Seduction:Her British Stepbrother(26)

It wasn't just about sex between them anymore. That undeniable pull  inside her heart that had drawn her to him like a moth to a flame was  only growing. Her beautiful, brooding Tristan, with a heart he jealously  guarded from hurt, was trying to comfort her, and she wanted to comfort  him back.

But neither of them knew how to get out of this mess.

"What will we tell them?"

"We got caught in a charity event and couldn't say no. We just did what  the photographer told us to." He leaned over and pressed his lips  against her neck. Riotous waves of pleasure from that slow, seductive  kiss overrode her panic, if only for a moment. Tristan's kisses made her  fall through time and space until she lost herself in his private  universe.

"We'll get out ahead of it. I'll tell them first thing. If we're open  about it, they won't think we're hiding anything. Say you trust me,  Kat." He cupped her face and, just like that, she was entirely lost in  his gaze. Blue-green eyes, so rare a color … Once she looked into them,  she was caught, entranced, unable to look away.

"I trust you." She did. More than anyone else in the world, except her  father. Trusting him was the foundation of their relationship. He'd let  her bind one of his wrists to her bed with a leather belt the second  night they'd spent together, just to let her have control, and to learn  that she could trust him. It had worked, of course. The man knew how to  seduce a woman with trust.

"Good." He pressed a feather-light kiss to her lips, then jerked away as the kitchen door opened.

Tristan's mother, Lizzy, stood there, eyes darting between the two of  them. Her long, blonde hair was pulled back into a fashionable chignon,  and she was dressed for the cold weather, her gloves damp with snow and  her boots shiny with water.

Kat blinked, then swallowed hard as she realized Lizzy must've already gone out, which meant she might have seen …                        
       
           



       

"Tristan, I was just out, and saw the most unusual … er … " Lizzy's face  turned red as her gaze betrayed the nature of her thoughts, when it  darted to Kat and then back to him again. She fidgeted slightly, her  lips parted as she licked them as though she were nervous.

Tristan stood, smoothing his sweater, and offered his mother a smile.

"You saw the charity photograph, didn't you? You see, it's quite the  story. Kat and I were Christmas-tree shopping when a photographer begged  us to be her models for the shoot. We felt obligated to aid her, for  charity, of course. Isn't that right, Kat?" His tone implied that she  ought to join in their little game of secrets.

Secrets. She hated them, but she wanted to be with Tristan, at any cost.

Kat got to her feet, keeping a safe distance from Tristan, even though she wanted to reach for his hand.

"Yes, Jillian was very sweet, and we couldn't turn her down, even when  she told us we'd have to reenact Snow White. We're happy she won the  contest. There were two other photographers involved in the fairy-tale  photo shoots." She did her best not to sound too falsely excited.

"Oh?" Lizzy's voicing of that one syllable seemed to be a challenge, not a threatening one, but a worried one.

"Yes, it was far too awkward, the whole situation, but we endured for  the sake of charity, didn't we, Kat?" Tristan walked over to the fridge  as he spoke and retrieved a pitcher of orange juice, pouring himself a  glass, as though he weren't concealing the fact that he and Kat were  sleeping together.

Lying seemed so easy for him, but it wasn't for her. It was like swallowing jagged rocks every time Lizzy looked at her.

"Well, that was certainly nice of you to help with something that goes  toward a good cause." Lizzy continued to stare at Kat, her brow furrowed  as though deep in thought, but she was stopped from saying anything  further when Kat's father strolled into the kitchen.

He was smiling and humming.

"Only one day until Christmas," he announced and leaned over to press a  kiss on Lizzy's cheek before he hugged Kat. "Morning, sweetheart." Then  he nodded at Tristan. "Tristan."

"Clayton." Tristan inclined his head, and then his gaze darted to Kat.

"Everyone have their shopping done?" Clayton asked.

Lizzy cleared her throat. "Actually, I need to grab a few things, and I  thought if Kat wanted to come, just the two of us could go."

"Mum, I could take you-" Tristan took a small step between his mother and Kat, as though to protect her.

"I'd love to go," Kat said. With a hand on Tristan's hip, she nudged him  aside. He moved reluctantly. If she had to pick which parent to be  around for the next few hours, Lizzy was a lot less scary than her dad  when it came to her keeping secrets.

"Kat, how much time do you need? I'm ready to leave as soon as you are."  Lizzy already held a small, casual black clutch purse in one hand.

"A few minutes. I just need to grab my shopping list." She glanced between her father and Tristan before bolting for the door.

Heart racing, she ran up the stairs and slid to a halt just inside the  room. Blood pounded in her head, drumming against her temples. Keeping  secrets had never been a talent of hers. She'd never had actual secrets  to safeguard before, and now she had the mother of all secrets trapped  inside her, building into a violent storm. It was going to escape, and  soon.

The question was, who would survive the fallout?

She took only two steps farther into her room, when a hand settled on  her waist from behind, and she sucked in a little shriek. Another hand  clamped around her mouth, cutting off the sound. A tall, lean, muscled  body pressed against her back.

"Shh … you have to calm down, Kat." Tristan's too-sexy accented voice  rumbled against her right ear, his warm breath tickling the fine hairs  on her skin. He was so warm … and hard behind her. The pounding of his  heart pulsed against her back, through the thin layers of their clothes,  and she felt that inexorable pull toward him.

Like gravity. God, the man was the personification of sinful temptation. She'd never stood a chance.

He dropped his hand from her mouth but kept a grip on her waist. There  was always a hint of domination in him whenever he touched her, and she  craved that more than anything. She leaned back against him, absorbing  his heat and strength. Being with him, even secretly like this, made her  feel so alive, so feminine and sexy … but it wasn't just about the sex.

From the start, she and Tristan had been connected on a level she'd  never thought possible. It hadn't been love at first sight, she didn't  believe in that, but it had been obsession at first sight. Something  about him had pulled her in, like a whirlpool in the Amazon River,  drawing her deeper and deeper into him. Now she was unable and unwilling  to escape. He'd let her have a glimpse into his soul, and she'd fallen  hard and fast. It was a dangerous thing to be in love with Tristan  Kingsley.                       
       
           



       

"You don't have to go with my mum." He flicked his tongue into her ear,  and she shivered. "You could stay right here … " Tristan let his words  hang in the air with sensual promise.

"As tempted as I am, I should go. I haven't bought your present yet, and Christmas is tomorrow."

Tristan chuckled and rubbed a palm on her stomach. "The only present I  want is you naked beneath me in my bed." He kissed her cheek and held on  to her for a long moment.

It always stunned her that he had the power to turn a moment focused on  sex to something packed with emotion. From the second he'd walked into  the pub a few weeks before, her life had been an emotional roller  coaster.

Kat turned in his embrace and clung to him. "I'd like that a lot, but I  do need to shop. And spending time with your mom might be a good thing  for both of us."

He pulled back so he could stare down at her. "We haven't talked much  about our parents getting married." He tipped her chin up with one  elegant finger, and Kat bit her lip before replying.

"I'm dealing." She was coping, but not fantastically. Her mother had cut  and run on her and her dad so long ago, she'd forgotten how to share  her father with another woman. "What about you?" she asked. Tristan had  always kept himself cool, collected, almost satirical in his approach to  their parents, but he had to be hurting like she was.

For a brief instant, he shrugged, that wall of imperial control  descending on his face, but then he softened. "Me and Mum … we aren't used  to sharing each other. I've been the man in the household for a long  time, and it's been disconcerting to relinquish most of that control to  your father in the last week."