by Rita Herron
* * *
Chase wrestled his hands out of fists into a more relaxed position as he approached the house, still agitated from his meeting with Reid. The business might be in trouble. And Oglethorpe wanted Maddie back. Hell, he was romancing her like some Romeo out of the dark ages.
Whereas he was running like a deer caught in a pair of headlights.
What else could go wrong?
He held his breath as he opened the front door of his new house, praying Maddie hadn't done something outlandish with the decorations, something to cause them another setback. For some odd reason he really wanted her to prove her brothers wrong and stick with the job. He felt disloyal for being annoyed with Lance and Reid, but they should show a little faith in their baby sister.
The polished brass doorknob felt slick to his hands. His stomach quivered as he realized that this house, this antebellum beauty was actually his. Back at Bethesda when he was little, he used to lie awake and dream of having a real house someday, of having a winding staircase, a fireplace, a place to call home.
He spotted Maddie standing in the foyer, the crystal chandelier dappling soft light around her russet hair. She looked incredibly beautiful, her voluptuous body molded into a short black dress that accentuated her long legs and curvy backside; a simple dress, but it radiated femininity and flattered her every feature.
God, he could get used to her greeting him every night.
Especially if she was naked.
"Chase?" She smiled, filling the room with warmth. "You want the fifty-cent tour?"
He nodded and let her lead him through the rooms. She remained silent most of the way, occasionally pointing out the reason for her choices. He thought he detected a slight quiver in her voice and twice, noticed her gnawing on her lower lip.
He'd seen the flooring, the carpet, had approved of the neutral palette she'd chosen earlier, the soft grays and blues and touches of maroon, so why should she be so nervous? Unless she'd added something wild to surprise him.
"I tried to keep it basic like you asked," she said softly when he ran his hand over the buttery soft leather of the L-shaped sofa. The den consisted of mellow heart pine and oak and quarry tile adorned the modern kitchen with a skylight, center island and breakfast bar, which opened up to a sunny screened-in porch. A bluestone floor, fieldstone fireplace and wet bar created a cozy family room, natural light spilling inside via the surrounding palladium windows.
The furnishings and accessories Maddie had chosen—the comfortable leather sofa, the wooden rocker, the collection of antique cars situated on the bookshelves, even the formal dining room set, which wasn't formal at all, but consisted of a clawfoot oak table with shaker chairs—everything seemed perfect, yet not exactly perfect. She'd coordinated everything so the areas appeared to flow from one to the other, but none of the rooms seemed stuffy or looked as if a decorator had furnished them. The house felt comfortable, homey.
The first home Chase had ever known.
And those antique cars—the collection seemed so personal, private, as if Maddie sensed some of the inner feelings he shared with no one.
A lump grew rapidly in his throat, and he blinked, unnerved at the sudden welling of emotion. What the hell was happening to him? He'd never grown sappy over a house before, and he'd designed hundreds, at least in his mind.
"I have a surprise," Maddie said, dragging him toward the master suite.
Uh-oh.
Seconds later, he stared in awe at the impressive four-poster oak bed, which dominated the room. Immediately memories of Maddie sprawled on top of this very same bed the day they'd been shopping taunted him with elicit thoughts. A navy comforter artfully covered with dark red and navy throw pillows created an inviting den for nighttime, and a wardrobe to house his clothes stood adjacent to the full-length window. His gaze strayed to the corner where Maddie stood smiling.
"Ta da." She waved her arms and removed a sheet, which had been draped over an odd-shaped colorful structure. Unveiled, the unusual structure resembled a big bird. A hawk. "It's muffler art," Maddie explained. "This hawk is a one-of-a-kind piece. Since your hobby is working on cars, I thought you'd appreciate the craftsmanship."
Chase grinned, stunned at the interesting piece. He moved closer to study it in detail. "The artist used the muffler from a fifty-five Corvair to make the wings."
"Right." Maddie laughed. "I hope you like it."
"It's great," Chase said. "I've never seen anything like it."
"I saw a special report on unusual kinds of art on the Today show and when they interviewed the artist who specializes in muffler art, I instantly thought of you."
The lump grew back in his throat. No one had ever thought of him so personally before, had ever given him such a gift.
"I put all the receipts in the office so you can look over them," Maddie said, interrupting his thoughts. "If there's anything you don't approve of, we can return the items and replace them with something else you prefer."
"No, the house looks great." What was he thinking? She hadn't given him a gift—the art had been a decorator's choice—a business decision, nothing personal.
Feeling shaken by his own stupidity, he turned to retreat to the den.
"Chase, I hope you're pleased."
He paused, surprised by the hesitancy in her expression. Then he remembered her brothers' teasing, the way they'd doubted her abilities. "The house is great, Maddie. You've done a super job with everything."
Her brilliant smile made him forget his own silliness. "Really? 'Cause if there's anything, I mean anything you don't like, we'll take it back, Chase. And after the tour, if you want to change something, just let me know."
He pressed his finger to her lips to quiet her. "I love everything."
Her big eyes flickered with uncertainty. "Honest?"
He honestly wanted to kiss her. "I swear."
She wet her lips with her tongue, eliciting silent fantasies for Chase, then broke into a big smile. "Good. Then come on, I can't wait for you to see the study." She sashayed past him, and he followed along like a dog in heat, unable to resist watching her lithe body twist and turn in its own unique feminine way. Bare legs. A tight, firm butt. Slender arms. That narrow waist.
His body thrummed with arousal.
She stopped in the doorway of the den, and he was so distracted he ran into her.
"Oh, sorry." He grabbed her by the waist so he wouldn't knock her facedown.
Oblivious to his turmoil, she laughed, placed her hands over his, and turned in his arms. For a brief moment their gazes caught. Heat rippled through the air, hunger surged from deep within him. Then she swallowed, her breath hitching out, and spoke in that soft, sexy drawl that tied him in knots, "I have a surprise in here, too. I think every man's study should be his private room, his place to unwind. His special place to hibernate."
Her voice was quivering again. He wasn't sure if it was because of nerves or because of the heat racing between them. And the words she'd said, she'd described his feelings about a man's study. So what had she done in here?
He summoned amazing strength and pulled away, then walked past her into the room. Library paneling, wide windows with custom wood shutters, and a stone fireplace offset a massive oak workstation with a drafting board, extra lighting and storage compartments for supplies. A free-standing globe and wall map occupied one corner but his gaze was drawn to the opposite wall, the sitting area where a cozy leather wing chair in navy resided by a tan love-seat and recliner. The only pictures in the room hung above this comfortable furniture—an arrangement of photos framed in black leather—photos of Chase and Reid and Lance growing up.
His throat completely closed this time.
"I found most of the photos in the attic. If you don't want them all on the wall, that's fine, or if you have others or would prefer—"
"They're perfect." His gaze swept the candid shots, all the memories of growing up bombarding him. Years of being The Terrible Three, of being a part of
a gang, a home, the Summers family. He and the boys camping. Hiking in the mountains. The afternoon they'd gone rafting down the Chattahoochee. The clubhouse they'd built together. Maddie lingering in the background, hiding behind the wooden planks, trying to sneak in.
"Chase?"
Maddie was standing so close to him he inhaled her sweet perfume, the erotic scent of her skin. But now she was all grown up, and he wanted her so badly he could hardly breathe. He couldn't be disloyal to her brothers though, could he?
He stared at the photos again. He'd made a deal—he'd watch out for Maddie. He squared his shoulders and inhaled, praying he could keep his promise. But every moment he spent with Maddie seemed to test his endurance—to test whether he really was a bad boy at heart. The wuss offered her romance and money and prestige—what did he have to offer?
The hottest, sexiest night she'd ever had. Shit, he could not think like that.
"I brought Chinese and wine." Maddie said, handing him the corkscrew. "You want to celebrate?"
Good. Food, a perfect distraction. "Sure." He followed her back to the breakfast bar, opened the wine and helped her empty the Chinese onto paper plates.
"Oh, one more surprise."
"I'm not sure I can take any more tonight," Chase said.
Maddie laughed. "Well, it's not really a surprise since you've already seen this piece. But I wasn't sure it would be delivered today." She hurried into the laundry area, dragged out a rolled-up bundle and tore at the plastic covering. Chase helped her, laughing when she unveiled the contents.
"The bearskin rug. Isn't it gorgeous?"
"Yeah." And so are you.
"Let's put the rug in front of the fireplace in the family room for now. You can move it into the bedroom later." Together they stretched out the thick white fur, then brought their plates over and sank down on the decadent rug to eat in the family room.
"I really hope you like the way things turned out, Chase."
He made a grand effort to eat instead of looking at her. "I do. The place looks even better than I expected. It's homey, too, not stuffy like most of those decorator homes."
"That's what I'm aiming for in my business—a house that's a home, a place that reflects the individual person, not a room that looks sterile like a magazine photo."
"With that philosophy, you should have a booming business."
Maddie grinned and raised her glass for a toast. "I managed to stay in budget, too."
"The best part." He clinked his glass with hers, thinking what a remarkable woman she'd turned out to be. Her brothers should be proud, not trying to hold her back.
Maddie nibbled a water chestnut off her chopsticks, and he bit into his spring roll to distract himself, mesmerized by her luscious lips. With a flick of her tongue, she licked a drop of sweet-and-sour sauce from the corner of her mouth, then sipped her wine, making a small moaning sound of pleasure at the sweet taste.
Chase sipped his own, wondering if Maddie had any idea how much she was torturing him. Or if she simply looked at him as a big brother. Maybe she'd finally gotten the message. He'd certainly pounded it into her head enough.
The realization should have pleased him. Instead, it made his stomach twist into a knot. With Oglethorpe trying to woo her, was she interested in reconciling with the wuss?
Chapter 18
As the sun faded and dusk fell, hazy shadows from the live oaks outside cast faint shadows around the family room, creating a sultry atmosphere that hinted at long, lazy romantic nights. Maddie wondered if Chase realized the effect. The mood was certainly wreaking havoc with all her good intentions. She wanted to rip off Chase's clothes, throw him down on the rug and extinguish the fire that had burned between them ever since he had arrived. She wanted to make love with him until he could no longer possibly think of her as a kid sister or a kid anything.
Surely the tension between them wasn't a trick of her imagination or one-sided.
Forget the romantic cards and flowers and chocolates—she'd rather have Chase.
Chase had been looking at her with hunger in his eyes all night. Hunger and lust filled with a strong dose of wariness, as if he knew he'd be jumping into the abyss of an inferno unprotected if he even touched her. She'd heard that sometimes fire could be so enticing, so captivating and alluring and downright enchanting that the heat sucked you into its vortex before you had a chance to escape.
Maddie had never felt or even believed in that kind of heat before tonight. But the minute Chase walked through the door, she'd felt it spark. And when he'd praised her work and stretched out beside her on the rug, the flame had grown even stronger.
The chemistry had never been this strong with Jeff.
"Thanks for all the hard work you did." Chase's denim shirt stretched taut across broad shoulders as he poured them both another glass of wine.
"You're welcome. I hope you like the way I put the other houses together just as much. Although I have to admit your house was the most fun. It's always easier when you really know someone, then you can choose more personal things."
"Like that muffler art?" The slight bristle of a five o'clock shadow darkened his jaw, making her fingers itch to reach out and touch it, to see if his face was both as rough and smooth as she'd imagined.
"Right."
Propping himself on one arm, he leaned sideways on the floor and traced one finger along the stem of the wineglass. It was almost as if he was avoiding looking at her. Maddie wondered what it would feel like to have that finger running along the column of her neck. Her bare breasts. Her back.
"I can't wait till it gets cold and I can light a fire in here," Chase said, gazing at the stone hearth.
As if he hadn't already lit one. "It will be nice," Maddie murmured. "You are really talented, Chase. This place may not be as large as some of the others, but it's extraordinary."
He rubbed a hand along his forehead, wiping away the perspiration. "Of course it's hard to believe it'll ever be cold in here; it's so hot right now."
"That's true." Maddie's face flushed when she realized she'd spoken out loud.
His crooked smile appeared, the scar on his forehead glinting in the light floating in from the window. Maddie couldn't resist. She reached out and touched the jagged puckered flesh. "I remember the day you got that scar."
"So do I." Chase glanced into his wine, his breath hissing out. "I never could back away from a good fight."
Maddie laughed. "Turn one down? I thought you started it."
His big shoulders lifted into a shrug. "Everyone thought I always started all the fights." His gaze slowly rose to collide with hers. In his dark eyes, she saw the bad memories, the pain he must have felt as an orphan. "It doesn't matter anyway."
"No, it doesn't," Maddie said softly. "Just look at you now—you're a great architect. You should be proud of yourself."
An emotion she couldn't quite read flickered in his eyes. His hand reached out to toy with a tendril of her hair curling around her cheek. "I think that's the first time anyone ever told me I was good at anything."
Maddie's heart raced. "It's true, Chase. I really admire the way you put yourself through school, the way you worked to make it—"
"Maddie, don't—"
"Don't what?"
A crooked smile crept onto his weathered face. "I'm not used to talking like this."
"What? You're not accustomed to compliments?" Maddie waved her hand around the room. "Well, you'd better get used to it, Chase. When the tour opens and everyone sees what a great architect you are, you'll be so booked up, you won't have time for anything but work."
"I hope I always have time for something besides work," he murmured in a husky voice.
Maddie's gaze locked with his, the tension and passion exploding. On some level, she knew there was a good reason she shouldn't be here like this with Chase, a reason she'd promised herself she wouldn't throw herself at him, but for the life of her, she couldn't remember it. All she could think about was wiping that sadness o
ut of Chase's eyes, of seeing that haunting anguish vanish and his desire sated.
She placed her glass on the floor, then gently reached out and lay her hand along his cheek. The texture of his beard was coarse, rough, his jaw tight as he clenched his teeth. His dark eyes turned a darker hue as if he wanted to say something, to deny the lust between them.
As if giving in would hurt him. But not relenting to his hunger would be even harder.
"Maddie, we—"
"I know, we shouldn't." She lowered her head, flicking her tongue along the edge of his mouth, inhaling his husky male scent like an aphrodisiac, then nibbled at the tender skin along his earlobe. "But I don't care. I want you, Chase, like I've never wanted a man in my life."
His quick intake of air sounded full of pain and desire and finally, of surrender. With a harsh, low growl, he tunneled his fingers through her hair, covered her mouth with his and jerked her to him.
"God, Maddie." A battered sound of defeat rasped from deep within his throat as he hugged her to him, pressing her breasts against his chest in a fierce hold that made her cry out his name.
"Chase, please, I want you, now. Let us be together."
He drew back, looked into her eyes, whispered her name on a heady sigh, then cupped her face with both his big hands. "Maddie—"
"Shh, don't talk." Gently she pressed her lips to his to silence him. He tasted of spicy food and wine and dark desire. "Just hold me, Chase. Feel the way I want you."
She pulled his hand to her chest, lay it gently across her breasts so her racing heart pounded against his fingers. The turmoil in his face flickered into excitement, surprise and finally acceptance. "Lie down with me, Maddie."
She swallowed, lost at his command. He covered her body with his, as he swept his hands over her face, across her nose, her lips, through her hair, over her shoulders. Each hungry touch felt desperate, as if he wanted to memorize each part of her, as if he wanted to touch every sensitive bit of flesh and couldn't complete the task fast enough.