“We can’t move forward until we fix what’s wrong, so let’s go to your suite and have an open and honest discussion about our relationship,” Juliet said, inching closer to him.
Refusing to consider her suggestion, he tapped his foot impatiently. The air held a tantalizing scent and the aroma wafting out of the world-famous Japanese restaurant made his stomach groan. He’d had appetizers on the yacht with Demi after their steamy make-out session, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy his hunger. He’d track her down, apologize for Juliet’s behavior and then persuade her to have dinner with him in one of the hotel’s restaurants. “We’re over, Juliet. The sooner you come to terms with it, the better off you’ll be.”
“Baby, you don’t mean that...”
Like hell I don’t, he thought, narrowing his gaze. We’re through. Why can’t you see that?
“If I’m being totally honest, you haven’t been the same since your horseback riding accident,” Juliet said in a quiet voice. “I don’t know if it’s the medication you’re on or insomnia that’s to blame for your negative temperament, but you’re impossible to deal with lately. Everyone says so. Your mom, your brothers, your employees...”
Resentment darkened his heart but Chase didn’t speak, decided it wasn’t worth it.
“You can’t blame me for what happened at the stables. It was an accident!”
Yeah, an accident that wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t thrown a tantrum!
“Chase, you need professional help.” Juliet wore a sympathetic expression on her face. “You’ve been under incredible stress the last few months and it’s not only affected your mood, it’s altered your personality and your ability to think clearly.”
Her self-righteous tone set his teeth on edge. Chase didn’t want to hear her psychobabble tonight and if Juliet used the words “emotionally unavailable” again he was going to lose it. Who did Juliet think she was? Sigmund Freud? He’d never met a more arrogant woman in all his life, and if their mothers weren’t best friends, he’d cut her out of his life for good.
“This is a textbook case of self-sabotage,” she continued, her tone matter-of-fact. “You’re scared that one day I’ll give up and leave you, but I won’t. I don’t care about your diagnosis...”
Her words turned to garble in his ears, sounding like gibberish. He’d had enough. Was tired of talking to her. Didn’t want to hear anymore of her Dr. Phil therapy crap. This wasn’t the first time they’d discussed the demise of their relationship, but it was going to be the last. Desperate to escape her, Chase pocketed his iPhone and ducked into the men’s washroom. Juliet followed. An Asian man in a pinstriped suite was smoking a joint, but left when he saw them.
“Tonight signifies a new beginning for us,” she said, resting a hand on his chest. “I flew here to spend the weekend with you. It’s your birthday and we should celebrate, Ibiza style!”
Chase frowned, couldn’t make sense of her outrageous behavior. The more Juliet giggled, the more annoyed he became. Not trusting himself to speak for fear that he’d lose his temper, he considered his options.
He could call the front desk and request security, but he didn’t want the hotel staff to laugh at him and struck the idea from his mind.
“I know what you want.” Releasing a deep sigh as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders, Juliet dropped her gaze to his crotch and shrugged. “As you know, oral sex isn’t my thing, but I’m willing to do it this one time to prove I love you. Happy now?”
Chase scoffed. Juliet thought she could use sex to manipulate him, but it wasn’t going to work. Her behavior reeked of desperation and he was turned off by her proposition. She’d always acted as if having sex with him was a chore. Tonight Chase craved spontaneity and excitement, and knew just where to find it. “No thanks. I’m good. Don’t do me any favors.”
“I’m willing to marry you, in spite of your condition. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
“We’re over, Juliet, and there’s nothing you can say or do to change my mind.”
Juliet grabbed his forearm. “You think you don’t deserve my love but, baby, you do—”
“No,” he said in a stern voice. “I deserve better.”
Shock registered on her face and her hand fell to her side. “Please don’t do this... We belong together... I know we can work this out...”
Deaf to her pleas, Chase strode out of the washroom, leaving his past behind.
Chapter 7
“Sir, you look troubled. May I be of some assistance?” asked a male voice with an Irish accent.
Chase cringed. He wished he could disappear into the beige carpet inside the corridor. The gentleman in the black-and-white butler’s uniform planted himself in front of suite 1208 and gave a curt nod. For ten minutes Chase had been standing outside Demi’s suite, pounding on the door, but with no luck. He could hear rap music playing, occasional fits of laughter, and wondered if she had company. Had she met someone else? A professional athlete or a billionaire businessman perhaps?
An Indian couple, decked out in jewels and traditional clothing, stopped at the suite across the hall. The woman giggled and waved, but he didn’t make eye contact with her. Didn’t want to encourage her or to make conversation. He was there to apologize to Demi, not to make friends.
Entering the dimly-lit suite, the woman glanced over her shoulder and winked. Chase stared at his watch. The last thing he needed was for the woman’s burly, bearded companion to think he was flirting with her and pick a fight with him. He’d had enough drama for one night and the only woman Chase wanted to flirt with was Demi.
The butler cleared his throat, drawing Chase out of his thoughts, and he gestured to the door with a thumb. “My wife and I had a fight, and she kicked me out.” Chase stuck his hands into his pockets so the butler wouldn’t see his ring-less left hand. “It wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t need to use the bathroom. Could you use your master key to let me in?”
A frown wrinkled his brow. “Do you have ID? I need to verify your identity before I let you into the suite. Surely you understand.”
“Yes, of course. No problem.” For effect, Chase patted his shirt and pockets then hung his head. “Damn. I left it in the bedroom with my cell.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but without ID, there’s nothing I can do.”
The butler wore an apologetic smile but Chase suspected the Irishman didn’t believe him and poured on the charm. “I understand. It’s obvious you’re a professional who takes great pride in his job, and I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble for breaking the rules.”
Discreetly, Chase reached into his back pocket and removed his wallet. He opened it and took out some cash. Stepping forward, he pressed the bills into the butler’s hand and spoke in a quiet voice. “Are you sure you can’t help me?”
Glancing around the corridor, the butler palmed the money then tucked it into his sleeve. “I’m sure, but thanks for the generous tip. Good evening, sir, and best of luck making amends with your wife.”
The butler left and Chase pounded on the door for several seconds with no success. Deciding to check his work email to pass the time, he took out his iPhone and accessed the internet.
The door swung open and Demi stopped abruptly, her eyes dark with anger and her lips pursed in disgust.
Chase sighed in relief. Finally! Something’s going my way! Chase moved toward her, realized it was a bad idea, and stepped back. What if she screamed? What if security came running? Or worse, she kicked his ass? He remembered the conversation they’d had that afternoon at lunch. While they were relaxing on the patio, eating tapas and downing cocktails, she’d told him about the night she’d wrestled her purse away from a would-be robber in North Philadelphia. Making light of the incident, she’d laughed about walloping the thief with her Givenchy tote bag, but Chase didn’t want to be Demi’s next victim.
Chase adm
ired her appearance. Man, she’s beautiful. He was so blown away by her look, desire flooded his veins. Her off-the-shoulder dress kissed every delicious slope on her body. Lush curls cascaded down her back, and her skin glistened under the dim lights. She smelled of lavender and his mouth watered as her perfume filled his nostrils. Everything from her teardrop earrings to the butterfly tattoo on her inner wrist and diamond ankle bracelet made a bold statement, and Chase wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone.
A cold breeze flooded the corridor, chilling his body to the bone. Her hand balled into a fist at her side and Chase knew he was in trouble. Her big, brown eyes smoldered with hate and Chase feared she’d give him a Philly beat-down outside of her suite.
“What do you want? You’re a liar and I don’t want to see you.”
Chase coughed into his fist. “Demi, I’m sorry.”
“You’re right. You are. You lied to me about having a girlfriend, then had the nerve to follow me to my suite.” An incredulous look covered her face. “You’re insane.”
Not insane. Crazy about you. There’s a big difference. They’d connected in a profound way and Chase was determined to get back in her good graces, even if it meant begging for her forgiveness.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded. “Shouldn’t you be in your suite having wild, make-up sex with your on-again, off-again girlfriend?”
“No. I should be here with you.” Projecting confidence, he took a step forward. If she slapped him again, so be it, but he needed to be close to her. “And just so we’re clear, Juliet is not my girlfriend. We broke up months ago and I’ve moved on with my life.”
“You know what? I don’t care. It’s none of my business, so get out of here and don’t come back.”
Anticipating her next move, Chase stuck his foot in the way so she couldn’t slam the door in his face.
“Leave or I’ll call hotel security.”
Her cell phone lit up in the palm of her hand and she stared down at the screen. Sighing deeply, as if she had more problems than The Donald, she hung her head. Chase sensed her unease, her frustration, and wanted to do something to cheer her up. “Have dinner with me tonight at Nobu.”
“Will your significant other be joining us?” Demi looked at him with wide-eyed innocence but her voice had a bitter edge. “I better not. It’s obvious your college sweetheart is obsessed with you, and I don’t want to be labeled a home wrecker.”
“Demi, I don’t want her. I want you.”
“That’s too bad. You guys are sex buddies, and I don’t believe in sharing men.”
“No, we’re not. I swear. Juliet lied to make me look bad, and it worked,” he argued, desperate to get through to her. “I haven’t had sex in months, but I wouldn’t touch Juliet if she was lying naked on my bed, slathered in my favorite barbecue sauce.”
Demi pressed her lips together but Chase could tell by the amused expression on her face that she was trying not to laugh. He’d never planned to confide in Demi about the problems in his past relationship, and tried to figure out a way to change the topic without looking guilty.
“I find that hard to believe. She’s a cute girl and you dated for many years.”
“Can I come inside? Please?” he asked. “Let me come in and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”
Demi raised a hand in the air. “You have five minutes. But if I think you’re feeding me a story, you’re out, got it?”
Entering the suite, he closed the door behind him and surveyed the spacious room. It had unique artwork and light fixtures, more plants than a botanical garden, and perfectly appointed furniture. The space was sophisticated, filled with the best décor money could buy, and the tasteful, acrylic paintings hanging on the walls complemented the luxurious surroundings. The curtains were open, revealing spectacular views of the island that reminded Chase of his romantic boat ride with Demi. Images of their steamy make-out session bombarded his mind and all he could think about was kissing her again.
“Tell me more about your past relationship.”
His throat was drier than cotton. He didn’t want to discuss his ex, or their tumultuous relationship, but he didn’t want Demi to think he was a dog, so he told her the truth. “We weren’t on the same page, or sexually incompatible and, over time, we grew apart.”
“But Juliet said she went down on you last night in the private elevator.”
Chase barked a laugh. “Yeah, right, and Beyoncé’s pregnant with my love child! Like I said, she lied.”
Demi smirked. “Go on. I’m listening.”
“Juliet and I aren’t lovers. Our mothers are best friends, so we see each other from time to time, but that’s the extent of it. We’re over, and I don’t want her back.”
“Likely story.” Demi wrinkled her nose, as if a skunk had sprayed the room, and tapped an index finger against her iPhone case. “Why should I believe you?”
“Because I’m crazy about you.”
“After one date?”
“After one date,” he repeated, meeting her gaze.
It was true; he was weak for her. Damn, if my brothers could see me now, they’d beat me with the throw cushions, then throw me off the balcony, he thought. Hell, Jonas would lead the charge!
Determined to have her, Chase pulled Demi to his chest and held her close. “You look sensational,” he said, fingering the ends of her hair. “Where are you going? I thought we were hanging out tonight.”
“I thought so, too, but your ex ruined my plans, so I made new ones.” Demi waltzed into the kitchen, opened the fridge and grabbed two wine coolers. “Genevieve is performing tonight at Pacha Ibiza and I want to be front and center during her sold-out show.”
Chase whistled. “Wow, you weren’t kidding about being her number-one fan. But from the way you were rapping with Easy E earlier, I figured you were west coast until you die.”
“Don’t let the dress fool you. I can spit rhymes with the best of them!” Laughing, she handed him a cooler, clinked his bottle with her own, and took a sip. “Cheers!”
“Clubs don’t start jumping until midnight, so let’s eat before we go.”
“We?” she said, in a high-pitched voice. “Funny, but I don’t remember inviting you.”
“It must have slipped your mind. Don’t worry. I forgive you.”
“We can hang out for a while, but one wrong move and I’m showing you the door. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am. I wouldn’t dream of giving you any trouble.” For effect, he rubbed his shoulder and winced in pain. “I’ve seen your right hook, and it’s lethal.”
Her smile faded. “Chase, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have punched you. I thought you’d lied to me and I let my anger get the best of me.”
“No worries. You can make it up to me later.” Winking, he picked up the black menu book, opened it and perused the selections. “What do you want from room service?”
“I’d love a bowl of gazpacho and an extra-large order of croquettes. Thanks!”
“Coming right up.” Chase picked up the phone, pressed 1, and placed his order with the room service attendant. His gaze tracked Demi through the suite, watching her every move. She kicked off her studded heels and Chase hoped she was settling in for the night. He’d rather hang out in her suite than go to Pacha Ibiza and compete with other men for her attention.
Demi scooped the remote control off the coffee table and pointed it at the flat-screen TV. Finding an Angela Basset movie on one of the local channels, Demi cheered, sank onto the padded couch and crossed her feet at the ankles.
Chase dropped the phone in the cradle. “Room service will be here in an hour.”
“I hope I can make it until then. I’m starving.” Demi picked up her wine cooler and took a drink. “I was so busy getting dressed, I didn’t eat dinner, and now I’m so hungry my stomach sounds like a wolf howl
ing at the moon!”
Chuckling, he picked up her legs, sat at the other end of the sofa, and propped her small, dainty feet on his lap. “What are you watching?”
“Only the best movie ever made.”
Chase stared at the screen, watched for several seconds and groaned. “I hate this part. I understand why Bernie was mad at her husband, but why did she have to set his BMW on fire?”
“To teach his sorry, ungrateful ass a lesson,” she said, nodding to underscore her point. “You don’t mistreat the person who held you down when you had nothing. Bernie’s better than me. I would have set his office on fire, too!”
Watching the movie, they discussed the plot, the characters and their favorite songs on the award-winning soundtrack. Room service arrived, but they were so engrossed in the film they decided to eat in front of the TV. Chase couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun on a date, and listened to Demi with rapt attention. They were polar opposites, but it didn’t matter. He enjoyed her candor, her authenticity, and her jokes made him crack up.
Her iPhone lit up on the coffee table and she glanced down at the screen. “I can’t believe it’s already eleven o’clock,” she said, wiping her hands with her napkin. “I have to get going.”
Chase used one hand to caress her cheek and the other one to stroke her legs. Demi had a spark, that indescribable quality that made her unique, and he wanted her all to himself.
Bending down, Demi grabbed her stilettos and put them on. “Let’s go. Geneviève’s about to hit the stage and I don’t want to miss her performance. It’s going to be epic.”
Southern Seduction ; Pleasure in His Arms Page 23