A Debt Repaid (1) (3 page)

“You
know why.”

“You’re insane.” She looked away, furious.

He didn’t bother to deny it. He hadn’t been normal since he’d been a child.

Logically
, he understood her anger. He didn’t like to be forced into doing anything either. But he wasn’t demanding anything more than a few hours of her time. Hours he was going to put to good use. Damn it, he was going to figure out how she was capable of having such an effect on him.

And
, once he figured it out, if the effect was still there—if her hold on him was still as powerful—he’d make whatever plans necessary to get her to agree to them furthering their acquaintance. He was sure that she would not forgive him easily, and that was fine. Understandable.

If he still wanted her after getting to
know her better, he’d move anything on Earth, do whatever he had to do, to earn her forgiveness. There was nothing he had ever wanted that he hadn’t found a way to have. Life hadn’t just screwed him up and stolen his ability to deal with emotions; it had taught him to fight for whatever he wanted.

Standing
there, watching her stare toward the windows, sunlight causing her eyes to shimmer, he knew he’d never wanted anything more.

Damn him.

Aria’s eyes flickered in his direction. “I'm married," she reminded him with a shake of her head.

Chase tried to keep his facial expression impassive after hearing that.

Keyword there being tried.

"He doesn't deserve you."

"That’s for me to decide. Oh, and neither do you.”

"If you think for one moment that you deserve to be with a man that lies, steals, and cheats on you..."

"Oh, and what? You're better? A man that is trying to force me into being with him?"

“I’m not trying to force you to
be with me
. I want a single date. I would never force a woman to do something like that. Whether you believe me or not, it’s the truth. I’ve never had to force a woman to be with me in that sense.”

“So fucking sure of yourself, aren’t you?” Aria spat.

Chase walked around his desk and leaned against the side of it, crossing his arms. “Tell me something, Aria. Would you have agreed to go on this date with me if I had
asked
you?”

The space between her brows scrunched
up. “Of course not. I’m married.”

Her quick denial was a good sign. A sign of someone that was faithful despite what had
been done to her. A sign of someone who just might be in love, as well.

Her quick denial bothered him on too deep a level. One he didn’t want to stop and analyze. “
Then you see my point? I want to get to get to know you, Aria, and I go after what I want. There was only one viable solution open to me. One way to make that happen.”

“So
you’re saying this has nothing to do with getting even with Douglas?”

He remained quiet, not bothering to deny it. Yes, there was
some of that. Having Douglas’ wife after what he’d done to him would be the perfect revenge against the man considering he wouldn’t be going to jail.

Unfortunately
, that wasn’t his strongest reason.

Nor
could he explain that to her. He might owe her an explanation, but despite what she thought she knew,
he
was in a more vulnerable position than she was.

Aria’s small hands clenched into fists. She held back from reminding him
just what she thought of him, but her eyes said it loud and clear.

Insane.

“You could have just waited, you know?” Aria stated. “Maybe I would have left him.”

“
Maybe?” he mumbled under his breath.

She ignored his mumbled statement. “You should have waited until I was single and
then asked me. Did that ever cross your mind?”

Of course it had.
After
he’d blackmailed her husband, but it had.

The
maybe
in her statement about leaving her husband was the exact reason why he was grateful that he’d taken matters into his own hands. He was not a patient man. Never had been, never would be. “Let me ask you something else. If I had asked, would you have said yes to going out with me?”
Would you have left your husband for cheating on you?
He held back that question, waiting to see her answer to his first.

Aria chewed on her lip
.

“Answer me, Aria.”

“I...I don’t know.”

Again, another reason for him to be glad he hadn’t waited. When it came to her, h
e realized he needed absolutes, not
maybes.
“You will go on this date with me, Aria. We will have dinner, and talk. I am asking for no more than that, nor do I plan to force you in any way to give me more.”

A frustrated exhale left her lips. Her eyes rolled upwards and locked with the ceiling for a second before she started pacing. “This is the most asinine situation.”

He didn’t bother disagreeing.

“What the hell
could you get out of us ‘just having dinner’?” She came to a halt, spinning to face him. Exasperation was written all over her face. Her dark hair was a mess tumbling down her shoulders.

Chase crossed his arms. It was his way of restraining himself. A reminder to his body that he
couldn’t walk up to her and take that beautiful face into his hands. “I already told you what I get out of it: time with you.”

“You
know, that would actually sound romantic if we weren’t in this messed up situation.”

The hard, unwavering
stare she leveled him with had him running his hand across his neck.

She
just continued on, staring at him.

He ran his hand across his short, close-cropped hair next.

Fuck. Was he nervous?

She remained
still, eyes on him, her lashes fanning in front of her eyes with each blink. “I still don’t believe you.”

Chase straightened off his desk, lips parting, surprised.

Aria held up a hand, putting a halt to whatever he’d been about to say. “Douglas worked in your non-profit sector.” She stopped there, an angry expression flickering across her face.

So she understood. She understood damn well that her husband had been pocketing money that had
been raised for many causes, most of which involved children’s hospitals.

“He stole money meant for..
.for…” She swallowed hard. “And he used it to...to do things...he…”

There it was. A crack. A momentary lapse in her facade. The chink in her strong armor. A glimpse that lasted less than a second.
Then, it was gone, lost behind her hands as she rubbed her face. By the time she lowered her hands, only the frustration remained visible.

But he’d seen enough to
know she wasn’t dealing with the reality of who her husband was.

She
was
disgusted
by it.

Her chest rose and fell with a deep breath. “He does all that and you claim he won’t go to jail
if I go on this date with you. Hundreds of thousands of dollars, if not millions. And all you ask in return for his freedom is a simple date. Again, Mr. Blaine, I do not believe that’s all you want.”

For a second, he
was taken aback by her shrewd expression. “A date with you isn’t all I want. It’s the one thing I
demand
in return for his freedom.” The most expensive date of his life by far considering how much Douglas had stolen. “But the only thing I want? No. Definitely not.”

His eyes
caressed the stubborn set of her jaw. It was out of his control; he couldn’t help it. He’d met so many agreeable women in his life. Most of them had been so willing to do whatever he’d asked, just to please him.

But not her. She
wasn’t intimidated by his personality, and she wasn’t interested in his money. Aria was in his office, arguing with him, despite the fact that she was scared of him. Of what he wanted.

Despite what Douglas had done to her, she
was determined to help the bastard avoid jail time.

Chase didn’t allow himself to analyze her reasons behind that last one. She crossed her arms, he did the same, and they stood there for what seemed like forever, looking at each other.

Finally, with a shake of her head, Aria broke the silence. “Your word should mean nothing to me, but I want you to give it to me. Swear to me that after I go on this date, and only on this date, you will leave Douglas alone.”

CHASE HAD GIVEN HER his word. He’d done so because he had every intention of doing as he’d promised. One date. Just a few short hours in his company and her husband would be left alone.

Aria stormed out of his office right after, without a word. They
hadn’t even discussed when and where their date was going to take place. Chase knew how to reach her and she knew where to find him. He wasn’t worried.

The
look on her face when she’d left, now that worried him.

Since when
did
he
do worried?

Since he’d met her, apparently.

More than once over the last few days, Chase had to stop himself from picking up the phone and calling her to cancel the whole thing.  He couldn’t forget the way she’d stared at him before leaving. The helplessness and anger in her stare. What seemed to be betrayal, blazed out of her eyes—an accusation that burned.

For the first time in a long while, he was dealing with guilt. He
fucking hated it. Hated what it was trying to convince him to do. If he canceled his date with Aria, he would never have a chance to spend even that little bit of time with her.

It was
all he was going to get. He knew that now. The more he thought about the way she’d looked at him, the more convinced he became: she was never going to forgive him for blackmailing her.

Chase
wished she didn’t have the effect she had on him. Then he wouldn’t care.

About
her.

About
anything.

Bullshit.
The fact that she had the power to make him care about things was what had him so damned hooked. The woman was a novelty in every sense he could think of. The amount of lust she pulled out of him was ridiculous.

But lust he knew. It was something he understood. The lust he
felt might have been unprecedented—at least as far back as he could remember—but it was still within the realm of familiarity.

The memory of how her large blue eyes looked was
all it took for his predicament to become clear. Indeed, the issue wasn’t that he felt lust when he thought of her—it was that he was feeling a host of other shit he couldn’t make sense of.

He
had no clue on how to analyze what he was going through. The emotions were out of reach. No matter how much he tried to focus on them, they were like blurry images right in front of his face. He knew they were there, but no matter how hard he squinted, he couldn’t begin to make sense of the lines he saw behind the fog.

Chase knew what his therapist
would say to that. He hadn’t felt or recognized any form of emotion besides lust in years. He’d been six the last time he’d felt
anything.

He
remembered the connection he’d had with his mother. The hugs and kisses that made him happy. He’d been addicted to them, always running back to her for more. “A momma’s boy” as his father sneered so many times.

Chase
also remembered looking up to his father. Being desperate for his attention—his approval. More than anything, Chase remembered feeling wrong for even wanting his father to care about him. After all, even at the age of five, he’d known deep down what a piece of crap his father was.

Then, the man
had taken Chase’s mother from him. Experiencing it
,
and witnessing it
,
had been bad enough. The fact that money and influence had helped that man get away with taking her life…

Chase remembered the explosion of rage that
had wracked his small body after getting the news. It was within that same hour that his six-year old brain shut down. One moment
,
he’d been crying, screaming, and breaking everything in his room while his nanny tried to calm him
down. The next, he was numb, eyes dry, sitting on his bed and staring unblinking at the walls of his room.

Since that day he’
d been cold. A shell. The fact that he’d grown up and done everything in his power to ruin the man responsible—taking his father’s empire out from under him
,
and making it his own—had not been a matter of Chase hungering for vengeance.

In order for him to crave vengeance, he’d have to have felt some form of hate for the man. Chase didn’t. Destroying his father’s life had been all about logic. A matter of justice, really. The laws of cause and effect dictated that if one took a life, one should pay for it in some way.

The justice
system, as flawed as it was, failed to uphold that tenet. It made sense to make his father pay in some way. When he’d found out that Douglas Colton had been stealing from his company, there hadn’t been any real anger, either. Just the logical conclusion that the man must pay.

And the payment in this case
would be the sweetest.

When Aria barged into that living room, she’d presented the best opportunity to make that happen. At least, that was the
initial thought going through Chase’s head. The reality was much more complicated than that. After all, throwing a weak, pathetic man like Douglas into jail would be vengeance enough.

No, it
had been all about the feeling. One glimpse of her, and all his logic had been stripped from him, as if it were his own skin being peeled off.

Shifting
in his seat, he leaned his elbow on the windows ledge. The world outside that window passed by, but not because the car was moving. They were covering a few inches every other minute, thanks to the traffic they were stuck in.

He was going to be late to his meeting.

Fuck it. He dialed his secretary. “Cynthia, cancel my two o’ clock. I won’t be making it on time.” He waited long enough to get her confirmation, then hung up the phone. Leaning back in his seat, he turned to stare back out the window—

Aria.
Just like that, he shot straight in his seat, heart speeding up until the pounding was all he could hear and feel. For a second, he doubted it was her, but another glimpse confirmed it. She was standing in front of a minivan parked at the curb, talking to a young teenage boy.

Chase spared a second to let his driver know that he
would be taking the rest of the day off. Then he was out of the car, weaving his way through the stalled traffic, his eyes locked on Aria.

“
Ms. Aria, please let me get that for you.”

Aria stopped and turned to Josh with a mock glare. “Do I
look like a weakling to you?”

Despite the fact that she was just joking with him, the boy turned beat red and ducked his head in embarrassment. “No,
ma’am. But mom always says that I shouldn’t let a lady do the heavy lifting.”

That kid
could melt an iceberg. He really could. Aria felt bad for the ladies once he got older. He probably had a bunch of his fellow teenage girls crushing over him hard.

Smiling
, she stepped closer to him and ruffled his black hair. She had to reach up to do so
,
since he’d shot three inches above her in the last few months. Josh, of course, turned a few shades redder at her touch. “That’s sweet of you, kiddo. And very gallant.” His brown eyes rolled upward, and she
had no doubt he was trying to remember the meaning of the word “gallant.” Smiling wider, Aria turned back to the minivan. “Gentlemanly,” she explained with a wink.

Any redder and he was going to turn purple.

Laughing, she
shoo’ed
him away. “I’ve got this, Josh. Go on inside
,
.
I’m sure Raquel
’
i
s going to need your help in the kitchen any minute now.”

However
, once he was back inside and Aria had her arms around the huge box of canned soup, she realized that she just might have overestimated her strength. The box was larger than she could wrap her arms around, and when she slid it to the very edge of the trunk, it almost fell out of her arms.

“Shit.” Aria braced her thigh under the box, using her leg to stop it from falling. She winced. The weight of the damned box was going to leave a bruise. She
could feel it forming already. Cursing under her breath, she readjusted her arms, trying for a better grip.

Freaking
hell, she wouldn't be able to carry it inside. She had to slide it back into the minivan, or else it was going to end up on the ground.

A pair of arms came around her at the same time the heat of a body hit her back. An unmistakable voice rasped in her ear, “Let me help you with that.”

No. God help her, no. She froze, staring unblinking into the minivan—
trapped
. Her chest was pressed against the box being slid back into the vehicle, and a hard, male body that she somehow recognized.

“There. I’ve got it. Just move over and I’ll lift it out for you.”

Move over. Move over. Her brain knew those words, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what it was that was being asked of her. The box was slid the rest of the way in. Her eyes fell to the large hand braced against it, mere inches from her own.

She needed air. Something closed around her throat, making it impossible for even a molecule of oxygen to get into her lungs. She swallowed, trying to dislodge whatever it was. Her brain was misfiring, sending heat signals through her veins, making her panic as she continued to fight for breath.

“Aria.”

That voice. So low,
almost harsh. The way it wrapped around her name—warm breath hit her jaw when he moved his mouth closer to her ear. She gasped, the sound strained, feeling the heat and size of his body move closer to her.

Something brushed against the curve of her ass.

“You need to move Aria.”

Panting
breaths slid along her jaw, gaining speed. The shock of feeling her nipples pinch tight made her gasp again.

“As much as I’m enjoying this, we’re in public.” His lips
brushed the shell of her ear, a soft caress. The complete opposite of the harsh and demanding tone he used. “You need to move… because I sure as hell can’t.”

Moving
his right arm was the opening he afforded her. For a moment, while pressed between the lip of the minivan’s trunk and his body, Aria entertained the idea of staying right where she was. She couldn’t breathe right, and yet, his scent still slide into her. It was musky, perfectly mixed with his cologne.

His breath was making her skin throb in a way she’d
never felt before.

“
Aria
.”

This time, there was no denying that his tone
had gone rough. His lips ghosted across her jaw, just close enough for her to feel how he breathed her in. Her name left him once more, a low, desperate sound that called forth an answering little moan from her.

They both tensed so hard that they bumped into each other. He hissed out a low curse. Aria’s brain scrambled to
process the fact that the needy, feminine sound she’d just heard had come out of her.