Authors: Brenda Joyce
A shadow by a corner window turned. “What are you doing?”
Her vision adjusted to the darkness. The shadow emerged into a man—into Trev. He stood by the window, a glass in hand. Kait wished her heart wouldn’t riot at the mere sound of his voice. She found a lamp on a table beside the couch and turned it on. “I’m hungry,” she said.
His eyes slid over her, lingering on her bare toes with their pastel pink polished nails. “I’m sorry about the way the evening turned out.”
She started. “Thank you.” Oddly, in spite of everything, he seemed sincere. If only Rafe hadn’t been by that night. Kait had the feeling he would have softened even more toward her.
Trev continued to regard her. Kait realized that his glass was empty and that she could hear her racing heartbeat.
She swallowed uneasily. She wished it weren’t so late. And she wished that they weren’t alone. But that last wish was a halfhearted one. Because she wanted this moment of intimacy as much as she feared it—as much as she knew it was wrong. Because just standing there, yards away but alone with him, did terrible things to her body, her heart, her mind. Kait was yearning for what she could not—and should not—have.
“Drink?” he asked, moving to the bar cart.
Kait glanced at it, and saw that he had made quite a dent in the contents of the scotch decanter. It had been full a few hours ago—he must have had four stiff drinks since then.
Kait hesitated. She had to say no, and not because she was not a scotch drinker. But because it was late, because they were alone, and because she was hungry—and food was no longer the issue. Her heart was hungry now. She had become irrepressibly drawn to this man.
Trev walked over to the cart, filled a fresh glass, and then his own. He handed hers to her. “I must be drunk,” he said, not sounding in the least inebriated. “Because I wish you and Rafe hadn’t hit it off so badly all those years ago.”
“I’m wishing that too,” Kait whispered truthfully.
He started and their gazes met and locked.
Kait gripped her drink. It was so hard to think clearly when he was standing just inches away from her, looking impossibly sexy in that turquoise sweater, his gaze frankly speculative, impossibly male, upon hers. And what
was
wrong with her? Why did being around him make her insides melt, her loins throb, her mind spin forbidden fantasies?
Worse, why was she starting to
care?
“I had better go,” she said, and heard how rough her own tone sounded.
I don’t love him.
Lana’s words echoed in her head.
“Why?” Trev asked, his voice as harsh as hers had been.
She froze, incapable of looking away from him.
“Maybe Rafe is right after all,” he said, setting his scotch down without ever taking his eyes from her.
She knew exactly what he meant. “What?”
This could not be happening....
He took her glass from her hand. She let it go. “Maybe if have you, I can get you out of my system, and think straight once again.”
This was not a good idea. She had to tell him; she had to leave. Kait actually started to turn away, but her voice escaped her now.
His large palms caught her on each hip, dangerously low.
She inhaled. “Trev—”
He swung her back around. “Don’t,” he said, clasping her buttocks firmly, intimately, and pulling her close.
Kait gasped as her pubis met his fully aroused loins.
“Don’t ruin this. Don’t talk.” He held her tight, pressed against him. “I want you, Lana. I want you the way I did when we first met. No,” he laughed derisively. “I want you a thousand times more.” Something tender crept into his rough tone. “Have I told you that I love your hair?” he whispered.
She could barely think. His hands had easily clenched each cheek, his erection ground against her hip. “No,” she meant to say, instead, she moaned.
“Don’t move,” he said harshly, and for one moment, as he slid down her body, Kait was startled and confused.
And then he was on his knees, his face pressed to her sex. Kait realized what was happening, in real shock—he was lifting her jersey dress, thumbing her through the cotton panties—and she cried out.
He slid the brief aside. His long fingers parted her private parts. “You are so wet,” he said in real surprise. “You’re already ready for me!”
Kait wanted to reply. There was one corner of her mind that was willing him to stop. But the rest of her mind was begging him to never stop touching her.
He slid his tongue around her and then he began a very skilled and sensual manipulation of her clitoris.
Her knees buckled.
She cried out.
Her fingers dug into his head, his hair.
As she fell, he caught her, never easing the delicate but insistent pressure of his mouth and tongue. Kait’s mind spun. Her body arced. She vaguely felt him spread her thighs and then as he stroked an extremely sensitive area of her buttocks, still laving her, a zillion stars exploded overhead. She shouted, “Trev,” bucking convulsively, rhythmically, spiraling up, up, and away.
Then she landed softly in clouds.
Kait regained a degree of mental coherence. She suddenly realized that she was flat on her back with her skirts thrown up to her waist, her panties gone—ripped off?—and Trev Coleman was on his belly, between her legs. Slowly, stunned, she opened her eyes and looked down at him.
In fact, Trev was not merely between her legs—he had his head propped up on his hands, and he was staring up at her, his expression strained with lust but thoroughly bewildered.
Kait opened her mouth to speak and no words came out. She thought,
Oh, my God.
“What the hell was that?” he asked very quietly.
“Wh-what?” she stammered. She started to wiggle away. His hands grasped her bare hips and she realized she wasn’t going anywhere. She began to blush and she felt it. “Please.”
“You came in ten seconds flat.”
“Were you timing me?”
“And I know you weren’t faking it. You’re soaking wet.” He was grim.
Was this a bad thing? Kait didn’t understand what he was thinking—but she knew one thing—this was not good, no matter how amazing their brief interlude had been, and she had to get up.
Because his breath was feathering her and she was swelling again.
Because desire was there, heavy and heated and demanding.
Gut constricting. “You shouted my
name
.”
Kait swallowed. “May I get up?” she asked, torn between tears and ecstasy.
“No. You shouted my
name
.” He seemed angry.
She wet her lips. “Please let me up.”
“I don’t think so,” he said, and suddenly he slid his hand over her sex, cupping her, hard. “You shout a lot of things—but not my name.”
Oh, God,
she thought, frightened.
Suddenly his fingers eased, stroked over her. Kait stiffened with a huge pang of desire and felt him shudder with the same feelings. She knew, in that moment, it was now or never.
If she didn’t get up now, they were going to make love.
“Trev,” she whispered.
His gaze shot to hers, unmasked, raw, and hungry.
Weakly, she said, “Someone might see.”
“Let them,” he said, and suddenly he was looming over her. He took her hand and pressed it over his erection; Kait inhaled sharply, loudly. He gave her an odd look, then unzipped his trousers. Only fine-spun cotton rested between her and him.
He lifted her up and nuzzled her neck.
Kait didn’t mean to, but somehow her hands were slipping into his briefs. She caught his slick, heated length in her palm and thought she might die.
Trev Coleman was magnificent, and she had never wanted any man the way she wanted him. She had wanted him insanely from the moment she had first walked through the front door of Fox Hollow. But she had been pretending all along, pretending to herself, that he did not excite and arouse her.
“Don’t stop now, baby,” he whispered.
Kait stiffened instinctively, hating being called “baby.” She was about to tell him not to call her that when he shifted, ripping off his trousers and briefs. His knees moved her thighs apart; she looked up, ready to protest, but his eyes were tightly closed, as if in utter concentration, sweat beading his brow.
Her insides flipped with gut-wrenching urgency.
“Open, babe,” he murmured roughly, “because I can’t wait. I want
in.
”
Kait felt him pressing his huge tip against her. She grabbed his shoulders, her intention, perhaps, to push him away, but she was shaking with excitement and she was so slick that the reverse occurred. She held him and her body arched uncontrollably toward him; he thrust deeply, irrevocably, into her.
Kait cried out. Not because he was huge, which he was, not because she wasn’t exactly a sex machine—it had been a long, long time since her last boyfriend, but because nothing had ever felt so perfect, so deep, so right.
Trev froze.
She felt his utter surprise then, and their gazes clashed. His eyes were wide with shock.
He knew she wasn’t Lana.
He stared at her.
He knew
.
Kait tried to think. It was impossible with him throbbing inside her. “Trev,” she began roughly.
His jaw flexed. He grabbed her by a hank of her short hair, anchoring her down. And just before he kissed her for the very first time, she met his eyes. Something was there, which she could not comprehend much less describe—she understood the astonishment, the excitement, but not the layer of emotion beneath.
And then it simply didn’t matter.
His mouth claimed hers. No soft, tentative brushing of his lips, but a greedy kiss, with him using his tongue, with him determined to somehow fuse their mouths as deeply as their bodies. As she tasted him, an emotion very much like love ballooned inside her. Bewildered, frightened, and on the brink of another explosive climax, she imagined that this was more than right—this was meant to be.
He moved, gasping with pleasure. Slowly, tentatively... long, giant thrusts. “Am I...hurting you... darling?”
“No, no,” Kait whimpered, joy surging in her veins, joining the elation, the love, the pending ecstasy.
He had called her darling....
“Don’t want...to go...too fast...,” he panted, moving so slowly, with such exquisite control, that Kait simply couldn’t stand it. “Don’t want...to hurt you...now.”
“Hurry,” she whispered, all coherent thought leaving her now as heaven beckoned her once more.
And he began to move more swiftly, driving her across the floor, inch by inch, and Kait died then, thrown up into another universe, another reality, an even deeper, brighter galaxy, clinging to his broad shoulders, while he called her darling again, begging her to hang on, just a bit longer, and even longer yet....
She held him as she floated back to earth and as he exploded, crying out hoarsely into the night, tears came to her eyes.
She held him tightly, never wanting to let go, fear flooding her—fear and guilt.
Kait was afraid that she was falling in love.
Trev Coleman moved off her.
Kait became acutely aware of the hard wood floor beneath her back—but that wasn’t half as aware as she was of what she had just done and the man lying on the floor beside her.
She had never imagined that lovemaking could be like that.
Breathless and stunned, she tugged her dress down. An image of her sister seared her mind. Lana didn’t deserve Trev Coleman, but guilt overcame her now. Lana was getting a divorce, but she hadn’t gotten one yet. Lana did not want Trev Coleman, but he was her lawful husband. Worse—Trev thought he had just made love to his wife.
Kait began to tremble. Fear filled her, and it had nothing to do with Trev discovering the truth now. While they had been making love, an emotion that felt suspiciously like love had blossomed inside her. It had been joyous, tentative, huge, fearful, and potent. And it simmered within her even now.
Kait closed her eyes, desperately trying to rationalize away her feelings. Yes, she had come to care for Trev Coleman, because he was Marni’s father, because he was her brother-in-law. Jesus. He was her brother-in-law.
What had she done?
You slept with him, that’s what you have done.
But it was even worse than that, wasn’t it?
He was the kind of man women dreamed of—handsome, wealthy, athletic, intelligent, successful, and charming. He was the kind of man she had always dreamed of. But so what? She was not falling in love with him—she simply didn’t dare!
Kait suddenly realized that he had yet to move. She glanced at him anxiously. He lay on his back, eyes closed, his breathing normal, and Kait simply knew that his mind was racing. She could feel it.
Had Trev known the moment he came inside her that she was not her sister?
Kait thought she had seen the stark comprehension in his eyes.
She was stiff with fear now. It was all too much. Making love was bad enough—falling in love was simply unacceptable. In another second he might turn to her and demand to know who she was and what she was doing, in his house, in his bed, in his life. She had to run, escape. She’d had enough of the charade she wanted to blame Lana for, but she had agreed and been a willing partner to the scheme.
Kait was staring when his head began to turn. His eyes opened. She forgot to breathe and their eyes met.
He stared at her.
She couldn’t move.
A dozen excuses tumbled to her mind, and one of them was the entire truth—a truth that included her forbidden feelings. Stricken, she watched him sit up, still in his turquoise sweater. He gave her a searing look, one she could not comprehend—was it bad? Good?—and he stepped into his briefs and trousers. Kait trembled. “Trev?”
He reached down and took her hand. “Ssh.” His smile was brief, strained. “Let’s go upstairs,” he said, pulling her to her feet.
For one moment she did not understand. “What?”
And he reeled her into his arms. “I think I’m gonna make love to you all night.”
Kait awoke and stretched deliciously—then stiffened. Reality paralyzed her.
She had no idea what time it was, but the sun was up, so it had to be seven or so. Trev’s side of the bed was empty but warm. They had last made love a couple of hours ago, finishing with dawn coloring the night sky dove gray.
She sat up, clutching the covers to her bare breasts. In the light of day, last night seemed insane. It
was
insane.
What should she do now?
She had slept with her sister’s husband, never mind that they were getting a divorce, never mind that Lana had even insinuated she wouldn’t care if Kait did such a thing, never mind that Lana had been the most faithless of wives. It was terribly wrong, and Kait wore the burden of guilt to prove it.
She shuddered.
Did last night mean he intended to reconcile with Lana?
Kait was afraid. Now, of course, she no longer wanted them to reconcile, in fact, a reconciliation would cause even more personal complications for everyone. Yet even if Trev had changed his mind about a divorce, Lana had been crystal clear the other night on the phone. Kait felt certain that she was not changing her mind, no matter what happened.
Was she falling in love and, if so, what should she do about it?
Kait attempted to explore her own feelings, but it was impossible—was so tense, she could hardly breathe. And maybe that was for the best. Because maybe she had been mistaken by her emotions last night, and maybe, given some time and distance—and the fact that Lana was returning after the weekend—she would return to being her usual, very moral and uncomplicated self.
Should she tell him the truth?
Trev clearly hadn’t guessed the truth, or he would have accused her of her gross deception after their first round of lovemaking in the living room. He hadn’t said a word all night, which meant that he thought she was his wife. Kait had clearly been wrong to think otherwise. But last night changed everything from Kait’s point of view. Before, continuing her charade had been a matter of protecting both Lana and Marni. Now, to do so meant betraying Trev even more than she already had—and that was as unacceptable to her as jumping off the roof. He was a good man. He didn’t deserve another betrayal.
Kait was desperately worried and desperately frightened.
Did she dare come forward with the truth of who she was?
Kait tried to imagine his reaction. She tried to imagine him smiling in relief, pulling her into his arms, holding her tenderly and telling her that he loved her, Kait, and that he always would. In this scenario, he quickly divorced her sister and the two of them married, had more children, and lived happily ever after.
Kait was ready to throw up.
Who was she fooling? He was going to be very angry when he found out she was a little actress and a part of Lana’s grander scheme. Kait backed up. No, Trev would be furious, enraged.
Kait knew him well enough to know that.
In fact, he was going to despise her, as much as he despised Lana; he might assume her to be exactly like her twin.
And would he be very wrong? Somehow, the attempt to help her sister in a dangerous time of need had seriously backfired. Originally, Kait had been afraid for Lana, and she had wanted to help in any way that she could—now, she wished she had never agreed to masquerade as her, she wished she could go back in time and relive the past. By agreeing to cover for Lana, she had fallen in love with Marni and maybe even Trev, and if Trev ever learned the truth, he was going to hate her.
If he ever learned the truth?
Kait realized she had grave reservations now about ever telling him what had happened. Now, she was terrified that he would hate her forever for her deception. Lana had blithely said that he would eventually forgive her, but Kait knew she had been merely placating her in order to have Kait remain in her place.
Kait felt trapped. She was trapped in Lana’s lie, only now, it had become her own. And the lie had taken on a life of its own, becoming bigger, deadlier, a trap from which she could not escape. And Trev Coleman did not deserve any more lies.
She cringed inwardly. And she knew, without a doubt, that she had to tell him now, before the lie got out of hand. Before her life came to a place where she was knocking on his door and introducing herself for the very first time
after
his divorce. Before the lie became a secret that must never be revealed...
What if she lost him?
Kait was sick. She had already lost him, hadn’t she? She should have told Trev last night who she really was, before they’d had full-fledged relations. Now, there was no way out. Now, he was going to hate her when he found out the truth—if he ever did. And if he didn’t, she would live a lie for the rest of her life, and hate herself forever because of it.
He chose that moment to step out of the walk-in closet, in his jeans, paddock boots, and a black turtleneck sweater. His eyes moved instantly to her. They were hooded, wary, and cold.
Kait froze. This should be a lovers’ morning, a time of warm smiles, kisses, touches, of shared glances and happiness. But she couldn’t smile, and neither, it seemed, could he.
He nodded curtly and turned toward the door.
What was going on?
“Trev!” Kait leapt from the bed. Too late, she realized she had nothing on, worse, she didn’t know what she was doing, only that she had to speak with him now—after last night, she desperately wanted some kind of reassurance from him, which was foolish in itself.
He shifted, his eyes moving over her slim, nude body.
Kait whipped the quilt off the bed, no easy task as it was custom-made and very heavy. Too late, she knew that Lana would never be modest. But he didn’t seem to notice her odd behavior. “Good morning,” she whispered uneasily. The look in his eyes scared her now completely. Why was he so cold? As if last night meant nothing?
“Do you want to speak to me?” he asked, glancing at his watch, as if now that the spectacular and impossibly sensual night was over he had no time to waste on her.
And it hurt. It felt like an arrow to the heart, when it shouldn’t—because he thought her to be Lana. “Have I done something?” she managed cautiously. Why was he behaving as if last night had never happened?
He glanced up, his gaze impossible to read. “I don’t know. You tell me?”
She gripped the quilt so hard that her fingers ached. Was this a new game, of cat and mouse? Or was she reading something into his words out of her guilt and fear? “I thought-I thought that maybe, since last night, we...” She had to stop. “We” what? Lana had no intention of reconciling, and she no longer wanted her sister to do so either. But had he changed his mind about the divorce?
And surely, for now, there could be a truce, a partnership, even friendship.
His eyes widened mockingly. “You thought what? That we’d make up and live happily ever after? It was just sex, for God’s sake. Good
sex, I’ll admit that, but let’s not paint the kettle white, okay? I want to have breakfast with Marni.” He turned, striding across the room.
Kait was stunned. And while she was relieved that his feelings for Lana hadn’t changed, she was also dismayed. After all, she, Kait, had been in bed with him all night, worshiping his body, giving him every ounce of her love. She ran after him, dragging the huge quilt and stumbling over it. With one hand, she grabbed his wrist, with the other, she managed to keep the quilt covering the front of her body. “I can’t believe you’re behaving this way,” she cried. Last night, he had touched and held her as if he actually loved her, too.
Or was she so inexperienced that she couldn’t tell the difference between raw sex and lovemaking?
“What way? Oh, wait, you mean you can’t believe you don’t have your hooks in me? Well, think again, because you don’t.” His smile was mirthless.
Kait was speechless. She finally managed a coherent sentence. “No. I thought that maybe we could be friends now.”
He stared grimly at her. It was a long moment before he spoke. “We slept together. Big deal. It wasn’t the first time and it probably won’t be the last. I am not going to trust you—and since when did you decide you want to be my friend?”
Kait recoiled, blinking through her rising tears. Yes, the task ahead of her was now impossible. They would never be friends—or anything more. “I don’t want to fight anymore,” she whispered roughly. She found a core of inner strength then. “I will not fight with you, Trev.”
“I don’t want to fight anymore either. I only want to divorce.” He stared coldly at her.
It hurt. Even if she wasn’t Lana, because he was speaking to her, Kait, the woman he had just made love to all night. But it hadn’t been lovemaking. He had said so himself. It had been sex. Good sex—not even great sex. “We have to talk,” she said hoarsely.
“We do? Now what could you possibly have to say to me, now, after last night?” One dark brow lifted.
This was it
. She simply had to tell him that she was Lana’s twin and covering for her. It was that, or get in so deep that there was no way out, not ever. But what about Marni?
Hadn’t she decided to continue her charade for Marni’s ultimate protection?
And then it struck her, hard. He was going to hate her even more than he hated Lana for such a monstrous deception on her part.
“Let me guess. You’ve changed. You’re no longer a calculating, selfish bitch. Six years of lies and adultery don’t count. You’ve seen the light! Somehow, you’ve become a different woman—kind, vulnerable, honest. A woman who’s been thoroughly miscast and is now being thoroughly misjudged?” His gaze narrowed. “How am I doing?”
Did he know after all? And was that why he was so angry with her? Kait stared, forgetting to breathe—he stared back, as motionless as she.
She finally said, unsteadily, “I hope I have changed. I think I have. I regret—”
“You know what?” he said sharply, cutting her off. “I am so tired of the bullshit, of the games. I am tired of
your
games. I have no idea why you started this one, but this time, I’ve really had it.” He gripped the door and their gazes locked—and Kait knew she wasn’t ever going to be able to tell him the truth. “Last night was good, but as far as I’m concerned, it was good-bye.” He stalked out, slamming the door in her face.
He knows, a tiny voice whispered tauntingly in her head.
He can’t know, because he would have said something, the different, stronger voice answered, more firmly.
Kait wasn’t sure that it mattered. She had never felt so miserable, so crushed, and somehow she had gotten her heart broken after all.
By a man who hadn’t ever loved her in the first place—by a man who didn’t even know she existed.
Trev was not in the kitchen by the time Kait came downstairs, clad in her new faded Levi’s, a baby-blue cotton pullover, and polished paddock boots. Sam was blending up one of her healthy drinks, this concoction pink. Marni was fooling around with Frosted Flakes, and Elizabeth stood by the sink, a piece of buttered toast in her hand. Marni shrieked with pleasure as Kait walked into the bright, airy kitchen. “Mommy, Mommy! You slept late! Like before! Daddy said not to disturb you,” she cried.