The Mistresses Collection. Оливия Гейтс

corner of his too-kissable mouth quirked up at one side at the same time he leaned an inch closer and her pulse began to thud.

      “My guess,” he whispered, “is you’ll be going back to check every two minutes.”

      She sighed. He was right. “Maybe we could set up some remote control audio device like a baby monitor so I don’t wear a track in your floor.”

      “We might already have a monitor. One that comes with his own batteries.” Zack looked down.

      Cruiser lay in front of the door, his head dropping onto crossed front paws, his tail as still as midnight. Only his eyes, and the soft folds on his brow, moved as he shared looks between them both. Trinity wanted to bend down and hug his neck.

      “He wants to take the first watch.”

      “This dog has experience.” Zack ruffled one floppy ear. “Before he gets too entrenched, maybe we ought to tell him this posting is strictly temporary.”

      Trinity hid her wince. It hurt to hear what she already knew. As far as she and Zack went, they were proverbial ships passing on a stormy Colorado night, and hopefully the baby and Cruiser would be reunited with people who cared about them. Soon they’d all be separated with no reason to meet again. Like her and that baby so many years ago.

      Back in the main area a few minutes later, Zack was checking out the contents of his fridge.

      “After those leftover steaks, the dog won’t need anything for a while.” Hands on knees, the fridge light casting shadows over the chiseled planes of his face, he glanced at her. “You hungry?”

      They’d had cereal earlier and nibbled cookies throughout the morning. Exhaling until her lungs were completely empty, she eased down into a recliner.

      “I’m more tired than anything. I might just spread out for a while.”

      “Get a proper rest. There are a couple of bedrooms upstairs.”

      Yes, she knew. One of them was his. Safer to stay here.

      “This’ll do fine.” She grabbed a quilt. “Cruiser won’t have to go far looking for me when the baby wakes.”

      “The baby can cope for a couple of minutes without you.”

      “Doesn’t hurt to be close.”

      Really wouldn’t hurt to grab a few winks, either.

      She closed her eyes…let her muscles and tendons relax and float. While a series of snapshots and snippets of conversation from these past hours wound through her mind, she snuggled down more.

      She might have been drifting when a strange sensation began to niggle and take hold. In a heartbeat she was hyperaware of a scent and muffled sound at the same time she felt something shift around her shoulder.

      Her stomach jumped and eyes snapped open. Zack stood over her. His hand was on the quilt, lifting it higher.

      “Your cover slipped.” He finished tucking the edge in around the back of her neck before drawing away. “I thought you were asleep.”

      She exhaled a groan and stretched an arm high. “Trying to.”

      When he turned on his heel, Trinity fought the urge to call him back. She knew what he was. Knew that he used people to get what he required.

      But not in this case. With no thought of personal gain, he’d offered his help with Bonnie, and while she didn’t need to fall into his arms and pretend she was special to him, neither did she have to be rude. This was his house, after all.

      She shifted up a little. “I’m really just resting. It feels good to lounge around but…”

      Zack prodded. “It’s great to lounge around, but what…?”

      “It’s weird,” she confessed, “but after taking care of Bonnie for so long, now, without her right here with me, it almost feels like a part of me is missing.”

      “It’s a motherly thing.”

      She had to grin. “How would you know?”

      “My sister-in-law said something the same the first time their eldest had a sleepover. She said it felt like a limb was cut off.”

      Trinity considered that and nodded. Made sense. A child was such an integral part of her mother. Or she should be.

      He glanced toward that downstairs bedroom. “Cruiser’s still on duty.”

      She angled up. The dog was in the exact same position as they’d left him and now Zack was taking a seat at the foot of her chair.

      With her huddled up and Zack resting back against a neighboring recliner, one arm balanced on a bent knee, she forced herself to accept his proximity and they watched the fire’s sleepy flames dance and curl. Listening to the faint snap and occasional tumble of ash, inhaling the aroma of fresh coffee, knowing the snow was falling gentler now…She tried to put all the negatives out of her mind and focus on this perfect peaceful moment.

      She was nowhere near ready for Zack’s somber question when it came.

      “Trinity, what happened to your parents?”

      A terrible ice-cold then burning heat flooded her middle. He’d caught her off guard… . She didn’t talk about the past. She’d worked to put it behind her where the pain or numbness belonged. But she and Zack would never meet again and, while he might be curious now, it was a sure bet he’d forget her and their conversations much sooner than she ever would.

      And, after thinking about her foster years just now, she felt an odd niggling need to share.

      “I’d like to believe my mother loved me,” she finally said, “even though I wasn’t a product of love. My foster mother told me when I should have been too young to know that my mother was raped.”

      Swinging around, Zack swore under his breath. “Please tell me that woman’s child-minding days are over.”

      “I keep in touch with a couple of people where I grew up. They assure me that she’s long since retired.”

      He rolled back one shoulder and a measure of the distaste dragging on his mouth eased. “Did you have other family?”

      “Apparently my grandparents wanted my mother to give me up. She fought to keep me, but one night, not long after I was born, I was taken away. To this day I don’t know how the legalities were handled—I think some forging must have gone on—but it seems my grandparents thought she’d get over it. That eventually my mother would get on with her life…or, rather, the life they’d prescribed for her. She didn’t, or couldn’t. My mother left her home and set out to find me.”

      Trinity always smiled when she remembered that part of her story, but never for long.

      “With no money or support,” she went on, “my mom ended up on the streets. I found that all out when I hired a P.I. a couple of years back. He also learned that my mother died a day before her twentieth birthday.”

      Zack’s jaw was thrust forward but his eyes were glistening enough for Trinity to see her own reflection. “Your grandparents?”

      “They’ve both passed away. As far as that P.I. could ascertain, they never tried to find me. My mother was an only child so there are no uncles or aunts, either.”

      He bowed his head, shook it once and murmured, “I’m sorry. I can understand why you made that decision.”

      “Which decision?”

      “Not to have a family of your own. That’s a lot to cope with. A lot to forgive.”

      Forgiveness was a strange concept, Trinity thought now, gazing into the fire. She’d heard a person needed to forgive a wrong committed against them in order to get on with their lives. But she’d gotten on with hers without needing to forgive. She could stem the tears. She could logically plan for the future. That’s