The Mistresses Collection. Оливия Гейтс

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      And now they would be here together another night… .

      What would she do if he brought out the red wine and brandy and tried his charm on her again? Not that she wanted him to. But with the lights off and his magic switched on, the urges he brought out in her were difficult to deny. She could tell him she wasn’t interested.

      But what if he cut her off with a mind-robbing penetrating kiss? She might not approve of his character, but his seduction techniques were certainly a force. Was he the type who preferred sex fast and furious, or did he craft every move, absorb every touch…savor every sip? How would it feel to have Zack Harrison’s hips grinding above hers, his mouth and tongue and teeth on her neck as she exploded and came apart in his arms?

      Zack was at her side now, running a fingertip around the baby’s cheek. “She looks like she might go down again.”

      Coming back to reality, Trinity scolded herself. Concentrate. He asked about the baby.

      “I, eh, don’t think she’s ready yet.”

      “Why don’t you sit for a while then?”

      “She likes the movement.” The rocking.

      “Even if your arms fall off?”

      She tested him. “Care to take over?”

      He studied the baby but eventually his hand dropped away. “You’re the expert.”

      “Not where wearing people down are concerned.”

      He looked at her sideways. “Do you want to explain that comment?”

      “No.” She took a breath. “Except to say if we’re spending another night together, I’ll be sleeping in one room and you’ll be sleeping in another.”

      His smiling eyes dropped to her mouth. “I thought you liked camping out.”

      “What happened last night in front of the fire—” she walked back to the baby’s recliner “—it won’t happen again.”

      “No?”

      Her back to him, she confirmed, “No.”

      “And if I decide to wear you down?”

      His deep voice was at her ear, husky enough to send a wave of heat curling through her veins. In quick time, she tamped down the flame and turned to face him. But she hadn’t banked on just how close he’d be, his broad chest so near, the rugged angles of his face slanting over hers. At this range, his presence was phenomenal…larger than life.

      With his dark gaze penetrating hers, she fought to straighten her thoughts.

      “I’m the enemy, remember? Aren’t you afraid I’ll get too close and expose all your secrets?”

      His gaze turned hard then cold. “You’re welcome to them.”

      When he moved away, Trinity felt the adrenaline drain from her body. The sooner this time was over, the better. She just prayed the authorities found Bonnie’s mother soon.

      He crossed to stoke the fire while she continued to sway with the baby. After a few more minutes, feeling confident Bonnie was about to nod off, Trinity eased the baby down onto the freshly laundered blanket on the recliner and bit by bit straightened.

      When Bonnie shifted, Trinity thought she was merely getting comfortable. But then she moved again, blinked open her big blue eyes and, curious, Cruiser padded back from the fire to check. At the same time the baby gave a whimper, Trinity remembered her foster mother’s favorite saying: doesn’t hurt to let them cry.

      And cry and cry and cry.

      The short time Nora Earnshaw had looked after that baby so long ago was the best and worst time of Trinity’s childhood. Only young herself, Trinity had helped where she could, eager to fetch a diaper or a rattle if the baby got tired of her singing and stories of white unicorns with golden horns and wings. But bedtimes were strict. When 7:00 p.m. arrived and teeth were brushed, Trinity wasn’t allowed out of her room.

      Maybe the baby cried because he’d wanted a bottle, but Trinity had always thought he’d simply wanted someone to sing to him. Lots of times she’d come close to taking the risk and sneaking out, but to her shame she never had. Instead she’d lain stiff while hot tears slid from the corners of her eyes and she’d stared, sick to her stomach, into the everlasting shadows. Into the dark.

      Even now she wanted to cover her ears to the memories.

      Back firmly in the present, Trinity swooped to pick Bonnie up again. If she was spoiling her, too bad. She’d rather a child have too much than too little. Who could ever say they had too many cuddles?

      From the corner of her eye, Trinity saw Zack taking in the scene but he didn’t offer an opinion. Slotting the poker away, he sauntered back to his laptop, which was open on the table, while she rocked the baby some more.

      Twenty minutes later, when Bonnie finally looked completely gone and Trinity’s back was ready to break, she carefully, carefully lay her down. But no sooner had her fingers slipped away than the baby pulled a face and shifted again. Her heavy eyelids dragged opened, her precious bottom lip began to quiver and Trinity’s heart broke in two. What was she doing wrong?

      She checked the baby’s satin brow. No temperature. Collecting Bonnie again, she glanced around. Light snow was still filtering down outside but, to a degree, daylight brightened the room.

      She asked Zack, “Can you draw some blinds?”

      Rather than spend all day in pj’s or change into business clothes, Zack had found her a pale blue cashmere sweater, which served wonderfully as a soft, comfy dress. He’d donned a sweater, too, dark slate in color to match his eyes. Coupled with a pair of well-loved jeans that hugged his buns and long athletic legs just right, he looked like every woman’s GQ dream come to life. Well, he was.

      Now those broad cashmere-covered shoulders squared as he stood tall, ready for action.

      “Those windows don’t have blinds.”

      None at all? “Don’t you believe in privacy?”

      “We’re in the middle of nowhere. No one’s going to peep unless it’s a bear.”

      “I thought she might settle if it was dark. I’m going to try her in my room.” The one where she kept her overnighter and changed Bonnie. “It’ll be quieter in there, too.” No rattling of coffee cups or Cruiser’s claws clicking over the timber floor. They wouldn’t have to tiptoe around, holding their breath. “Can you get some pillows together?”

      “I’m on it.” He strode ahead.

      When she crept in the darkened room, he was retrieving extra pillows from a walk-in closet. Without her having to ask, to make it snug, he positioned the pillows in a rectangle on the bed then stuffed another quilt around the outside to keep the structure sound. Trinity lowered the baby and, checking inside the suit, made sure again her diaper was dry.

      Seconds then minutes ticked by. The baby didn’t move. Maybe it was the lack of light; perhaps she was simply wornout, poor love. Trinity only knew she felt so happy and relieved when Bonnie stayed asleep; she was torn between laughing and collapsing. But it only took Zack to approach her—to come near—for her senses to begin to stir in that different, R-rated kind of way.

      His rumbling voice was extra low. “Success.”

      She hugged herself. “Fingers crossed.”

      “How long do babies’ lunchtime naps last?”

      “Guess we’re about to find out. Hopefully a couple of hours.”

      She gave Bonnie one last heartfelt look before she followed Zack out. When he moved to click shut the door, she automatically set a hand on his arm. Beneath the fine wool, that limb felt like a length of warm steel, so inviting to the touch, despite it all, she found it difficult