Defying Desire. A.C. Arthur

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СКАЧАТЬ proved to be totally unsuccessful.

      Even now Camille was saying something, the ever handsome and charming Adam right by her side, and Tia had no idea what she was talking about. Her back was to Trent but he was still watching her. She could feel it in every pore of her body.

      “That choker is exquisite with the dress, Tia. Now, since this is just the preamble to the big launch party I’ve only invited a few top reporters. There’s maybe one or two photographers moving about. So if you could make the rounds I’m sure they’ll see you.”

      Tia’s hand shook as she reached for a glass of champagne. She prayed nobody saw it; however, the hostess, who was about two inches shorter than her, smiled knowingly. Suddenly very thirsty, Tia lifted the glass to her lips and emptied the contents, the champagne leaving a tingling trail of chilliness down her throat.

      “Hey? You okay?” Camille asked touching a hand to her wrist as she brought the empty glass away from her lips.

      “I’m fine,” Tia said trying to clear her head. If she thought of tonight as work she could probably make it through. If she didn’t let herself remember that in just a couple of hours the anniversary date and time of the worst moment of her life would be upon her, she would be all right.

      But then she heard his voice.

      “She certainly is fine.”

      Oh God. Who am I fooling? I’m not going to make it. Trent Donovan was not going to let her get through this night unscathed. She could hear it in his voice even before she turned to look at him.

      “Trent, I’m sure you remember my top model, Tia St. Claire,” Camille said in a tight voice that dared Trent to misbehave.

      That left Tia to wonder if she had recently been the topic of conversation in the Donovan household.

      “How could I ever forget her?” He reached for her then, surprising her when he only took the empty glass out of her hand.

      To her dismay, another hostess miraculously appeared and he disposed of the glass. Turning back to her, Trent took her hand in his. It was a move that looked practiced and smooth as hell all at the same time. Damn, she hated this man.

      “How have you been, Tia?”

      Okay, first he needed to stop touching her. Even the gentle feel of her hand in his and the thumb he caressed over her long, tapering fingers, was too much for her already quivering insides to take.

      “I’ve been just fine. And you?” Her voice was steady even if the rest of her wasn’t. And she didn’t yank her hand out of his no matter how much she wanted to.

      As Camille had said, reporters and photographers were here. She couldn’t make a scene. The way Trent was looking at her said he’d figured that out before approaching her.

      “I’ve been better.”

      I’ll just bet you have. “That’s nice. Now if you will all excuse me, I think I’ll make my rounds now.”

      “That’s a good idea,” Camille chimed in. “Isn’t it, Adam?”

      Adam cleared his throat after Camille elbowed him in the ribs. “Ah, yeah. Good idea. How about I escort you out onto the terrace? I think Nigella from the Chronicle is out there soaking up the breeze.”

      Tia gladly accepted Adam’s invitation but didn’t miss the heated glare that passed between the two brothers as she did so. Refusing to even look back at Trent she made a hasty, but classy, retreat.

      “Whatever you’re thinking I want you to get it out of your mind right this minute,” Camille said to Trent when they were alone.

      “Why does everybody insist on treating me like I’m the bad guy?”

      “Um, because you’re military trained to take no prisoners.”

      Trent had to smile at that one. “She’s a grown woman, Camille. You don’t have to protect her. Especially not from me.”

      “I especially need to protect her from you.”

      Two hours and about six glasses of champagne later Tia was draped over a lounge chair in one of the back rooms of Camille’s house. She’d made her rounds speaking to reporters and buyers making sure they all knew that she was wearing a CK Davis exclusive, taken pictures, smiled non-stop and modeled back and forth through the large living and dining rooms.

      Her head pounded and her feet hurt. She was exhausted and she was afraid. About a half hour ago she’d stopped looking at the clock. She knew the time was ticking down. That’s why she’d searched out a place to be alone. If she were going to have a breakdown she didn’t need any of the press seeing it. Hell, she didn’t need any of the Donovans seeing it.

      So for the past fifteen minutes she’d been sitting here in the dark, trying to get her brain out of its champagne-induced haze so she could drive herself back to her apartment. There she could fall flat on her face and let the grief claim her the way it begged to.

      She was almost ready to get up when a stream of light invaded her sacred darkness. With an inhale of an intoxicatingly masculine cologne she knew her night had just taken another turn for the worse.

      “Hiding out?” Trent asked as he closed the door and switched on a lamp.

      Tia pressed her palms into her eyes, praying that when she moved them the pinpricks against her lids would cease. “I’m trying to be alone, if you don’t mind.”

      “I’m looking for some company,” he said slowly. “If you don’t mind.”

      Furious at his audacity Tia pulled her hands away from her face and gasped when she realized he was standing directly over her. “Yes. I mind. I’m sure you can find someone to keep you company out there. Lord knows there are plenty of women dying to catch your attention.”

      “Jealous?” he asked in that cool yet firm voice of his.

      “Hell, no! If they want to make fools of themselves for you, they are more than welcome.”

      Even though she expected him to, Trent didn’t respond. He only watched her as if he were seeing something nobody else did. She turned away from him, only to have him grab her chin and turn her back to face him.

      “Are you okay?”

      “I will be if you’d leave.”

      “You look sick.”

      “I am. Sick and tired of being harassed by you.”

      “You’re drunk,” he stated flatly.

      “I am not.”

      “I’ll take you home.”

      “I didn’t ask you to.”

      And before she could say another word he was scooping her up off the chair. His strong arms cradled her against his chest.

      Why did it have to feel so good? In the midst of all that was bad in her life, why did the touch of СКАЧАТЬ