Free Silver Miracles by Fayrene Preston

What was she letting herself in for?
    Trinity swallowed hard. She had one more question. "No sex?"
    "No sex," he agreed, maybe a little too easily. "But don’t expect me to resist kissing you."
     
    #
     
    And so it started—their dating. To say it was an interesting experience would have been grossly to understate the case. Chase exhibited a restless energy, leading Trinity through some of Dallas’s most expensive restaurants, finest homes and elegant clubs with a flattering attentiveness. He had been born into the exclusive world of the highly privileged, and he took it for granted.
    And yet, knowing Chase as she now did, Trinity sometimes sensed that this was not the type of life Chase really wanted. She couldn’t help but feel that if one dug far enough beneath the hardness of the man, one would find a core of sadness, perhaps even emptiness.
    One night after dinner, he took her to his penthouse apartment and watched her reaction to the hopelessly modern decor of the place with quiet amusement.
    The apartment sprawled across the top of one of Dallas’s newest luxury condominium complexes. Thick white carpet swept toward walls of tinted glass. Ultra-contemporary pieces of smoked glass and shining chrome accentuated the clean lines of the white custom-designed couches. The room had a stark beauty that was set off by a profusion of white candles and a melange of bronze sculptures, and the neutral-colored walls provided a backdrop for the artful splashes of color in the many paintings hanging around the room.
    To Trinity’s surprise, she liked it. A child couldn’t be raised with any sort of freedom in an environment like this. For that matter, she wouldn’t want to live here, either. But the room was tastefully done, and it suited what she knew about Chase, reflecting a controlled sophistication, an elegant austerity.
    But his bedroom was surely the highlight—and the revelation—of the tour. The room was dominated by a massive bed set high up on a platform, with steps leading up to it. The bed was covered with a rich, soft gray suede, and the headboard was nothing but pillows—pillows piled upon more pillows, dozens of pillows in assorted sizes, shapes and hard, bold colors of vivid blues, bright reds and hot corals.
    The crowning touch of the room was the large mirror on the ceiling, perfectly centered over the bed. Trinity walked around the bed, viewing the mirror from different angles. Finally, she turned to Chase, with a smile tugging at her full lips. "How do you clean it?"
    His laughter, a low, throaty sound, roared around the room, making Trinity’s heart beat faster. Chase laughed so rarely that, when he did, it was a treasure to be stored up and cherished.
    Pulling her into his arms, he looked down at her. "No one but you, Trinity Ann Warrenton, would think to ask a question like that."
    "But it’s a very practical consideration."
    "My cleaning service," he assured her, "must have no trouble cleaning it, because I’ve never heard a word about it."
    "Cleaning service? You call the people that clean your apartment a ‘cleaning service’? Chase, how impersonal! You don’t even know the names of the people who clean your apartment. At least if you had a maid, you might just know her name. You know, perhaps you might have come upon her one day and asked—"
    "Shut up, Trinity!" Chase advised pleasantly. Picking her up and holding her close, he fell back on the bed, and Trinity landed with a soft bounce beside him.
    "What are you doing?"
    "I’m about to show you, my wild, beautiful creature, the advantages of having a mirror on the ceiling," he enlightened her, lowering his lips to hers and softly rubbing them back and forth, until she had to reach up and hold his head still, pressing her lips to his in a long, deep kiss that made slow heat seep through her body, right down to her toes.
    Chase unbuttoned her blouse and took it off, and Trinity didn’t protest. He ran the palm of his hand across the tips