Rush of Redemption (Rush Series #2) (12 page)

“
Shhh
.
 It’s
okay. It was only a dream,” he reassured her again.

She pressed her face into
his body and clung to him. “Oh, my God, oh, my God…” she repeated over and
over.

When she’d calmed somewhat,
with both of them lying on their sides facing each other, he brushed the hair
from her face tenderly. “You okay?” he asked, as she stared into his eyes still
seeking assurance.

She swallowed hard but
nodded.

“What were you dreaming
about?” he asked softly.

She blinked her eyes
against the memories. “The night my mother was killed,” she answered simply.

He pulled her back up
against his body and pressed his lips against her forehead, knowing what had
brought on the nightmare. “You’re safe, Trinity. No one can harm you here. I’ll
protect you and Blake, I swear it.”

Buried in his chest, she
shivered but nodded. With her chest heaving and desperation flowing through her
veins, she slid up his body and pressed her lips frantically against his. He
hesitated for a heartbeat before returning the kiss. She wrapped her hands
around his neck and clung as tight as she could. She forced his mouth open and
thrust her tongue into his, trying to devour him… trying to find something
life-affirming.

With a soft moan, he
quickly became the aggressor and flipped her over and dragged her body further
away from Blake’s. With urgent hands, he slipped the T-shirt from her and ran
his hands over her soft body.

“I need you now,” she whispered
frantically, as she ran her hands over him furiously.

With less than gentle hands
himself, he removed her panties and his briefs. Moving over her, he held her
face in his hands and gazed into her eyes intently as he lowered himself into
her body slowly… oh so very slowly. Her body clenched around him like a glove
as he possessed her. They both moaned. With slow, precise movements, he plunged
into her, over and over while continuing to stare into her eyes. When the
heightened physical sensations of her body began to match her equally
heightened mental distress, she became overwhelmed and tears streamed down her
face. With soft words of love and tenderness, he brushed them away with his
lips.

“I love you, Trinity. I’ll
always love you. You’re safe with me, I promise,” he reiterated against her
ear.

She closed her eyes at his
words and concentrated only on the feel of his body as it seemed to worship her
own. Slowly and easily, he continued to slide his body sensuously into hers
until he took them both to the place they wanted to be. And with tenderness, he
pushed them gently into the blessed abyss.

Once their breathing slowed
and peace lingered once again over the room, he pulled her back to him so she
was once again snuggled against his chest. He stroked her arm rhythmically.
With his eyes closed, and with a smirk, he asked softly, “Why are we sleeping
on the floor?”

He was surprised when he
felt her tense at his question. She hesitated so long he didn’t think she was
going to answer. Exhaling deeply, she said finally and haltingly, “I don’t… I
didn’t want to sleep in the same bed as all the others.”

His eyes flashed open and
his rhythmic stroking on her arm stopped at her words. Moving so he was once
more hovering over her staring into her eyes, he said quietly, “I’ve never
brought another woman into my home… only you.”

She stared up at him as she
weighed his words. “Where… where would you… 
did
 you…”
she trailed off, not wanting to say the words. Not that 
not
 saying
the words stopped the visions flicking through her mind of him with woman after
woman on his bed, caressing them, enjoying them, and gaining satisfaction from
their bodies.

He traced her cheekbone
with his forefinger to regain her focus. 
“Anywhere but
here.
 They weren’t important to me. I didn’t want them here. This
is my sanctuary… and now it’s yours.”

Blinking rapidly, she took
a shuddering breath and gave a small nod. “Okay,” she whispered raggedly.

“Okay,” he whispered back,
kissing her softly. Settling back down, he drew her back up against him. After
several moments of silence, he asked quietly, “What do you remember about your
mother?”

Lying against his chest,
she lifted a finger and slowly ran it in imaginary figures against his chest as
she thought. “She was beautiful. I always thought she looked like a princess.
She had long, dark hair and dark eyes like mine, but much more beautiful. She
was quiet in a thoughtful way and gentle. Every night she would tuck me into
bed and read to me.”

Rolling onto her back,
Trinity stared up into the darkness. “I loved the sound of her voice. I would
close my eyes and her voice would soothe me. I miss her voice the most of all,
I think. I struggled a long time after she died. During the time of the
kidnapping, I didn’t know she was dead, and I kept waiting for her to come and
rescue me. Whenever that creaky, metal door would push open, I always expected
to see her face… hear her voice. But she never came.”

She paused, lost in her
memories before continuing. “Afterwards, my father wouldn’t allow me to see her
body. He thought it was better if I remembered her alive, I guess. But I think
it would have given me more closure if I’d actually seen her one last time.”
Lifting a hand to brush against a lone tear, she said, “Sometimes I feel like
I’m still waiting for her to come back. I’ll see someone who looks like her in
the store or in the street, and I’ll swear it’s her… but it never is.”

Silence lingered over them
for a long while. Whispering, she said, “I really hate my father for what he
did. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive him. He stole my life…
destroyed it.”

Rolling onto his side, he
positioned her the way he liked, with her back facing him, and tucked her
deftly against his strong, firm body. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he murmured against
her ear. “I hate that you’re hurting. I wish there was some way I could take it
all away.”

She interlocked her fingers
with his and burrowed into him. The room grew quiet, the only sounds being the
air being pushed through the vents and their breathing. She’d almost fallen
back to sleep when the tiny body in front of her began to squirm and whimper.

Behind her, she heard Rush
exhale, then ask quietly, “Can we take this party back to the bedroom now –
back to our nice, soft bed, please?”

Scooping Blake up into her
arms, she stood. “Come on, Blake,” she murmured to the baby. “Apparently,
Daddy’s no camper,” she said with a grin.

~*~

As Rush had promised, a truckload of baby items arrived the next day.
Rush had gone into the office really early and had left without waking her and
she had to admit she felt a little cheated. She wondered if he always worked
this hard and this late. She hoped it only had to do with the glitches in his
two projects. She supervised the unloading of the truck, and as Rush wasn’t
there, made a command decision on which room to set up for Blake. She picked
the room closest to them which allowed for the most sunlight. She talked the
delivery men into moving the furniture already in that room into the garage.
She’d let Rush worry about what do with it afterwards.

Once everything was placed
where she wanted it, she thanked the delivery men and gave them a big tip.
Right before they left, one of them brought in one last box wrapped with a huge
bow. It reminded her of the box of toothbrushes Rush had gifted her with so
long ago. She took the box into the living room and set it on the coffee table.
Attached to the bow was a gift card which read: 
To the Best Mom in the
World, Love Blake
. She smiled at Rush’s thoughtfulness.

Quickly, she grabbed the
ends of the bow and tugged with both hands. The bow fell away and she removed
the lid. Peering down into the box, she found a sheet of paper with Rush’s bold
handwriting across it: 
Trinity, Please use these supplies and your
incredible talent to help make our house into a home. 
With
love and great impatience, Rush.

Curious as to what could
possibly be in the box, she leaned over eagerly to look. Nestled inside the box
were dozens of different colored artist paints and an assortment of brushes. He
wanted her to paint a mural in the baby’s room. The fact that he appreciated
her talent made her insides glow.

Once she fed and bathed the
baby, she rocked and sang to him as he clutched his little hand around her
finger until he closed his tiny, blue eyes which always looked up at her so
trustingly. With a last kiss to his head, she laid him down in his new crib.
She looked around his room and let her imagination run wild. Moving to the
living room, she put the box of art supplies away and took the sheet of paper
Rush had wrote his note on and turned it over. With a pencil she found by the
phone, she sat on the couch and looking out at the vast expanse of the river,
she began to draw ideas for Blake’s new room. Instead of the same theme she’d
used at her condo, for reasons she didn’t want to examine too closely, she
wanted to do something unique for Rush’s house. What did it mean that she still
differentiated their homes? 
Yours and mine?
 Staring
out at the river, she began to sketch scenes of boats on the water with
airplanes flying overhead.

She sketched for about an
hour when the doorbell rang. Her hand paused in mid-sketch. She stayed seated
and waited for Radcliff to answer the door. She hated the apprehension which
started to crawl up her spine. Her apprehension rose further when she actually
saw who walked through the entry.

Andrew Drayton, Rush’s
grandfather, strolled into the room carrying a couple of brightly wrapped
gifts. He was dressed elegantly but casually in tan slacks and short-sleeved
royal blue shirt. The color of the shirt enhanced the shocking white of his
hair and brought out the intensity of his blue eyes. His astute eyes
seemed to take in everything. Even in his advanced years, he was a very
attractive man.

Shoving her sketch to the
side, she rose nervously and slid her suddenly damp palms against her pants.
She gave him a hesitant smile and brushed a hand over her hair to smooth it
into to place. For reasons she didn’t quite understand, Drew Drayton made her
feel exactly the same way as her father had. As if no matter what she did, she
would never measure up to whatever goal had been set.

“
Ahhh
,
Trinity. You look beautiful as ever. How are you?” he asked as he set the gift
boxes down on the coffee table and leaned in to press a kiss to her cheek.

Trinity held herself
stiffly, but endured his touch. 
“Umm.
 I’m
fine, thank you. Uh, Rush isn’t here. He’s at the office. I can call him if
you’d like.”

Sitting down on the couch
and crossing one ankle over the other knee in his elegant
manner, he waved a hand at her, indicating she join him on the couch. “No need.
I’m actually here to see you and Blake. I’ve been remiss in my duties as a
doting great-grandfather and I’m here to remedy that.

Once again, Trinity ran her
hands over her pants leg. “Oh… that’s very nice. He’s asleep right now…” she
trailed off, not sure what she was supposed to do.

“That’s okay. I wanted to
have an opportunity to talk with you as well… you know, get to know the girl
who’s stolen my Rush’s heart,” he said with a smile.

She nodded but didn’t know
what to say. There was nothing she wanted less than to sit with this man and
talk with him. She felt cornered as he was Rush’s grandfather, however.

Leaning forward, Drew
Drayton reached onto the table and picked up the first of the two gifts and
handed it to her. “This was given to Rush at his birth from my father, Randall
Drayton. I thought it only fitting that it now be passed down to his son.”

“That’s very kind. Thank
you,” Trinity answered as she took the box and slowly removed the lid from the
small blue box. Lying amongst white tissue paper was a small silver rattle.
Around the center, engraved in a fancy script was 
Drayton
. It was
beautiful and elegant.

“It’s beautiful, thank
you,” she murmured.

“You’re welcome. I hope one
day, Blake will pass it down to his son. It is as it should be. While I must
admit to being a little old-fashioned and would have preferred things done in a
more conventional order – you know, marriage first then baby; I’m willing to
accept Rush’s decision to accept his responsibilities. It’s the way he is, the
way he has always been,” Drew Drayton said as he picked imaginary lint from his
pants leg.

Trinity felt her ire rise
and her face flush. “I didn’t trap Rush into marriage if that’s what you’re
insinuating,” she said hotly.

“You’d hardly be the first,
my dear,” he said with a forced smile.

Rising to her feet, she
said coldly, “I think it’s time for you to leave.”

“Are you after his money?”
he asked as if she’d not spoken.

“Not that my relationship
with Rush is any of your business…” she began before he cut her off.

“On the contrary, it is
definitely my business. The decisions Rush makes impacts us all now that he is
head of 
DrayCo
.”