The Baby Bet: The Royal MacAllister Part 5

There was a kaleidoscope of colors, so vivid, so rich, swirling around them, encasing them in a coc.o.o.n where no one else was allowed entry. It was theirs. They spun out of control, clinging to each other, knowing they were safe as long as they were together. They hovered there, s.h.i.+fting, drifting, feeling the last ripples of release whisper throughout them.

Brent collapsed against Alice, spent, sated, then gathered the last ounce of strength he possessed to move off her and roll to her side, tucking her close to him, lips resting on her damp forehead.

Trip splayed one hand on the moist, dark curls on Brent's chest, feeling his heart begin to return to a normal beat just as hers was. Their bodies cooled, and Brent reached down to pull the blankets over them.

Neither spoke.

They searched their minds for the proper words to describe the beauty of what they'd just shared, the awe of it, then gave up in defeat as they realized that the words they needed had not yet been invented.

"Will you stay?" Trip finally said. "The night? With me?"

"I'll stay. This is where I want to be, Alice."

"This is where I want you to be," she said, then closed her eyes and slept.

Brent woke to the sound of water running in the shower, and the warmth of sunlight tiptoeing across his face. He laced his fingers beneath his head on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling.

Incredible, he thought. That was just one of the words he could use to describe the lovemaking shared with Alice. But the memories themselves were far better than any adjectives he might come up with.

Heat rocketed through Brent's body, and he s.h.i.+fted slightly in the bed, telling himself to change the mental subject.

Okay, he thought, he wouldn't dwell on making love with Alice, he'd think about Alice herself, the woman. Man, she was something, really fantastic. Yes, she was complicated, had an intense side to her that caused her to scurry behind her protective wall if she began to feel pressured or pushed.

She also had a rather disturbing att.i.tude about not being capable of being in a serious relations.h.i.+p.

Why that bothered him, he didn't know. Heaven knew he wasn't in the market for a serious relations.h.i.+p. He'd been down that road once and had vowed never to retrace those steps. He should count Alice's stand as more points in her favor but...forget it. That was too heavy a subject before morning coffee.

Alice, Brent mused on. There was also a fun, whimsical part of her that surfaced when she relaxed and just enjoyed herself. Her dark eyes sparkled, and her smile and laughter were real. She had a what-you-see-is-what-you-get honesty that he cherished, that he knew was very important to him. She was a waitress in a crummy cafe and if anyone had a problem with that...tough. Yes, she was reluctant to talk about herself to any great degree, but that would come in time.

The bathroom door opened and Alice appeared wearing her pink uniform. Brent drank in the sight of her, and vivid, sensuous images of the previous night formed in his mind's eye.

"Good morning," he said.

"h.e.l.lo," Trip said, smiling. "I'm sorry I woke you, but I have to be at work at six, so we need to get ourselves in gear."

Meaning, Brent thought, that she preferred not to leave him here in her apartment when she left. Fair enough.

"I'll take a quick shower," he said, flipping back the blankets and leaving the bed. "Brent, I just want to say... What I mean is...last night was...thank you."

Brent gathered his clothes from the floor, then walked past Alice and dropped a quick kiss on her lips.

"Ditto," he said. "I'd kill for a cup of coffee. Do we have enough time?"

"Yes."

Heat slithered down Trip's spine as she swept her gaze over Brent's naked body as he walked toward the bathroom. When the door closed behind him, she took a quick breath, realizing she'd nearly forgotten to breathe as she'd stared at him.

"Oh, my," she said rather dreamily. "I will never, ever, forget last night." She paused. "Coffee. Make coffee, Trip. Right now."

She had just poured two mugs full of the steaming drink when Brent emerged from the bathroom, his hair damp, his face still stubbled in a dark beard.

"I don't look too presentable," he said, running his hand over his chin, "but I'm squeaky clean. Ah, coffee. I'm forever in your debt." He took a sip of the hot brew. "h.e.l.lo, my name is Brent Bardow and I just woke up."

Trip laughed. "You're so crazy. I think I've laughed more since meeting you than I did in the six months before we met."

Brent sat down at a small table and Trip settled in the chair opposite him.

"I should offer you some breakfast," she said, "but I can't because I don't have any breakfast-type food in the house and I don't have time, anyway."

"This coffee will hold me until I get back to my hotel. May I see you tonight, Alice?"

"I...I have an...appointment this evening, Brent," she said, tracing the edge of the mug with a fingertip. "I'm not certain what time I'll be free."

"An appointment? At night?"

Trip met his gaze. "Yes."

"All right," he said. "Try this on for size. I'll stay put in my room at the hotel, and you come by when you're finished with your... appointment. We'll have a late dinner. Sound feasible?"

"I'd like that."

"All the Bardows and Renaults are staying at the Excaliber. I'm in room 610."

Trip nodded. Brent drained his mug and got to his feet. "I'm outta here," he said. "I'll see you tonight. Walk me to the door?"

At the door Brent kissed Trip so intensely that her knees began to tremble.

"Tonight," he said when he finally released her.

"Yes," she said with a little puff of air.

When the door closed behind Brent, Trip stared at it for a long moment, then started back toward the table and her unfinished coffee. Halfway across the room she stopped, her gaze pulled to the screens on the far wall.

Secrets, she thought, walking to the screens, then behind them. She was still keeping secrets from Brent, from her entire family. Well, Brent had secrets, too. He hadn't yet told her why he had dreaded returning to the States, hadn't shared what had happened to him in the past to evoke that negative emotion.

So many secrets.

Trip stared at what she had hidden with the screens.

There they were. The easel, the paints and brushes, the few small framed paintings she'd left there when she'd taken the large ones to Denny's.

There they were. Her hopes, dreams, the focus of her existence.

There they were. Her secrets.

And tonight she and the agent she'd hired upon returning to Ventura were meeting with the owner of a prestigious gallery to discuss the possibility of an exclusive showing of her work. Trip had already sold some of her pictures on the beaches and in small galleries up the coast, and that money allowed her to pay the rent on her loft. But this could be her big break.

Her work. The paintings she signed with an A in the lower right-hand corner. An A for Alice, because when she painted she was no longer the rebel Trip, the confused and angry Trip, searching for her own ident.i.ty. When she painted she was free in her mind, her spirit, her very soul. She was Alice, and when she painted she embraced the very essence of who she was.

Just as she had done when she'd made love with Brent Bardow.

But the majority of the time, she thought with a sigh, walking slowly back to the waiting coffee, she was still Trip and had been for many, many years. Trip, who didn't even know how to reach out and embrace the unconditional love of her family, let alone lower her self-made barriers enough to give her heart to a special man.

She sank onto the chair at the table, then stared across to where Brent had sat.

When she was with Brent, she mused, she was vitally alive, free of her inner ghosts and demons. When she was with Brent, her smiles were real and genuine laughter flowed easily from her lips.

When she was with Brent, she was beautiful and acutely aware of her own femininity, her womanliness.

"Caring and sharing," Trip said aloud.

Brent was teaching her how to do that and it felt like a warm, comforting blanket she could wrap around herself and savor.

Chapter Five.

Trip walked slowly along the crowded sidewalk leading to the Excaliber Hotel, attempting and failing to blank her mind.

She'd had the taxi let her out two blocks away with the hope that the added distance would enable her to settle down to earth after the exciting meeting with her agent and the owner of the art gallery.

She'd even gone home to change into jeans and a nubby, lightweight white sweater before starting out for the late dinner with Brent. But even that diversion hadn't stopped her mind from replaying every word that had been spoken at the gallery.

"Unbelievable," Trip whispered.

In a little more than two months, she was to have a private, invitation-only showing of her work at one of the most prestigious art galleries in Ventura, California.

A s.h.i.+ver of pure joy coursed through her and she wrapped her hands around her elbows to hug the wondrous sensation, to keep it safely within her so she could savor every precious moment of it.

After so many years of pinching pennies to buy supplies needed for her work, of spending endless hours alone concentrating on her painting, cutting herself off from her family, as well as the people she'd come to know, the solitary life she'd led had finally resulted in her being recognized as a talented artist.

"Unbelievable," Trip said again, but in the next instant she frowned as a chill swept through her.

Her heartfelt dream, her deepest desire, was coming true, she thought, and she had no one to share the glorious news with.

She just couldn't envision herself calling a meeting of the MacAllisters and saying, "Guess what? I know that I haven't acted like a member of this family for many years, but now I want you to forget all that and be sincerely thrilled for me. I've accomplished what I set out to do, which was, of course, something you knew absolutely nothing about." No, that was asking far too much.

Trip sighed, glanced at her watch, then quickened her step when she saw that it was nearly nine o'clock.

Sharing and caring, she thought. Brent placed great emphasis on that, but she couldn't tell him what had transpired this evening, either. It was all too new and she felt so fragile, as though she was hanging on to what had happened by her fingertips, afraid it would somehow disappear into oblivion and not really be true.

Trip entered the hotel and started across the expensively decorated lobby, headed toward the bank of elevators. And ran smack-dab into King Chester, Charlane and Byron Bardow, Maggie and Devon and Maggie's parents, who had just walked out of the restaurant on the main floor.

Oh, good grief, Trip thought, where was the rabbit hole to fall into when Alice needed it?

"Trip," Maggie said, smiling. "What are you doing here?" She laughed. "That was a silly question. You must be meeting Brent."

"Who refused to have dinner with us," Charlane said pleasantly, "because he said he already had plans for a late supper. The salmon was delicious, dear, and came with a dill sauce to die for. You might mention that to Brent. He enjoys salmon when it's cooked to perfection the way they do it here."

"I'll...tell him," Trip said, acutely aware of the flush of embarra.s.sment staining her cheeks. "Salmon and dill sauce. Got it."

"Did Bobby find you and give you a cell phone?" Maggie said. "My brother is coming unglued about this baby that's about to arrive. It's so cute. I've never seen him so jangled."

"There's a lot of 'being jangled' going around these days," Trip said, producing a small smile. "Yes, I have the phone and... Oh, good grief, this is mortifying. I mean, heaven knows what all of you must be thinking about me and Brent and my arriving here at this hour and..." Her voice trailed off and she threw up her hands.

King Chester smiled. "I do believe we're thinking that you and Brent intend to share a late dinner, my dear. There's really nothing mortifying about having salmon and dill sauce in the company of someone you enjoy being with. It's a rather common occurrence."

"Oh," Trip said.

"Trip, I hope you didn't mind that Bobby gave you the cell phone," Maggie said. "If you'd rather not be disturbed at heaven only knows what time when the baby decides to come into the world, I can tell him not to call you."

"No, no, I want to be called. Really." There it was again, the walking on eggsh.e.l.ls around the unpredictable and here-today-and-gone-tomorrow Trip. "I was very pleased that Bobby included me."

"Well, if you're sure," Maggie said.

"Positive," Trip a.s.sured her.

"We've kept you from your dinner long enough," Charlane said. "I know my son. He's a grumpy bear when he's hungry. It was lovely seeing you again, Trip. Alice."

"It was nice to see all of you, too." Trip edged around the group. "I'd better be on my way so the bear doesn't get any grumpier. Bye."

Trip rushed to the elevators, silently thanked one that was standing open as she entered it and pushed the b.u.t.ton for the sixth floor with more force than was necessary.

Mortifying, she mentally repeated, then stared into s.p.a.ce. Except...now that she thought about it, she had been the only one who had been embarra.s.sed when she'd encountered the Bardows, Renaults and MacAllisters.

Oh, would she ever be able to relax and just... just be around her family and those connected to it? She was beginning to doubt it would ever happen.

Brent spun around from where he'd been staring out the window when he heard the rather tentative knock on the door of his suite.

"Alice," he said, aware that his heart had increased its tempo. "She's here, at long, long last."

He strode across the room and flung the door open, not taking the time to look through the safety hole.

And then he just stood there, drinking in the sight of Alice.

She was here, after a day that had seemed like a week. She was here, looking so lovely, delicate and feminine. She was here, and if he didn't take a breath in the next two seconds he was going to pa.s.s out cold on his face.

As Brent filled his lungs with much-needed air, he extended one hand to Alice. She placed her hand in his and allowed him to draw her into the room.

Brent closed the door behind Alice, then dropped her hand and moved close, causing her to b.u.mp into the door. He braced his hands on either side of her head and looked directly into her eyes, his body only inches from hers.

All the thoughts in Trip's mind disappeared into a sensuous mist as she gazed into Brent's blue eyes. The tips of her fingers tingled with the urge to touch him, but she kept her arms at her sides.

Time lost meaning as they stood there, not moving, hardly breathing, antic.i.p.ating the moment when their lips would meet. Heat began to churn low and hot within them as the tension built and their desire soared.