01 - The Heartbreaker (13 page)

As for Michael, according to Madeline, he was frantic because Sloane knew the truth about her parentage and hadn’t spoken with him yet. She promised she’d talk with him soon and would even have had a short phone conversation except he was in a meeting planning strategy with Robert and Frank. According to her stepmother, both seemed unconcerned about Sloane’s “
illness” or her absence from campaign events, and as agreed, Madeline hadn’t enlightened anyone but Michael.

Sloane hung up, opting not to mention Chase or the fact that her stepmother had assigned him to look out for her. She figured Madeline deserved some motherly liberties. With matters at home as settled as they could be, Sloane changed clothes and headed back to the living room.

She was exhausted from the day’s events. If not for the subjects that still needed discussing, she could easily fall asleep and rest easy with the knowledge that her secret was still safe.

But she still had to deal with Chase.

Exhausted and wired at the same time, Chase stretched his feet out on the table in front of the sofa. Glancing over at the telephone, he noticed the red light flicker off. Sloane had gotten off the phone.

Seconds later, she walked out of the guest room, the smaller bedroom Chase had given her for the time she stayed with him. “Still waters run deep, huh?” she asked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that nothing’s apparent with you. You shocked me back in the bar, with your dominant attitude.” She curled into a corner of the couch, across from him, bringing with her the fragrant scent of vanilla. Now that they’d agreed she’d be staying here, she’d unpacked a few things in his one and only bathroom.

She’d asked him if he minded. He’d said no. He lied. Already she was making herself impossible to forget.

She’d changed out of her bar clothes and now wore a comfortable pair of gray sweats, which covered her legs, while an old pink T-shirt pulled tight over her breasts. And she wore no bra.

He tried to swallow, but his mouth had grown dry. “Would you prefer that I’d have let Dice have his way with you?”

“No.” She managed a laugh. “But now I know there are many sides to Chase Chandler.”

“I could say the same about you, Sloane Carlisle.” Which was why he couldn’t risk taking her into his room, into his bed. Not again.

Though she’d sent out all the right signals earlier tonight, he wasn’t about to take her up on her silent invitation. He was so drawn to every aspect of her personality, even the parts he didn’t yet know, she presented a real risk to his future.

Which brought him back to her secrets. “I think it’s time you told me why you were in Crazy Eights to begin with and why we have to go back Friday night.”

“We?” She wrinkled her nose, questioning his choice of words.

He frowned at her obvious attempt to change the subject. “You already know I’m not letting you go alone. So just fill me in on why we need to go back there at all.”

She leaned against the cushion and shut her eyes. Her hair fell in soft curls over her shoulder and the intoxicating burnished hue stood out in contrast to his bland gray couch. She brought such color and light into an otherwise drab existence. He wanted to stretch her out on the couch and take that light inside of him in the only way he could.

Not now Chandler. Tread lightly,
he warned himself.

“Before I tell you about Samson,” she said, her voice startling him back to reality, “I need to know I can trust you.” She rolled her head to the side and met his gaze.

“Not that I believe in calling in a debt, but I did save your life today. Twice,” he reminded her. “And you’re still questioning whether you can trust me?”

The hurt in his voice took him by surprise. He was a journalist. His interest in her was supposed to be about the facts. Not feelings. But for some reason, his interest was anything but dry and factual.

She bit down on her glossed lips, thinking before she spoke. “I’m trained to be wary of reporters.” She nervously twisted her fingers together.

As a barrier, she was putting up a bigger one than he could have come up with on his own. “We can’t change who we are.”

“True. And I can’t forget things you’ve said.” She drew a deep breath. “Anything I tell you that can help your career, it can also hurt people I love. So forgive me if I need to know and question how much I can trust you, Chase.”

He wished he could offer assurances at the same time his instincts and adrenaline began pumping hard. “Are you asking for my silence?” Because if her secret was as big as she implied, he wondered how and if he could keep such a huge promise.

“I’m hoping that once you hear what I have to say, you’ll understand why you need to keep it quiet. But at some point, I’m guessing the time will seem right for you to expose the story.” She squeezed the armrest on the couch, her fingers turning white. “And that scares me.”

He was frustrated, clueless and completely in the dark. “You’re not giving me a straight answer.”

“I know.” She shifted to her knees and came up beside him.

Her scent knocked him off balance.

She inched closer. “That’s because I haven’t gotten what I want from you yet.”

“Information on my personal life.” He treated her to a wry grin, but he felt anything but sarcastic and light.

“It seems like a fair trade.”

When she faced him, lips inches away, teasing him with their glistening moisture, nothing seemed fair. Especially divulging information on a life he’d always kept private, even from his brothers. And they were his best friends.

But sitting with Sloane in his home, a place where he’d never brought another woman, seemed comfortable and right. “You can’t really want to hear about me, not after the long day we had.”

“Stalling?” she asked him.

He laughed. “No.”

“Then talk.”

“Okay.”

At his agreement, she curled in beside him, letting her body lean against his. He felt the moment her muscles relaxed and she yawned, sighing with what sounded like contentment. Ironic. She was obviously hesitating about revealing too much information to him, yet with this subtle body language, she’d given him trust in a completely different way. Did she realize that?

He did, and it scared him to death. Even talking, divulging his personal secrets, seemed a less painful exercise than thinking about his feelings for Sloane. “My father died when I was eighteen,” he said at last.

He’d never had this conversation with a woman, not even Cindy, whom he’d been intimate with for far longer than any other woman in his past.

“I’m sorry,” Sloane murmured.

He shrugged. “It happened; I dealt with it. I withdrew from college, took over the paper, and helped Mom raise my brothers. There was no other way.” He recalled those days, the pain and difficulties a dim memory, yet one that still drove him now.

As Sloane listened to his words, she finally understood what had shaped him. “You’re a good man, Chase Chandler.” And she knew now what he meant when he spoke of living life for others. How much he was willing to compromise his own life for his family was humbling.

He merely grunted, and she guessed accepting compliments wasn’t easy for him. “It must have been tough.”

“At times. And setting a good example for Rick and Roman was a pain in the ass.” His laugh rumbled through her. “It didn’t leave any room for a social life. Not while they were young and living at home.”

She tensed as she asked, “And what happened to your social life after they moved out?”

“Discretion had become a habit. Besides, living in a small
town, if you don’t want your social life broadcast the next morning, you don’t do anything you might regret. Either that or you spend time in the neighboring town.” His fingers ran over her hair, tangling in the strands as he tugged on her scalp.

“Where does Cindy fit in?” She forced herself to ask him, even as she focused on the sensual feelings he created inside her by the simple act of touching her hair.

“What if I said we had a relationship? Would you leave it at that?”

“If I said I have a relationship with Samson, would you leave it at that? Would you let it go?” she shot back.

He chuckled. “Touché.”

“What kind of relationship?” Sloane had no choice but to push. She wanted answers too badly.

A long period of silence followed and she wondered if he was annoyed.

“We’re lovers,” he said at last.

The pain in her stomach was worse than she’d anticipated. “Present tense?” Sloane was amazed she could speak.

He let out a long breath. “We have an understanding. Neither of us wanted a relationship or anything that would require commitment. We get together when it’s convenient,” he explained.

“You still haven’t answered the original question. Are you still involved?”

“It’s not that simple. You heard her say she hasn’t heard from me in a while.” She felt him shrug, and his fingers began to massage her neck. “With Cindy, the allure has been gone for a long time now. It’s just that she’s . . .”

“Convenient?” Sloane asked hopefully.

“And safe. It kept life simple for me. No worries about my brothers, and with my meddling mother, privacy had its privileges.”

Having met Raina, Sloane managed a laugh. “And what did Cindy have invested in you?” His fingers kept up a steady
rhythm and pressure against her skin. His touch reassured her in some small way. “Because somehow I don’t think she was counting on you picking up a strange woman in a bar.”

“To be honest, I wasn’t counting on it either. But I never made Cindy any kind of promise.”

Sloane wasn’t certain how to feel. He obviously cared about this woman, Cindy, since he’d been in a relationship with her for a long time. But he wasn’t committed to her. He didn’t want to be committed to anyone, Sloane reminded herself.

This wasn’t the first time he’d made such a comment and she’d better make sure she did more than listen. She’d better believe and protect herself because she could fall for him way too easily.

He held Sloane tighter. “I’m a man of my word, and if I make a promise, you can be certain I’ll keep it.”

“Was that your backhanded way of telling me you’ll keep my secret about Samson?” she asked.

“For as long as you need me to keep it quiet. But I guess it’s up to you whether or not to believe me.” He pulled her away from him and she met his steady gaze.

The time had come for her to confide in return. And she would. But first she wanted to seal their agreement with their bodies. She needed that emotional connection, to feel him inside her again and to know that he wanted only her for now.

He inclined his head, waiting for her to reveal her secrets. But instead of talking, she leaned forward, sealing her words with a kiss.

C
hase wanted answers, but when Sloane’s arms came around his neck and her lips brushed across his, his body came alive. When she touched him like this, he found answers of a different sort—and damned if he didn’t like it—but still, he pried her arms apart and held them at her side.

“Samson?” he reminded her.

“I’ll tell you later.” She looked at him with wide, imploring eyes. “After.” She nuzzled his neck with her mouth, her lips warm and soft against his skin. “You have my word,” she assured him. “Just make me feel alive first and I promise to tell you everything you want to know after.”

“Wait.” Her gaze held not just desire but honesty, and since Chase prided himself on reading people, he accepted her answer at face value. But he wasn’t ready to jump into bed. “Needing answers about Samson isn’t all that’s holding me back.” He couldn’t be anything but honest with her.

A slow smile tilted her lips. “I’m sure I know what is. It’s commitment, right? You’re worried I’ll want more than you can give,” she said, reading his mind.

He nodded. Even if she didn’t want more, she deserved more than he could promise or give. “Last time, we knew the rules going in.”

She stroked his cheek, her gaze never leaving his. “And this
time we’d know them too. I’m not staying in Yorkshire Falls beyond finding my . . . beyond finding Samson.”

She’d just given a clue. She’d also given him the reply he thought he needed—the one that would give him permission to release the pent-up passion that had been building all day. Without worrying about commitment. If that were true, why the uncomfortable feeling burning in his gut at the thought of her leaving him a second time?

“Chase?” She licked her finger, then traced his lips, leaving his mouth damp, his body yearning.

He’d be a fool to deny his burning need. In one smooth move, he laid her down on the couch.

“I’m going to have to assume we’re in agreement again.” She giggled, a light, infectious sound that wiped out all the worries and concerns and left him smiling and happy.

Happy. An alien state for him, he acknowledged. “I’d say you’re right.”

He kissed her, hot and deep, thrusting with his tongue, mimicking the movement with his lower body. His erection was thick and heavy between his legs, and he needed the friction of coming inside her with a desperation he’d never felt before.

Taking her hand, he pulled her to her feet and led her into his bedroom, a place he’d always considered his sanctuary. A place he’d come to get away from
Gazette
business, family pressure, and life in general. His haven. And now that she’d set foot inside, he’d never look at this room the same way again.

“Chase?”

He blinked and realized she’d beaten him to the bed and was sitting cross-legged in the center of the mattress. Her hands slid to the hem of her shirt and she pulled the top over her head. Damned if he hadn’t been right. No bra.

He took a step forward, but she held him off with one hand. “Not yet.” A sexy grin took hold of her lips as she reached for the drawstring on her sweats.

Coming up to her knees, she pulled the bow and released the knot, letting her pants fall below her waist. She wriggled and kicked them off before returning to a kneeling position, giving him a clear view of what she wore beneath her pants. A sheer scrap of material covered her feminine mound, so transparent, it teased him with darkened shadows.