All her muscles went tight, anticipation making her heart race.
A dense, heavy silence fell.
Lucas stared at his brother, giving him one of those cold, penetrating looks, as if trying to figure out what was going on. Van said nothing, all his attention focused on Chloe.
She felt like she couldn’t breathe all of a sudden.
“Okay,” Lucas said eventually, when the tension had drawn to screaming point. “Suit yourself.”
As soon as the door had shut behind him, Van said, “Come here.”
Her heartbeat shuddered in her chest.
He could have been carved out of rock for all the expression he gave. Tall, dark, powerful. Like a mountain and just as contained. Except for the look in his eyes. It burned, a clear, deep gold.
She didn’t hesitate, moving toward him then stopping right in front of him. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but something about the way he was looking at her made her hold back.
His gaze roved over her instead, intent and fierce, as if making sure she was all there. “Are you okay?” It sounded harsh, like a demand. “Did he hurt you?”
“No.” It was hard to meet the intensity of that stare for some reason. “I’m fine.”
“Good.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the sitting room. “Let’s go sit down. We need to talk.”
A weird, uncertain feeling gathered in the pit of her stomach. He was acting strange. After that kiss he’d given her beside the ice rink, she’d expected … well, she didn’t know what she’d expected, only that it wasn’t this ferocious stare.
Perhaps he was pissed about her getting into de Santis’s car?
“Look,” she began. “About last night—”
“Go and sit down,” he interrupted, not ungently.
The uncertain feeling twisted inside her. Okay then, fine. If he wanted her to go sit down where they could talk, then she’d go sit down.
She turned and went into the sitting room, seating herself on the comfortable cream sofa and folding her hands neatly in her lap.
She’d compared this room with the one in de Santis mansion when she was held there the night before, and she’d wished she was back here where it was more comfortable and homey. But right now it felt neither comfortable nor homey. Especially not when Van came in, bringing all that tension with him as he closed the door and moved over to where she sat.
He halted in front of her, folding his arms across his broad chest. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
“I’m sure.” She picked up the end of the belt on her robe and toyed with it to give her hands something to do. “He didn’t physically hurt me, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Good.” His gaze ran over her, as if he didn’t quite believe her and had to check for himself. “Because if he had, I’d kill him.”
The uncertainty inside her loosened just a bit. It was probably sick to like that fierce note in his voice, but she did all the same. He had been worried about her, hadn’t he?
She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “I’m sorry I got into that damn limo. He just wasn’t going to tell me anything unless I…”
Van abruptly crouched down in front of her, making her break off as he reached for her hands, lacing her chilly fingers with his warm ones. “That’s not important right now.” His gaze pinned her to the spot, made her forget what she’d been going to say. “De Santis has footage of us at Rockefeller Plaza. When I kissed you. I presume you know that?”
“Yes. He said he was going to use it to blackmail you if you attempted to rescue me.” Her heartbeat got faster, louder. “Van, I don’t know what—”
“Oh, he certainly tried to blackmail me.” There was a hard cast to Van’s beautiful mouth. “He failed.”
Relief coursed through her. “What happened? Lucas said you had a meeting with him, but he didn’t give me any details.”
“I went to negotiate.” He lightly rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, the smile on his face the one she remembered from so long ago—warm and reassuring. “Or rather, to inform him that I don’t give away what’s mine. Especially not to people who threaten me or anyone else I care about.”
“Oh.” The word came out breathless, the brush of his thumb over her skin stealing all the air from her lungs. Making her feel needy and so aware that it had been a whole twelve hours since she’d touched him, and that that was twelve hours too long.
“You know what else is mine?” he went on in that steady voice, his thumbs stroking the backs of her hands over and over. “You are, Chloe. You and the company are both mine and I’m not handing either of you over to anyone ever again.”
The words took a second to sink in. Wait, what? She was his? What did that mean?
Yet even as her brain rushed to catch up, her heart had already made the leap, throwing itself off the edge of the cliff, tumbling end over end, falling like a stone.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t going to fall for him.
She swallowed, trying to get some air, the thought resounding in her head like an echo. What? Fall for him? No, she hadn’t fallen for him. She hadn’t.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Van continued, as if he hadn’t just thrown her into absolute chaos. “I’m leaving the military, effective immediately, and I’m taking control of Tate Oil. Once the footage of you and me hits the internet, it’ll be the final straw for my superiors, which pretty much means my career in the Navy is screwed. They didn’t like me being the Tate heir anyway, and that footage will put the final nail in the coffin.” His thumbs began to move in small, light circles. “Now, Tate Oil management won’t be happy once they see that footage either, but”—he paused, the intent look in his eyes becoming even more certain—“I have a plan for how to handle that.”
Her mouth felt dry, full of cotton, and she wasn’t sure why. “What plan?”
“People are going to be shocked when they find out you and I have been having an affair. People are going to be appalled. Dad’s adopted kids screwing around and playing with his money, yeah, it’s going to look really bad. The press will be a nightmare and I can’t have that.”
She wanted to pull her hands away, put some space between them, because that feeling in her chest, the sound of her heart falling into the chasm, was overwhelming and she couldn’t think. But the way he was stroking her, gentle and warm, sucked all the strength right out of her.
“Van,” she began thickly.
“It’s okay, pretty.” His thumbs pressed lightly on the backs of her hands. “I’ll protect you. I keep my promises, remember?”
“How? I mean … what are you going to do?”
There was gold in his eyes, gleaming bright. “I’m going to marry you, Chloe. That’s what I’m going to do.”
* * *
Van watched as Chloe’s dark chocolatey eyes went wide, shock moving over her small, delicate features.
“Marry me?” Her voice sounded hoarse. “You can’t be serious?”
He tightened his fingers around hers, feeling her skin chill and instinctively chafing it to warm it up. “Of course I’m serious. You really think I’d joke about something like that?”
Color had risen to her cheeks. “Van, that’s … crazy.”
Okay, so she was shocked. He’d expected that. It did sound crazy. But once he explained, she’d see that it made sense. That it was the logical step to keep both her and the company safe.
Hell, even if she didn’t see that, surely she’d accept that this was also a good answer for her emotionally. She would be his, which meant she could move to New York if she wanted to, live with him here at the Tate mansion. Or hell, he could come out and visit her in Wyoming whenever he got a moment. But one thing he was certain of was that she’d never be lonely again, not if he could help it.
He stared at her, running his gaze over her once again to make sure she was okay, that de Santis, the prick, hadn’t hurt her. She’d obviously just had
a shower and he could smell damp skin and soap, and he wanted to put his mouth right at her pale throat where her pulse was beating fast and hard.
Christ, already the need for her was running through him like electricity through high tension wires, humming, vibrating. The need to pull her into his arms, touch her, hold her. Crush that lovely mouth beneath his and taste her.
He nearly had the moment he’d walked into the Tate mansion and seen her standing on the stairs, an intense powerful emotion crashing through the military calm that he’d maintained since leaving de Santis’s place swamping him.
She’d been swathed in the gray robe he’d used a couple of times, looking so small and vulnerable, her hair in a damp black tangle down her back, and her face pale. And he’d had to hold himself absolutely still so he didn’t cross the space between them and catch her in his arms, hold her close, and breathe her in. Reassure himself that she was actually here and whole and unhurt.
He couldn’t, not with Lucas standing there staring a hole right through him. Jesus, the guy was going to have an aneurysm when Van got around to telling him what he intended to do with Chloe, no question.
Right now though, there was nothing between him and the woman sitting on the couch. And no one standing there watching them. They were alone.
He suddenly wanted to pull open the tie of the robe, push apart the edges of it, see if she was naked underneath. Touch her, show her all the ways she was his …
Settle the fuck down. There’ll be time for that.
Yeah, there would. First, he needed to talk.
“It’s not crazy,” he said, forcing himself to limit his touch to that steady, reassuring stroke over the backs of her hands. “I told you, once it gets out that you and I are having an affair, it’s going to be a goddamn media circus.”
The color in her cheeks vanished. “I’m sorry. Perhaps if I hadn’t suggested we meet—”
“No,” he interrupted softly, not wanting to waste time with recriminations when the situation they had to deal with was the only thing that mattered. “Don’t go getting into that. What’s done is done. We can’t change it. The only thing we can do is deal with the consequences. Hell, that was my fault anyway. I shouldn’t have kissed you and I did.”
She looked down at their intertwined hands, her cheeks still pale. “He told me he’d give me the answers if I came with him, so I had to go. There wasn’t any time to tell you what was happening and … underneath all that I just wanted to meet my father. Talk to him face to face.”
Van stilled his thumbs on her skin, tightening his fingers around hers. “He’s your family, of course.”
Her gaze lifted to his abruptly. “No,” she said, a familiar glow in her dark eyes. “He’s no family of mine.”
Perhaps that shouldn’t have made him feel as good as it did, because clearly being kidnapped by de Santis hadn’t exactly been pleasant for her. Yet he felt pleased all the same. He didn’t want her finding a family with that asshole, not when she had one right here with him.
“He told me stuff,” Chloe went on, the glow in her eyes getting brighter. “He wants the company, Van. That’s always been what he’s after.”
“Yes, I know,” he said gently. “Which is why we need to talk about you becoming my wife.”
She stared at him. “Why?”
For some reason he found the blunt question irritating. “What do you mean why? You don’t agree?”
Her hands had gone still in his. “I guess I don’t understand what the point of it is.”
He frowned. Hadn’t he explained clearly enough? “The point is to keep you safe. To protect you from the media. It’ll be better when it comes to the company too, since people are already pissed about how Dad fired the board and put me and Wolf and Lucas in their place. If they find out you and I have been screwing around, it’s going to make the situation even worse.” He found his gaze lingering on the curve of her bottom lip, so soft and full. He couldn’t look away.
“So, this is all about keeping me safe and protecting the company then?”
“Not entirely.” All it would take to kiss her would be to pull her hands toward him and for him to lean forward. That beautiful mouth would be right there. “I can’t imagine people at the ranch will be all that impressed, so this will protect your position there, should you want to go back. Plus, we’ve got some great chemistry too, don’t you think?”
“What do you mean ‘should I want to go back’? Of course I want to go back. That was the whole point.”
The small thread of irritation wound tighter. “Chloe.” He tried to keep his impatience out of his tone, because time was ticking and he didn’t need her getting cold feet. “The ranch doesn’t matter right now. We have to make a decision on this and quickly, because de Santis is going to release that footage and we have to have an answer ready. So, what’s the issue?”
Her chin came up at that, her gaze darker than midnight. “I thought you wanted to go back to the military. That’s what you kept saying. That I was a responsibility you didn’t want anyway, and once you’d neutralized de Santis you were going back to base.”
There was something in her tone he couldn’t quite figure out, which didn’t help his temper. “Yeah, I know what I said, but I changed my mind, okay? It’s not like we have a lot of other options.”
“Great, so you’re marrying me because you don’t have any other options.”
This time he heard the hurt in her voice loud and clear. “No,” he said flatly, inwardly cursing because it was obvious he wasn’t explaining himself very well. “It’s not only that. You don’t have to go back to the ranch, not if you don’t want to. You can stay here with me. Or I’ll come and see you in Wyoming, whatever you like. Point is, you won’t have to be alone anymore, okay? I’ll be there for you, Chloe.”
There was a flush in her cheeks now, a glow in her eyes. But it wasn’t because she was happy, he knew that. “So you’re giving up your military career, giving up basically everything, so that poor little Chloe doesn’t have to be alone anymore. Do you know how pathetic that makes me sound?”
“That’s not—”
“And then there’s the fact that you’re assuming I want to move to New York, when for the past week you’ve known how important the ranch is to me and how much I want to be back there. And we won’t even go into how you, dropping in to visit whenever you damn well feel like it, isn’t at all like Dad only bothering to come when he had the time. Which he never did.” Her voice had become sharper, that note of pain like the edge of a knife beneath the anger.
Christ, he really had handled this badly.
Van firmed his grip on her hands, engulfing those cold, slender fingers in his. “You’re not pathetic. And it wouldn’t be like that. I have to be here for the company, but there’s no reason that at some point down the track I couldn’t come out to Wyoming on a semi-permanent basis. You could visit me in New York whenever you wanted anyway. I’m not going to keep you like some goddamn princess in a tower like Dad did.”
But the look in her eyes didn’t even flicker. “That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean then?”
“I don’t want to be another mission you didn’t ask for.” The expression on her face was suddenly fierce. “I don’t want to be a responsibility you didn’t want. And I’m certainly not going to marry you because of some damn media storm or the fact that you don’t want me to be lonely.”
Instantly, tension gathered between his shoulder blades, a familiar possessive feeling rising inside him. Of all the times for her to get stubborn … He had to concentrate not to crush her fingers in his, pull her violently forward to take her mouth, kiss the denial away.
Okay, so he understood why this might be a problem for her, but couldn’t she see that this was the best way to handle their situation? Not wanting to marry him didn’t change the fact that the footage was still out there and they couldn’t stop de Santis from releasing it.
Besides, he wasn’t s
imply marrying her to protect her from the media or to stop her from being lonely. He wanted her too. Didn’t that count for something?
“You’re not a mission and you’re not a responsibility.” He struggled to keep the possessiveness out of his voice. “I want you, Chloe.”
“I know you do.” Her gaze burned into his. “But wanting isn’t enough.”
“What the fuck does that mean? What more is there?”
Her throat moved, her pulse beating fast beneath her delicate pale skin. “Tell me something. If none of this had happened, if there was no footage, if there was no de Santis. If there was just you and me, would you still be here in front of me, holding my hands and asking me to marry you?”
His impatience gathered tighter. “There’s no point in what-ifs. That’s not the reality. We have to deal with the situation as it is, not how we want it to be.”
As soon as the words came out of his mouth he knew he’d said the wrong thing, because Chloe’s expression abruptly closed up like a fan. “Yeah, and that’s why my answer is no.”
A hot, raw emotion twisted inexplicably inside him. “Jesus Christ, why not? Can’t you see that this is the best decision for both of us?”
“No, Van. It’s the best decision for you.”
He stared at her. “What the fuck do you mean by that?”
“This scandal isn’t going to affect me as much as you think it will. Yes, the ranch might be a problem, but everyone there knows me. They’ll understand once I explain it to them. And as for the media, I don’t care about them.”
“Yes, but—”
“Don’t kid yourself that this is about my protection,” she cut him off. “This is about that girl you failed to save, isn’t it? This is about being the perfect Tate heir. About Dad and living up to his standards.”
He was holding her hands tightly—probably too tightly—but he couldn’t bring himself to let her go. There was a hot ember of anger glowing inside him at the way she’d managed to home in on the most painful topics possible. Fuck, he should never have told her about Sofia or about Noah. Not if she was going to bring them up to use against him.
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