Kristi Gold - Hotel Marchand 04 (11 page)

Maybe he’d come on too strong, had been too insistent. Maybe he should just leave and go back to the hotel. But he knew he wasn’t going to leave until she booted him out on his ass, figuratively speaking.

He’d have to take it easy, take it slowly, which was fine by him. The last time they’d been in this situation, everything had been too fast and too furious. Not that he had any real complaints. But this time, he wanted to take his time. He wanted to savor every moment, remember every detail. Provided they even arrived at that point.

“It’s starting to rain,” Renee said from the window where she’d been standing since they’d arrived at her apartment. “I’ll check the weather reports.”

She turned and removed her cap, then slipped the band away before shaking out her hair. If she kept that up, Pete was in danger of losing any semblance of control.

He removed his jacket and draped it on the back of the sofa, then swiped his cap off his head and tossed it on the table. Renee snatched up the remote control, powered on the TV and rapidly flipped through the channels before pausing at the local weather station. “Twenty percent chance? Ha! They missed that one. Perhaps I should call the station and tell them to look outside.”

As she continued a running commentary about the weatherman’s incompetence, Pete rounded the table, moved behind her and slid his arms around her waist.

“Are you always this enthralled by the weather, or are you nervous about something?”

“Of course I’m not nervous. Why would I be?” She sent him an acerbic look over one shoulder before channel-surfing again.

“Give me that before you kill it.” He reached around her, tugged the remote from her grasp and laid it on the table behind him. Taking her by the shoulders, he turned her around to face him. “It’s just me, and we’ve been here before.”

For Renee, that was the problem. Her anxiety stemmed from knowing that once she crossed the portal from fantasizing about this moment into the realm of reality, she couldn’t turn back. “Okay. Maybe I am a little anxious.”

He rubbed his hands up and down her arms, and even the thick sweater couldn’t block out the sensations. “I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

That sent her chin up a notch, relaying the message that she wasn’t totally powerless. “You should know by now that I don’t do anything I’m not one-hundred-percent sure about.”

“Come here.” Taking her by the hand, he led her to the sofa and pulled her down beside him. “Now relax and tell me what’s bothering you.”

She leaned forward, untied her shoes and toed out of them before tugging off her socks. “If I must.”

“And since we’re getting comfortable…” He made quick work of removing his own shoes and set them aside before leaning back on the sofa.

She pointed at the boots that had been an integral part of her memories of their last lovemaking. “How long have you had those things?”

“About ten years. I consider them my lucky boots.”

“Are you hoping to get lucky tonight?”

He draped one arm over the back of the sofa and took her hand into his. “I consider spending time with you damn lucky.”

He was determined to wear her down with sweet words. And it was working, which was evident when she relaxed against him and sighed. He made no move to kiss her or to touch her aside from rubbing his thumb along her wrist, calling up memories of his touch that morning.

“It’s different, isn’t it?” he said after a time.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” She knew exactly what he meant.

“Different from the last time we were together. We barely got into the door before the clothes started flying.”

An image flashed in her mind of uncontrollable heat, reckless abandon. “You pinned me against the wall.”

He released her hand and twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. “I don’t remember you putting up much of a fight.”

She’d had no fight in her that long-ago night. She had little left right now. “That’s true. But I do remember coming away with a few bruises.”

“And I had a few souvenir scratches, too.”

She tipped her head back and released a shaky laugh. “We knocked that picture off the wall. I didn’t even notice it until the next morning.”

“I didn’t notice anything but you. The way you looked when we totally lost it. God, you were beautiful. You still are.”

Renee was on the verge of losing it now as he brought her mouth to his. This she could never forget, the masterful kiss that would quickly set her on a course of ruination. Not in the traditional sense of destroying her reputation; she was well beyond worrying about that. But ruining her for other men, exactly what he’d done three years before. Why else would a healthy woman approaching her sexual prime remain celibate for so long?

In a matter of moments, they were past the point of talking, parting only to take a momentary breath. They were well beyond all the arguments of why this might be a mistake, at least that’s how it was with Renee. But she couldn’t mistake the way Pete made her feel, the way he could so easily unearth all that made her a sexual being. Particularly when he worked his palm between her jean-covered thighs. When he applied gentle pressure, he effectively tripped the switch that lowered what was left of her resistance. Elicited a burning heat and dampness, as well as a soft, guttural sound from deep within her throat.

Renee mustered enough strength to pull away. To tell him what he needed to know to take this to the next step, where nothing stood between them. No clothes. No debate. No regrets. “I’m not nervous anymore.”

He managed a half smile. “I’d already figured that out.”

When he tried to take his hand away, she released an all-out groan. “Do you want it here?” he asked.

A ragged breath left her mouth in a rush. “I don’t care where. I just
want
it.”

He went to his feet and stared down at her. “This time, we’re going to the bedroom first.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “The way I’m feeling, the coffee table’s in danger of getting initiated if we don’t go right now.”

Who was she to argue? Taking his extended hand, Renee led him through the kitchen and into her bedroom. The parted curtains revealed the deluge that had arrived, the raindrops pounding the paned glass, seeming to keep time with her runaway heart.

Pete pulled her to a stop at the end of the bed, dragged her sweater up and over her head, leaving her clad only in corduroys and the blue satin bra that matched the panties she wore. The underwear she had selected for him, although she hadn’t wanted to admit that. But she admitted it now—she’d known all along it would come to this.

She worked the buttons on his flannel shirt with surprising dexterity for a woman who was on the brink of buckling where she stood. After she slid it off his shoulders, he jerked his T-shirt off, balled it up and hurled it across the room.

Grabbing the brief window of time when she could be in control, Renee guided her hands down his chest. She loved the feel of the hard planes beneath her palms, the dusting of hair, the way his abdomen tightened when she raked her nails across it. She loved his slight tremor when she opened his fly, loved that “so happy to see you” state, his inability to hide his own need. Perhaps hers wasn’t exactly obvious, but he would know how much she needed him the moment he touched her again, without any barriers.

For now, the power had shifted to her, and she was intent on taking advantage—until he clasped her wrist before she had the chance to do a more intimate investigation. “You still on the pill?” he asked.

She risked a glance at his dark eyes. “Yes. Are you still healthy?”

“Yeah.” He dropped his arms to his sides. “You’re welcome to find out exactly how healthy I am.”

And she did as she touched him beneath his boxers, explored him thoroughly, the way she’d wanted—and hadn’t—this morning. She watched his reaction, saw his struggle, sensed that at any moment, he would stop her.

Her instincts didn’t fail her. Without any warning, he scooped her into his arms, deposited her on the bed then quickly relieved her of the pants, leaving her dressed in only her panties and bra.

When Pete continued to stand by the side of the bed, sizing her up, Renee frowned. “Are you going to come here, or do I have to drag you by that gorgeous hair of yours?” She had just enough adrenaline on board to manage that.

He rubbed his chin, as he often did while concentrating. “I’m trying to decide what I’m going to do to you.”

“Do I get to vote?”

“You can tell me if you don’t like it, but believe me, you’re not going to have to do that.”

Still he remained in place, raking his gaze down her body and back up again until she squirmed slightly. “You’re teasing me, Pete.”

“Not yet, but that’s a possibility.”

And continue to tease her he did, first by pulling off his socks, then by slowly, agonizingly lowering his jeans and boxers before he kicked out of them.

Even at forty-two, Pete Traynor was phenomenal. He sported a few character lines around his eyes, but that didn’t detract from his gorgeous face. He’d always prided himself on staying in shape, and that commitment showed in his incredible body’s definition. He could have easily found success on the other side of the camera, taking his place among distinguished actors with names like Redford and Gibson. He could have won the hearts of countless women throughout the world, the way he’d claimed hers from the first time she’d met him.

Finally he levered one knee on the mattress, pulled her up and reached behind her. “This has got to go.” As soon as he said it, he did it, relieving her of the bra with little effort and sending it across the room like a satin slingshot. “Now lie back.”

After Renee collapsed onto the pillows, he removed her panties slowly, visually following the downward trek while she observed him, her thoughts disappearing in the erotic fog.

He tossed the panties behind him and smiled. “That’s better. And you’re still as beautiful as I remembered.”

He braced both hands at her sides and leaned to kiss her, deeply, methodically, gently. He touched her face, studied her eyes for a long moment. “I’m going to make up for lost time, and I’m going to make you feel so damn good you’re not going to know what hit you.”

Renee drew in a broken breath. “Promise?”

“You bet.”

He kept that promise with the sweep of his hand over her body. With the exactness of a man who’d had a lot of practice. He kept her on edge with open-mouth kisses on her breasts, and when he drifted down to her belly, he paused to rest his chin below her navel. “Do I have your vote to continue?”

“I think you’ve earned it.” She knew he had.

And what a campaign it was—a campaign to drive her mad in a very good way. He had an incredibly clever mouth, and used it to supreme advantage. By the time he was through, Renee truly didn’t know what had hit her, aside from a climax that left her weak and windless. But she wasn’t so wasted that she didn’t reach for him, didn’t appreciate him sliding up her body, easing inside her.

He moved in a steady tempo before the unrestrained pace they’d known before took over. Renee never dreamed she would be here again, experiencing his strength, his expertise, the sensations that he so easily uncovered in her. Although she had wonderful memories of the last time they’d been together, the recollections couldn’t do justice to the real thing, when nothing mattered aside from these moments. Not the past. Not the recriminations. Not the resentment that she once felt toward him.

He kept his gaze connected with hers, kept her in a state of complete mindlessness. Yet she could see the strain in his face, the battle he fought to hold on a little longer, until he lost that battle with a deep shudder and a low groan before collapsing against her.

As she held him securely in her arms, Renee wanted to say something. She needed to tell him that she had no qualms about their lovemaking. “Welcome back,” she whispered.

He raised his head from her shoulder and smiled. “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.”

And Renee wouldn’t want him to be anywhere else. When she should be planning how to tell him goodbye, she found herself wishing for more of the same. More of him.

One thing was certain—Pete Traynor could still move her in ways she’d never been moved before by any man. He could still charm her with his wit, fascinate her with his mind, soften her control with his sensual mastery. None of that had changed in three long, lonely years.

And to Renee, that was the most dangerous part of all.

E
VEN AFTER MAKING LOVE
to her twice in the past few hours, he’d be damned if he still didn’t want her. Even when she was doing something as innocuous as rummaging through the refrigerator.

The fact that Renee was dressed in a short robe that allowed Pete a banner view of the backs of her thighs didn’t help matters any. Neither did seeing her hair damp and sensually mussed. Hell, even her bare feet looked sexy. But he hadn’t sought her out solely for a repeat performance. He had things he needed to say, although he didn’t know exactly what he would say. Or how he would say it. Funny, he’d always been good at urging actors to display more emotion during scenes, to bring it from the gut, make the audience feel something. Unfortunately, he wasn’t good at following his own directions.

He moved a little closer, fighting the temptation to run his hands beneath that robe and take her right there, in the kitchen, maybe backed up against the counter. On the counter. And if he didn’t stop playing the avoidance game, he’d never get anything out.

“What are you looking for in there?” he asked.

Renee bent and opened a storage bin without looking back at him. “I thought since we hadn’t had any dinner, I’d make something.”

“I hadn’t thought about dinner.” He’d only thought about her.

“Did you enjoy your shower?” she asked without straightening.

He moved immediately behind her, in spite of the risk. “Not nearly as much as I did when you were in there with me.”

She pulled a head of romaine from the drawer and handed it to him over her shoulder. “And if I hadn’t left when I did, we were both in danger of shriveling up completely.”

“Not much chance of that happening, at least not where I’m concerned.” And that was all too apparent beneath his jeans.

Pete’s patience began to wane when she continued to pass him vegetables, and by the time he took the cucumber from her, he was close to the edge. Close to pulling her out of the refrigerator and kissing her until he had her complete attention. “Mind stopping what you’re doing so I can quit talking to your back?”

“Just a minute. I’m still trying to decide what to add to the salad to give it more substance.”

If he didn’t distract her soon, he’d lose what was left of his nerve. “By the way, I used your razor to shave.”

She turned, clutching a bottle of dressing and a package of cheese to her chest. “You didn’t….” She smiled, a wry one. “No, you didn’t. Or if you did, then it must have been a very dull blade.”

He raked a hand over his evening stubble. “Nope, I didn’t use your razor.”

“Then why did you say that you did?”

“Because I learned a long time ago that women consider their razors sacred. I figured that might be the only way to get your attention. Although I did consider a few other ways.”

She set the cheese and dressing on the island counter next to the pile Pete had made of the vegetables. “Why, Mr. Traynor, I do believe you are insatiable.”

Insane would be more like it at the moment. And a coward.
Just get it over with
,
Traynor
. “I have a few things I need to say to you.”

“This sounds serious.” She yanked the lettuce and a colander from the counter, took them both to the sink and turned on the faucet. “Go ahead. I can wash and listen at the same time.”

Again she had her back to him, and again he moved behind her. When she opened the cabinet to her right to retrieve a large red bowl, he snatched it away and set it down hard on the counter. He clasped her shoulders, turned her around and saw something akin to apprehension in her eyes. Apparently she was concerned over the subject of the conversation. That made two of them. He had no idea how she would react, but he wouldn’t know until he spilled it.

“I don’t care about dinner right now,” he said. “I’m in the mood to talk, and that doesn’t happen often, so I suggest we take advantage of it.”

“Okay. Talk.”

“Don’t look so worried,” he said as he smoothed a random strand of hair from her cheek.

She tried to display some bravado by lifting her chin, although she couldn’t mask the wariness in her eyes. “I’m not worried. I’m curious.”

He’d fired crew, cussed producers and walked out during a shoot when things weren’t going his way. He’d practically raised a child without any previous experience. But this could well be the hardest thing he’d ever done. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About us. Specifically about what happened to us before. And I’ve come to a couple of conclusions.”

“I’m not sure I want to hear this.”

“You’re going to hear it anyway.” He planted his hands on the counter on either side of her and lowered his head. “Damn, I’m no good at this.”

“Pete, just say it and get it over with.”

After a brief hesitation, he finally looked at her. “I’ve started to realize why I didn’t call you in three years.”

“You’ve already told me. You had to help out with Adam.”

“In part, that was true.” But only in part, and that was the crux of the matter. “In reality, I was afraid.” Okay, he’d said it, and the ceiling hadn’t fallen in on him.

She laid a hand right above the robe’s opening. “Afraid of me?”

“Afraid I’d hurt you.”

“But you did that by not staying in touch.”

He was surprised she’d admitted that. But he wasn’t surprised by the bite of guilt gnawing at him. “I know, and I’m sorry.” He slid his arms around her waist. “But I’m not afraid anymore. And now I know that I—”

The shrill ring coming from the cell phone nearby effectively cut into his confession.

“Don’t answer that,” he said.

“I have to. It’s probably Melanie. I talked to her while you were showering. I made her promise to call once she and the kids got back to her apartment so Adam could tell you good night.”

Adam. Again he’d forgotten about his nephew, and that wasn’t acceptable. He stepped back and gestured toward the phone. “Go ahead and answer. I’ll finish later.”

She quickly grabbed the cell and flipped it open. “Hey, Melanie.”

As a stretch of silence followed, Pete watched Renee’s expression turn somber immediately before she said, “Oh, God.”

A wide range of possibilities zipped through Pete’s mind as Renee continued the conversation, none of them good. His gut told him bad news was on the horizon, but he wouldn’t let himself believe it involved his nephew.

“Where? Okay. We’ll be there as soon as possible.”

Renee flipped the phone closed and kept it clutched tightly in her hand. When she looked as if she wasn’t sure what to say, Pete asked, “What’s wrong?”

“We have to go to the hospital.”

Exactly what he’d feared. He tried to temper his tone, stay composed for Renee. “What’s happened?”

“There’s been an accident.”

A
RMED WITH VERY FEW DETAILS
, Renee sped into the hospital lot and barely put the car in Park before Pete tore out the door. She followed closely behind him as he strode into the emergency room and immediately approached the desk. “Adam Turnbow. Where is he?”

The diminutive clerk behind the counter seemed to shrink into her chair. “He’s back with the doctor now. Have a seat and someone will come get you in a moment.”

“Like hell they will.” Before Renee could stop him, Pete spun from the counter, sprinted to the entry door and rattled the knob—only to find it locked. He slammed his palm against the facing twice, then released a curse while Renee looked on helplessly. She didn’t plan to remain helpless for long.

After glancing at the clerk’s nametag, she put on her most polite smile. “Ms. Rawlings, Mr. Traynor is Adam’s uncle. He’s very upset right now and he needs to see his nephew. And I’m sure his nephew needs to see him, too. So if you’ll please unlock the door, I’m sure Mr. Traynor and I can find our way.”

She sighed. “Okay, but please make sure he doesn’t cause any trouble, otherwise I’ll be in trouble.”

“I promise I’ll keep him calm.” A promise Renee hoped she could live up to.

The buzzer sounded, and when Pete tested the handle, this time it opened. As they entered a lengthy hallway, the overpowering scent of antiseptic caused Renee’s stomach to pitch. The nausea only grew worse when they rounded the corner and she spotted her baby sister standing at the nurse’s station. Melanie always looked younger than her twenty-nine years, but this evening with her ponytail askew, her face free of makeup, she looked liked a teenager.

When she spotted Renee, she opened her arms wide. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

After giving her a hug, Renee took a step back and surveyed her from head to toe. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. A little shook up and I have a sore neck, but otherwise I’m not hurt.”

“Where’s Adam?” Pete asked, his voice hinting at both fear and frustration.

Melanie laid a hand on his arm and gave him a sympathetic look. “The doctor’s with him now. He’s going to be okay.”

Pete forked a hand through his hair. “I want to see for myself.”

Melanie pointed down the hall. “Room four.”

Pete rushed away without further comment, leaving Renee and Melanie alone in the corridor. Renee wanted to follow him, to make sure he was okay, or as okay as he could be. Instead, she chose to stay and ask some pertinent questions. “What happened, Melanie?”

“It was awful, Renee. After he got off work, Luc offered to drive me, Adam and Daisy Rose to my apartment because it was raining, and then it happened. The crash, the kids crying, it was horrible.”

Renee swallowed hard. “Are the kids okay?”

“Not a scratch on Daisy Rose. Unfortunately, Adam was behind me. The other car slammed into the back passenger door. He took most of the impact.”

Renee briefly covered her mouth with her hand to hide the sharp intake of breath. “But he’s not seriously injured?”

“A broken arm, but nothing more serious than that as far as they can tell, although that’s bad enough for a four-year-old.”

Renee couldn’t begin to imagine what Pete was feeling now, seeing his nephew in pain, knowing he could do little more than provide comfort. On second thought, she knew exactly how he was feeling. When her mother had had her bout with her heart a few months ago, she remembered the feeling of panic. “Who was at fault?”

“The other driver,” Melanie said. “The car ran a stop sign, and then left the scene immediately after it happened.”

Renee’s anger began to simmer beneath an artificial calm. “Did you get a good look at the car?”

Melanie shook her head. “I only remember it being black and large, and I could swear it accelerated when we drove through the intersection. But it happened so fast, I could be mistaken.”

The memory of another black sedan flashed in Renee’s mind, the one they’d seen in front of the hotel that afternoon that she assumed contained paparazzi. They could be following Adam, trying to learn his identity. If that turned out to be the case, Pete would probably blow a fuse, and he’d be justified in doing so.

Renee took both of Melanie’s hands into hers. “I’m so glad you’re all right, Mel. It could have been so much worse.”

“Fortunately we were in
Grand-mére’s
Cadillac because Luc volunteered to have it serviced for her the next morning. God love him, he was doing it as a favor for Mother. Anyway, we all know the Caddy’s the next best thing to a tank.” She smiled a little before continuing, a shaky smile. “The police officer said that since Luc managed to swerve out of the way, or as far out of the way as he could, that lessened the impact. Thank God he was driving. I’m not sure I would have been able to think or react that quickly.”

Renee wasn’t a bit surprised that Luc had saved the day. Since the moment she’d met him, he’d struck her as possessing a cool head and a surplus of honor. “Where is Luc?”

“
Mére
sent him back to the hotel. He was a mess, emotionally speaking. I think he feels responsible, even though we told him it wasn’t his fault.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him that, too.” Impatient to find Pete, Renee glanced down the hall. “Let’s go see Daisy Rose. Then I’ll go check on Adam.”

Melanie hooked her arm with Renee’s. “Right this way.”

When they arrived at the room, Melanie tugged Renee to a halt outside the door. “Just thought I’d warn you, mother’s not alone.”

“
Grand-mére’s
with her?”

“No. I didn’t want to wake
Grand-mére
. William Armstrong drove her.” Melanie hesitated a moment before adding, “I called him first and he was more than happy to drive her in, although I can’t say she’s too happy that I didn’t trust she could drive herself. But I worry about her.”

“So do I. But I also wonder if there’s a little more to Mother’s relationship with William.”

“So you really think something’s going on between them?” Melanie asked.

Renee shrugged. “She told me they’re only friends, so I’m going to take her at her word until proven otherwise.”

Melanie sighed. “Honestly, I hope there is more to it. Then she can concentrate on her own life instead of worrying about mine.”

“Only time will tell,” Renee said. And she believed that they might know sooner than later.

They entered the room to find Anne standing next to the narrow bed where Daisy Rose was seated. The little girl looked no worse for wear aside from a little redness in her eyes, indicating she’d been crying. And next to their mother stood a tall, trim man with thick silver hair and intense blue eyes.

Daisy’s expression brightened when she caught sight of Renee. “Hi, Aunt Renee. Did you come to see me?”

Renee strode to the gurney and gave her a hug. “Yes, honey, I came to see you. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’m a big girl.” She pointed to the yellow sticker centered in the middle of the pink sweatshirt that matched her miniature pink sneakers. “That’s what it says.”

Anne pushed back a few curls from Daisy’s shoulder. “She’s been a very big girl.”

Renee offered her hand to William. “I really appreciate you bringing Mother to the hospital, Mr. Armstrong.”

“It’s William,” he said with a smile. “And it’s my pleasure. I’m glad to help out Anne any way that I can.”