Risky (Torn Between Two Lovers #2)(49)

The raw power that Trace always seemed to exude was still present, but the vulnerability that he was willing to let show in his eyes would have brought me to my knees if I had been standing.

I knew that it was time to let go, to release myself from my past. Everything that had happened was unfortunate, but karma had given me an unbelievable future, and a man who would never let me feel alone and afraid again. If I had to do it all again just to end up where I was now, I’d do it just to be with him. Maybe I’d still have an occasional nightmare, and I didn’t know how I felt about my grandmother, but I could figure that out later. All that mattered was living in the present, and be grateful that fate had thrown Trace Walker into my path.

He was right. I was guilty of nothing except trying to be a better person. From now on, I needed to let go of my anger and hold my head up as high as I possibly could. I was young. I was incredibly happy. And I knew I was capable of doing good things. The Britneys in the world could go to hell.

I lifted my hand and cupped his jaw, letting my fingers play over his lips. “I love you, too, Trace. We’ll let go of the past together.”

“Deal,” he agreed in husky voice. “I have something I want to give you, but I don’t want to make you cry again.”

He made it sound like me crying was worse than torture for him. Didn’t he understand that I was actually tearful because I was overwhelmingly happy?

“I won’t cry,” I promised.

“Good.” He grinned at me as he rolled out of bed and went to his closet and pulled out a framed picture from the bottom of his closet. “I didn’t get a chance to wrap it and put it under the tree.”

For a moment, I’d been temporarily highly distracted by his naked form, my eyes glued to the hottest, tightest ass I’d ever seen. Until he turned around, and I was greeted by the sight of his cock standing at attention. My eyes devoured every defined muscle as he moved back to the bed. God, would I always be rendered mute and stunned just by looking at him naked? Dressed or undressed, the sight of him always took my breath away.

I smiled back at him as I reached out to accept the large frame. It was at least a foot wide and similar in height, and it was heavy, probably because of the ornate frame. I turned it around, and I froze as I looked at the face that seemed to be looking back at me.

It was a picture of my father.

I gasped in surprise, and contrary to my promise, tears welled up in my eyes. “Oh, my God. How?”

I didn’t have a picture of my father. I’d lost everything, including most of my personal items when I’d been incarcerated.

“I found it in public records, and I digitally restored and enhanced it. You look like him, Eva.”


The original photo might have been a work ID, or a picture taken by a coworker. It was a close-up, head and shoulders only, but my dad was smiling into the camera, his broad shoulders covered by one of his usual navy work shirts.

My fingers were trembling as I traced the outline of my father’s face inside the glass cover. “This is how I remember him. No matter how hard he worked, or how hard life was, he was always smiling.”

Trace sat back down on the bed and put his arm around me. “Then you’re very much alike,” he observed.

We were alike. The prominent picture gave me back a little piece of my dad, and made me remember how proud I was to be his daughter. “How do I thank you for something like this?”

“Kiss me?” he suggested hopefully.

I took the picture and carefully set it on my bedside table. It was really too big to set on a shelf, but I’d figure out where to hang it later.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I moved in closer and whispered against his lips, “Thank you.” Then, I kissed him, pouring every emotion I was feeling into the embrace.

It was funny how our Christmas gifts were so similar. I’d actually bought a very large frame and inserted the pictures of him, his father and his brothers into the spaces provided, photos that seemed to be shoved in drawers all over his house. I thought it would look good in his office. Strange how both of us seemed to want the other to remember happier times, a time before our lives had ended up in ruin. That gift, along with a few other small items, was already wrapped and under the tree for him to open in the morning.

We both came out of the kiss almost breathless. Trace stood up and pulled me to my feet, slowly undressing me as though he’d been doing it for years before he lowered me gently to the bed, and tucked the sheets and comforter around me.

He went to the closet and quickly donned a bathrobe and moved toward the door.

“What are you doing?” I asked from my comfortable cocoon.

“Making sure Britney is gone by morning.”

He left before I had a chance to say anything else, but he was back within in a few minutes.

Trace shucked the robe, turned off the light, and slid in beside me. “Done,” he affirmed as he gathered me up in his arms.

I almost purred with contentment as our bodies met skin-to-skin. “That quickly?”

“Sweetheart, she’s not as scary as you might think. She’s a woman who preys on rich men. The last thing she’d do is spill secrets. It’s not good for her future prospects.”

“Is Dane okay?”

“Having her leave early was his idea. Once I told him she was threatening you, he was ready to get rid of her. He likes you. So does Sebastian.”