Книга - Defying Desire

Defying Desire
A.C. Arthur


Fashion model Tia St. Claire keeps things light when it comes to men…no strings, just flings. She's got her reasons, thank you. But even she finds Trent Donovan hard to resist–he's sexy, successful, persistent and built for a woman's wildest dreams. When their one-night stand leaves defiant longings, Tia isn't sure whether to run, hide or surrender to the former navy SEAL's rugged charms.The last of the successful and seriously single "Triple Threat" Donovan brothers still happily unattached, Trent Donovan has dedicated his career to duty and danger. Until desire and beautiful, spirited Tia change everything. Now he's sleepless over an attraction too powerful to deny, and a secret dilemma with only one way out–following his heart.









“I want you in my bed, tonight,” she said without further hesitation. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”


He stood then, picking her up so that her legs wrapped around his waist. His lips crashed down over hers, his tongue plundering hers with deep thrusts and smooth strokes. His hands cupped her bottom, gripping each mound with the promise of more to come. Tia instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her aching center into him, wanting more, needing it all.



She felt him move, turn in the opposite direction, but his hands were now pushing her dress up farther until he touched the bare flesh of her bottom, skimming the thin wisp of her thong. Her entire body shivered at the brief contact. She sighed and nipped his bottom lip.



“Which way?” he rasped.



Tia couldn’t speak, but pointed toward the bedroom.




A.C. ARTHUR


Artist C. Arthur was born and raised in Baltimore, Maryland, where she currently resides with her husband and three children. An active imagination and a love for reading encouraged her to begin writing in high school, and she hasn’t stopped since. Determined to bring a new edge to romance, she continues to develop intriguing plots, racy characters and fresh dialogue—thus keeping readers on their toes! Visit her Web site at www.acarthur.net.




Defying Desire

A.C. Arthur







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To the readers who couldn’t wait to see Trent fall.


Dear Reader,



It’s finally his turn!



The infamous, arrogant, sexy, domineering Trent Donovan is now in murky waters as his desire for Tia St. Claire has him doing the exact thing he’d ragged his brothers about: falling in love.



Trent is a good man; I think that was obvious in the way he showed his love and devotion for his brothers in Love Me Like No Other and A Cinderella Affair. He just had to find that special woman, one who could give him what he needed—in all areas. Tia is that woman. She can do a one-night stand, she can do nonchalant, she can take him or leave him. But she can also touch a part of him that no other woman has.



Defying Desire was an emotional story, but one with such a heartfelt ending that it had to be told. So enjoy Trent and then be on the lookout for the rest of the Donovan clan to find their love as well!



AC




Contents


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18




Chapter 1


“You give new meaning to the word untamable,” Lincoln Donovan said, chuckling as he opened the door to his truck and stepped inside.

“What?” Trenton Donovan opened the back door to his older brother’s Suburban and tossed his bags on the floor. “You can’t trust women. Adam’s crazy ex Kim proved that point.”

Trent climbed inside on the passenger side and pulled his seat belt across him as his older brother started the engine.

“All you had to do was have her checked out like you do everybody else. You didn’t have to sleep with her and then walk out on her. And you said she had a child?” Lincoln asked.

Trent defended himself. “First of all, I didn’t sleep with her and walk out. Lynn knew that I wasn’t looking for anything long term. I told her as much when I realized we were feeling each other. And as for the kid, Jeremy was pretty cool. But where there’s a child there’s bound to be a daddy and that leads to trouble.”

“Like I said, you could have just checked her out. You were working with her brother on a case so you probably shouldn’t have messed with her in the first place. Sam Desdune is never going to ask for your help again,” Linc chided.

Trent had thought the same thing himself after the one night he spent with Lynn, but by that point it was too late. To her credit, Lynn hadn’t taken the night they’d celebrated the capture of her younger sister’s stalker any more seriously than Trent had. Her own issues with her runaway ex-husband and her young son were her priorities, not trying to build something with Trent.

It had been an impulsive act, one that he regretted only in the sense that he’d used Lynn Desdune as a replacement for the one woman who continued to elude him.

They were driving down the highway on their way to the Donovan family estate. Henry and Beverly Donovan were fanatical about their family. And since Trent was the middle child, the renegade of the three sons formally dubbed the Triple Threat Donovans, they paid special attention to him.

After a two-month assignment in Connecticut, he’d recently returned home to Vegas and was welcomed by sonogram pictures of the twins growing in Jade’s stomach. Jade and Linc had been married for almost six months and already she was pregnant. Linc was so excited he practically had father-to-be tattooed on his forehead.

Once at the estate Trent was sure that his younger brother Adam and his fiancée, Camille, would be there. Noelle, Jade’s younger sister would come along sharing her latest escapade. Noelle was a burst of energy in the low-key Donovan household. However, Trent had to admit that her reckless nature was beginning to subside. He suspected Linc and the trust he showed by hiring her at the Gramercy Casino was the reason for that.

At any rate, the hot shower, spicy wings and stack of Sports Illustrated magazines waiting for him back at his townhouse would have to wait. Family was very important to him and he wanted to spend quality time with everyone especially since he’d just witnessed two close-knit families almost torn apart by revenge.

That reminded him that he needed to really give some thought to Sam Desdune’s offer. Partnering with Sam and opening a P.I. agency on the West Coast was something he needed to seriously consider.

Trent and Sam had met years ago on an assignment for the military and remained close afterward. A former police officer in the sleepy town of Greenwich, Connecticut, Sam now owned his own P.I. firm. Trent had flown to the East Coast to assist Sam and one of his high-profile clients with a particularly sensitive investigation.

For twelve years Trent had been a Navy SEAL putting his life on the line to protect and serve his country. He loved his job and though he had officially left the Navy, he still accepted special assignments. That worried his mother, which he didn’t like, but it was his life. If he didn’t help fight everyone else’s battles, what good would he be?

“Heads up,” Linc said pulling into the driveway of the estate an hour later. “Camille’s got a bone to pick with you.”

“Camille? What did I do to her?”

Linc only shook his head laughing as he parked and stepped out of the truck. “Man, you just don’t know. Women don’t forget a thing.”

Trent stopped listening to Linc’s warning as they walked into the house. He was happy to be back in Vegas but there were some things he could do without.



Tia St. Claire’s head pounded with what she knew would be a hellacious headache. She realized it was because the two-year “anniversary” of her accident was fast approaching. She couldn’t help but count down these last dreaded days.

Last year at this time she’d been working, doing a runway show in Paris one night, then flying to Milan for one there and then coming back to L.A. for a photo shoot. In between she’d done promo shots to update her portfolio and met with her agent. She’d worked from January first straight through and past March second, the day of the accident. That had been the only way to cope with the pain—and using the jet lag as an excuse to sleep every hour that she wasn’t modeling.

This year she was working again, but she wasn’t traveling back and forth. And whenever she wasn’t in front of the camera she was feeling the pain.

When she was finally alone in her apartment she slumped down into the nearest chair. With the backs of her hands she wiped her face clean only to have warm tears slip from her eyes again.

It wasn’t her fault, she knew that. Jake had been driving and she’d been in the passenger seat. As if it were yesterday she heard the squeal of the tires, felt the uncontrollable spin of the car, the lurch of her heart in the precise moment the car slid into the tree. In an instant the two people that she loved most were gone—her fiancé, Jake, and their unborn daughter, Jessica.

Her life was spared although she had no idea why. Work was her only solace.

At least it had been.

She’d been modeling for so long that it was almost like breathing. So even though the photo shoots were normally filled with photographers, hairstylists, designers and the other people who just always seemed to be around either backstage or in the studio, Tia would usually sink into herself.

While her body moved, her mind functioned on autopilot and her thoughts and feelings were her own. That may seem weird to a novice but, for her, even walking down the runway provided solace to her tortured soul. The crowds were blurred out so that all she saw was the darkness, the same darkness that had engulfed the ones she’d loved. When she was on the runway, she was with Jake and Jessica.

Camille Davis was the phenomenal woman behind CK Davis Designs. Tia had been ecstatic when her agent had booked her for their fall fashion show. From there Camille had specifically requested her for other assignments until the bulk of Tia’s time was now spent working for Camille and modeling her fabulous designs.

That, of course, was not the bad part. The irony came when Camille had introduced Tia to Adam and the rest of the Donovan family. They were a lively bunch with the seniors, Henry and Beverly, still madly in love after years of marriage. Jade and Linc were almost sickening to watch together, their happiness pouring from them in heavy waves. Then there was Camille herself and the infamous Adam Donovan. Their love was pure, of the fairy-tale type, the kind that little girls dreamed of.

Soon after they’d met, Camille had shared the story of how Adam had swept her off her feet like her very own Prince Charming, helping her to defeat her wicked stepmother and all. The love between the two of them was more than crystal clear, the fantasy, for them, more than real.

The dream Tia had once had.

The entire clan and their happiness exacerbated the fact that Tia was alone. She’d chosen to be alone, that was true, but she’d never felt its impact like she did these days. Once upon a time she’d wanted a husband and a family and that dream had quickly come crashing down, so it was her firm belief that those things were not meant for her. But every once in a while…

“Stop it,” she berated herself and moved to the minirefrigerator. Yanking it open she retrieved a bottled water and unscrewed the top. She took three big gulps, then added a deep breath and felt herself calming considerably.

Tia really didn’t begrudge the Donovans their happiness and she genuinely liked them all, well, she liked the majority of them.

The Donovans were a very reputable family in Las Vegas. Henry and Beverly Donovan both came from old money, circling back to oil rigs in Texas and global financiers. Now the retirees spent the majority of their time either traveling or promoting various charities and organizations that focused on topical issues such as health care for all, pediatric HIV/AIDS victims and domestic violence.

The family was well-known throughout the U.S., which made them and their offspring fair game to the media circus.

He was another matter all together.

Trenton Donovan, the middle child and last of the Triple Threat Donovan Brothers, at least that’s what the papers called him. To Tia, he was just an arrogant pain in the ass.

He’d gotten her number from Camille and called Tia for two weeks straight after they’d had to model together in a charity fashion show last fall. Tia would readily admit that the man was fine. Hell, he was beyond fine. Tall, way over six feet, built like two average men combined to make one superhero-like body and a face that would make a woman wet just looking at him.

His skin was a soft mocha tone, his eyes dark and ominous. Not normally a woman fascinated by the facial features of a man, Tia had, however, committed Trent’s features to memory. He was clean shaven, unlike his brothers. That should have given him a boyish look; instead, it enhanced his dangerous aura. A sharp chin and firm mouth made him always appear serious. His no-nonsense way of talking said he meant business all the time.

And Tia couldn’t stand him.

She’d finally called him back after growing tired of his phone messages.

“I’m calling to inform you that stalking is punishable by jail time,” she’d said the moment he answered the phone.

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” he’d said, his voice sending a shiver down her spine.

Tia had tried like hell to keep her resolve. “If I wanted you to call me I would have given you my number. On second thought, if you wanted to call me you probably should have asked for my number instead of getting it from someone else.”

“Wait a minute, are you upset about something?”

“Upset? That’s an understatement. Normally a man asks my name and then asks for my number. I don’t recall you doing, either.”

“My soon-to-be sister-in-law is Camille Davis. She told me your name. And you were so busy with your little fan club at the party after the fashion show, I didn’t get a chance to ask you anything.”

She sighed deeply. “Be that as it may, I don’t appreciate your uninvited phone calls. I want them to stop.”

He’d grown silent and for a moment she thought he may have hung up on her.

But then he spoke again. “Why don’t you take a minute to calm down and we’ll start this conversation all over again.”

“Why don’t you get over yourself? Every woman is not ready to fall at your feet, nor are they excited by your initiative to get to know them better. And for the record, I’m one of them.”

“Hold on a second. All I did was call to ask you out to dinner.”

“And I just happened to be that woman? This week? I know how you work and I’m not buying it, so you can just find yourself another flavor of the month. As a matter of fact, did I ask you to call? Did I give you permission to call?”

“No, but—”

She cut him off. “Then I’d advise you not to call me anymore. It’s as simple as that!”

Now, three months later, replaying the conversation in her head, she wondered if she had been a bit harsh. That wasn’t normally her nature, but she didn’t care. Trent Donovan was definitely used to getting what he wanted from women. And from the persistence in his voice on her answering machine she knew exactly what he wanted from her. Too bad he wasn’t going to get it.

That last statement was easier for her to say than actually believe. Especially since she hadn’t stopped thinking about him since the night of the fashion show. He was attractive, but that was an understatement—he was a Donovan after all. And while she normally wasn’t that focused on what was going on around her as she worked, the moment he’d touched her she’d been more than aware of his presence. It had begun as a slow burn then moved through her until it was a full-blown tornado storming through her, demanding her attention.

Luckily the after party was crowded, affording her the perfect opportunity to put distance between herself and the renowned Mr. Donovan. She had no other choice. Tia had learned her lesson: it was much better to be safe than sorry.




Chapter 2


“Whatever you said to her it couldn’t have been nice because the next day when I mentioned your name she almost bit my head off.” Camille Davis sat in a high-backed chair near the book shelf in the den of the Donovan estate.

Trent had been back at his childhood home for less than an hour and was already being chewed out by his brother’s fiancée. He liked Camille. She’d had a rough childhood and a witch of a stepmother. Her Hollywood producer father had died and through her grief she’d managed to grow up, attend college and build her own fashion empire.

Now she was engaged to Adam, his younger brother. Trent never thought Adam would get married. Then again, none of his brothers were supposed to get married. But ever since Linc had copped out and proposed to Jade, the Triple Threat Brothers had been in trouble.

It was up to Trent to stick to his guns. He didn’t trust women, that was number one. And there were more than a few that had proven his nontrust theory—Adam’s ex Kim, who had teamed up with Camille’s stepmother to break them up, undoubtedly came to mind.

No, Trent liked the company of women on a temporary basis. Anything beyond that was out of the question. Besides, he lived a dangerous life. One that worried his family constantly. Trent wasn’t about to put a wife and kids through that same ordeal.

“Hey, she’s the one who called me ranting and raving about rudeness and uninvited calls. I barely got a word in before she hung up on me,” he said defending his three-month old conversation with Tia St. Claire. It didn’t help that each time he saw a magazine cover or a CK Davis ad, it was Tia’s face that was smiling back at him.

“You were probably your normal arrogant self,” Camille quipped, then shook her head. “I should have never given you her number.”

“Whose?” Adam said coming to stand next to Camille.

Trent frowned as he watched his brother’s hand find Camille’s shoulder. Camille looked up at him and smiled. Their gazes locked as if they hadn’t seen each other in weeks. This was just the type of sappy crap he didn’t have time for.

“Tia St. Claire,” Camille answered.

“You’re still after her? It’s been months since the show. If you haven’t hooked up with her yet it might be time to let it go.”

Linc came up from behind Trent clapping him on his shoulder before he could respond to Adam’s remark. “What’s the matter? You losing your touch, bro?”

Trent gave them both a scowl. “Hell no, I’m not losing my touch. I called her a couple of times and when she called back she was a royal—”

“Don’t you dare call her out of her name,” Camille admonished.

She was small and a little on the shy side, but man, she could reprimand him with a tongue-lashing as swift as his mother. That was only one of the things Trent liked about her.

“She was not a nice lady,” he corrected and looked to Camille with a smirk for her approval. She smiled in return.

“I haven’t talked to her since then,” he finished.

“That’s probably because it sounds like she doesn’t want to have anything to do with you,” Linc’s wife, Jade, smirked, happily munching on a bowl of grapes as she sat, feet propped up, on the chaise lounge.

Trent didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking. His brothers accusing him of losing his touch and his sisters-in-law claiming a victory for womankind. “Look, nothing happened between us which was probably for the best. It’s over.”

“Well, she’s still pissed,” Camille said.

Trent shrugged. “That’s her problem.” He went to the bar to fix himself a drink.

“It doesn’t matter. Trent’s been all the way to the East Coast breaking hearts. He can’t possibly have time to worry about the ones he left here.” Linc chuckled as he sat next to his wife, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

“Oh my, tell me it’s not so.” Camille sighed. “You were supposed to be working in Connecticut, not screwing.”

At her last words everyone in the room looked in her direction. Camille Davis did not talk like that. Adam must really be rubbing off on her.

“I wasn’t ‘screwing’ as you put it. I was helping a friend with a case.”

“Right. Sam’s case?” Adam said. “I remember him from last year when he came to visit you. Mom told me that’s where you went.”

“Sam’s sister was the one Trent got with,” Linc offered happily.

Trent tossed him a heated glare. “Her name was Lynn.”

“And did you sleep with this Lynn?” Jade asked.

Jade was a pretty woman and now that she was pregnant her beauty had magnified. Her hazel eyes beamed while auburn curls hung just past her shoulders. And she made his brother Linc happier than Trent had ever seen him.

“I don’t have to tell you people all the details of my sex life. Just know that Lynn and I are both adults. Whatever went down with us was absolutely consensual.”

“He screwed her,” Adam said looking across the room at Trent with a huge grin.

“You guys really need to get a life,” Trent said before downing his drink.



Camille had asked Tia to meet her in her office after they’d gone over the proofs of last week’s pictures, and as badly as Tia had wanted to beg off, she now found herself front and center with Camille, standing near one of the curtainless windows.

Tia now searched for a good enough reason to turn her boss and new friend down. For as much as she liked Camille, liked working for her, as well as spending time with her, she did not want to go to a party at the house she and Adam Donovan shared.

No Donovan party, anywhere.

It was too close to all the things that rubbed her the wrong way. All the little memories of the life she almost had were just too much to bear. It wasn’t Camille’s fault she’d found a great man to love her. And it wasn’t Jade’s fault that she and Linc had found each other after all those years, had gotten married and were now expecting twins. Just like it wasn’t her fault that Jake and Jessica had died.

Blame was a useless emotion. She’d learned that well after the accident. But grief, it stayed with you no matter what. Weighing like a rope of bricks wrapped securely around her neck. And no matter how many assignments she took to keep her mind off it, grief held her down at every opportunity.

“It’s a big night for both of us, Tia. I need you to be there,” Camille continued pleading her case.

Dana, Camille’s best friend and business partner, was sitting at her desk, trying not to gloat over all the orders that had come in, but offered her two cents readily. “In the last three months you’ve become the face of CK Davis Designs. We’re opening our very first store so it’s only logical—and expected—that you would be there.”

“Ganging up on me is not going to work,” Tia hissed.

“You’re right,” Dana agreed. “Oh, did I mention that if you don’t show you’re fired?”

Camille grinned. “Yep. It’s part of your contract.”

“That’s a lie,” Tia quipped. “Look, there’s a really a good reason why I don’t want to go.”

“You don’t want to run into Trent Donovan. We already know you despise him. Besides, he probably won’t even be there,” Dana said.

“I do not despise him,” Tia argued.

“At any rate, Dana’s right, he probably won’t be there.”

Probably? “I thought you said a while back he was out of town?” Tia said before she could stop herself.

Dana smiled sweetly. “Keeping tabs on him, are we?”

“No. Of course not. My reasons for not coming to the party don’t have anything to do with Trent. It’s something personal.”

Camille touched Tia’s hand. “Okay. I can respect that. But I’d really like you to be there. Just for a little while. Then you can go back to your lonely little apartment.”

Tia hated when Camille referred to her home as a lonely little apartment. The fact that her assessment wasn’t far off the mark could be the reason. With the money she was making she could afford to buy herself a house. But that said permanency, it said planting roots and family…and all the things she’d had and lost.

“All right, I’ll come. But I’m not staying long.”

“Great!” Camille got up from her seat hugging Tia enthusiastically.

Tia could do nothing but hug her back. Besides she didn’t get hugs often and this one felt genuine, like there was someone finally there for her.

Shaking her head she dismissed that notion. She didn’t have close friends because she didn’t want the connection. The more people in her life that she loved, the harder it would be if she lost them. Her only family, her parents, were still alive and living in Phoenix. That was enough anticipated heartache for her to carry.

Still, she couldn’t help but like Camille. Just like she couldn’t help but see the way Camille always looked at her, as if they shared a deep, dark secret. But that was impossible. Camille had no way of knowing what had happened to her two years ago and Tia had no intention of ever telling her.

“Do me a favor,” Camille said finally releasing her. “Wear the black sheath. I have a great choker to go with it. Don’t worry about driving, I’ll send a car for you so you can get to the house a little early. I want the necklace on you before the paparazzi arrives.”

“Sure. Why not? I have nothing else to do,” she said dismally then mustered up a smile when Camille gave her another sympathetic look.

Before Camille could say another word Tia bent down, scooped up her purse and headed for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

Tia was out the door and on the elevator before she released the breath she held. Slipups like that would only make things worse. She wasn’t depressed and she didn’t need anybody’s pity, despite what her mother thought. She was coping with her loss in her own way and it was working just fine.



“What is up with her?” Dana asked when Tia had closed the door behind her.

Camille continued to stare at the spot where Tia St. Claire had stood. She was a beautiful woman, tall, thin and oozing sex appeal. All attributes most women would die for, yet she wore them more like a burden then a badge.

Tia was a fantastic model, whether runway or in print. She enhanced CK Davis Design’s couture line and added a simple flair to the casual, ready-to-wear line. She was easy to work with and a pleasure to be around. But, Camille thought with a pang in her chest, Tia was the saddest person she’d ever met.

“I don’t know. But I’ve got a feeling it’s only a matter of time before it comes out.”

“You think she’s hiding something?”

“I know she is.”

Dana sat back in her chair and finally turned to Camille.

“Do you think it’s something that will hurt the company? Because if so we should probably cut our losses now.”

Leave it to Dana to be concerned with business first. That’s why they were partners, Dana dealt with all the unsavory stuff while Camille worked her personable magic as frequently as possible.

Where Tia was concerned, Camille was almost positive Dana’s way of thinking wasn’t necessary.

She shook her head negatively. “Whatever it is, it’s hurting her more than it could possibly hurt anyone else. Just leave her to me. I’ll take care of it.”

“Suit yourself,” Dana quipped. “But if it starts to go bad, I’m axing her. We’ve worked too hard to have a model’s baggage bring us down.”

“Tia will be fine. I’ve got a sinking feeling we’re going to end up helping her much more than she’s helping us.”




Chapter 3


Trent couldn’t believe it. After three months away and being with other women, Tia still had his blood pumping when she entered a room.

Sipping on a rum and coke, he watched Tia St. Claire walk into Adam and Camille’s home like a lion eyeing his prey. Earlier today he’d had a fleeting thought that she might show up tonight. CK Davis Designs new store would definitely open more doors for her as their top model, so of course she would come.

For him, it was once again about family. He was as proud of Camille and her company as if she were his blood sister. And he knew what it meant for Adam to see his fiancée finally happy with herself and her accomplishments. So he was here to show his support.

But with every step Tia took, every time her long honey-toned leg slipped through that sinful split up the left side of her dress, his hunger for Tia St. Claire grew.

Her hair was braided this time. It had been loose and curled when he’d last seen her. But the array of tiny braids in a mixture of gold and brownish tint pulled up into a neat bun showcasing her long, sensuous neckline was just as alluring. Somebody spoke to her and she smiled. Trent’s chest constricted.

Her eyes, the color of warm honey, cased the room as she moved slowly, tentatively through the crowd. Her dress, the wicked creation he knew had to be one of Camille’s designs, was black and held up by two tiny straps at the cap of her shoulders. Her breasts were high and looked full enough to fit his hands just perfectly. The seductive way she was walking had to be a crime in at least ten states. He was getting hard just looking at her move.

Usually his attraction to a woman was a slow simmer, edging him along until he was finally in her bed. But each time he saw Tia, his need for her burned instantly, intensely.

Camille entered and moved quickly to Tia. Tia turned giving Trent a full view of the back of the deadly dress, or should he say the lack of dress. In about two seconds he took in the fact that those small straps at her shoulders draped down the sides of her back, leaving what looked like miles and miles of titillating bronze skin open for all to see. The black material met again in a gentle gathering at the base of her back.

Trent almost groaned out loud. Instead, he emptied his glass and was turning to head straight to the bar for a refill when he bumped into Adam.

“She looks great, doesn’t she?” his younger brother said with a grin on his face as broad as a Cheshire cat’s.

Trent cleared his throat and took a step back. “Yeah. Camille’s as pretty as a picture. I’m proud of your good taste, little bro.”

He circled around Adam making a beeline for the bar. Unfortunately, Adam had decided to follow him.

“I wasn’t talking about Camille. But thanks anyway.”

Trent shook his head. He was not about to get into this with Adam. He knew exactly where his brother’s joking tone was leading. “The boutique’s going to be a big hit,” Trent said when they’d made it to the bar and he’d given his glass to the bartender with a nod for a refill.

“Yeah,” Adam agreed.

“Is that all you’re going to say tonight?” Trent asked with agitation.

Adam simply chuckled. “She’s doing one amazing number on you.”

“What? Who?” Even to Trent’s own ears the feigned innocence was unbelievable.

“You know who. Why don’t you just go and talk to her?”

Trent shook his head. “No. The last thing I want for Camille tonight is a shouting match between me and her top model.”

“Then don’t shout at her.”

“Me?” he asked touching a hand to his chest as if offended. “She’s the one that called, cursing me out.”

“You were being pushy and presumptuous with her. You should probably apologize.”

“‘Pushy and presumptuous’? If that doesn’t sound like some female crap. You’ve been talking to Camille way too much.”

“Nah,” Adam said taking a glass of champagne from the tray one of the hostesses was carrying around. “I just see what she was saying. You come on to women really strong, Trent. And Tia strikes me as being different from the females you usually try to push up on.”

“How? She’s attractive and available just like the others,” Trent quipped.

Adam chuckled. “For one, she’s not falling all over you. I know you, you’re used to women dying to meet the great Trent Donovan.”

“Man, you know I don’t even fall for that act. It’s not me they’re trying to meet, more like my wallet they’re trying to get hold of.”

“But you still like the attention. And she’s the first woman to put you in your place right off the bat. She’s got guts and intelligence. Not normally two traits you look for in a woman.”

Trent thought about rebutting that statement but could only ask, “Whose side are you on? I mean, I know you’re in love and about to get married and all that, but you were once where I am. When you saw something you wanted, you just went after it. We’re Donovans, that’s what we do.”

“Until the right woman comes along and makes you rethink what we do,” Adam said simply, his gaze crossing the room to where Camille stood.

Trent took a quick gulp of the drink the bartender had just given him. “See, I’m not even looking for that commitment you and Linc seem so happy to jump into these days. I was just trying for a good time with Tia. But if Miss Supermodel isn’t interested then so be it.”

Adam shook his head and began to walk away. Then he stopped and turned back to Trent. “I’ll bet you five dollars you can’t stay away from her all night.”

“I don’t gamble,” Trent said seriously.

“No. You don’t give up.” With that said Adam went to stand by Camille, kissing her on her cheek as he glanced back across the room issuing a silent challenge to Trent.



She’d seen him and her stomach had done an immediate somersault. Yet Tia had refused to cower. His eyes were on her, hot and persistent, searing into every exposed inch of her skin. But she held her smile in place, moving and talking with people as if he weren’t even in the room.

Which proved to be totally unsuccessful.

Even now Camille was saying something, the ever handsome and charming Adam right by her side, and Tia had no idea what she was talking about. Her back was to Trent but he was still watching her. She could feel it in every pore of her body.

“That choker is exquisite with the dress, Tia. Now, since this is just the preamble to the big launch party I’ve only invited a few top reporters. There’s maybe one or two photographers moving about. So if you could make the rounds I’m sure they’ll see you.”

Tia’s hand shook as she reached for a glass of champagne. She prayed nobody saw it; however, the hostess, who was about two inches shorter than her, smiled knowingly. Suddenly very thirsty, Tia lifted the glass to her lips and emptied the contents, the champagne leaving a tingling trail of chilliness down her throat.

“Hey? You okay?” Camille asked touching a hand to her wrist as she brought the empty glass away from her lips.

“I’m fine,” Tia said trying to clear her head. If she thought of tonight as work she could probably make it through. If she didn’t let herself remember that in just a couple of hours the anniversary date and time of the worst moment of her life would be upon her, she would be all right.

But then she heard his voice.

“She certainly is fine.”

Oh God. Who am I fooling? I’m not going to make it. Trent Donovan was not going to let her get through this night unscathed. She could hear it in his voice even before she turned to look at him.

“Trent, I’m sure you remember my top model, Tia St. Claire,” Camille said in a tight voice that dared Trent to misbehave.

That left Tia to wonder if she had recently been the topic of conversation in the Donovan household.

“How could I ever forget her?” He reached for her then, surprising her when he only took the empty glass out of her hand.

To her dismay, another hostess miraculously appeared and he disposed of the glass. Turning back to her, Trent took her hand in his. It was a move that looked practiced and smooth as hell all at the same time. Damn, she hated this man.

“How have you been, Tia?”

Okay, first he needed to stop touching her. Even the gentle feel of her hand in his and the thumb he caressed over her long, tapering fingers, was too much for her already quivering insides to take.

“I’ve been just fine. And you?” Her voice was steady even if the rest of her wasn’t. And she didn’t yank her hand out of his no matter how much she wanted to.

As Camille had said, reporters and photographers were here. She couldn’t make a scene. The way Trent was looking at her said he’d figured that out before approaching her.

“I’ve been better.”

I’ll just bet you have. “That’s nice. Now if you will all excuse me, I think I’ll make my rounds now.”

“That’s a good idea,” Camille chimed in. “Isn’t it, Adam?”

Adam cleared his throat after Camille elbowed him in the ribs. “Ah, yeah. Good idea. How about I escort you out onto the terrace? I think Nigella from the Chronicle is out there soaking up the breeze.”

Tia gladly accepted Adam’s invitation but didn’t miss the heated glare that passed between the two brothers as she did so. Refusing to even look back at Trent she made a hasty, but classy, retreat.

“Whatever you’re thinking I want you to get it out of your mind right this minute,” Camille said to Trent when they were alone.

“Why does everybody insist on treating me like I’m the bad guy?”

“Um, because you’re military trained to take no prisoners.”

Trent had to smile at that one. “She’s a grown woman, Camille. You don’t have to protect her. Especially not from me.”

“I especially need to protect her from you.”



Two hours and about six glasses of champagne later Tia was draped over a lounge chair in one of the back rooms of Camille’s house. She’d made her rounds speaking to reporters and buyers making sure they all knew that she was wearing a CK Davis exclusive, taken pictures, smiled non-stop and modeled back and forth through the large living and dining rooms.

Her head pounded and her feet hurt. She was exhausted and she was afraid. About a half hour ago she’d stopped looking at the clock. She knew the time was ticking down. That’s why she’d searched out a place to be alone. If she were going to have a breakdown she didn’t need any of the press seeing it. Hell, she didn’t need any of the Donovans seeing it.

So for the past fifteen minutes she’d been sitting here in the dark, trying to get her brain out of its champagne-induced haze so she could drive herself back to her apartment. There she could fall flat on her face and let the grief claim her the way it begged to.

She was almost ready to get up when a stream of light invaded her sacred darkness. With an inhale of an intoxicatingly masculine cologne she knew her night had just taken another turn for the worse.

“Hiding out?” Trent asked as he closed the door and switched on a lamp.

Tia pressed her palms into her eyes, praying that when she moved them the pinpricks against her lids would cease. “I’m trying to be alone, if you don’t mind.”

“I’m looking for some company,” he said slowly. “If you don’t mind.”

Furious at his audacity Tia pulled her hands away from her face and gasped when she realized he was standing directly over her. “Yes. I mind. I’m sure you can find someone to keep you company out there. Lord knows there are plenty of women dying to catch your attention.”

“Jealous?” he asked in that cool yet firm voice of his.

“Hell, no! If they want to make fools of themselves for you, they are more than welcome.”

Even though she expected him to, Trent didn’t respond. He only watched her as if he were seeing something nobody else did. She turned away from him, only to have him grab her chin and turn her back to face him.

“Are you okay?”

“I will be if you’d leave.”

“You look sick.”

“I am. Sick and tired of being harassed by you.”

“You’re drunk,” he stated flatly.

“I am not.”

“I’ll take you home.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

And before she could say another word he was scooping her up off the chair. His strong arms cradled her against his chest.

Why did it have to feel so good? In the midst of all that was bad in her life, why did the touch of this man feel so damn good?

“I don’t need you,” she said in a small voice trying to hold her head up and not scream against the building pain.

He stopped walking at her words, peering down at her with an indescribable expression. Oh no, it was describable all right. It was a mixture of hunger and danger—a deadly mix, she knew, where Trent Donovan was concerned.

She opened her mouth to tell him to put her down, that she would get Adam or someone else to take her home. But the words died in her throat as his lips touched hers. Heat speared through her body at the contact.

This was no sweet just-get-to-know-you kiss. It was fierce, hot, demanding, stealing. Taking from her all that she’d had pent up for days, no months, or more like years.

She hated kissing. It was too intimate, touching parts of her she’d rather keep reserved. But again, this was no normal kiss. It was a fierce, blistering request—no, demand. Its lustful intent was clear and swept through her senses in deep, flowing waves.

For months, since the night she’d first met him, Tia had dreamed of this, imagining how good it would feel and knowing how easy it would be to fall for this man. And as difficult as it had been, she’d kept her resolve, had refused to call him, to accept the attraction that had sizzled between them since that first touch of hands on the runway.

Now she was powerless, not just because of the amount of champagne she’d ingested, but because as long as his hands were on her, his lips, his tongue, she had no choice but to acquiesce.

His tongue pressed past her teeth searching for hers and claiming it with an arrogant swipe. Hungry and what felt like enraged, he took her mouth, deepening the kiss until all Tia could taste or even think was Trent Donovan.




Chapter 4


Trent turned his black Hummer H3 Alpha onto Redwood Street heading toward the apartment complex Tia had told him she lived in. She was in the passenger seat that he’d reclined for her just before strapping her in. Her eyes were closed and every now and then she would moan, causing him concern over whether she was in pain or whether the champagne was taking its toll and she was about to vomit. The latter wasn’t going to be a good thing, especially not in his new truck.

Still he couldn’t help again admiring her beauty. It wasn’t such a shock to him since her profession was dependent on her looks. But there was something simple and untouched about her smooth skin, high cheekbones and long eyelashes. As she lay with her eyes closed, not speaking, not fighting with him, he was touched by a rarely-seen innocence.

Pulling into the complex Trent frowned. The Sahara West Apartments located just within the Vegas city limits was not a bad complex. Actually, it was a rather nice one, but Tia was making enough money that she clearly could have done better. He parked and went around to the passenger side, opening the door for her.

She hadn’t moved so he undid her seat belt and was bending over to lift her once more into his arms when she stirred.

“You don’t have to keep carrying me. I can walk,” she said slowly.

She was attempting to open her eyes, which didn’t look like an easy feat. Yet her speech wasn’t slurred. Trent was beginning to think that something else was bothering her, that this wasn’t just a result of too much champagne.

“I like the feel of you in my arms,” he said as he lifted her out of the truck. The words came out sincerely, intentionally. Trent was a man who knew what he wanted and didn’t hesitate going for it. His actions all had a purpose that he carefully worked out in his mind ahead of time.

So when she cuddled against him while he used his hip to close the door he knew the words had done what they were supposed to.

At the door of her apartment he put her down, slowly propping her against the wall. His hands lingered on her hips just to make sure she was steady. And she was, but still he didn’t move his hands. He liked touching her. She smelled good, too, like brown sugar and honey.

Her eyes opened easily as she looked up at him. Trent brushed his lips lightly over hers. She kept her eyes on him as if she wanted him to know that she was fully aware of what he was doing.

Struck by a swift slice of guilt at taking advantage of a woman when she wasn’t completely herself, Trent stepped away. “Where’s your key?”

Tia didn’t speak but reached into her small purse and retrieved the key. She tried to step around him to get to the door but he lifted the key from her hand slipping it into the door and pushing it open. Stepping to the side he let her enter first, then followed and closed the door behind them.

She switched on a lamp that shed only a small amount of light. The living room area was actually small but appeared spacious since she had only a couch, a glass coffee table and a big-screen television on the wall opposite the patio door. In a corner to the left was what Trent assumed was her dining room. There was a counter-height table and two chairs. To say that her furnishings were sparse was an understatement.

“Thank you for seeing me home,” she said in a quiet voice.

She’d crossed the room to sit on the couch. Trent hadn’t even known she’d moved she’d been so quiet and he’d been so absorbed in checking out her place. “No problem.”

In the dim light she looked frail and tired. He moved toward the couch intending to simply see that she was okay and say good-night. But once he was that close to her he couldn’t resist. He sat down next to her taking her hand in his. “Are you sure you’re all right, Tia?”

She nodded then looked away from him quickly. That was a definite sign that she was not okay. It was also a sign for Trent to get the hell out of there. He didn’t do pity parties and he definitely didn’t do emotional females. If she had something going on that was outside of being intoxicated or that didn’t require him to hunt down and possibly shoot someone, he couldn’t help.

“Is there someone you’d like me to call?” he asked already moving away from her.

“No,” she whispered. “There’s no one who can fix this.”

Yeah, that was his cue if he’d ever had one. “Okay. Well, I’ll leave you alone.”

He was about to stand up when she grabbed his wrist and said, “No. Please stay.”

In his lifetime Trent had heard more than his share of women saying those exact words. But none of them caused his chest to tighten the way Tia’s did. There was something in her eyes, an almost desperation that didn’t match her usual snippy attitude.

He sat back in the chair. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, knowing he didn’t want to hear about whatever it was that had her looking so shaky—especially if it was about another man.

Trent didn’t normally consider himself the jealous type. There were more than enough women in this world for all the men to have their share. So he definitely wasn’t one to hate another man for having a fine woman on his arm. But he’d be lying if he said the idea of Tia with some another guy didn’t rub him the wrong way.

“No. I don’t want to talk,” she said letting her hand rest on his thigh.



It was wrong, Tia knew. But in less than fifteen minutes it would be midnight. The exact time two years ago that Jake had been bleeding beside her, Jessica dying inside of her.

However, this year she wasn’t alone. Trent had brought her home. He’d walked her inside and he was still here. She didn’t have to be alone if she didn’t choose to be. She could be with Trent and this pain wouldn’t seem so bad. He wanted her; he’d made that no secret. So why couldn’t she have him? Just for this one night?

Taking another deep breath she inched her hand up his thigh, closer to his groin, and leaned into him. “Do you really want to leave me, Trent?”

He hesitated and for a moment she was afraid he was going to say yes. Instead his hand covered hers on his thigh. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

Tia broke eye contact because the longer he stared at her the guiltier she felt. She leaned closer kissing his neck. “I’m not drunk if that’s what you think.”

His hand tightened on hers but he didn’t push her away. That was a good sign.

“You’re not drunk but you’re definitely not yourself.”

God, he smelled good, strong and virile, if that had a scent. She inhaled deeply, then let her tongue slide along the line of his neck. “I’m tired of being myself,” she said.

And that was the God’s honest truth. Tia was so tired of being about business, of getting up every day, moving along as if she hadn’t a care in the world, when inside she was falling apart.

Trent said she felt good in his arms; well, it had felt good to be in his arms. Damn good. And she wanted to hold on to that feeling, at least for tonight. As if he’d read her mind he shifted, wrapping his free arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

“What do you want, Tia?” he asked in a voice that she was sure had grown hoarse.

Tia stopped kissing his neck. Her heart hammered against her chest. With the hand that had accompanied hers on his knee Trent grabbed her chin, tilting her head until he could once again look into her eyes.

“Tell me what you want from me. Because I’m not going to do anything that you aren’t completely on board with. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

She did. He wanted her to be sure that she knew whom she was with and what she was doing with him.

Tia didn’t have a doubt in her mind.

She was with Trent Donovan. The man that had driven her crazy with lustful thoughts these past few months and scared her witless with his intensity. She wanted him to make love to her tonight, to wash away the painful memories and to satisfy her quaking need.

“I want you in my bed, tonight,” she said without further hesitation. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

He stood then, picking her up so that her legs wrapped around his waist. His lips crashed down over hers, his tongue plundering hers with deep thrusts and smooth strokes. His hands cupped her bottom, gripping each mound with the promise of more to come. Tia instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck pressing her aching center into him, wanting more, needing it all.

She felt him move, turn in the opposite direction, but his hands were now pushing her dress up farther until he touched the bare flesh of her bottom, skimming the thin wisp of her thong. Her entire body shivered at the brief contact, she sighed and nipped his bottom lip.

“Which way?” he rasped.

Tia couldn’t speak but pointed toward the bedroom.



Trent’s mind roared with lustful thoughts of how he would take her, claim her, make her his for tonight. He’d thought of this often, each time changing their positions, their words. He wanted her with a desperation he’d never felt before and was more than excited at the notion that he was about to have her. Finally.

She’d unwrapped those sinfully long legs from around him the minute they were in her bedroom. Pushing the straps of her dress down she’d stood still as it fell to the floor. His mouth had literally gone dry at the sight of her in nothing but a black thong, garter belt, silk stockings and heels. The dark color only highlighted her light complexion. The sight of her stroked Trent’s skin like a whisper over his rigid sex.

“Come here,” he commanded and waited while she walked toward him.

Taking both her beautiful breasts in his hands he squeezed and closed his eyes. How many times had he imagined this? The weight of each globe, the texture of each extended nipple grazing his palms. He bent forward massaging each breast until the nipples puckered between his fingers, then licked them one after the other. She grabbed the back of his head, holding him in place and Trent’s senses blurred.

If there was one thing he loved, it was a woman who knew what pleased her. Obviously having her breasts licked pleased Tia. So he continued until she was practically begging him for more.

He moved away from her because control was another one of his pet peeves. She’d told him what she wanted and he had every intention of giving it to her, but on his terms.

He’d removed his suit jacket in the truck so his fingers went instantly to the buttons of his shirt. When she reached out to help him, he pushed her hands away. “No.”

She’d tilted her head as if she were going to question him, then instead moved her hands over her stomach, up, until she was cupping each breast similarly to how he’d just done.

Trent was so hard at the sight of her touching herself that he had to clench his teeth to keep from yelling out. Methodically he undressed in front of her watching her fingers move over her pretty nipples.

Before tossing his pants Trent removed his wallet, retrieving two condoms. With protection in hand he reached for Tia and was momentarily startled when she moved away. Looking at her in question he watched as she went around to the other side of the bed, sat and attempted to take off her shoes.

“No,” he said quickly. “Leave them on.”

Trent was on the bed now, dropping the condoms near one pillow and grabbing Tia around the waist pulling her to the center of the mattress.

The look she gave him was defiant and sexy as hell. Was there anything about this woman that didn’t turn him on?

She laced her fingers around the back of his head, then pulled him down for a kiss that had his sex jutting forward, leaking with prepleasure.

He’d planned to go slow, to seduce her, to leave his mark. But as her tongue moved inside his mouth that plan was quickly tossed out. Trent reached for one of the condoms, pulled his mouth away from hers long enough to rip it open with his teeth then was about to sheath himself when she took it out of his hand.

“Let me,” she said in a voice so sultry Trent swore he was going to have his release at that very moment.

The voice had only been a preamble to the torture. When she grabbed his length between her hands he’d sucked in a breath. She’d looked up at him with those startling alert eyes and had the audacity to smile as she stretched the latex over him.

Her fingers lingered as she licked her lips and Trent had to resist guiding her to pleasure him. Instead he gently pushed her back so that she was resting against the pillows. He lifted her legs up onto his shoulders, positioned himself between her thighs and said, “Hold on.”




Chapter 5


Tia did just that, grasping handfuls of the comforter between her fingers as Trent sank his length deeper and deeper inside of her.

Her eyes closed even though she’d wanted to watch him. If she could keep her focus on Trent, on the here and now, the past couldn’t hurt her. But as her lids fluttered and finally closed Tia realized the past wasn’t hurting her. Sure, her heart was heavy with the weight of what she’d lost two years ago. But her body was also filled with what she had right now.

And what she had was two hundred–plus pounds of gorgeously muscled, virile man who knew just the way to touch her, kiss her, stroke her. Tilting her head back against the pillows she felt her own teeth sinking into her bottom lip as Trent settled himself snugly inside of her.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

Her eyes flew open to find his face only inches from hers, his dark eyes boring into her.

“It’s just you and me, Tia. Tonight. Just you and me.”

His voice was stern and Tia nodded her head, acknowledging what he was saying to her even as he pulled out of her, sinking blissfully back into her heat.

Trent didn’t know what was going on in her mind but he’d be damned if she would think of anyone or anything else besides him tonight. If he had to use every ounce of sexual expertise he possessed he would make certain of that.

Leaning forward he kissed the corner of her lip she’d been biting down on, stroking his tongue over the plumped section before sucking it gently into his mouth. She moaned and he circled his hips, pressing her farther into the mattress. Her thighs tightened and clasped around his waist. He was trapped inside of her, not that he was complaining. His mouth was locked with hers, their tongues mating the same way as their sex.

That’s when he felt it. The first inkling of something different. Yes, this was Tia St. Claire he was making love to. And, yes, he’d already adjusted his mind to the fact that for some odd reason she was different from the other women he’d known. But this feeling, circling and swirling in his chest as he moved over her wasn’t explainable. And what Trent couldn’t explain he either ignored or pounded until his understanding was clear.

At this moment he didn’t feel like doing, either.

Instead he tore his mouth away from hers, then reached behind to uncurl her legs. Hooking the backs of each of her knees in the crook of his arms, he lifted them higher, until only the upper half of her body was on the bed. With quick thrusts he moved inside of her watching the sensual play of emotions on her face.

She was gorgeous, her small braids spread across the pillow like a golden halo. Her eyes were half closed, but the hazel orbs shone brightly with desire. Her lips were parted as she panted, lifting her hips to match his rhythm. As lovers went, Tia was scoring more than average marks with him. She matched his intensity and desire every step of the way, challenging him with a look, a shift of her hips, a touch of her hands.

Dammit, that feeling in his chest seemed to magnify with this position. He stopped mid-stroke, closing his eyes in an attempt to get his thoughts together.

And she reacted.

Lifting up from the bed she managed to slip her legs out of his grip so that she was sitting and he was kneeling. Her hands flattened on his chest and she applied pressure as if to tell him to lay down. Trent’s eyes opened, finding hers glaring at him in challenge.

“My turn,” she said before stroking her tongue over his lips.

Every sane thought ran directly to his erection, making it harder, more determined than ever to find its release. He was lying back now, without a word, smiling up at her as she situated herself above him. Her long legs held her steady as she gripped his sex leading him to her waiting cove. She lowered herself ever so slowly, taking in one excruciating inch at a time. Her braids cascaded over her shoulders in a sexy curtain. Trent lifted his hands grasping handfuls of her hair pushing it back from her face.

Her features were concentrated as she lowered farther and when their bodies touched and he was completely impaled in her she looked at him. “Ready?” she asked.

Trent shifted his hips, settling himself, then grinned. “Ready and waiting. Show me what you’ve got.”

And that she did. With what seemed to be choreographed movements she rotated her hips, lifted slightly upward, then came down over him repeatedly. Trent’s mind had gone blank several times as his fingers gripped her hips. With her head thrown back, her breasts jutting forward and moans slipping from her lips Tia rode him like a woman possessed.

Or a woman trying desperately to lose herself in the moment.

Trent continued to watch her, taking her movements and matching them with his own. When she stiffened above him he lifted up from the bed, driving his sex deeper into her while wrapping his arms securely around her back. When her release came she went limp in his arms, her forehead falling forward to rest on his shoulder.

Continuing to work himself inside of her, Trent found his own explosive relief and groaned as her fingernails pressed into the skin of his shoulders. They sat there a moment, both of them trying to catch their breath. Then she shifted, trying to get free of his grasp but he held firm.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” she said in a slightly irritated voice that just about shattered any thoughts of intimacy.

Trent released her because, after all, he wasn’t the cuddling sort of guy. The room grew instantly chilly as she slipped away from him and walked unashamedly naked across the floor to the bathroom. With a sigh Trent lay back on the bed wondering what the hell had just happened.

They’d had sex, that part he knew, and felt, as his breathing was just getting back to normal. But he was no fool. In fact, he was smarter than most people gave him credit for. Still, he admitted that it wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to know that something wasn’t totally right about what had just happened.

When Tia came back into the room Trent had already pulled the comforter and sheets down. He stood as she approached the bed, put her hair up and slipped on a nightgown, lifting her feet as she sat on the end, then he tucked her in, but that didn’t matter. He’d seen her gorgeous body naked. Now, no matter what she wore, he’d always have that picture emblazoned in his mind, just the way he liked it.

He was about to move away when she grabbed his wrist. “Are you leaving?” she asked.

Trent couldn’t help but frown. This woman was a bundle of contradictions. One minute she was feisty and telling him to get lost, the next she was cuddling in his arms and feeling on him seductively. She’d moaned and just about broke the skin on his back when she came then bit his head off when he tried to hold on to her afterwards. What the hell was up with that?

“I’m going to the bathroom,” he said when he should have told her yes he was leaving because he was getting tired of the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde act.

But as he moved into the bathroom Trent had a sinking suspicion that Tia had needed him tonight. Not “him” specifically but someone. She didn’t want to be alone—of that he was certain—and he wasn’t complaining about being the one to end up in bed with her.

Still he wondered as he wiped the warm washcloth over his face and down his chest, what was really going on with her.



Tia stepped onto the treadmill the next morning with one goal in mind: walk until her mind was completely clear. Of the anniversary. Of Jake and Jessica. And definitely of Trent Donovan.

When she’d left her apartment well before the crack of dawn this morning he’d been still asleep in her bed. He’d stayed with her all night, cradling her in his arms as if she were the most important thing in the world to him.

Which she knew was an out-and-out lie.

Trent Donovan didn’t give a rat’s ass about her. He’d wanted to sleep with her for months now and she’d given him that chance. In fact, he’d done her just as much of a favor by staying. She hadn’t wanted to be alone and if she’d had to choose a way to spend that most horrible night, she wasn’t about to complain about it being in Trent’s arms.

So she swiped at the sweat already beginning to bead on her forehead, pressed the button and walked a little faster. She had been in such a hurry to get out of her apartment without waking Trent that she’d forgotten her iPod so she had nothing else to occupy her mind. Not that music would have helped.

It was the morning after and instead of being curled up in her bed sobbing or even curled up in her bed with the mesmerizing Trent Donovan, she was here at the gym. She was losing her mind, that’s exactly what she was doing. Any other woman would be back at her apartment probably gearing up for another round of the most spine-tingling sex she’d ever experienced. But, no, not Tia.

It wasn’t worth it. He’d been there when she needed him and that was that. For all she cared Trent Donovan could move on to his next victim and she wouldn’t bat an eyelid.

From her bag on the floor Tia’s cell phone chirped. She did a running jump and leapt from the treadmill, almost tripping over the bag as she dug her hand inside to find the phone. Looking at the display, she rolled her eyes when she recognized the number.

“Hi, Camille,” she said as cheerfully and out of breath as possible. So much for not being pressed about Trent Donovan, she thought acknowledging her own disappointment that it wasn’t him calling.

“Thank God,” Camille sighed on the other end. “Where are you? I was so worried when you disappeared from the party last night. When you didn’t answer your home phone the ten times I called first thing this morning I began to panic.”

With one hand Tia reached into her bag for her towel. Wiping her forehead she cradled the cell phone between her ear and her shoulder. “Sorry. I should have told you I was leaving.” And I probably would have if your soon-to-be brother-in-law hadn’t carried me out the back door. As if he were rescuing her, Tia thought whimsically. Get real, she was not Camille and fairy tales were not on her agenda.

“What’s up? I didn’t have a shoot today, did I?” Tia was very professional, she kept an accurate schedule and regarded her date book like the Holy Bible.

“No. Nothing work related. I just wanted to make sure you were okay and to ask if you’d like to have lunch.”

“Ah, actually, I’ve got some errands to run today, Camille. So I’m going to have to pass.”

“Okay, well, if you change your mind just give me a call on my cell or come on over to the Donovan family estate around one. You remember where that is, right?”

Tia closed her eyes. Camille was just too nice to curse out. She wanted to be alone today, not at some family function for a family that didn’t belong to her. “Yes, I remember where it is.” They’d done a shoot at the swimming pool there a few weeks ago because Camille thought the intricate shape of the pool—it was shaped like the African continent and painted at the bottom to resemble the tribe that Henry Donovan descended from—would be a lovely backdrop for her Afrocentric collection. “But I really don’t think I’ll be able to make it.”

“That’s fine. But, Tia, I hope you’re not spending the day alone. You spend far too much time by yourself. You need to get out more.”

That wasn’t what Tia needed but she couldn’t very well tell Camille that. “I like being by myself,” she said instead.

Camille was quiet for a moment. “That used to work for me, too.”

Tia knew this was where the conversation would shift. Camille would go into how rough a time she’d had it when she was young and with her low self-esteem, thinking that Tia could relate to her. Which she could not since Tia never had self-esteem issues. What she had was a hardened resolve to never be hurt on the level she once was. The loss of a mate was one thing, but the loss of a child at the same time was something completely different.

Just the thought was sometimes unbearable for her. Her grief had festered, she knew. It was unhealthy as the psychiatrist she’d seen immediately after the accident had advised. But Tia didn’t give a damn. She’d developed a way to cope and that’s what she was doing. All work and no attachments. And she didn’t need her employer telling her any differently.

“Listen, Camille, I was in the middle of my workout. Thanks for checking up on me but I’m fine. I’ll talk to you on Monday,” she said, then disconnected before Camille could say another word. Because Tia was close to breaking down. If Camille had said another word about being alone Tia didn’t know that she could hold it in.

Being alone used to work for her, that’s what Camille had said. Well, it had worked just fine for Tia for almost two years. But if truth were told, these last two months had been different. Harder, it seemed, because there was a longing inside of her that did not want to be ignored. A longing that Tia feared would be her ultimate demise.




Chapter 6


He wasn’t upset.

He was pissed off!

Trent slammed the door of his truck and took long, angry strides towards the door to Madge’s Gym. The second the front door closed he’d bolted up in Tia’s bed. She hadn’t slammed the door. No, she’d closed it as quietly as she could manage. She’d probably forgotten that her alarm system beeped at the opening and closing of any doors with access in and out of the house. It was a good system, he’d noted when he’d seen the control panel near her front door last night.

She’d snuck out on him, the little minx. He thought she’d at least leave him a note, after all he was sleeping in her bed. But there was nothing. That was what pissed him off. It was rude not to say anything the morning after. And you would know because you do it all the time.

That was his brother Linc speaking, so Trent ignored that thought. But what he didn’t plan to ignore was the fact that she’d begged him to stay with her, then she’d run out. It had only taken one phone call to Joshua Landy, his SEAL teammate, to trace Tia’s license tag. Fifteen minutes later he’d received a call with the address to where the car was located. Thank God her car had a built-in GPS locator. Technology was an amazing tool if utilized correctly.

After swinging past his condo to shower and change clothes he quickly made his way to the gym to confront Ms. St. Claire.

It took him less than ten minutes to find her even though the club was crowded on a Sunday morning. She was straddling a bench, her long muscled legs tensing as she worked her upper body on an arm-press weight machine. Instinctively his eyes roamed her body, from her legs to her thighs, to the center he now knew to be hot and wet, and upward to her slim waistline and full breasts. It was there his gaze stopped, hesitated, then went red.

She was using the cable crossover but whatever her weights were they must have been a test to her usual strength because standing entirely too close to her was a Mr. Universe wannabe with long dreadlocked hair and a face that looked all too happy to be touching Tia’s arms.

Each time she pulled her arms in, Mr. Universe’s hands slid along the length from her shoulder to her wrist. When she expanded outwardly Mr. Universe opened his arms to do the same. The man was straddling the bench, as well, standing so close to Tia that they could actually kiss…That probably wasn’t the best scenario to pop into Trent’s mind because in no time he was moving across the room to approach them.

“Mornin’,” he said in a less than happy tone once he was close enough to them.

Mr. Universe looked over his shoulder. “What’s up? You need a trainer for the day? Check the board to see who’s not already assigned.”

At his sides Trent’s fists clenched. Did he look like he needed a personal trainer? His body was in perfect shape courtesy of the U.S. Navy and his current regimen that he’d learned in basic training. Nobody at Madge’s Gym could do what he did to keep his body up and he didn’t want them to. He also didn’t want them doing anything to Tia’s body.

“Trent? What are you doing here?” she asked with an accusatory tone that Trent ignored.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he replied tartly.

“And the answer would be obvious.” She lifted a brow then nodded at Mr. Universe who again touched her arms as she pulled the weights inward.

This guy must have a death wish, Trent thought. That was perfectly fine with him, he hadn’t had good hand-to-hand combat in quite some time. Then it hit him that they were in a room full of other people trying to get their workout on. Trent, being one of the infamous Triple Threat Donovans, did not want any more attention than was absolutely necessary. So he reined in his temper as best as he could, and said, “I’d like to speak with you alone, Tia.”

Her arms jerked backward and the weights slammed down to the ground. Mr. Universe turned to him with a definite scowl.

“Look, man, she’s only got ten more reps to go then you can say whatever it is you need to say to her. But for right now you need to back off.”

Trent felt the tension and welcomed the rage, taking a step closer to Mr. Universe and grabbing him by the back of his muscled neck. “I’m not your man. And if anybody’s going to be backing off, for your sake and for the sake of the other people in this gym trying to go about their business, it better be you.”

Tia was trying to stand but her legs were tangled between the bench, Mr. Universe and now Trent, who were standing so close they could probably smell her. Instead she reached out grabbing Trent’s wrist that was squeezing the pulse out of Mr. Universe. The man had tilted his head back to lessen the grip but was unsuccessful. Trent was trained to kill even though he was only trying to intimidate this go-around.

“Let him go, Trent. We can go someplace quiet and talk,” she said desperately.

“I don’t see your trainer backing off,” Trent spat.

“It’s okay, Carlo. I’m just going to go and talk to him. I’ll finish my workout later.”

So Mr. Universe’s name was Carlo. Well, Trent didn’t give a damn. His name needed to be Mr. Two-Step because that’s what he needed to do to get the hell away from Tia, now!

Tia applied pressure to Trent’s wrist, trying to pull him off the trainer’s neck. “Trent. Stop it. You’re making a scene.”

“I told him to back off.”

“And he will once you let him go.”

There was logic to that, Trent thought, but there was also logic to breaking this fool in half for daring to touch Tia. But that was going too far, he knew. So with a deep breath he loosened his grip and took a step back.

Mr. Universe almost tripped over the weight bench trying to get away from him.

“Call another trainer when you’re ready, Tia,” he said and made a hasty retreat.

Trent couldn’t help but smile inwardly. If anybody was going to shape and mold Tia’s body it was going to be him.

“Wipe that satisfied smirk off your face. Your performance was juvenile and unnecessary.” Tia headed out of the room.

He followed her. “And so was your little exit this morning.”

“I don’t owe you any explanations,” she said over her shoulder, then pushed through the door marked “Stairs.”

Trent followed through the door, then reached out grabbing her and pushing her back against the wall. “You owed me at least a goodbye or good riddance. Let’s not forget you were the one who set the ball in motion last night. So don’t play the wounded victim now.”

Even sweating she smelled sexy, like wild berries and musk. It was scintillating, the scent reaching his nostrils then floating through his body like an aphrodisiac. They were alone in this stairwell but the building was full of people. Still he wanted to wrap her legs around his waist and take her right here, right now.

“Nobody said I was a victim,” she said pushing against his chest futilely. “I just had things to do.”

“And you couldn’t wake me up to tell me that. Why sneak out of your own apartment? If you didn’t want me there all you had to do was tell me to leave.”

She stared at him a moment as if she were going to say something, then she looked away.

“So that’s it? You’re just going to run away now? I thought you were better than that,” Trent said.

“You don’t know me,” she spat, then took advantage of his shock and twisted out of his reach.

Trent sighed, staring at her as she turned away from him. This was the other side of Tia St. Claire, the side that kept poking its way to the surface only to be pushed back by the wall she’d created around herself. The side that he warned himself to steer clear of.

Trent had never been one to listen, not even to himself.

“I’d like to get to know you,” he heard himself saying.

She was shaking her head when he approached her again. His hands instantly went around her waist because not touching her wasn’t an option. Pulling her back against him Trent nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck.

“We started backwards. I was supposed to take you to dinner and then seduce you.”

She chuckled and Trent felt a wave of relief wash over him.

“This isn’t a storybook romance,” she said finally.

“Who needs romance? I’m talking about eating. If you’re going to be the workout queen we have to keep you fed.”

She laughed again and Trent felt her relaxing in his arms. What was it that made her so tense and almost afraid at times?

“Look, Trent, we don’t have to do this. I’ll apologize for skipping out on you this morning. You can apologize for acting like a Neanderthal back there with Carlo and we can both go on about our business.”

She’d twisted in his embrace so that they now faced each other and Trent saw that the wall was back in place. She’d gathered her strength and was now facing him as she faced the rest of the world. Only, unlike the rest of the world, Trent knew it was an act. The question was why?

“I’m not apologizing to Mr. Universe. He should know where to put his hands. But I will accept your apology for this morning and offer dinner as a way of calling a truce. We always seem to be fighting each other when it’s obvious that’s not how we want to carry things.”





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