by Bella Andre
Jeremy’s face had gone even paler than it already was. “I don’t think they sent more than one of this dress. I’ll look again to make absolutely sure.” He scurried off to look through the huge containers of clothes.
Chloe spoke without thinking. “I’ll fix it.”
Chase turned his green-eyed gaze to her and at the question in his eyes, she said, “I’ve worked with some pretty similar fabrics in my quilts. I can at least try.”
“Amanda, take off the dress.”
The model pulled it off without giving so much as a thought to the fact that she was wearing only very sheer panties beneath the gauzy fabric.
At first it had been a bit of a shock to see how comfortable these young girls were with their near nudity, but then, Chloe figured if she’d had a figure like that when she was nineteen, she would have been smart to flaunt it, too.
More glad than she should have been that Chase didn’t so much as glance at Amanda’s perfect naked breasts, Chloe got up out of her seat and came to get the dress. “Can you wait ten minutes?”
He looked down at the large tear. “You can have this fixed in ten minutes?”
She looked at it more closely, running her fingers along the tear. “I think so.” Satins and silks were always harder to work with because every hole the needle made showed, but she’d been eying the enormous sewing box all day. Now she finally had a reason to dig into it.
Chase called out for a break. She quickly threaded a needle with thin, transparent filament and began to work on the dress. She was so entranced by the soft fabric beneath her fingertips that it took her a few moments to realize Chase was sitting beside her.
“What would I do without you?”
She almost stabbed herself with the needle. Thankfully she was concentrating too hard to have to reply. Actually, she wasn’t concentrating all that hard. After the past year of doing side jobs for the local tailor for what amounted to little more than slave wages, she could sew up things like this in her sleep.
Only, it was more than a little unnerving to have Chase’s full attention like this.
“Don’t you have something else you need to be doing?”
She could feel his grin without needing to see it. “Just keeping my friend company while she does me a favor.”
Friends. He’d agreed to be her friend. So then, why was she a teeny bit disappointed that he hadn’t pushed her for more up on the hill?
No. That was crazy thinking. And she knew exactly where that kind of crazy would lead.
A bed…with Chase in it.
“I’d like to help more,” she told him. “You’ve been so kind to me and I wish there was something more I could do to repay you.”
“Chloe.” The serious way he said her name had her looking up at him. “I wanted to help. You don’t need to repay me for anything. Ever.”
The intensity of his gaze—the utter dedication and focus on her—nearly had her stabbing herself again with the needle.
“I need to concentrate on this,” she lied.
What she really needed was some breathing room from her budding feelings for him.
“Go check on something else,” she told him in her best no-nonsense voice.
Before she looked back down at the dress, she caught a flash of his gorgeous grin. A grin that told her he knew exactly why she was sending him away, darn it.
Ten minutes later, she helped Amanda put the dress back on and found herself blushing as everyone started clapping and telling her how great she was to have repaired it so quickly and so well.
It wasn’t long until the sun set and the models were really drooping.
“Let’s call it a day,” Chase said. “Great work, everyone.” He made sure to include her with his eyes, even though she’d barely done anything to help. “Really, really great.”
Chloe could see how much his praise meant to everyone. Including her.
“My brother, Marcus, is hosting all of us for dinner and drinks at his place tonight.” He pointed to the big house across the vineyard. “Jeremy, why don’t you take everyone over?”
Without being asked, Chloe helped the models out of their dresses, making sure to tell each one of them how impressed she was with the work they’d done. “How do you hold those poses for so long?”
Amanda was already on her cell phone, but Jackie, a shy “older” girl (who was barely twenty-one, but Chloe had already learned that was borderline ancient in their business), said, “I do a lot of yoga.”
The girl’s smile was beautiful and Chloe immediately grinned back at her.
“It was nice to have you on set,” Jackie said. “Kind of like having my mom here to take care of us.”
Chloe somehow managed to hold her grin.
She was only nine years older than Jackie. And yet, she supposed the model was right. If life experience was anything to go by, they were a century apart.
Jeremy loaded the huge van with trunks and racks of clothes and camera equipment, then called everyone together. “Are you coming, Chloe?”
She was tempted to go with the group, rather than stay behind with Chase. But she felt grimy.
Even if she didn’t have nicer clothes to wear to Marcus’s house, the least she could do was smell better than this. A shower was definitely necessary.
“I’m going to freshen up a bit. I’ll see you all there soon.”
Freshen up a bit. Seriously, she even sounded like she was Jackie’s mom.
After everyone left, she turned to look for Chase. Thinking of him made her insides go soft and warm.
At first she couldn’t find him, and then she realized he was standing behind one of his big cameras…and it was pointed straight at her.
She instinctively put her hand over her cheek. Oh God, what was he doing? And what would he see? Would he be able to look beyond the ugly bruise and see that she was a quivering mess of jelly on the inside? Would he see what a coward she felt like for not having called the police yet, for just hiding out here with him and the models and his crew?
And would he see the feelings that had grown for him inside of her heart all day, despite the fact that she knew better than to feel anything at all?
Angry at him—and at herself for even caring in the first place—she started toward him. He’d already lowered the camera by the time she said, “I thought you put all your equipment away.”
“I always feel better if I’ve got at least one on me. Just in case there’s something I need to take a picture of.”
“You don’t need to take pictures of me.”
“I’ve never been able to resist photographing loveliness,” he said softly, before tucking the camera inside his bag. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
The look he gave her—warm and soft, yet full of a desire he didn’t bother to hide—had her realizing just how ridiculous she was being.
“It’s just with this bruise…” she began, lifting her hand to cover it again.
But before she could say anything more, he said, “You’re lovely.”
Her hand was halfway to her face when she realized she didn’t need to hide the bruise from him anymore. Because he didn’t seem to think it made her look ugly. And he didn’t seem to think it made her look weak, either.
Their slow walk back to the guest house through the darkness with only the moonlight to light their way felt impossibly romantic. Far more romantic than she could allow it to be.
“So, when did you start taking pictures?”
He gave her a look in the near-dark, one that said he knew what she was after with her small talk. “I used to steal my father’s Polaroid camera and annoy everyone with it.”
She grinned at the vision of a mini-Chase documenting the world around him. “Did you always concentrate on photographing people?”
“I’ve tried it all, but in the end I’ve always found people—and their emotions—to be more interesting than anything else.”
Al
l day she’d been trying to put her finger on Chase’s magic. “That’s what you were after today,” Chloe said with a sudden hit of awareness. “Emotion.” She met his gaze and knew that even though she wasn’t one of his models, it was exactly what he was tapping into with her, too.
“You were a great help today.”
She flushed at his praise. “I’m glad I could help in some way.” She gestured to the property.
“Getting to be here today was wonderful. Like being inside a fantasy world.”
They stepped up on to the porch and Chase opened the door for her. Always the gentleman.
She stopped short in the living room, causing him to bump into her. His heat seared her and she jumped away.
“What’s all this?”
A clothing rack, just like the ones the models’ outfits had been hanging on at the shoot, was standing in the middle of the room. It was packed full of clothes that looked like they would fit her, rather than size zero, six foot, nineteen-year-old girls.
“I had a few things delivered for you.”
“How did you even do this? You were working the whole time, harder than anyone else.”
She couldn’t remember ever seeing him take a break, beyond having lunch with her. Even when the rest of the crew was relaxing between shots, he was busy setting things up or reviewing the day’s work.
“You look great in your jeans,” he told her, “really great, but I know you weren’t crazy about heading over to Marcus’s tonight wearing them. If there’s one thing I can do, it’s get nice clothes delivered fast.”
He was so sweet. And modest. But…
“I don’t have the money to pay you back for these clothes, Chase. It was a lovely thought, but I can’t wear them tonight.”
“Let me do this for you,” he said softly.
“I can’t.”
But, oh, how she wanted to. Even in her previous life when she’d had money, she’d never worn clothes this gorgeous.
“You can.” He didn’t move closer, but the warmth of his words moved over her skin like a caress as he said, “I’m not going to come back later and demand anything from you.”
Instinctively, she knew he was telling her the truth. He would never hold anything over her. So then why did that almost scare her more?
Chase was great. Beyond great. She should stop acting like a nervous cat already, claws popping out at the slightest noise.
Feeling like an ungrateful jerk over the clothes, she asked, “Can we start over and pretend we just walked in?”
“Sure.” He walked to the door and held it open for her.
Following his lead, she walked outside on the porch and let him open the door for her again.
“Wow, Chase. These are such pretty clothes. Thanks so much.”
“You’re welcome.”
Chloe had to force herself to step away from him, rather than move closer. Yet again, she wanted to put her arms around him and kiss him. She’d never been like this before, vacillating from one extreme to the other…from wanting to run away one second, then wanting to run straight into his arms the next.
Chase walked over to the rack of clothes. “This one.”
He was holding up an amazing dress with a long flowing skirt and a fitted bodice. It was midnight blue—her favorite color—and she already knew it would fit like a glove.
“I guess I’ll go shower and get dressed,” she said softly, taking it from him as she walked past.
She felt his eyes on her back all the way down the hall until she closed the bedroom door behind her.
The shower felt like heaven, but she knew Chase was waiting for her so she didn’t linger. The tub had beckoned, of course, but she wasn’t sure she could face Chase again if she accidentally set off the jets and he heard them go on.
She dried off, then opened the toiletry and makeup bag he’d had set out for her as well. She was most grateful for the makeup, because it meant she could cover up her bruise a little better. True, everyone had already seen it, but that didn’t mean she liked looking at it every time she looked in the mirror.
Chase had thought of everything. How on earth was a girl supposed to not fall for a guy like this?
Forget his looks. He was awesome on the inside, too.
Then again, hadn’t she thought her ex was awesome at first?
Forcing down the icky thought, she finished blowing her hair dry, then slipped into the beautiful dress and picked a pair of incredibly pretty heels out of the half-dozen pairs of shoes that had been placed in her bedroom while she showered.
A shiver ran through her at the knowledge that Chase had been just beyond the bathroom door while she was naked. Had he been tempted to break in again?
And what would she have done this time? Would she have acted like she didn’t want him in there?
Or would she have opened up the shower door and invited him in?
She tried as hard as she could to put herself back in her mindset from earlier in the day, when she’d first seen the models and had been able to convince herself that there was no way Chase would be interested in her with them around.
But after a full day with them, she knew without even the slightest doubt that there was nothing going on between Chase and any of those young women. Nor would there ever be. They looked at him with stars in their eyes. He looked at them like they were his younger sisters.
Chloe knew he didn’t look at her like that, however.
He looked at her like a man looked at a woman he desired.
No, she found herself thinking before she could stop herself from going there, there was more behind his gaze than just desire.
Her heart fluttering wildly, she stepped out of the bedroom. Chase was silent for a long moment, which only made her heart beat faster.
Finally, he said, “You’re lovely.”
Lovely.
Did he know the effect that one word had on her? Did he know how special he made her feel, again and again?
Desperate to cut the sensual—and emotional—tension between them, she tried to joke,
“Whoever picked out this dress has a great eye.”
“It’s not the dress. It’s you.”
She worked not to deflect his compliment again. Once upon a time she’d known how to say thank you. “You look nice, too,” she said, taking in his dark jeans and the white button-down shirt that he’d rolled up a couple of times at the sleeves.
“I thought we’d walk over to Marcus’s house.” He looked down at her shoes. “Will that work?”
“Are you kidding? I used to practically live in heels.”
He gave her a questioning look and she silently cursed herself. Fortunately, though, he didn’t push her on her statement or as her any questions about her past.
But she knew that if she stayed much longer, he would ask.
* * *
Chloe was surprisingly comfortable at the small party at Marcus’s house. He was the consummate host, making sure everyone’s glasses were full and that the underaged models stuck to juice and sparkling water.
After she’d had her fill of the incredible spread and Jeremy had officially exhausted her gossip quota for one lifetime, Chase reappeared from the shadows.
“Are you having fun?”
“I am.”
It should have been a relief when he’d moved away from her not long after arriving at the party, especially after their silent walk from the guest house. A walk in which it had been clear that he wasn’t asking her any questions she wasn’t yet comfortable with answering.
But she’d missed being with him. Her gaze had strayed to him from across the room one too many times. And he’d almost always caught her looking.
“Can I get you anything else to eat or drink?”
She shook her head, putting her hand over her stomach. “I’m stuffed, thanks.” Feeling a little loose from the wine, she said, “There is something I’d love, though. I’ve been dying to see a family photo.”
“I can already
tell you I’m the best-looking Sullivan.”
She laughed out loud. Chase was one of the least egotistical men she’d ever met. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”
He held out a hand and she took it without remembering that it wasn’t a good idea to touch him.
But oh, it felt so nice to hold his hand—big and strong and warm—if only for a few short moments.
It occurred to her that she might be just a teensy bit drunk as they walked into a room that she assumed was Marcus’s study. Chase picked up a framed eight-by-ten photo from the bookshelf and handed it to her.
Chloe worked to keep the awe from her expression at what an incredible sight they all made together. Still, she couldn’t take her eyes off Chase-even in a picture he commanded her attention.
He was standing next to his mother, nearly a foot taller, with his arm around her as she leaned her head on his shoulder. She looked happy and content, surrounded by her children.
Longing to be part of a family this close hit Chloe so hard, she almost dropped the glossy photo.
And then, she saw something that had her mouth falling open.
“Oh my God. You’re Smith Sullivan’s brother?”
* * *
Jealousy wasn’t something that Chase knew a lot about. So the sudden hard hit of it, right in the pit of his gut, stung pretty damn bad.
“I am.” He waited for her to ask if she could meet Smith, or to start peppering him with questions about his movie-star brother.
Instead, she simply turned and stared at him for a long moment. “I guess I should have seen the resemblance.” And then she said, “Tell me about everyone else.”
Seriously? She didn’t want to know more about Smith?
This time he was the one giving her a funny look and she shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, her free hand automatically coming up to cover her cheek. “Is something wrong?”
He quickly shook his head. “No. Not a thing.”
He wanted to move her hand from her cheek, wanted to tell her she didn’t need to hide any part of herself from him. But he’d made himself a promise to let her lead their dance.
He wasn’t a saint. Not even close. But he knew keeping that promise was the only way she’d ever really trust him.