Serendipity (30 page)

His body felt primed and ready as they walked up the circular stairs toward his bedroom.

“I can't wait to get this place finished,” she said, unaware of his thoughts. “The painters are coming in next week to strip all the wallpaper, prime, and paint. Then Nick will come in and put up the molding and chair rail.”

“Sounds great.” He was barely listening. He tugged her hand, pulling her down the hall and into his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him with his foot. Just in case Tess decided to make an unplanned return home.

“You're not paying attention, are you?” Faith asked, sounding upset.

“Hell, no.” He swung her into his arms and dropped her onto the mattress. “Do you really think I can concentrate on home decorating?” he asked, pinning her to the mattress with his body, letting her feel the hard ridge of his arousal flush against her.

“I guess not,” she said on a dreamy sigh, no longer caring about his lack of attention to her house plans.

He held her wrists in his hands and lowered his head for a kiss, sweeping his tongue inside her mouth at the same time he rolled his hips against her waist.

“Oh God.” Her entire being shook in reaction.

He could barely hold himself in check. “Feels good?”

“Mmm-hmm.” She met his gaze, but another shift of his hips had her eyes rolling back in her head.

He grinned. He liked giving her this kind of pleasure. While her eyes were closed, he released her wrists and slid his hand beneath her shirt, pulling it up and over her head, revealing a white bra edged in pink lace. A flick of his finger released the front hook, exposing her breasts, full, ripe, and ready, not just for his gaze either. He dipped his head and pulled one already rigid nipple into his mouth.

She groaned and threaded her fingers into his hair, holding him in place. Time was a luxury and he took his, lavishing all his attention on the soft mound of flesh. Only when he was finished with one did he move to the other breast, keeping her writhing beneath him. Every shift of her hips caused him a mix of pleasure and pain, but he wasn't finished enjoying her yet. He trailed his lips down the center of her stomach, her flesh quivering beneath his mouth, until he reached the waistband of her jeans. With her help, they got rid of her clothing and his followed, after which he picked up where he'd left off, tasting her soft flesh. He was relentless, arousing her with long, damp strokes of his tongue until he came to her center.

She was already wet and damp and when he licked her there, her hips rose off the bed. He held her in place and continued a gentle assault, until she was shaking and begging for relief. One touch at exactly the right spot and she came apart, her climax more gratifying than any of his own. Though right now his body was aching for release, he still took pleasure in hers.

Because he loved her.

Rising up, he settled his hips over hers, and then, holding on to her gaze, he thrust deep inside. His entire body registered the moment, every nerve ending, every part of him joined with Faith.

He belonged to her. And she to him.

Awareness lit her gaze. She felt it too. Whether she accepted it or not was another story.

She shifted beneath him, the shock waves echoing everywhere, and he began to match her rhythm, his hips pumping in conjunction with hers, their pace and tempo perfection. Next thing he knew, he was spinning out of control, losing himself inside her.

Later, spent, he knew he'd given her everything he had. He could only hope she'd find the strength within herself to give back.

Faith awoke cushioned in heavy, delicious, body-hugging warmth. As awareness came to her, she realized where she was, who she was with, and she never wanted to leave. Of course, the notion ran contrary to every thought she'd had since she and Ethan had . . . renewed their acquaintance. She couldn't stop the smile that curved her lips. They'd done so much more than become reacquainted. And she could no longer deny her growing feelings for this man or the obvious truth.

She loved him.

Faith didn't know how it had happened or when. She only knew she couldn't picture her life without him in it. All her reasons for steering clear, the ones that revolved around her being independent, fell apart when it came to Ethan. He wouldn't stand in the way of her growing into the woman or the interior designer she wanted to be. Nor would she allow such a thing to happen to her ever again. So maybe, just maybe, she could allow a little bit of hope to enter her life and believe the pain and the past were behind her.

She rolled over and found her face buried in Ethan's broad chest and she took a moment to inhale deeply and snuggle closer into his embrace. “I like waking up like this,” she said, her voice muffled and lost.

“I can't hear you,” he said, laughing.

She tipped her head back and looked into his eyes. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” he said in a sleep-roughened voice she found incredibly sexy.

As she stared into his handsome face, suddenly and without warning, nerves kicked in. True, they had a deep connection and he seemed to want more from her than a casual fling. But the fact remained, she'd stayed the night without discussion and without asking. She'd never been a big one-night-stand girl, and though her heart told her this was anything but, her mind had her wanting to run. Especially since he just stared at her with those fathomless eyes.
Talk about awkward,
she thought as the silence stretched endlessly between them.

Ethan stared into Faith's gorgeous eyes, feeling like he could wake like this every morning for the rest of his life. Suddenly her happy, serene,
satisfied
morning-after expression vanished, replaced by wide, anxiety-filled eyes and a distinct stiffening of her body. He recognized her panic for what it was, and when she tried to pull away he was mentally prepared and grasped her arms before she could roll over.

“Going somewhere?” he asked.

She blinked, startled. “I don't know. I thought . . .”

He knew what she thought, his heart clenching in his chest. “You were going to run away like a one-night stand who'd suddenly overstayed her welcome.” His voice sounded harsher than he'd meant to, but he'd never held back with her when it mattered and wasn't about to now. Not about anything, he decided.

She inclined her head. “I don't remember falling asleep and I thought maybe you never wanted—”

He cut her off, closing his mouth over hers, showing her just how wrong she was about what he did and didn't want. She got the message immediately. Her lips softened and soon she wasn't just kissing him back—she was climbing on top of him.

They'd slept naked and he slid his hand between them to find her already wet and, seconds later, she straddled him, enclosing him in her damp heat. She ground her hips against him and his climax immediately beckoned. Good thing hers did too, and his world exploded at the same moment she cried out his name.

A few minutes later, his breathing slowly returned to normal. “Do we understand each other now?” he asked, stroking the back of her hair with his hand.

“Mmm-hmm. I'm not a one-night stand who overstayed her welcome.” She snuggled backward into his arms. “And I'm allowed to sleep over when Tess isn't home,” she murmured sleepily.

Not quite what he had in mind and he rolled her over until she faced him. “No, you're not a one-night stand. You're so much more.” She'd distracted him when she'd climbed on top, but he had his mind back where it belonged now.

He saw the questions in her eyes. “Go ahead, ask me.”

She swallowed hard. Ran her tongue over her lips. “How much more?”

“You're everything,” he said simply. “I love you.”

Her mouth opened and closed again. “You love me? I—”

A cell phone rang somewhere in the pile of clothes on the floor. Not his ring tone.

Her gaze darted toward the sound. “That's mine.”

“Let it wait.”

“Okay.” She drew a shaky breath.

The phone continued to ring and the moment between them was gone, lost in the distracting sound.

“Get it.”

She nodded and rolled over, climbing out of bed, but by the time she found the cell, the ringing had stopped. She checked the phone. “My mother,” she said.

“You sound surprised.”

“She rarely calls me.” Faith rose and climbed back into bed, pulling the covers over her naked body before redialing the number.

Her mother answered on the first ring. “Mom?”

“Have you seen it?” From right beside Faith, Ethan could hear Lanie's voice loud and clear.

“Seen what?” Faith asked.

“It's your father. He's destroyed my life all over again!” Lanie Harrington cried into the phone.

“Calm down and explain,” Faith ordered her mother in a composed voice, but at the mention of her father, her hand began to tremble.

Faith's mother was obviously incapable of coherent conversation, so Faith ended the call, promising to come right over.

Their morning, their moment had passed. They wouldn't be discussing the three words Ethan had spoken, and whatever she'd wanted to say in return would have to wait. His heart pounded hard in his chest, making him painfully aware of what he'd put out there, left unanswered.

Faith arrived at her mother's small house and found Lanie still wearing her nightgown, in bed crying hysterically.

“Mom?”

“How could he?” Lanie pointed to the magazine on her lap with a shaking hand.

Faith's legs felt wooden as she crossed the bedroom floor. “What is it?”

“An interview.”

Faith picked up the copy of the
News Journal
magazine and stared at her father's familiar face. His hair was grayer and a few more lines creased his skin, but his expression hadn't changed. What a younger, more naive Faith hadn't noticed was the arrogance in his eyes and posture. Prison hadn't diminished either of those traits.

With dread, Faith flipped to the beginning of the article.

“You might want to sit down. It's long,” her mother suggested.

Faith turned and faced the parent who'd never acted like one. “Did you know about this before it hit the stands?”

Lanie glanced down at her hands. “The reporter called and asked if he could interview me.”

“Of course you agreed.” Her mother would grasp at any chance at fame or publicity, never bothering to think about the repercussions. “What did you tell them?”

“The truth as I saw it. Among other things, that your father was either misunderstood or misguided but not an evil man at heart. Unfortunately, they printed selectively.”

Faith swallowed hard. “What quotes did they use?”

“Ones about my old life. What things I miss most now.” Lanie didn't glance up or meet Faith's gaze.

“In other words, you came off sounding like an unrepentant spoiled brat?”

Now her mother glanced up, startled. “Don't speak to me that way!”

Faith sighed and lowered herself into a Queen Anne–style chair in the corner, magazine still in her hand. “Don't you think the time for cushioning our words and pretending are over?”

Lanie waved her hand at Faith. “Just read it.”

Faith settled in to pore over her father's words. At the headline on the cover, “Anatomy of a Scam,” any hope that her mother was overreacting died a quick death. Faith read the article, her stomach in knots and cramping, her head pounding. Because for once in her life, Lanie Harrington hadn't exaggerated.

Martin Harrington had bared his soul and, in doing so, revealed he had none. Her once beloved father didn't deny any of his wrongdoing. He'd known from the beginning that what he was doing was both illegal and immoral, but when the money started pouring in he couldn't bring himself to care. Not when he and his family had lived a lifestyle of opulence and luxury.

Did he feel guilt? he was asked. For the people whose life savings he'd lost? No, he did not. Those same people who complained now hadn't batted an eyelash when he'd made them profits beyond their wildest dreams. If they'd enjoyed the fruits of his labors then, who were they to find fault now? To Martin Harrington, it hardly seemed fair that he was in jail, estranged from his wife and only child.

At the mention of her name, nausea rose in Faith's throat. Because her father didn't stop there. He went on to elaborate on how Faith's marriage to Carter Moreland had united two powerhouses—Martin in business, Carter in the legal arena—bringing more clients to Harrington Investment Securities—and more money to the associates whom Carter Moreland had introduced to Martin Harrington. He'd incriminated Carter by implication and dirtied Faith by extension.