The Riding Master (27 page)

“Trent, that’s not polite.”

“They understand, Rayne. They’re not into formality. Kind of like us.”

Just as they were leisurely making their way through the entrance hall to the double doors, a strong hand come down on Rayne’s shoulder.

“Rayne?”

When she heard that thundering voice, she let go of Trent’s hand and wheeled around.

He had slicked back his gray hair, and the black Brioni tuxedo he wore emphasized his wide shoulders and narrow waist. He smelled of his sweet and very expensive Clive Christian cologne, and his “only for special occasions” diamond and gold Rolex shone on his right wrist.

“Foster,” Rayne all but yelped.

Trent’s reassuring arm curved about her waist, but Rayne could not turn to him. She was almost petrified to her spot on the gray marble floor.

“You look stunning.” Foster’s eyes swept over her gown. “I remember the last time you wore that dress. We were celebrating our seventh wedding anniversary.”

Trent stepped out from behind Rayne. “Foster. Good to see you again.”

“Trent?” Foster sounded surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“I do consulting work with Propel Oil and Gas. Tyler Moore is a friend.”

“Really?” Foster’s gray eyebrows went up. “Tyler and I play tennis together every now and then. He never mentioned he knew you.”

“Since when do you play tennis with Tyler Moore?” Rayne demanded.

“Connie made a point of getting to know him at the Dallas Country Club. She was always the social climber and introduced us. Much to my surprise, we hit it off.”

Rayne struggled to curb her growing anxiety. “Where is Connie? Is she here?” 

“No.” Foster took a step closer to her, putting his back to Trent. “Connie left me. It seems I was too old for her after all. Just as you had warned.”

“I said she was too immature for you, Foster, not that you were too old.” Rayne shifted her attention to Trent. “We should be going.”

“Have you been here long?” Foster persisted with that lilt of insistence that Rayne recognized when he was getting impatient.

“Yes,” Rayne told him. “That is why it’s time for us to go.”

“Foster, there you are!” a woman’s captivating voice called from just down the hallway.

When Rayne’s eyes swerved past her ex-husband, a pair of almond-shaped, bright green eyes glared back at her.

Sashaying seductively between the guests, and barely covered in black velvet, the woman smugly came up to the trio, flashing a perfect, white-capped smile and waving a flute of champagne. Her strapless gown had slits running up both sides, and she appeared dangerously close to having a wardrobe malfunction. Dark brown hair was teased and tossed about her white shoulders, while a stunning platinum and diamond necklace sparkled on her long neck.  

“Trent!” she screeched, drawing the interest of a few other guests. “What are you doing here?”

Trent’s body tensed. “Lisa, this is unexpected.”

Foster appeared genuinely shocked. “You two know each other?”

Trent curtly nodded and motioned to Rayne. “Lisa Shelby, this is Rayne Greer.”

Rayne instantly recognized the name of Trent’s former lover, and gave the woman another thorough going over. Catlike in her movements, with long legs, a very slender waist, and full breasts, Lisa Shelby’s body was the kind usually found in the centerfold of a male magazine. However, her sallow, oblong face, flat cheekbones, round lips, and wide chin dramatically contrasted with her svelte figure, making Rayne wonder how much of her body was actually hers and not reconstructed from silicone.

“So you’re Foster’s ex.” Lisa had the kind of deep, breathless voice that men swooned over. “How do you know Trent?”

“We ride together at Southland,” Trent quickly added.

Lisa’s inquisitive eyes drifted down to where Trent’s hand hugged Rayne’s waist. “Just ride?”

Rayne raised her head to her ex-husband, ignoring Lisa. “I didn’t realize you two were acquainted.”

Lisa looped her arm about Foster’s waist and he nervously cleared his throat. “Oh, we never met before tonight,” he revealed.

“Yes.” Lisa snuggled up against Foster. “But we’ve discovered that we have quite a lot in common.”

“I’ll bet,” Trent muttered under his breath.

“We’re just friends,” Foster insisted.

But Lisa’s wicked grin spoke volumes to Rayne.

“Well, I must admit,” Trent professed with more than a hint of disbelief in his voice. “I never suspected you two would get together.”

Lisa’s eyes hungrily devoured Trent’s body. “My, you look quite dashing in that tux, Trent. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you in it.”

“So how do you two know each other exactly?” Foster pursued, eyeing Lisa.

Lisa wavered as the champagne glass in her hand tipped dangerously close to spilling. “Oh, we’re old friends. Trent used to work for me at Shelby Stables. He’s an excellent riding master; don’t you agree, Rayne?”

“Yes, very good.” Rayne took Trent’s hand. “We really need to go.”

Trent nodded to Foster. “Foster.” He veered his eyes to Lisa. “Lisa, good to see you again.”

She tilted her voluminous cleavage toward Trent. “Always a pleasure, Trent.”   

Foster eagerly searched Rayne’s face. “How’s Estelle?”

Rayne cast her eyes to the floor. “She’s fine.”

“I’ll call you, so we can talk.” 

“Sure, you do that, Foster.” Rayne spun away, pulling Trent behind her.

“I’ll see you soon, Trent,” Lisa exclaimed as they proceeded to the front doors.

Once they were out on the path that led to the street, Trent started laughing. “I can’t believe those two have hooked up.”

Rayne perused the sea of cars for his BMW. “If you ask me, they deserve each other.”

“I’m sure they do,” he agreed. “But Foster better be careful with that one. Lisa Shelby only sees dollar signs when she looks at men.”

“Is that why you called it off between you two?”

He dug out his keys from his jacket pocket. “Let’s just say we wanted different things.”

Rayne noted the twitching muscles in his jaw. “Do you still care for her?”

“No, of course not. I was the one who ended it.” He paused, observing her wary reaction. “You’re not letting her get to you, are you? She was drunk, Rayne, and I think making a play for your ex was more for your benefit than his.”

“She was making a play for you, Trent, not for Foster.”

“Let it go, Rayne. I don’t want her to ruin the rest of our evening.” Trent escorted her away from the glowing lights of Tyler Moore’s refined home. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Chapter 20

The chic Joule Hotel in downtown Dallas was not where Rayne was expecting to stay when they walked into the ultra-modern lobby with its contemporary design and collection of modern art. After checking in at the elegant Italian wood front desk, with the enormous bronze artwork of a chambered nautilus mounted behind it, Trent and Rayne headed to their room on the fifth floor.

“Any particular reason you chose the best hotel in the city for tonight?” Rayne interrogated as the dimly lit glass elevator car rose upward.

He rearranged their overnight bags on his shoulder. “I wanted to make tonight special. How am I doing so far?”

She grinned at him. “What are you up to?”

“Patience, baby.” He patted her butt. “You’ll just have to wait and see what I have planned for us.”

The elevator doors opened on their floor, and Trent ushered her into the hallway.

Colorful modern paintings of different geometric shapes lined the dark blue and gold-painted walls. At a white door with gold piping and the number 567 on it, Trent ran the room key through the electronic lock. But when Rayne stepped inside, it was not an ordinary hotel room she found, but a two-story loft suite. “You got a suite?”

Trent followed her in the door. “I told you I wanted to make tonight special.”

Done in the ultramodern theme of the hotel, the living room had sleek chrome and leather furniture, spherical light fixtures that hung from the intricately tiled ceiling, and walls decorated with black and white photographs of Dallas landmarks.

“But Trent, this is so expensive.”

He dropped the bags on the red, gold, and beige carpet. “I can afford it.”

“I’m impressed.” Rayne viewed the glass and steel balcony railing on the second-story. “But why did you go to all of this trouble?”

He came up behind her and ran his fingers along her bare arms. “First of all, it wasn’t any trouble to pick up the phone and make a reservation. Second, I wanted to bring you some place memorable for our special night.”

Turning to him, she wrinkled her forehead with curiosity. “That’s the second time you referred to this as a ‘special night.’ Why?”

“You don’t miss a thing do you?”

She angled away from him. “So you are up to something.”

He twisted one corner of his mouth into a leering smile and then abruptly stood back from her. “I have something for you.”

He went to his black overnight bag on the floor and zipped it open. Returning to her side, he had something gripped tightly in his right hand. “I want you to think about this before you say we’re moving too fast, or that you want me to reconsider.” He held up his hand and opened it. Sitting in his palm was a gold key with a single red ribbon tied around it.

Rayne stared at the key, not sure what it meant.

“It’s to my house,” Trent clarified. “I want you to know you can come and go at any time. Bring Frank as well. I want you to be a part of my life.”

She took the key and fingered the red ribbon. “I’m touched, Trent.”

He lowered his head, contemplating her eyes. “But…?”

Rayne clutched the key to her chest. “No buts. I think this is…pretty great.”

“And here I was worried you would think I was pressuring you.”

She shook her head. “You don’t pressure me. If anything you…never mind.”

He shimmed up to her. “Talk to me.”

“I was going to say that….” She halted, fearful of his reaction. “You make me feel confident. We can go as fast or as slow as you want. As long as I can be with you, it doesn’t matter.”

Trent picked her up in his arms. “Now, that’s what I want to hear.”

She giggled against him with relief. “It is?”

He carried her to the recessed stairs toward the back of the living room and bounded up the steps two at a time. Hurrying along the second floor landing, Rayne looked ahead to the open loft bedroom. A wide king-sized bed covered with white and burgundy bed linens beckoned. When Trent gently lowered her on to the bed, his hands were instantly reaching for the zipper at the back of her dress.

“Ever since I saw you in this, I’ve wanted to take it off you.” His lips hungrily kissed her neck and sped downward.

Rayne pushed his black tuxedo jacket over his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. As she became undone by his kisses, the key in her hand tumbled to the floor beside his jacket. She was tugging at the buttons on his white shirt as Trent eased the gown from her body. Once he had put her dress to the side, his hands crept down her legs to her black pumps. One by one, he dropped the shoes on the floor with a dramatic flourish, making Rayne laugh. But when Trent quickly discarded his shirt and climbed onto the bed, her laughter subsided. He held her close and his mouth came down hard on hers.

His kisses were like fire, scorching her lips. She opened her mouth for him, and wantonly ran her tongue along his. Incensed by her, Trent became even more insistent. His hands avidly roamed every inch of her. Pulling at her strapless bra, he threw it to the floor, and when his fingers hooked her lacy black underwear, Rayne was sure he was going to rip them away, too. Instead, he gently lowered the panties down her legs and haphazardly tossed then aside. His hand immediately went to the mound between her legs, and felt her folds.

“You’re so wet,” he mumbled into her hair. “I can’t wait.”

His strong hands gripped her hips and without warning flipped her over. Rayne’s excitement for him took over as his body pinned her against the bed. 

“Do it,” she groaned, shoving her butt into his crotch.

She heard the distinct sound of a zipper being lowered, and then felt his hands on her folds, spreading them apart. When he thrust into her, it was brutal, hard, and exhilarating.

Her head shoved into the mattress as he forced his body weight into her. Rayne’s insides were screaming for him. When he pushed further in, she moaned with satisfaction. His lovemaking was rough and had none of the calculated restraint she had felt from him in the past. He held nothing back as he relentlessly pounded into her, rutting behind her and grunting with exertion. She gave herself completely, wanting him to take her in any way he needed. When her orgasm started, it hurtled up from her belly, faster than she had expected, and as it took over, it became so intense that she lost all sense of reality.

She stretched out like a cat in the sun, and a deep, guttural scream echoed in her ears as her insides clamped down with release. Rayne could feel the perspiration on her face, hear Trent crying out on top of her, smell the air thick with a mix of her floral perfume and his musky aroma, but she was helpless against the sweet torment taking over her body.