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Authors: Pamela Tyner

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BOOK: Protecting Tricia
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Well, why don’t you leave? Then you wouldn’t have to
listen to it.

Yes, that was the perfect solution. She got up to head for
the bedroom. As she walked past him an idea crept into her mind, causing her to
pause mid-stride.

Don’t do it.

She mentally slapped a piece of masking tape on the
irritating little voice screaming inside her head and did it anyway.

She leaned close to Clint’s ear, which also resulted in her
mouth being mere inches from the receiver, where she knew her words would not
be missed by the caller.

“I’m going to bed now, honey. Make sure you don’t make me
wait too long. It gets awful lonely in there by myself.”

With a self-satisfied smirk, she straightened, but before
she could take a step, Clint’s hand shot out to grab her wrist. When their
gazes collided, his eyes were hard and angry.

“I’ve got to go now, sweetie,” he said into the phone. “I’ll
call you in a few days. Daddy loves you.”

Without breaking eye contact with her, he disconnected the
call and tossed the phone on the couch.

“I hope you’re happy. My daughter is now innocently telling
her mother that Daddy had to hang up so he could keep some woman company in
bed. As if my ex doesn’t make my life miserable enough, you have now given her
yet another reason to drag my ass back into court.” Although his tone was calm,
fury blazed in his eyes.

“That’s ridiculous. She can’t take you to court over
something like that.”

He stood, still maintaining his hold on her wrist. “She
will. She may not win, but she’ll do it. She’ll argue that since I’m obviously
parading women in and out of my house, it’s not the proper environment for a
small child. And therefore, the issue of my visitation rights needs to be
readdressed. Even if she loses, she wins. Because she’ll have cost me more
money and time than I can afford to lose.”

“I’m sorry,” she squeaked out, wishing she could go back in
time and undo her actions.

“You should be.”

He released her wrist and a millisecond later swung her up
in his arms.

“What are you doing?” she gasped as he headed down the
hallway with her cradled against his chest.

“Well, honey, I’m taking you to bed. And I’ll be staying to
make damn sure you’re not lonely.”

Chapter 9

 

Tricia had been so startled by Clint’s actions that they
were halfway down the hall before she finally managed to speak. “Put me down,”
she ordered, pushing against his shoulders.

“All I’m doing is giving you exactly what you asked for,”
Clint said between clenched teeth.

He faced straight ahead and continued marching toward his
destination. She searched his face for any signs of retreat but found none. His
expression was hardened, his eyes angry as he turned and entered the bedroom.

She shook her head in denial. “No,” she said firmly.

He looked down to meet her gaze. “No?” His brow rose. “But
that’s not what you said, honey. You said you wanted to go to bed.”

Standing over the bed, he dropped her. She bounced when she
hit the mattress, the springs creaking in protest.

“You also said you wanted me to keep you company so you
wouldn’t be lonely.”

Yes, those had been her exact words.

Bracing his hands on either side of her body, he leaned
close, his mouth mere inches from hers. “I’d never be able to live with myself
if I knew I had the power to give you what you wanted, but I failed to do it.”
As he spoke, his breath fluttered across her mouth.

She moistened her dry lips with her tongue.

He drew back slightly, and their eyes met briefly before his
gaze dropped to her mouth. “Lips a little dry?”

They were parched.

She was certain he would attempt to remedy the situation and
didn’t find the idea entirely unpleasant. The kiss they’d shared the previous
night had only served as a reminder of just how skilled his mouth was. She
quivered as she imagined his tongue easing between her lips which were now
parted in anticipation.

His gaze returned to her eyes. “I’m afraid I can’t help you
with that. After all, I did promise not to touch that part of your body again,
unless you specifically asked me to.”

How was it possible to simultaneously feel both disappointment
and relief? Damn it, she had wanted to feel his mouth on hers. But at the same
time, the logical side of her brain urged her to avoid it at all cost. Physical
contact with Clint was a dangerous thing. His touch always resulted in every
rational thought flying from her head.

His lips curved up into a smile. “However, that’s the
only
part of your body I promised not to touch.”

At his implication, she drew in a deep breath of air, both
hopeful and worried that he’d follow through on his threat.

“Any other part of your body you need a little help with?”

She shook her head.

“Are you sure? Is there anything at all I can do to make you
a little more comfortable or at ease? Because God knows I haven’t done enough,”
he said, his words dripping with sarcasm.

She tried to rise to brace herself on her elbows, but he
refused to budge, and all she accomplished was pressing her chest against his.
Giving up, she returned to a prone position.

“You’ve done plenty. More than enough. And I appreciate it,
I really do.”

He shook his head. “Now honey, I know you’re just trying to
make me feel better. I realize I’ve been neglectful, that I haven’t satisfied
every single one of your needs and desires. And I’m determined to do something
to fix it.”

He planted one knee in the mattress next to her hip and
swung his other leg over her body so he was straddling her.

From a distance came the sound of a ringing phone. Over and
over it rang in the background as they stared at each other.

“You should answer that,” she whispered. “It might be
important.”

“Nah. It’s just my ex. She’ll call back. She knows I’m
busy,” he said with a wink.

Tricia closed her eyes. She had created an enormous problem
for him all because she couldn’t keep her mouth shut. Because she’d been… As
much as she hated to admit it, she’d been jealous.

She opened her eyes to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry,” she said
softly.

“Don’t give it a second thought. After all, everyone in town
thinks we’re lovers, why not make it everyone in the world?”

He brushed his hand against her side. Startled by the
contact, her body jerked in reflex.

“A little jumpy. What you need is something to help you
relax a bit. Let’s see…” His brow wrinkled in thought. “How can we accomplish
that?”

His hand grazed a path up her side, past her ribs, the swell
of her breast. Holding her breath, she concentrated intently on remaining
still. With great care, he pulled apart the edges of her shirt and brushed a
fingertip over the top of her cleavage. She tried, but couldn’t contain the
gasp that escaped her mouth.

“You might be more comfortable, better able to relax, if we
got you out of these clothes.” He held her gaze as he eased open the top two
buttons of her shirt.

Glancing down, he trailed a fingertip over the lacy edge of
her bra. He raised his gaze and looked deeply into her eyes. Gently, he brushed
a strand of hair away from her face.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered.

Amazing how his voice, which had started out cold and angry,
had now become soft and coaxing. His touch had changed from firm and possessive
to loose and gentle.

Lowering his head, he planted a soft kiss beneath her ear.
Before she even realized what she was doing, she had stretched her neck to give
him better access. He trailed a pathway of kisses down her neck to the swell of
her breasts.

The feel of his lips against her skin ignited a fire inside
her. Of its own accord, her hand cupped the back of his head. When she became
aware the intention of the action was to press his mouth more firmly against
her, she yanked her hand away and forced herself to let it fall to the
mattress. With his thumb, he stroked one of her hardened nipples. She bit her
bottom lip to keep from moaning and clutched her hands into fists.

She practically salivated in anticipation as she waited for
the moment he would pull away the fabric of her bra and stroke her nipple with
his tongue. If he didn’t do it soon, she feared she might reach down and strip
it out of the way for him. She prayed she wouldn’t be forced to perform such a
shameless, wanton act.

“Your heart’s beating so hard I can hear it.” His lips
hovered barely above her skin, and she felt them curve into a smile.
“Excitement, maybe?” he asked, sounding incredibly pleased with himself.

Her body stiffened at the egotistical sound in his voice. In
a snap, she was jerked back to reality.

Yes, it was excitement that had her pulse pounding like a
jackhammer. To herself she would admit it, but damned if she wanted him to know
it. If he knew it, it would give him entirely too much power. Never again would
a man possess any type of power over her.

“No, you arrogant jerk, it’s fear.”

His head jolted up, his gaze colliding with hers. He had the
surprised, confused look of a man who had just been slapped and couldn’t quite
comprehend the reason behind it. “God, Tricia, I’m sorry. I thought—”

“You thought wrong.”

He swung his body off hers and sat up on the side of the
bed. Bracing his elbows on his knees, he rubbed his face with his hands.

“I’m so sorry,” he said again. Sighing heavily, he stood and
walked out of the room.

Something tugged at her heart then squeezed it in a tight
grip. What it was she didn’t know. Maybe it was the fact that he sounded so
dejected. It could have been disappointment that he hadn’t finished the task
he’d started. But she suspected the real culprit was guilt. Clint hadn’t
thought incorrectly, yet she had laid all the blame right at his feet.

* * * *

An hour later, Clint lay in bed, hands clasped behind his
head, staring at the ceiling. He hadn’t meant to carry things as far as he had.
Initially, he’d only intended, had only wanted, to make her squirm a bit. But
when she had softened beneath him, when the resistance had disappeared to be
replaced with what he thought was surrender, he’d gotten caught up in the heat
of it.

Obviously, he had been badly mistaken. It was clear she had
no intention of surrendering to him. He felt like scum for not realizing it
sooner, for not stopping sooner.

At the sound of movement in the hallway, he glanced at the
door. From the direction of the noise, he knew Tricia was leaving the bedroom.
Her footsteps got further away, telling him that she was traveling down the
hallway toward the living room.

He stared back up at the ceiling and wondered where she was
going. He didn’t think she was in any danger, her footsteps had been light. It
wasn’t the sound of someone being dragged away against their will.
Nevertheless, the events of the previous night had him concerned about what
might happen if Matt did find her, if he somehow managed to sneak into the
house in the middle of the night.

Then again, there was always the possibility he had pissed
her off enough that she planned to simply leave, to take off walking. She’d
have to walk for miles before she reached another house, even further before
she reached a store. All alone, in the dark, totally unprotected against
whatever dangers she might encounter.

With a sigh, he got up, tugged on a pair of jeans, and
slipped into the hall. When he reached the living room, he discovered the front
door was wide open. He walked to the window, pushed the curtain back, and
peeked outside to see Tricia sitting on the front porch swing. Her elbow was
propped on the back of the swing, her chin cupped in her hand. She had one leg
tucked underneath her and with her other foot she pushed the swing slightly
back and forth.

He stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans, leaned a
shoulder against the wall, and watched her staring off into the distance. What
was she thinking? He nearly snorted out loud at the thought. No doubt she was
thinking about what a jerk he was.

And he had indeed been a first-class jerk. He’d been
controlling and demanding, making decisions for her and forcing her to comply.

Little better than Matt.
He shuddered at the thought.
It was insulting, repulsive, and completely accurate.

Pushing himself off the wall, he returned to his bedroom and
dug through one of his drawers to retrieve a set of keys. Shoving them in his
pocket, he went to the kitchen and took two bottles of beer from the refrigerator.

When he opened the screen door, Tricia glanced over in his
direction. He held one of the bottles out for her. “Peace offering,” he said.

She took the bottle with a smile. It was a small one, and
half-hearted at best, but he was grateful for what he could get. “I accept.”

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

She shrugged. “We both did things tonight we shouldn’t have.
But what I did will have a lot more repercussions.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle. But what
I
did...it was
just wrong. I hope you can forgive me.”

She nodded slightly. “Let’s forget it ever happened.”

He reached inside his pocket, pulled out the keys, and
dangled them in front of her. She stared at them for a moment before taking
them from his hand and looking at him questioningly.

“I wish you would stay until Matt leaves,” he said. “But I
won’t force you to.”

“And about David?”

Clint shrugged. “I won’t talk to him. That’s your decision
to make. Although I think you’re making the wrong one.”

“Thank you.” Tricia shifted and shoved the keys in the
pocket of her jeans.

Clint crossed the porch and took a seat on the top step.

“You were right,” Tricia said.

Clint looked over at her. “About what?”

“It was excitement, not fear, that had my heart pounding. I
tried to shift the blame because I was irritated that you’re still able to…excite
me.”

“I see,” Clint said after a moment. At least now he didn’t
feel like a complete jackass, although it certainly didn’t please him to know
that the thought of being aroused by him angered her so much.

“I’m sorry.”

He lifted a shoulder. “It’s okay. Thank you for telling me.”
He stretched his legs out in front of him and stared off into the darkness.
“You know, it’s probably not a good idea for you to be out here alone in the
middle of the night.”

“I couldn’t sleep. Besides, I didn’t break the agreement.
I’m within shouting distance.”

He twisted the cap off his bottle and took a long drink.

“It’s peaceful out here,” Tricia said. “When I was little I
used to sit out on the front porch with my dad every night after dinner. He
always claimed it was the best place in the world to think and figure things
out.”

He glanced her way. “So, you figure anything out yet?”

“Only that my life’s a mess. And that’s pretty obvious, so I
didn’t have to work hard to figure that out.” She took a swallow of her beer
and then gestured toward him with the bottle. “And that you need a rocking
chair out here.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. We used to have an old rocking chair on our porch.”

“I remember,” he interjected.

“I’m not surprised,” she muttered with a slight shake of her
head. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Anyway, my mom always said
she hated that chair, but every single time she went out on the porch that was
where she sat. She claimed she only did it out of habit, because I’d forced her
to sit in it so much when I was a baby. Apparently, I’d sleep all day and then
stay up all night crying. And the only thing that would make me stop crying was
for them to rock me in that rocking chair.” She paused, took another sip of
beer. “So they’d rock me all night long. They took shifts, one would sleep
while the other would rock. But the chair squeaked, so even when it was her
turn to sleep she couldn’t because of the noise.”

The moon was full, and her face was bathed in its light.
Clint watched her as she spoke. She had the soft glow of a person reliving a
happy memory.

BOOK: Protecting Tricia
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