SNOWFIRES (9 page)

"You're still leaving things out. How could
the name stick for so long unless there's more to it?"

He leaned back in his chair and met her gaze.
"Damn. You won't leave it alone, will you? There was that other
time a few years later."

"Trent?" She slapped a hand against the
table.

He held up his hands, palm toward her. "Okay.
With his share of the insurance money, Captain Swenson traded his
old tub in on a bigger ship. Of course, that meant more crew. We
were hauling a load of the finest vanilla beans as part of our
cargo. Even sealed in packaging, the smell filled the hold."

"Mmm. That must have been lovely. I often
burn vanilla candles at home. My perfume even has vanilla in
it."

"Yeah, I know.” His comment surprised her but
apparently he didn’t notice. “A couple of the new crew members
decided they could use the cargo to hide their own contraband."

"Drugs." She spoke the word as a statement
rather than a question.

He nodded. "Right. They thought the vanilla
would fool drug-sniffing dogs."

She tilted her head and grinned at him. "But
they couldn't fool Pirate Macleod?"

He answered her smile and it sent heat
surging through her. “They almost made it. If not for a storm that
shifted some of the cargo, they probably would have. We re-stacked
the crates, and three of them seemed different, heavier in weight."
He looked down at his book.

She nudged the book with her finger. "Go
on."

"Well, to cut it short, when the men were
arrested, a crew member mentioned that old tag to a reporter and
started the hype all over again."

"So, did you get another reward?" His tale
impressed her. He’d had an interesting life.

"In a way. The Captain gave me part interest
in the ship. Then, because he never married and had no family, he
made me his sole heir. Unfortunately, he died last year."

"I’m sorry such a kind man died, but how
wonderful you inherited what you’d defended." She should have known
he wasn’t really a pirate, in spite of her dreams and that short
article in an industry magazine. "You saved him twice, you deserved
special treatment."

"No, I did no more than he’d trained me to
do. He took me on when I was sixteen, forced discipline into a
wild, reckless boy. I thought him harsh until I understood he
wanted to make a man of me."

He closed his book. “Okay, turn about is fair
play. What was it like growing up in Highland Park, Texas?”

The sharp edge to his voice didn’t cut as it
would have earlier. Knowing he’d been an abused foster child, her
life must seem perfect.

“
It wasn’t all easy, Trent, in spite of
the vast difference when you compare my childhood to yours. My mom
was a wonderful woman, but she died when I was seven.”

She paused, reaching for the mental image of
her mother. She wished she remembered more of her. “I’d always
idolized my father and for a few months after Mom died, Dad and I
were close. He called us the ‘winning team.’ Every evening Dad and
I played poker, watched TV, went to a movie or somewhere, until he
recovered enough to start going out with his friends again."

Those were happy memories during a troubled
time in her life. She and her father plotted and planned all the
great things they would do together, the places they would see.
Until Geneva had seduced him, she thought, and reintroduced him to
his old excessive habits.

“
When he and Geneva first married,
things weren’t too bad, especially if Dad was around. Soon Jenny
was born and Geneva made shutting me out a campaign. Then Angie
arrived and I became invisible. After that, Dad turned to me only
when his gambling troubles required my help juggling his precarious
finances.”

“
Good thing you had your Grayson
grandparents.”

“
Yes.” She remembered his childhood and
how bleak it must have been. “That’s more than you had.”

He shrugged. “I survived.”

She shook her head. “Surviving isn’t enough
for a child.”

She ached for him and children like him. Yet
how could she make Trent comprehend the pain of the years she
watched her father debase himself, place his family in the midst of
complicated and disastrous schemes? She could try.

“
How can I explain the despair of
seeing Dad spiral further and further into gambling and
self-destruction? It’s true I idolized him, but I know his
faults.”

She sighed and her father’s face appeared in
her mind, laughing and cajoling. “Dad was a charmer who never
learned a glib tongue and bright smile weren’t enough to make up
for his shortcomings. Countless times he gambled away everything we
had. Then he made the same empty promises again and again and
again."

Promises she desperately wanted to believe,
but that she knew were hollow. He always left her to straighten out
the mess of their finances.

“
Gambling is as much a sickness as
alcoholism or drug addiction. He probably tried to fight it, but he
needed professional help.”

His words salved her pride. Who would have
imagined this man would defend her father? “Instead, Geneva
encouraged his gambling. She liked the thrill and the trips to
Vegas with high rollers.”

He nodded. “An enabler.”

“
If you’re right about the addiction of
gambling, then I suppose I was an enabler as well because I always
rescued him one way or another. Until the end, when I couldn’t
without losing our home.”

“
You can’t be blamed for wanting to
help your family.”

His kind words gave her the courage to ask
the question that had deviled her. “Trent?”

“
Yeah.” Candlelight made his eyes
sparkle like the emeralds they resembled.

“
You remember you visited the day my
father had his heart attack but I wasn’t there.” She took a deep
breath and asked, “What did you say to him?”

“
I knew it had always been a family
business so I came to make peace with him. Offered him a place in
the firm as Executive VP.” He shrugged. “He refused to listen, said
he’d never work for another man in his own firm. Called me some
pretty harsh things and ordered me out of the house.”

He reached across the table to touch her
hand. “Sorry you lost him. I know it was rough for you.” As if
surprised he’d touched her, he drew back his hand. “Your father was
pretty mad when I left, but it surprised the hell out of me to
learn it was enough to cause heart failure.”

As Holly suspected, Trent’s version greatly
differed from Geneva’s description. Knowing her stepmother, Trent
was probably closer to the truth. Holly wondered what went on after
Trent had left?

“
Thanks for telling me.” What else
could she say?

He looked at his watch then pushed back from
the table. “I know it’s early in the evening for city girls like
you, but this has been a long day and I’m too beat to read. I’m
turning in.”

After her gut wrenching memories, weariness
slammed into her. She stood and grabbed one of the candles. “You’re
right, it’s been a long day. I’m tired, too.”

“
You take the bathroom first. I’ll take
the other candle and the matches to the bedroom.”

Holly hurried through her night regimen. She
hadn’t bothered to pack nightclothes because she always kept some
at her grandparents’ home. She’d have to sleep in her underwear
again. And wouldn’t you know she’d be wearing the flimsy black lace
panties and bra her half-sisters had given her with the boots for
her birthday? She slipped out of her slacks and blouse, then put
her coat back on before she left the bathroom.

Trent waited at the door. While he readied
himself—and what did a man have to do anyway besides pee and
undress?—she draped her coat across the bed and crawled under the
covers. After the warmth of the bathroom, the frigid bed set her to
shivering. Couldn’t the Martins have at least invested in a pair of
flannel sheets?

Like a streaker in briefs, Trent raced in and
tossed his clothes on the bed before he joined her. When he hit the
soft mattress, it acted like a trampoline and sent her bouncing
into him. He blew out the candle then wrapped his arms around her.
His warm skin stopped her shivers and she snuggled her back against
him.

She lay there for what seemed ages. His
breathing indicated he hadn’t fallen asleep either.

“
Have to move.” She flipped onto her
back with her straightened legs over his bent limbs. That sent too
much cold air space around her feet. “Turn over.”

“
Would you be still?” He rolled so she
could snuggle to his back.

After what seemed like another hour but
couldn’t have been, he moved. “Hurt this hip when I fell this
morning and can’t sleep on it. Need to turn back the other
way.”

With a sigh, she complied. “You didn’t say
you’d hurt yourself. I thought you only got wet.”

“
Yeah, wouldn’t have mattered except I
injured this years ago and it haunts me.” He slid his arms around
her and spooned her to him.

“
What happened?” She laid her arms
along his so their hands touched.

“
Old fracture.” He exhaled. “When I was
ten, a drunk foster father hit me with his car.”

“
No! What happened and how badly were
you hurt?” She squeezed his hand. What a horrid life he’d
had.

“
He was so drunk he didn’t know what
he’d hit and kept going. One of the other foster kids saw me lying
in the driveway and got my so-called foster mother. She made the
other kid help drag me to the street. Then she made us promise not
to tell who’d hit me before she’d call the ambulance. She reported
it as an unknown hit and run.”

Holly turned in his arms and touched his
cheek. “You had a terrible childhood. I know you don’t want pity
and my sympathy doesn’t help, but I’m still sorry you had to go
through such tough times.”

“
Guess things like that made me tough
enough to survive. Whatever we go through becomes a part of us.
Early on I learned the only person I could depend on was myself. If
I’d had a different life, I’d have been a different person.” He
threw one leg over her and pulled her near.

The intimacy should have made her pull back,
but she couldn’t. “You know I still don’t agree with your plans for
the company?”

He stroked her arm. “Yeah, and you don’t want
me there. But we’ll have to agree to disagree because I’m there to
stay. I’m a nobody from the other side of the tracks, Holly, but
I’m determined to succeed in this.”

She couldn’t stop thinking of the picture he
painted of his childhood. Her heart broke for that little boy,
alone and injured by the people assigned to protect him.
Irrationally, she wanted to make it up to him, supply the nurturing
he’d missed. Her cheek touched the skin of his shoulder. As if by
its own volition, her hand raised to rest where her fingers gently
brushed his chest.

He caressed her hair before his hand slid
down her back, stroking her. Salving motions from this hard man
touched a place deep inside her core. Heat swirled and built within
her. Years spent as the caregiver, as the glue welding her family
together, melted in the wake of her need to comfort him. She
yearned to console this man and experience the solace and release
his arms offered.

Lightly she pressed her lips to his chin then
his cheek. Her mouth parted to receive the kiss she craved. His
lips claimed hers softly, tentatively exploring. So gentle, so
sweet. No matter how much she disagreed with him about company
business, how could she resist this man?

CHAPTER SEVEN

In
answer to
her own question, she told herself no sane, healthy woman could
resist this opportunity. She leaned into him, slipping her arms
around his neck. He deepened the kiss. Their tongues danced and
their lips merged. A low moan escaped from her while raw rumbles
emanated from his throat.

His hands explored her body, his fingers
searing her skin as they had in her dream. Fully awake this time
she was more alive than ever in her life. Each touch of his fingers
set her blood pumping, her heart singing.

His hand cupped her breast as his mouth
trailed kisses along her neck and shoulders. When he unhooked her
bra and he suckled her hardened nipple, she moaned and pulled his
shoulders to her. Swirls of heat pooled low in her abdomen. Honeyed
moisture gathered in her vagina. The hard ridge of his desire
pushed against her thigh, and she parted her legs.

As his hand left her breast, he snagged a
finger into the waistband of her panties and pulled them down. She
wriggled to assist him and arched her back. The cool sheets raked
against her naked flesh and sent her to new heights.

“
Now you.” She nipped at his chest and
pushed his cotton underwear down.

She’d thought to be the seducer but now he
took control. His hands and lips created magic with her body. Being
with a control freak was a plus when he had this power.

He slid his finger into her wet folds and
rubbed his thumb against the nub of her yearning. “You’re ready for
me. Your last chance to say no, Princess?"

For the very first time in her life, Holly
Tucker gave in to the moment. Her mind emptied of everything but
the man who lay with her. Gone were thoughts of family duties,
grudges, responsibilities, and carefully weighed decisions. She
surrendered to her desire to be one with this man.

"Yes. Oh, yes. Don’t keep me waiting any
longer, pirate." Her hips nudged his.

His hand slid beneath the pillow and pulled
out a foil package.