Beautifully Forgotten (11 page)

Lucien lowered his head so she wouldn’t see the brightness of tears in his eyes.

She graciously changed the subject. “Join me for dinner?”

His head lifted and his gaze met hers. “Yeah.”

A slight smile touched her lips. “Don’t worry, Lucien. When you fall, I’ll be there.”

“Why?”

“Because you gave me a purpose again.”

He didn’t want charity and his voice reflected that. “And what purpose is that?”

“To make you happy—when you’re happy, so am I.”

Her answer rendered him speechless. And then she added with a grin, “Feeding you is a good place to start.”

And just like that, he lost a bit of his heart to her.

Lucien was holding his Scotch glass so tightly he feared he was going to shatter it. She’d left him. Not long after Sister Anne died, she’d abandoned him too. It was no wonder that he was so conflicted about having her back in his life. That one woman had the power to make him feel both profound joy and gut-wrenching agony. What the hell was he supposed to do about that?

For eighteen months Ember had been working in some capacity with Charles Michaels. This last year, Michaels had been mapping out the nuances of his campaign strategy to run against Nathaniel Carmichael, who had held the post of senator for three consecutive terms. It wasn’t just about the politics, but the need to make his name and face a household name. With the election in November, it was crunch time.

She might not like the man, but working with him for as long as she had, she’d learned he was an excellent politician. He stood behind what he believed in. She had to give him credit for that. He didn’t talk out of both sides of his mouth, and when he made commitments, he followed through. It was a damn shame he couldn’t have shown that kind of character when Trace and Chelsea were younger and had needed someone in their corner when their father was abusing them.

Her most recent article on Charles was with Stanley, her manager at
In Step
, for review, so while she waited to hear back from him, she was jotting down ideas for her next article that she wanted to review with her editor. Caitlin, an intern working the campaign as part of a night school poli-sci class, stopped by.

“Ember, would you mind keeping Brandon company? I have to get to class.”

“Sure.”

“I’m back tomorrow afternoon, so I can go over his instruction then.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Ember turned to Brandon and extended her hand. “I’m Ember. Nice to meet you, Brandon.”

“Hey.”

“Okay, so I’ll see you both tomorrow. Thanks, Ember.”

Brandon watched Caitlin until she disappeared, so Ember took the opportunity to study the boy. He had dark-brown hair and greenish-gray eyes. And he was tall, close to six feet, and surprisingly muscled for a teenager.

His eyes suddenly turned back to Ember and she blushed at getting caught staring. He grinned, and Ember couldn’t help but think that this boy was going to be trouble when he got older.

“What brings you here? Charles doesn’t often get volunteers that are still in high school. Are you interested in politics?”

All traces of humor left Brandon’s expression before he said, “Didn’t really have a choice.”

“Your parents?”

“Don’t have any. I live in a group home.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“It’s cool. I got in some trouble so it was either this or juvie.”

As arrogant as Charles was, Ember was surprised he was okay with the arrangement. Brandon seemed to read her thoughts and added, “Mr. Michaels is cool with it.”

Ember thought that was an interesting tidbit on Charles. Was it possible there was another side to him? The thought had just entered her head when the door to his office slammed open and out came Heidi Moore, red-faced. At first Ember thought she was seeing things, but no, it was definitely Heidi. She had been so infatuated with Trace for a time that she’d actually stalked him. A knot formed in Ember’s stomach since she knew there was more to Trace and Heidi’s relationship than Heidi’s unrequited love; Trace had also once used her to try to drive Ember away. She tried to ignore her reaction to that fact and focused instead on the scene before her. What the hell was Heidi doing here? And how did she know Charles?

“I’m not kidding. Don’t fuck with me or you’ll regret it,” Heidi yelled.

“What the . . . ?” Charles grabbed her by the arm and pulled her from the office and Ember shamelessly strained her neck looking out the window to see him haul her down the street.

“What was that all about?” Brandon said.

“Politics,” Ember answered, but she knew even as she spoke the words that politics had very little to do with that scene. What the hell
was
that all about?

Ember returned home later in the day and, based on the incredible smell wafting down the hall from the kitchen, Trace had beaten her home. As if on cue, her stomach growled. Dropping her keys on the table, she walked into the kitchen.

“Hello, beautiful.”

“Hi. What are you making?”

“My sister was in the mood for mac and cheese.”

“Sounds good, smells better. Chelsea has good taste.”

He looked at Ember from over his shoulder, but whatever was on the tip of his tongue was replaced with a look of concern. He moved to the table and pulled out a chair.

“You should sit. You look exhausted.”

She dropped down into the chair just as he knelt down next to her. “Can I get you anything?” he asked her.

“Some of that mac and cheese when it’s done.”

“You got it.”

“So guess who I saw today at campaign headquarters?”

“No idea.”

“Heidi.”

For just a second, Ember saw rage sweep Trace’s expression before he pulled it under control. He lowered himself so that they were eye level and then he kissed her. It started out as a chaste kiss, but his tongue sought and was granted access into her mouth. He cradled the back of her head to take the kiss deeper. In the next minute, he lifted her into his arms. He turned the heat off on the stove and carried her down the hall to their bedroom. Ember barely heard the click of the lock before Trace had her on the bed where he slowly undressed her. Exhaustion took a backseat to desire as tingles burned through her. Edginess made her reach for him, but her hands came away empty. Her eyes opened to find Trace reaching for the covers to pull them up over her.

“What are you doing?”

“You should sleep.”

“But I’m not tired.”

His grin was devilish. “You are and dinner won’t be ready for another hour, so take the hour and sleep.”

“I don’t want to sleep, I want you naked and in this bed with me.”

Lust darkened his eyes, but he didn’t waver. “I want that too, but you have dark circles under your eyes.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead that was very chaste before he turned and started from the room. “I’ll wake you.”

He gave her one last look and then closed the door. Words wouldn’t come—Trace had never turned down sex before.

In the morning Ember woke to find herself completely wrapped in Trace. His arm was draped over her stomach, his legs entwined with her own, and her back was pressed up against his chest. He’d never woken her.

“Trace?”

“Hmm?”

“You didn’t wake me.”

He waited a beat too long to reply and she knew he was hedging, but why? “You needed your sleep.”

Somehow she knew there was more to it than her need for sleep and she was about to pry it out of him, but before she could speak, he moved and she felt him, hard and thick, pressing into her butt. She wiggled and he instinctively started moving his hips, rubbing himself against her. His hand found her breast and he fondled her as he pressed a kiss behind her ear.

“Morning,” he whispered.

He moved over her as his clever fingers worked off her panties, and he found her so ready. He pushed his leg between her thighs so he could touch and tease that sensitive nub and, all the while, his hips continued to grind against her. When his finger slipped inside of her, she spread her legs even wider and pressed back into his hard length. He growled low in his throat just as his hands circled her hips and lifted her ass in the air. He was naked and hard when he settled between her legs. His caress was gentle as he moved his fingers over her moist heat before slipping inside her. His other hand moved up her stomach to cup her breast, massaging her aching peak. He rolled her nipple and tugged while his fingers sought deeper penetration. The small part of her brain that was still working couldn’t shake the feeling that he was distracting her, but he was playing her body like a seasoned maestro, which prevented her from forming any coherent reasons for why he wanted her distracted. She felt him pressing against her ass as he ground his hips against her. He worked her until her body was so sensitive, and then he gripped her hips and pushed into her in one long, hard thrust. She cried out as her body spasmed, every nerve ending firing off to send electric jolts racing over her. Her body was still clenching around him when he pulled out of her, and a second later, his tongue was driving into her folds.

“Oh my God, Trace.”

His grip on her hips tightened as his tongue plunged deep, her hips instinctively moving against him. His finger worked the nub between her legs and she was helpless to stop the second orgasm that ripped through her. Her head fell against the pillow, her body went weak with exhaustion. His hands were gentle when he flipped her onto her back, lifted her hips, and sunk deep into her again.

“Stay with me, Ember.”

Her eyes opened, and in his, she saw something that looked an awful lot like guilt, but it was quickly replaced with lust as his hips started to rock back and forth.

“One more time, sweetheart.”

He moved slowly and deliberately; she marveled over how he could control his own release, but he did, working her until she felt her body start that upward spiral again. And when she splintered apart, his body jerked and he roared her name, spilling himself deep inside her.

She couldn’t move and couldn’t think. He had loved her nearly to death.

“Was that too much?”

She couldn’t deny her suspicion that he had intentionally loved her stupid, but she was too exhausted to call him on it and so she replied with a simple, “It was incredible.”

He lifted her from the bed and started to the bathroom.

“What are you doing?”

“I need a shower.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Thought we could conserve resources.”

“My legs don’t work, you’re going to have to hold me up.”

He looked positively wicked when he replied, “That’s the whole idea.”