Rush of Innocence (Rush Series #1) (13 page)

“Good,
that’ll be nice,” she replied as she struggled with how to tell him of her
plans.

As he
took in her appearance, he saved her the preamble by saying, “I didn’t know you
were going out.”

“I…
uh…
have a date
,” she murmured.

“A date?”

“Yes.”

“With
whom?” he asked casually.

“Rush
Drayton.”

He
sat back in his chair and studied her for a long time. “How well do you know
him?”

“Well
enough,” she replied.

He
rose from his chair and stood with his back to her, staring out the window.

“What
is it?” she asked.

He
slowly shook his head.
“Nothing.”

Sighing
deeply, she said, “Just say it, Father.”

“Rush
Drayton is a dangerous man.”

“Why
do you say that?” she asked, not being able to keep the annoyance out of her
voice.

“He
can be… quite ruthless. I just want you to be careful. He’ll hurt you, you
know.”

“As
ruthless as the guy I went to junior prom with?” she asked, sarcastically.

This
time, it was her father who sighed deeply. He sat back down in his chair
heavily. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. I don’t want to see you hurt… but
that is what will happen.”

A
knock at the door saved her from answering. She turned and opened the door to
find Rush standing at ease. He smiled and grabbed her hands and pulled her to
him. Briefly, he brushed his lips against hers. “You look beautiful,” he
complimented.

“Thank
you,” she beamed. “Would you like to come in?” she asked hesitantly.

“Of
course,” he responded with a strange tightening of his lips.

She
took his hand and led him into her father’s study. Arthur Grace rose as they
entered. Rush walked to the desk and extended a hand. “Judge Grace.”

Her
father hesitated only briefly before placing his hand in Rush’s. “Mr. Drayton.”

“I
believe you knew my father,” Rush said.

“Yes,
I did.
Very well.
He was a good man. It was a shame
what happened to him.”

“Yes,
it
was
a shame. My family has
struggled for many years to overcome his loss,” Rush said quietly.

Trinity
felt the heavy undercurrents between the two men.

“How
did you know his father?” she asked.

Arthur
Grace eventually shifted his gaze from Rush to her. Clearing his throat, he
said, “We worked together in the District Attorney’s office. Blake Drayton was
an Assistant DA. I was his boss.”

She
glanced at Rush, surprised he’d never mentioned that his father had worked for hers.
Rush continued to stare at her father.

“You
would have known my mother as well,” Rush said to him.

“Yes, what a tragedy.
It had to have been so hard for you. You were what… eighteen,
nineteen?”

“I
was a freshman in college when they died. It was harder on my grandparents.
They’ve barely endured the loss,” Rush stated passionately.

Her
father sighed heavily. “I can only imagine.”

Rush
seemed to eye her father speculatively before saying, “I ran into a mutual
friend of ours recently…
Tiko
Mars. Do you remember
him? He said to tell you hello if I saw you. He’s living down in Mexico now.”

Her
father’s jaw clenched as Rush spoke. “
Tiko
Mars?”

“I
believe he worked for you also, isn’t that right?” Rush asked innocently.

“No,
I don’t think so,” her father said.

Not
liking the strange tension between the two men, Trinity cleared her throat.
“Rush, I’m ready to go when you are.”

He
stared at her father for an odd minute before shifting his gaze back to hers.
“Yes, of course. Let’s go. It was good seeing you…
Judge.
I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

“I’m
sure we will,” her father murmured.

The
restaurant Rush had chosen sat along the river’s edge. It was quiet and
elegant, its tables lit with tiny lanterns. The pensive Rush was back. Idly,
she chewed the inside of her lip as she thought about the strange conversation
between her father and Rush.

“How
did your parents die?” she asked suddenly.

He
snatched his eyes up to hers. He took a long drink before answering. “My father
was killed while in lockup. My mother apparently couldn’t live without him and
she killed herself.” He said the words so simply… almost as if it were a mere
movie script instead of his life. She swallowed against his loss and for his
pain. The image of the photograph that had been sent to her office entered her
mind and she shuddered.

“I’m
sorry,” she whispered.

He
seemed to see her… really see her for the first time since she’d opened the
front door to him. He lifted gentle fingers and ran them over her cheek. “Me,
too,” he replied in a dismissive tone as he seemed to push that conversation
away from his mind. “I’ve missed you this week. More than I thought I would,”
he said somewhat absently.

“Who’s
Tiko
Mars?” she asked.

He
blinked at her for a minute. “Nobody,” he again said dismissively. He ran his
thumb across her lower lip and studied it intently. “Come dance with me,” he
said huskily.

He
stood and led her to the dance floor. He interlaced their fingers, folded her
arms behind her back, and fitted her snuggly up against his body. He leaned his
forehead against hers and closed his eyes.

Inhaling
deeply, he murmured, “I’ve wanted to do this all week.
To be
with you… touching you… being filled with your scent.”

She
stood a little stiffly in his embrace. She was getting whiplash from his mood
swings. He opened his eyes when he felt her resistance.

“What?”
he asked.

“I
don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

He
released her hands to slide his down to her waist. “I’m sorry, but the memories
of my parents’ deaths are hard ones. Seeing your father just stirred them all
back up. I didn’t mean to ruin our night out.”

“Is
that all it is?” she asked.

“Of course.
What
else could it be?”

He
pressed his lips against hers softly, briefly… too briefly, and he exhaled
deeply. “Let’s get out of here,” he murmured against her lips.

He
threw some money on the table and they left. He drove them to his house and led
her straight through the house to his bedroom. He stripped them both quickly
and tugged her up beneath him on the king-sized bed. There was a tinge of
desperation in the way he made love to her… almost as if he was chasing away
shadows. She clung to him as he cloaked himself within the depths of her body…
searching for solace, she supposed.

She
lay for a long time, her body still wrapped around his, desperate to understand
his hidden demons. She brushed his shoulders with comforting strokes of her
hands until he fell asleep. This time it was she who stood staring out at the
night sky, wondering if she’d ever truly understand the man she was falling in
love with. He scared her. He was all-consuming and intense… and as dangerous as
her father had said. She had no doubt Rush Drayton had the power to hurt her
terribly. She wished she had the strength to just walk away.

***

The jangle of the new cellphone she’d
gotten earlier in the week woke her. She jumped up immediately and saw the
early morning light filtering through the window.
Oh no
, she’d fallen asleep. Her father was going to freak!
Snatching her cellphone out of her purse, she looked at the number – sure
enough it was her father. She glanced briefly at Rush still lying with his face
buried in his pillow. Quickly, she snatched on his shirt and slipped it over
her shoulders. Moving into the living room, she called her father back.

“Where
the hell are you?” he shouted into the phone.

She
cringed. With more bravado than she felt she said, “You know where I am.”

“This
is no way to behave, young lady. Do you sleep with every man you meet on the
first date?” he asked crudely.

“As
you were having me followed, I think you already know the answer to that
question,” she retorted.

“I
think it’s time for you to come home,” he demanded.

“I’ll
be home when I’m ready. Please don’t call unless it’s an emergency,” she said
as she clicked the phone off.

“Well
done,” a naked Rush said from the doorway. “As sexy as you look wearing my
shirt, I happen to know how hot you look wearing nothing at all. Why don’t you
come back to bed?” he offered salaciously.

She
looked at him with his massive shoulders, chiseled stomach muscles and tapered
waist, and knew who the hot one was in their relationship. She threw her
cellphone down on the couch, and with a grin she launched herself into his arms
before wrapping her legs around his waist. He laughed and swung her back around
and headed to the bedroom.

She
grinned at him from across the breakfast table.

“What?”
he asked, grinning back, as he licked juice from his fingers.

“I
like you like this,” she replied.
 

“Like
what?”

“Happy,
relaxed…”

He
gave her an odd look. “Aren’t I always?”

“No…
usually you’re… I don’t know… intense, I guess.”

He
thought about her words as he chewed on a piece of papaya. “I guess I can be
somewhat intense.”

She
smirked at his words. They ate in silence for a bit. “Tell me about your week,”
he invited. “Any more surprises?”

She
lifted her glass to her lips and sipped her juice. She contemplated him over
the rim of the glass, wondering if she should mention the picture. Her pause
caused him to lift his intense eyes to hers once more.

“What
happened,” he asked quietly.

She
shrugged her shoulders.
“Nothing, really.”

He
sighed deeply and his jaw clenched. “Just tell me.”

“The
day after the break-in, I received a bouquet of flowers at work. I… I thought
they were from you,” she said with a small smile, embarrassed.

“Who
were they from?” he asked icily.

“I
don’t know. There was an envelope buried in the flowers which contained a
photograph,” she paused and pleated the napkin by her plate.

“What
was it a picture of?”

“A
naked woman with a rope tied around her neck, dangling from something. Her head
had been cropped out of the picture, so I don’t know who the woman was. Across
the picture were the words:
This could be
you
.”

Rush
sat, staring at her for a long moment before rising to stand with his back to
her facing the window. It reminded her of her father in the same stance the
night before.

“Does
your father know about the photo?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“What
did he say?” Rush asked.

“That
I needed his protection.”

“To
which you probably said no,” he said quietly.

“I
don’t want to be under his thumb,” she said, her shoulders tight in
defensiveness.

He
turned quickly. “At the expense of your life?” he shouted.

She
jumped at his voice.

He
turned back to the window and ran a hand over his head. “Whoever sent the
flowers knows who you are… where you work… when you’re at work. I think you
should be taking this seriously. You want to act like it’s no big deal. You
might do well to consider we know what’s best for you in this regard.”

The
tension in the room was so great she jumped when his cellphone rang. He turned
from the window and picked up the phone, raking his eyes over her face as he
did. He glanced at the screen and sighed at whoever was calling.

“I
need to take this,” he said as he walked towards the study.
“
Boppa
!
Good morning. Yes, I know. I need….” His
voice faded as the door closed behind him.

She
swallowed at his words.
I think you
should be taking this seriously. You want to act like it’s no big deal
.
You might do well to consider we know what’s
best for you…
The same feelings of claustrophobia she’d felt with her
father threatened to suffocate her now.
Control.
Domination.
Regulation.
Dictatorship.
She felt the noose from the photo tightening
around her own neck.
This could be you!
She felt it already was.

She
rose and padded back to the bedroom to change from his shirt into her own
clothes. She heard him call her name, but she ignored him. While she hadn’t
heard him enter the bedroom, she felt the tingle up her spine which told her he
was in the same room. She turned her head and saw him, leaning negligently
against the jamb, dressed only in thin cotton pants which hung deliciously low
on his hips. The fact that his body still had the power to stir her even while
she simmered only infuriated her more.