Excerpt:

 

Vi left once Marissa assured her they would talk later that night. Driving away from the hospital, the look on Marissa’s face when she came through those emergency room doors, still haunted Vi. That memory -- an expression of total desolation -- overshadowed her concern about Marissa’s threat to handle things on her own. Did you lose part of yourself when something happened to the one you loved? Emotionally, Marissa was the strongest woman Vi knew, but tonight, Marissa had lost it, shattered by the possibility of losing Tristan.

Oh, no. Vi shook her head. She wasn’t about to feed into that crap about love again. Obviously, love didn’t conquer all, and only led to pain and heartache.

Coming out of her reverie, Vi became aware of her surroundings. She had reached her destination, parked at the curb, and got out of the car. While she rooted around in her purse for her set of  house keys to Marissa’s, she moved across the lawn. The sudden illumination from the recently installed motion-sensor lights startled her. She chuckled and stepped up to the front entrance. The door flew open and Kate Summers, the Corbett housekeeper, stood there waiting to greet her.

“Marissa called from the hospital,” Kate said as she hustled Vi off to the kitchen.

Vi made herself comfortable at the table and watched Kate bustle around the kitchen fixing coffee and sandwiches, wiping counters, never still. It was unusual to see Kate so harried.

"Kate, come on, sit down. I bet you've been too busy to take a moment to relax and fix yourself something to eat."

"Tell me about it. There wasn’t time to eat...the twins, everything else going on."

"Yeah, I know, Marissa told me about last night. Are you okay? You must be exhausted. Come on, sit...eat."

"Okay, but just for a minute or two."

"No, Kate. You're going to sit here and relax for more than just a minute or two."

A mixture of surprise and relief washed over Kate’s features as she came to the table. She sat next to Vi, took a few sips of her coffee, and then with a tremor in her voice she asked, “How bad is it? When Marissa called to let me know you were on your way, she said Tristan was going to be okay. Then you arrived...your look...you seemed worried, I was afraid to ask about Tristan.”

"Oh, no! Kate, I'm sorry. Tristan is going to be fine.” She reached across the table and patted Kate’s hand. “But Marissa...for a moment there, I was more worried about her. I don’t know. I still can't believe it. You should have seen her when she arrived at the hospital. It really disturbed me to see her come apart that way. It’s not like her."

"Well, you’ve known her longer, so I'm sure you know her better than I do, but I can’t help but notice… Marissa and Tristan -- it's as if you can feel the love they share. I really don't know how to explain it, and I know I’m not making any sense, but look at Korey and Kristen. Look at how happy and healthy they are, all the time,” Kate said. “They rarely fret. I know this may sound like some old wives’ tale, but I believe it's because of the love between their mother and father, as if the babies sense the calm, the love. It's incredible!"

"Hell. I didn't need to hear that,” Vi grumbled. “To think that kind of love, if it exists...some scary thought. Besides, seeing Marissa’s reaction when she thought she might lose Tristan, I sure as hell don’t want to experience it. Not that I think I could."

"Vi! Honey, don’t say that. You're still young; you'll get your chance. Trust me.” Kate patted Vi's hand as she got up then started clearing the dishes from the table.

"I don't know. It seems too painful. There isn’t a man alive worth so much anguish," Vi replied as she stood up. "Do you need any help?"

"No...thanks. I want to keep busy."

"Well, I'm going to stay until Marissa gets home. She insists on being here with the twins, after what happened last night. By the way, where are the dogs?”

“I fed them and put them out back for a little exercise. You know, you have to force them to leave the babies.”

“Good thing. After last night, I’m glad Marissa insisted on getting them when she did. I was as skeptical as Tristan, at first. But now...” Vi shivered when she thought of what could have happened last night if the dogs hadn’t been in the nursery. “I’ll be upstairs with the twins if you need me.” She left Kate in the kitchen finishing her chores.

Slowly ascending the stairs, her thoughts were already on Korey and Kristen. She’d never had many opportunities to be around babies, and considering her sentiments about love, before Marissa’s two came along, she never considered having any. However, these two kids totally captivated her. Their beauty -- the parents’ classic features and skin tones fused together by the intermingling of blood from the two races. She couldn’t get enough of looking at them, and she experienced a strong sense of well being whenever she held them.

Whoa…girlfriend! Is that the faint sound of a biological clock ticking?

Vi paused mid-stride and shuddered. Oh no, she wasn’t going there again. Babies meant men and commitment. She shook her head and continued along the corridor using the small nightlight midway down the hall to guide her to the nursery. Pausing on the threshold, she peered into the room, which was softly lit by a light in the base of the lamp on the dresser. The muted glow allowed her a clear view of the babies.

She moved into the room and stepped between the two cribs. Hearing the soft snuffling noises coming from Kristen’s crib, she went to her first. Kristen lay sprawled on her stomach with her fist to her mouth sound asleep. Turning to Korey, she found him wide-awake, lying on his back cooing and gurgling, his chubby face wreathed in smiles. He seemed to be watching the mobile above his crib. The momentum of his kicking feet jarred it into motion while he waved his clenched fists in the air like an orchestra conductor. She stood mesmerized, watching his playful antics.

The image of his father, ironically Korey had amber eyes, Marissa’s eyes. Whereas, paternity couldn’t be denied when you looked at Kristen, a tiny replica of her mother, she had those startling-clear, blue-green eyes like sparkling turquoise, so identical to Tristan’s.

Vi chuckled and shook off her moment of whimsy as she leaned over the crib rail. Marissa never pulled the rails up on the cribs. She said the babies were too small to fall or climb out. Hell. They were just starting to turn completely over. She carefully lifted Korey from his bed and cradled him in her arms as she moved across the room to the rocking chair. She sat down, set the chair in motion, and started humming.

Downy soft and warm, his baby-fresh scent assailed her nostrils as she leaned forward and idly brushed a tiny curl from his forehead. The corners of her mouth lifted when his eyelids began to flutter, the smooth movement of the chair lulling him to sleep. Periodically, she glanced toward the cribs and noticed the steady rise and fall of the blankets signaling Kristen was still asleep. In an atmosphere of such contentment, Vi’s smile became wistful.

Could she ever be this fortunate? Wasn’t it possible there was someone out there she’d want to father a child with her?

Without love?

Oh...hell.

She just wanted the baby...without the love crap. Of course, there was artificial insemination, which definitely excluded the love portion, but seemed too impersonal in the extreme.

Vi glanced down at the baby in her arms and eased out of the rocker, moving cautiously across the room, she tried not to jar him awake. She kissed his brow and gently laid him down, straightening the covers, she smoothed them over his little body. While she stood there smiling down at the baby, a sound in the hall drew her attention, and the break-in the night before popped into her mind. Her heart raced.

The dogs... Shit!

Kate had put the dogs outside, no help there. Where was Kate...had she heard? She made a quick scan of the room looking for a weapon. Hell. What did she expect to find in a nursery? Damn it.

Vi went rigid, breathing shallow when she felt a presence behind her. Goosebumps tripped up her arms. She had to do something. The thought of harm coming to the babies…their welfare galvanized her to action. She whirled around, her eyes widening in alarm. A towering, powerfully built figure, just a silhouette framed by the glow of light behind him, stood in the doorway. His features were in shadow, but his presence -- the magnetism overwhelming -- she closed her eyes. Must be imagination, maybe she turned too fast. That’s it, she felt faint.

She opened her eyes. It was no apparition. He was real, standing there…her breath caught in her throat. “Who...” she gasped.

Mind reeling, heart pumping spastically, for reasons she couldn’t comprehend, she was afraid. Yet this man seemed to pose a threat only to her senses, not her physical self, and why did she instinctively feel he wasn’t a danger to the children?

Vi stared. He was moving toward her. The soft glow illuminated his features while excitement vibrated through her body. The palpable eroticism of his look...she couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen.

Whoa...now. Wait one damn minute—

Okay!

She couldn’t deny Tristan’s good looks, but this virile specimen of manhood had comparable qualities. How the hell did she get so lucky, encountering two such men in one lifetime? With a practiced eye, she took note of his physical attributes.

Craning her neck, she looked up, scrutinizing his piercing gaze. The eyes were light, either blue or gray; the faint glow from the lamp hindered a clearer distinction. Her perusal continued, traversing the length of him, head to toe, taking note of broad shoulders and long legs. He wore a three-piece suit fitted to display a physique every bit as daunting as Tristan's, and she took note of how his slacks molded nicely to his thighs.

On their return journey upward, her eyes involuntarily moved to the slight bulge to the right of his zipper. A fleeting thought about what lay hidden behind the smooth cut of that material made her jerk her eyes up to his face. Damn! He was watching her, closely watching her, and he must have noticed the direction of her stare.

Heart hammering, Vi mumbled several foul expletives and closed her eyes in an attempt to blot out her much-too-personal glimpse of him. And a lot of good closing her eyes did when her fickle mind refused to cooperate, retaining a vivid image of his entire form. He was definitely all that, and with his stare never wavering, he continued to move toward her.

Christopher Corbett had paused on the threshold, frowning and confused. He thought…his mind wouldn’t -- hell! For the first time in his life, his mind couldn’t comprehend a complete thought. The woman standing between the two cribs, her face highlighted by the lamp took his breath away. But in that subdued lighting, it had to be a trick of the light. Yet a nagging pull on his senses gained his body’s immediate reaction, the material of his slacks nipping at sensitive flesh. Damn it! No woman ever affected him in such a way before, and he sure as hell hoped this woman wasn’t his brother's wife. He mentally shook himself and moved forward.

“Christopher Corbett,” he said, hand extended. "Marissa?"

Vi shook her head, too bemused to answer. What the hell was happening to her? Her reaction to this stranger was so completely out of character. She just stood there, hypnotized into watching his approach -- an unexpected gracefulness for such a large man. Until that moment, she never understood what Marissa said she felt when she first met Tristan. If her rapidly fluttering pulse was any indication, now she knew.

A sensual aura pulling at her senses emanated from the man, and a nerve-tingling awareness swept her body. Her hands grew clammy. She turned and rested them on the crib, resisting the urge to clench the railing to stop their trembling. Oh yeah. That's all she needed. Draw his attention to the affect he was having on her, because there was no doubt he was watching her. Why else would her body feel flushed, or her knees be quaking? And that an unfamiliar, intrinsic sensuality pervading her body... Oh, hell yeah, he still watched her.

Vi reached down and pretended to adjust Korey’s cover until she felt in control again. Then she took two deep calming breaths before she turned back to face him. With her normal calm restored, she’d attempt an intelligent conversation.

"Please, excuse me. I'm Vi Leon, a close friend of Marissa's.” She looked up at him.

Christopher released his breath in a rush, relieved she wasn't Tristan's wife. He moved forward until he was standing next to Vi between the two cribs. Looking down at the two sleeping infants, he smiled then turned to her. "Beautiful," he whispered, his gaze ranging freely over her body, sexually assessing. "As I said, I'm Christopher Corbett, Tristan's oldest brother.”

Vi’s breath caught in her throat and her heart flip-flopped. His voice -- deep, rich, melodious -- it oozed self-confidence. The Barry White intonation was hypnotic, luring her in, dreamlike, bemused. Did she detect a slight southern accent?

Well, duh. Marissa said they were from West Virginia.

His captivating smile made her weak at the knees, and she had thought Tristan was the best-looking thing since Troy Donahue. But this man’s presence… The delicious shiver of a feathery caress shook her body, all rational thought fled, and she stood there bereft of speech.

What was wrong with her? Her normal response would have been some snappy repartee or a few witticisms. She usually held her own with any man, and she sure as hell was never speechless.

Now what had he said. Why couldn’t she concentrate? She was thirty-six years old, standing there gawking at a man like a silly, inexperienced schoolgirl. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he was watching her make a fool of herself.

“Uh...excuse me. What did you say?” she stammered feeling the warmth heat her cheeks. Holy shit...blushing. Wasn’t that a long-forgotten bit of ingenuousness she hadn’t experienced in years. She didn't know she still could.

Christopher’s eyelids lowered, shielding the look of pleasure he knew would be obvious, while he struggled to contain his laughter over her predicament. Twice he’d caught her checking him out, and not just a casual once-over. No, she’d literally stripped him with her eyes, and now she was discomfited? Good. He didn’t want to be the only one feeling the enigmatic attraction. Hell. He didn’t want to believe he was capable of feeling it at all. Yet, the affect the woman had on him occurred with spontaneity and felt real. His traitorous body reacted to her presence like an inexperienced schoolboy -- every nerve in his body vibrating with his awareness of her, totally ignoring warning signals from his brain.

Moreover, now that he’d gotten a better look, combined with the extra stimuli of her eyes lingering on his body, he could barely hold the threads of conversation together. He wasn’t even sure they were having a conversation.

He finally said the first thing that came to mind. “The babies. They’re beautiful.”

Shit!

It wasn’t like him to be tongue-tied with a woman. He’d seen...been with dozens of beautiful women. So why the sudden gut-wrenching reaction to this one? Shit. At thirty-eight years old, his relationships had become blasé. Need, rarely desire. He sure as hell never considered turning any of them into a permanent arrangement. So why did he already think of this woman as—damn it! He was too old for this shit.

"Marissa isn't here," Vi blurted out.

What else could she say? She didn't want to be the one to tell him about his brother. Beneath all the charm and sensuality, size notwithstanding, she sensed a dangerous presence, and she was no fool. She was not about to test her hypothesis.

"Where's Tristan?"

"With Marissa.” That was as far as she was prepared to go by way of explanation.

"Do you know what's going on?"

"Uh...maybe we should continue this conversation downstairs. I don't want to wake Korey and Kristen." She stepped away from him and led the way from the nursery.

Eyes narrowed, Christopher hurried to follow her. Was it his imagination, or was she trying to avoid telling him anything? Well, he could be quite determined in getting answers. "Now wait a minute!” He heard the edge of impatience creeping into his voice and modulated his tone. "Vi...please. Tristan called the family, sounding urgent. He said there had been threats made against his wife and kids. So here we are. We were expecting Tristan to meet us at the airport. Do you know what's going on?”

She didn’t answer, just continued down the hallway as if she was trying to put as much distance as possible between them. But he had her attention.

“Tristan called you, instead of the police?” she blurted out. “You’re attorneys, aren’t you? That’s odd.”

She paused at the head of the stairs and switched on the stairway and lower hall entryway light, and then she turned to him, seemed startled by his close proximity and lost her balance. He saw the momentary shock register in her eyes and reached out to prevent her from tumbling headfirst down the stairs. Grabbing her upper arms, his fingertips brushed against her breasts, and the air became charged with electrifying impulses. His hold on her arms tightened as he lifted her, pulling her up along his body.

He watched her blush to the roots of her hair as a curse escaped her lips -- and nice lips they were. Full, pouty lips made for kissing and other erotic uses. She wanted him to kiss her; he saw it in her eyes.

A surge of blood swelled his cock; the crotch of his trousers bit into the sensitive flesh. Damn. He knew he was going too far, and he knew he should let her go and walk away, but, uncharacteristically, the feel of her pressed against him had drawn an active response from his body. He couldn’t forego the opportunity to check out the little details about her appearance that their close proximity afforded him.

Compared to his six-foot-four-inch frame, the top of her head didn’t even reach the underside of his chin, and the brief encounter with her breasts, it wasn’t imagination that only her stature lacked size. Adding to his dismay, his first impression of her looks had been grossly underestimated. Up close, the woman was much too good-looking for his peace of mind.

Vi knew she had lost her mind. What the hell was she thinking? Why wasn’t she resisting, instead of letting him hold her, frozen in his grasp, staring into his eyes -- gray eyes -- cold steel with a hint of blue, changing like gathering storm clouds. Beautiful eyes with long blond lashes, and that sandy-blond hair… She itched to run her fingers through it, to know the feel of it, to see if it was soft, or as stiff and spiky as it looked in that military-style crew cut.

Stupidly, she continued to stare -- prey trapped by the mesmerizing gaze of its predator. A chill swept her body as she firmly suppressed the compelling impulse to wrap her legs around his hips, to caress the hardness nestled at the junction of her thighs. She closed her eyes for a second, sighed, then reopened them and caught a glimpse of the same emotions plaguing her, reflected in his eyes.

Christopher felt as perplexed as she looked. Why was he standing there just holding her against him? It didn’t make sense. He wanted...no, it was a lot more than wanting, more than just sexual. Was he losing it? He mentally shook himself and let her body glide down his. He made sure she was steady on her feet before he released his hold.

What the hell was he thinking? He didn’t have time for this. He was on his way to another assignment. This was a temporary layover. Jesus. He needed to find out what Tristan’s problem was, resolve it, and get the hell out of Riverview.

Vi hastily turned away to hide her disappointment when he didn't kiss her. What a fool. She didn't know the man. Yet his touch...the physical contact had shaken her. In her wildest dreams, she couldn’t have imagined physical encounters like this were possible.

That slight brush of his fingertips against her breasts had sent an alien flood of desire coursing through her veins. Hell. Over the years, she had settled for whatever she could get from her sexual experiences. She hadn’t expected much. The men she’d known never took the time to help her enjoy their encounters as much as they had. Yet, in a matter of seconds, Christopher had excited her beyond anything she had ever experienced with just a look, a light touch, and his overwhelming sexual presence.

This is some scary shit.

Hell. She was thinking like Marissa, and her subconscious was beginning to lecture suspiciously like Marissa. And where was Marissa when she needed her, needed to talk about this attraction shit. Oh sure, Marissa would laugh and say, “I told you so”, but she’d understand.

What the hell was it about these Corbett men? Marissa had said there were six boys in the family. More like Tristan, or worse, like this one? She could only hope the others stayed in West Virginia. Her senses were on overload being in close proximity to one.

Vi proceeded down the stairs, deep in thought. Surely, she’d lost it. She didn’t believe in love at first—

Whoa, now, wait one happy-damn minute.

Where did that come from? Love…uh, she was attracted, but love—her, oh, hell no, not her, not ever, no way, not after watching Marissa and Tristan—no! The love thing became entirely too powerful, all encompassing, and it could be very, very painful.

It appeared to take over your soul.

© Emily Wade-Reid