maria and the children.
The door opened and Maria poked her head in and smiled. “I hope I’m not disturbing you, Mr. Trentham, but if you’re finished, I have something I need to discuss with you.”
Gabriel completely ignored the amused smirk Matt sent him at Maria’s prim use of “Mr. Trentham.” Obviously, Matt knew theirs was much more complicated than the typical employer/employee relationship. “Of course, I’m actually finished here. Matt, you can take care of the follow-up without me, right?”
“Don’t worry, there isn’t much left, just some emails to send off,” Matt said cheerfully. “I’ll let you know if anything else comes up.”
“Thanks, Matt. I’ll be with the children if you need me.” Gabriel got up from his desk and walked to Maria. “What is it, is something wrong?”
Maria shook her head. “It’s not an emergency, but I want to show you something.”
Gabriel raised a quizzical brow but was silent as Maria led him back to the entrance hall. He noticed that the ballroom doors were slightly ajar and he could hear someone playing the piano inside. He frowned. “What’s that? Who’s playing in there?”
“It’s Elizabeth. That’s what I wanted to show you. Elizabeth says that you don’t want her to play, not since her mother died, and she’s terrified to be caught playing. But she loves it, and she’s very good. It’s evident that she’s inherited your talent.”
Gabriel closed his eyes, remorse for more of his past actions making his heart hurt. He remembered yelling at her to stop playing, telling her never to play again. Elizabeth had been eight when Elle died, old enough to be scarred by his emotional neglect, which was why she’d been the child most wary of him when he’d started to reach out to them. He just hoped he could make it up to her now.
He opened his eyes to find Maria looking at him with both compassion and understanding. He managed a small smile. “Thank you. It seems I still have a lot to answer for.”
He turned to the doors, pausing just outside when he realized what Elizabeth was playing. Of course, it was “Clair de lune”—it had been Elle’s favorite piece and he’d played it for her often. He vividly remembered teaching Elizabeth how to play it and Elle often joining them for the lessons, just to hear them both play.
Very carefully he opened the door, not wanting to alert
Elizabeth to his presence yet. He could see her bent over the keyboard, a look of utter concentration on her face as she played from memory. Occasionally she would stumble and she’d mutter under her breath, but she continued playing. Maria was right—Elizabeth was very good, and with practice and the proper lessons, could even become brilliant. His eldest had always loved the piano, even as toddler, and anguish filled him at how he’d denied her this for so long.
Elizabeth came to the final notes and Gabriel clapped slowly, walking into the room.
She whirled around on the bench, alarm clear on her face. “Dad! I can explain, please—“
“Lizzie, there’s nothing to explain,” Gabriel interrupted gently. “But that was wonderful, sweetheart, simply wonderful.”
She blinked at him and Gabriel ached at the doubt and wariness that filled her eyes.
“But aren’t you mad at me? I thought you didn’t want me to touch the piano, ever?”
He sighed, knowing that it was important to have this conversation with her. He walked over to her and sat down on the bench, looking down at his hands, hoping to find the right words.
“Lizzie, after Mom died, I know I made a lot of mistakes with you and your siblings. I pushed you all away, when I should have held you even closer. It wasn’t because I stopped loving you, I swear. It was just—losing Mom just hurt so much, and I couldn’t deal with anything that reminded me of her, and that included you all.”
“Dad, I know,” Elizabeth whispered, tears gathering in her eyes. “We all knew that it was because you loved Mom so much and that being with us reminded you of her. We missed her so much too—and then we missed you as well.”
“Can you forgive me, Lizzie?” Gabriel asked, swallowing a lump. “I’m so sorry for not being here for you. I love you so much, and I swear I’ll never do that to you or the others ever again.”
“Daddy, of course I forgive you!” Elizabeth started sobbing and threw herself into his arms.
Gabriel held her tightly, feeling her slight form trembling, and brushed a kiss on her head. “I love you, pumpkin.”
“I love you, too, Daddy,” she sniffed, and then pulled back. “So you’re really not angry about me playing the piano?”
“No, sweetheart. I never should have stopped your lessons—I denied us both a chance to remember Mom together. She would have hated that we both stopped playing after she was gone. I would love to start your lessons again—would you like that?”
“Oh, Daddy! Yes, I would love if you could teach me again!”
Elizabeth looked like she was going to start crying again, and Gabriel felt a burning sensation at the back of his own eyes. Wanting to distract them both, he tenderly wiped a tear away from her cheek and smiled softly. “Do you want to play with me now?”
“Play with you? You mean, like a duet?” Elizabeth asked with a delighted grin, and her smile was so like Elle’s in that moment.
Gabriel nodded, suddenly feeling light and happy. “Yes, a duet. Do you remember your part to this?”
And he turned around so he was facing the piano and started the left part to “Heart and Soul.” Elizabeth giggled and his heart sang at the joyful sound. She tentatively picked out the melody and soon they were playing together, improvising and laughing at their mistakes.
Neither of them noticed the figure at the doorway who smiled tenderly at them before she quietly closed the door, giving father and daughter some much overdue private time together.
"IT SEEMS I OWE YOU many thanks, again. At this rate, the entire Trentham family will be in your debt for a very long time to come.” The words were said lightly but the look in his eyes was anything but.
Maria shook her head with a soft smile. “I didn’t do anything. All I did was to show you the metaphorical door—it was up to you to open it, and step through. Which you did and Elizabeth was on the other side waiting for you.”
“Nonetheless, you’ve made an enormous difference in all our lives and the children are already beginning to love you, I can tell. Are you sure you’re not really Mary Poppins with your practically perfect ways?” he drawled teasingly.
She choked on a laugh, and glanced quickly at the children to make sure the noise hadn’t woken them up. But they were all still fast asleep in their sleeping bags, laid out in the great room with the fire burning low in the fireplace.
The family Christmas tree—half the size of the one that towered in the entry hall but still a grand, glorious sight—stood tall in a corner of the room, and Maria’s heart warmed to see many ornaments obviously made by the children hanging proudly on the branches, while a beautiful, delicate angel graced the top of the tree. Despite the sheer size of the room—and it was called the great room with good reason—there was a warm, cozy feel to the room and she’d felt comfortable in here immediately.
When Bridget and Sam had first suggested during dinner of having a family sleepover in the great room, Maria had been sure Gabriel would immediately veto the idea. But he had surprised her when he considered it for a long moment, staring at the excited, hopeful expressions on the children’s faces before he agreed, but making sure they understood it was only because school was still cancelled for the next day.
Gabriel had also agreed to the children’s request that he spend the night with them in the great room, although he drew the line at sleeping on the floor—he would sleep on the big sectional sofa instead, where Meggie had also elected to curl up.
After dinner, they’d all washed up and changed into pajamas before coming back downstairs with pillows, stuffed animals and sleeping bags. Ironically enough, they’d watched Mary Poppins on the huge plasma TV in the great room before toasting s’mores and having warm milk. Maria had told them stories and taught them some songs she learned at the convent. It wasn’t too long before the children had fallen asleep, Meggie being the first to succumb.
Now it was just Gabriel and Maria who remained awake, facing each other but being careful not to touch on the sectional, and Maria shivered at how incredibly seductive the situation suddenly felt. With the children asleep around them and the only light from the fire, Maria could almost imagine that this was her family, especially with Gabriel speaking to her in such a soft, intimate tone.
“I think the sisters at Sacred Heart would strongly disagree with you about the practically perfect part,” she murmured.
He smiled crookedly at her. “Well, you might not be perfect for a nun, but I think you’re perfect for me—and for us.”
Maria’s heart starting pounding so hard, she was afraid he could hear it. She wished he wouldn’t say things like that—it made it so hard for her to remember that he wasn’t hers, that she wasn’t a part of this family, that she was supposed to leave in just a few days when leaving was the very last thing she wanted to do.
“Since you decided that you wouldn’t be a very good nun, why did you choose it then?” he asked, looking at her searchingly.
Maria hesitated, not sure how much to tell him.
“Well, when I was in college, I was a student teacher at the school associated with the nuns at the Sacred Heart, so I got to know them well. My parents were devout Catholics, and they’d raised me in the Church. They were older when they had me, so by the time I came along my grandparents on both sides were already gone. They were also both only childs, so it was just the three of us. After they died in a boating accident, the Church took me in since I had no family and I spent a lot of time with the nuns then, before I got placed in foster care. They were the most stable influence for me growing up. So I already had a lot of respect and affection for them.
The Sisters all seemed so serene and certain of their place in the world, and of their calling. This may sound odd, but the idea of having that certainty was…seductive, for the lack of a better word. Of course I had overly romanticized the Sisters and their way of life. Even as a novice that serenity and certainty eluded me and I was constantly admonished for not following the rules of the novitiate and trust me, there were
a lot of them!”
“Did you know it was a mistake right away?” he asked softly.
She grimaced. “That would have been the smart thing to do, but no, I was determined to make it work. I’m nothing if not stubborn and my stubbornness wouldn’t allow me to realize the mistake I’d made, at least not for awhile.”
“What happened then?”
“I’d been at the convent for well over a year when the Mother Superior finally had a long chat with me about my suitability, or lack of it as it were. She was absolutely right of course—I would have made a terrible nun, if I’d been allowed to get that far.” But even knowing it was a mistake didn’t lessen the hurt that the Sisters hadn’t wanted her, irrational though it was.
Maria spoke lightly, but Gabriel frowned, obviously sensing that there was much she was leaving out.
“Did you feel that they rejected you?”
She winced at the direct hit—she’d been even more transparent than she realized. “A little, yes. I thought that they’d be my new family, but it didn’t turn out that way.”
“From what you told me before, I know you weren’t adopted. How many foster homes did you have?” he asked.
“I lived in five different homes, not counting the orphanage. Some of the stays were for just a few months, while the longest stay was for two years.” She tried to keep her voice matter-of-fact, but she was afraid he was too observant to fool.
“Did you ever get close to being adopted?” he asked, his voice compassionate.
She swallowed. “Once, I thought that maybe my foster parents were thinking about adopting me, but it didn’t work out.”
She didn’t mention that the hope had never died, until she finally aged out of foster care. Like the Trentham children, she knew what it was to hope for the impossible—the big difference being that the Trentham children still had a father who loved them, and they just had to be patience enough to wait for him to come back to them. Their hope had born fruit, while hers…
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