The gala event, held in one of the city’s finest hotels, appeared to be sold out, with people from entertainment, fashion, and business coming together for a good cause.
The finest of New York society attended the evening in designer tuxedos, gowns, and exquisite jewelry.
Small groups gathered in the large foyer. Diana stood at Trace’s side with a ready smile in place as guests mixed and mingled. She knew they were watching her. This was her first public event as Trace’s wife. She wondered how many knew she had once been married to the John Pisano. How many knew Trace had married his deceased uncle’s widow? She sighed, peeked at Trace, and kept her smile in place.
Tall, dark, and impeccably groomed, his tuxedo a perfect fit, he looked the epitome of the powerful man. He stood out from the rest, not only for his attractive features and perfect clothing, but also for the primitive and powerful aura he released. Some women simply flirted, but a few made moves—subtle, and not so subtle—that went beyond flirting. It didn’t matter that Diana was by his side. Always insecure about her hold on him, Diana stiffened. He turned those mesmerizing eyes on her, seeing more than she wanted him to.
After greeting the last guest, his hand touched the small of her back. “Can I get you something to drink?” he asked as they moved toward the ballroom.
“Something cold but non-alcoholic,” Diana requested with a smile and watched as he signaled a hovering waiter.
Her smile disappeared when Lisa Davenport headed their way. Diana frowned at her approach. Trace turned toward the beautiful, tall woman who had once been his lover. His face wore a blank expression. Only Diana noticed the slightly irritated squint to his blue eyes as he slipped a strong arm around her waist and pulled her close.
“Lisa.” His voice was clipped as he gave the woman a pointed stare. Lisa tossed her bright blonde head and smiled the kind of sensual smile that had the power to blow most men’s libido to shreds. She went to kiss Trace on the lips; it landed on his chiseled jaw.
Lisa laughed, not at all put off by Trace’s coldness. “Trace. It’s good to see you again. We mustn’t go too long without seeing each other,” she scolded. She ignored Diana, her full attention riveted on Trace.
“Lisa, let me introduce you to my wife.”
“Your wife!” Lisa bellowed. Her eyes widened with shock. All color drained from her face. With pinched lips, she shot Diana a look of pure hatred.
“I didn’t know you had gotten married.”
“We were married a few weeks ago.”
“I’ve been in the south of France, then Morocco, with friends. No one mentioned you got married, not even your mother.” Anger vibrated in her voice while she tried to gain control.
Diana smiled.
“It was announced. But my mother has nothing to do with my marriage,” Trace said in a cold tone.
“If Crispina knew, she would have told me. She must not know about this…marriage,” she said in disgust.
“I don’t give a damn if Crispina knows or not.”
Lisa glared at Diana. “Weren’t you married to Trace’s uncle?”
“Yes, I was.” Diana stared back, unflinching. Lisa Davenport was a bitch…and one in heat. If she thought for one moment that she was going to get her husband, she had better think twice. If she wanted a fight, she would certainly get one.
“It’s a shame, darling, you had to end up with your uncle’s leftovers,” she fired at him. Diana gasped, surprised at such an open verbal attack. Trace pulled her against him to soften the blow.
“You’re treading on thin ice, Lisa. Don’t make me sorry I’m breathing the same air as you,” he said.
“Tsk, tsk. My, aren’t we protective of the little woman,” she sneered.
Diana couldn’t believe Lisa’s audacity. “I don’t need anyone to fight my battles.”
“Lisa, I heard you had the pleasure of meeting my wife before,” Trace drawled.
“No. I don’t recall.” She still didn’t look at Diana.
She prayed she didn’t explode because it wouldn’t be a pretty sight. She fought hard to rein in the anger that was vibrating through her.
“Really?” he said.
Lisa gave a slight nervous laugh and offered a convincing pout. “Darling, I can’t be expected to remember everyone I meet.”
Diana gritted her teeth. Now Lisa had amnesia.
“Well, I certainly remember you, Lisa. The first time I met you, you happened to be sprawled across Trace’s bed, naked,” Diana spit out.
“I don’t remem—”
Diana’s laugh was brittle. “Come, Lisa. You don’t remember how you demonstrated everything you and Trace had done? You described it in graphic detail.”
“I’ll not stand here and take this from her.”
“Why not?” Trace’s voice held a thread of steel. “You attack my wife but you can’t take the same?” He laughed cruelly. “You’re a piece of work, Lisa.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” she shouted.
“I want you to tell her the truth…now.” Trace’s voice held a tinge of something Diana couldn’t define. He was furious. Diana knew it, but evidently Lisa hadn’t picked up on the tone, or rather refused to acknowledge it.
“I’ll not stand here and continue to be insulted.”
“I seem to recall you got married last year to a man who is conservative and honest. I don’t believe he would like to hear the stunts you’ve pulled.”
She gasped. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.” His voice was cold and unbending. He was sufficiently ruthless to enforce the threat should he have to, and with no regret. Diana got it. It was too bad Lisa didn’t.
Lisa flattened her lips in disgust. “Nothing happened between Trace and me five years ago. I spilled a drink on my clothes and Trace let me come up to his apartment to clean the stain.”
“And…” he said with force.
“He directed me to one of the guest bathrooms. He told me he wanted to take a quick shower and head to your place. I assumed he needed to be with you.”
“Tell her the rest.” The anger vibrated in his tone.
Lisa shot him a murderous glare. “We were alone in the penthouse. I thought, why not try and get him to bed?” She dropped her voice to a seductive whisper. “He’s a fabulous lover.”
He ignored her obvious praise and growled, “Tell Diana what you did.”
“When Trace came out of shower and saw me in his bed, I know he liked what he saw. Given more time, I would have changed his mind.” Confidence oozed out of her mouth.
He looked at her in disgust. “Not on your life, Lisa. We only dated for a month, and even that was too much,” he said coldly.
“You’re a cold and heartless bastard, Trace. You use women and then discard them,” she shouted.
“You knew what type of relationship it would be. I told you going in that I didn’t do commitment,” he said.
“But you did with her,” Lisa sneered.
“I knew the first moment I saw her that I wanted her for my wife.”
Diana gasped softly.
“Well, she didn’t feel the same,” she snorted. “If she had she wouldn’t have married your uncle. Do you concur, Diana?” she asked, finally giving Diana her attention.
Bitch.
“No, I don’t. What Trace and I have can’t be duplicated.” The smirk on Lisa’s mouth did it. Diana was tired of her. It was time for her to go. “Why don’t you go find your husband, Lisa? You have become quite pathetic.”
The arrogant tilt of her head and glib smile conceded nothing as the heiress turned with a slow, deliberately sensual movement and wove her way through the crowd.
“You were telling the truth,” Diana noted quietly, relieved and, if truth be told, somewhat embarrassed. If she had been more secure in their relationship, they would have certainly stayed together, even if it were for the sake of the baby.
“And you doubted me.”
“She’s a—”
“Certifiable bitch and femme fatale,” Trace said, “who thrives on playing games with the insecure and vulnerable.”
Her chin tilted. “I’m no longer vulnerable, and I could’ve wiped the floor with her.”
He laughed. “Ah…my fierce little lioness.” He caught hold of her hand and brushed a soothing thumb over his rings that rested there. Then he lifted their joined hands to his lips and brushed hers lightly with his mouth. “You have nothing to be insecure about. I’m all yours.”
Her heart jumped and refused to settle. She didn’t move, could barely breathe. She hoped no one was watching them. She felt the press of his arousal against her thigh. It took considerable effort to focus on his face.
It was only a matter of minutes before Crispina wove through the crowd towards them.
Oh, boy. Can the night get any worse?
There was a frown on Crispina’s face, but she still resembled the perfect Southern lady. She was attired in a designer gown in stunning black and white, a straight line cut that accentuated her height. From the top of her coiffured head to the tip of her light red lacquered fingernails, she exuded class and sophistication.
“Trace, my darling.” The greeting was forced but polite. She offered her cheek to him for an obligatory air kiss. He met her halfway, pulling back before his cheek touched hers.
Uh-oh. This might be interesting.
“Hello, Mother. I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight.”
Diana shot him a quick glance. She detected a warning beneath Trace’s pleasant tone.
“I decided at the last moment.”
“Aren’t you going to speak to my wife?”
Crispina stiffened, but spared a quick look at Diana.
“Diana,” she said with pinched lips.
“Hello, Crispina,” Diana said pleasantly.
“Mother, I assume you read the papers. Aren’t you going to congratulate us on our marriage?”
“I wasn’t invited to any wedding.”
“Oh, that’s right. I deliberately left your name off the guest list.”
She ignored his off-hand rudeness. “I was in Europe when one of my friends called to tell me about it. I told her she was definitely mistaken. I didn’t believe it until I read it in the paper for myself. I’m your mother, for God’s sake. You couldn’t have the decency to tell me instead of letting me read about it as if I were a stranger?”
“Not now, Mother.”
“Is she pregnant? It’s the only reason I can see for marrying her.”
“You have overstepped the line, Mother.”
“I have overstepped?” she said, incredulous. “What do you think you’ve done? You married your uncle’s widow. The papers are having a field day with it. My friends are snickering behind my back. My only son has made me a laughingstock. I won’t stand for it.”
“We are done here.” He took a hold of Diana’s elbow and moved to pass his mother.
“I’m not finished.”
“You were finished a long time ago,” he snarled, and guided Diana out of the ballroom.
Diana didn’t look at Crispina, knowing if she did, hatred would be brewing in her eyes. She didn’t give a damn about Crispina, but she was concerned for Trace. He walked stiffly. His face was granite. A mask had covered it. She walked quietly beside him as he spoke to people who stepped in their path. It was a stop-and-go process. People were everywhere, and Trace was recognizable to all of them. There were many congratulatory comments on their marriage. Whether genuine or not, Diana couldn’t tell, but, like Trace, she took it all in stride.
“Trace, you can’t leave. You’re a board member,” Diana said.
“We are leaving.”
“But—”
“Diana, I have had enough. I want to go back to the apartment, have something to eat, and spend the rest of the evening with you…in peace. Do you have any objections?” He waited for her to answer.
“No.”
“Good.” He took a deep breath and continued walking.
They went through the foyer to the entrance. While waiting for their car, she saw Lisa with a tall gray-haired man holding her arm and talking earnestly to her. A Bentley pulled up at the curb; Lisa briefly looked their way and quickly darted into the backseat, urging the tall man to get in. Diana glanced at Trace, but he was talking to a gentleman she didn’t know and missed Lisa’s exit.
A few minutes later their driver came to a halt in front of them. He jumped out to open the door and they eased into the backseat. They were scarcely seated when Trace reached for her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. She looked at him in silent acceptance. There was no audience, no one to impress.
When they reached the penthouse, he lifted her in his arms and moved to the living room, setting her gently on her feet.
“I can walk,” she assured him in low tones and heard his husky laughter.
“I know, but I wanted you in my arms. Why don’t you go up and change and meet me in the kitchen.”
Puzzled, she asked, “The kitchen?”
“Yes, the kitchen.” He dropped a light kiss on her lips and walked away.
It didn’t take her long to pull on a T-shirt and a pair of jean shorts that had seen better days. She scrubbed her face clean and brushed her hair into a ponytail. She looked in on Nicky and saw he was sleeping soundly. She walked into the kitchen and was surprised to see Trace standing in his stocking feet at the stove, cooking. He had removed his tie and jacket, and his shirt was hanging out of his slacks with the sleeves rolled up. He was devastating to the eyes, totally delicious. She moved slowly, not wanting him to catch her eyeing his profile. He turned from the stove with the skillet in his hand and smiled.
“Is there anything I can do?” she said.
“You can make the salad. I’ve set out the ingredients.”
She reached for the cutting board and knife and began preparing the salad. She loved chopped salad, and noticed he had already cooked bacon in the microwave and had it draining on a paper towel. They were silent as they worked side by side, each lost in their own thoughts.
He placed perfectly cooked omelets on their plates. “Are you finished with the salad?
“Yes.” She wiped her hand on a towel.
“Can you grab a bottle of wine?” She opened the pantry, took a bottle off the rack, and followed him to the dining room.
“Oh…” The table was lit with two candles. A beautiful bouquet of roses served as the centerpiece. He put the omelets on the table, took the salads out of her hands, and set them down. He pulled out the chair and assisted her into her seat.
“You accomplished a lot in a short amount of time. I’m impressed.”
He smiled. “You’re not a fast dresser. I knew I had at least a half hour to get things ready.”
She rolled her eyes and sat.
He poured wine into their glasses and gave her a searing look.
She took a bite of the spinach and cheese omelet, savoring the richness of a spice she couldn’t identify. “Wow. I didn’t know you could cook.” She took another bite.
“I learned the basics in college. I hated the cafeteria food so I cooked my own.”
She sniffed, trying to identify the elusive spice.
“Its marjoram,” he said, answering the question in her eyes. “It’s similar to oregano, but milder.”
“I’m impressed.”
He smiled. “The ancient Egyptians considered it a symbol of happiness.”
“Is that what we are, Trace, happy?”
“Right now, at this moment, I believe we’re happy. I want it to be like this all the time. It’s our decision alone to achieve it.”
She lay down her fork, leaned forward, and placed her chin in her hands. “I’m sorry about your mother.”
Trace leaned back with a slight frown on his face. “There’s no reason to be. Crispina has been the same all my life. I don’t expect her to change now.”
“I know, but still, she’s your mother.”
He laughed mirthlessly. “This is the woman who sent me to boarding school at the age of six and forgot about me. I remember my first Christmas. All the kids went home except me. Finally, my father arrived sometime after New Year’s and realized I never went home. He was furious. Their separation agreement allowed him every other Christmas. Since it was Crispina’s year, he thought I had been home.”
Tears swelled in her eyes. “Oh, Trace, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how you must’ve felt.”
A faraway look formed in his eyes and a small smile touched his lips. “That day he took me from that place. He enrolled me in a school a few miles from his estate in London. I saw him every couple of days. If I wasn’t with him, I was at Raven’s Nest with John. My father threatened to take her to court if she tried to get me back. It worked. Crispina loved her image. She didn’t want the world to know how bad a mother she was. From then on, I saw her only intermittently.”
They were silent as they resumed their meal. His comments had left her speechless. What kind of mother was Crispina? She swore the woman wasn’t human. She should be shot for what she’d done to him. Tonight she saw a deeper side of Trace and felt his pain.
All at once he stopped eating and stared across the table at her. “I don’t want to talk about Crispina anymore. I want to talk about you. You held your own tonight, Diana. I was proud of you.”
“Thank you.”
“You won everyone over with your elegance, intelligence, and beauty.”
She grinned. “Why, thank you, sir. However, I think not everyone. I’m sure Lisa and your mother feel differently than you do.”
He gave a hearty laugh. “I don’t think they’ll cause trouble again. Matter of fact, I’ll make certain of it.”
“I didn’t realize Lisa was married until you mentioned her husband.”
“She married an old family friend of her father’s.”
“He looked old enough to be her father.”
“He is.”
“Would you have carried out your threat and approached her husband?”
“Without a doubt. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I never said you couldn’t. But allow me this one small pleasure…okay?”
“I don’t want to cause more trouble between you and your mother.”
He took hold of her hand. “Diana, Crispina and I will never have the typical mother and son relationship, whether you’re a part of the picture or not.”
“But—”
He got up from the table and came around to her chair. He placed his hand under her arm, helping her to her feet. Trace placed a finger on her lips. “Shh, we have more important things to talk about than my mother or Lisa.” To prove it, his mouth found hers in a searing kiss. Whatever she might have said was lost in the confines of his arms.