by J. C. Reed
How dare he steal the contract and take Clint to court?
No surprise that Clint was angry. He had probably assumed I tricked him.
I knocked harder. “Open the fucking door, Chase,” I shouted. “I know you’re in there.” It wasn’t my imagination. The sound of the TV carried over from inside. At last, footsteps thudded.
The door opened slowly and a woman’s pale face peered out.
My breath hitched and my heart stopped.
You know when I said I’d kiss the mistress?
Scratch that part.
She was beautiful. Like a real life doll, with flawless skin and big, blue eyes.
A towel was wrapped around her delicate body, and her long blond hair cascaded down her shoulders. “Yes?” Her accent was unmistakably foreign. Maybe Russian.
But her beauty wasn’t what bothered me. She could have been butt ugly for all I cared.
What bothered me was the fact that she was in Chase’s room, and judging from the dark smudges around her eyes—her only ‘fault’—and the empty bottles of alcohol arranged on the bar, her night had been a fun one, too. The thought of her in Chase’s bed, of him fucking her right after he had fucked me, made me fuming mad.
Had I not been enough for him?
How the fuck did he hook up with her so quickly after leaving my room, unless he had met her before and she had been waiting for him?
Something hard pierced my heart. Without thinking, I stormed past her into the room.
“Where is he?” I asked, taking notice of the unmade bed, the lacy underwear on the floor, and what looked like room service. In the background, I could hear the shower running.
Fucking hell.
First, he screwed me, then he went out to get dessert.
I should never have trusted him.
“Is he in there?” I asked.
She frowned, her eyes fixed on my lips as if she didn’t quite understand me, her perfect plump lips pouting. “Who?”
“Chase.”
“Chasse?” she asked.
With my heart slamming against my chest, I headed for the door and grabbed the knob. As I was about to open it, a familiar voice echoed behind me.
“What are you doing?”
I stopped, my entire body going rigid, while I considered three scenarios that could play out:
a) Chase had a threesome and I was about to find out if the person in the shower was female or male.
I gulped down the horror stuck in my throat.
Oh, my god.
Please, don’t let it be a threesome.
It was so far out of my sexual expertise that I couldn’t even bare to think about it.
b) This was all in my head, and I was having a nervous breakdown. People were probably holding me down that instant while someone was calling for an ambulance.
c) I was in a dream from which I’d wake up any minute, which was very similar to b) and absolutely my ideal scenario.
I turned around to meet Chase’s amused grin and the knowing glint in his eyes. He was standing in the doorway, holding two cups of coffee in his hands. The stunning woman eyed us both, confused.
“Chasse? Est-ce que tout va bien?” she asked again in her accent and he turned around to her.
“Tout va bien. I’m sorry. My wife confused the rooms,” he explained to her. “She was actually looking for me.”
My cheeks flamed.
“Oh.” She let out a laugh, her finger going between her and him. “She thought you and I had une liaison passionnée.”
As it happened, I knew that word.
She was French.
“Come on, Laurie.” Chase winked. “I’ll show you to my room.”
My whole body burned with embarrassment as I stormed past him and headed down the corridor with Chase chuckling behind me.
Chapter 19
As soon as Chase closed the door behind us, I dropped onto his bed and covered my face with my hands, muttering, “Please kill me. This is so embarrassing.”
“Quite the contrary, I think it’s funny.”
I dropped my hands onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who knocked on the wrong door.”
He let out another sexy, roaring laugh and sat down next to me, the motion almost throwing me off the bed. My heart rejoiced, all too aware of the sudden closeness. As he leaned closer, far too close for comfort me, a whiff of his aftershave hit me, and I took a deep breath, eager to inhale his scent.
“You know,” he whispered in my ear, “you were lucky I heard you down the hall and saved you a lot of trouble. God knows what might have happened if you opened the bathroom door and saw him naked. The poor guy would have been traumatized for life, thinking you were the wife and the divorce papers were basically lurking around the corner.”
I had been yelling?
Earth, swallow me up whole!
“Just awesome.” I groaned, which only had Chase laughing again. “What makes you think he was a cheater? Maybe that was his wife.”
I turned to regard him. His fingers brushed my hair back out of my face gently and twisted a strand as his stunning eyes pierced mine. My body heated up under his touch.
“His wife’s Indian. That was the paid help, if you get my drift.”
I raised my eyebrows. “And your conclusion is based on what?”
“I’m psychic.”
I rolled my eyes at his answer.
“Okay, I’ll share my secrets,” Chase said. “The picture frame on the nightstand was a dead giveaway. I don’t know how you could miss it. It’s like by bringing a family portrait with him, he felt less guilty fucking a stranger.” He shook his head. “Anyway, you’ve got to admit, it makes a good story, though. As a lawyer, I’ve heard so many of those, it’s ridiculous. I don’t know why people get married, but don’t keep it in their pants.”
He sure knew what to say and when to say it.
It took all my willpower not to give in and kiss him—until he said the next stupid thing.
“That scene of yours—” He laughed. “And your face. Priceless.”
“Oh, hilarious.” I let out a sarcastic laugh as I rose on my elbows, facing him. “Enjoying yourself, aren’t you? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me where your room was?”
“You didn’t ask.” He kept grinning. “You just assumed. Out of interest, why didn’t you knock on the door to your left rather than assume you got the door right? I mean, there was a fifty percent chance you got the door wrong. That’s what usually crosses one’s mind when a stranger opens.”
“No idea.” I began to chew my nail
Honestly, it was one of those brain dead, impulsive reactions, but I couldn’t exactly tell him that when it came to him, any reasoning became non-existent. I decided to stick to parts of the truth. “Your brother headed in that direction, so I assumed…”
“Ah, my brother again.” He shook his head, giving an exasperated sigh. “This is getting old, Laurie, you know? Let me guess, you still don’t believe me that I had no idea he was here?”
“Actually, I do now,” I said.
His fingers twisted in my hair again, playing with a strand, pulling gently.
“What changed?” he asked absentmindedly, as though my hair was fascinating and he could barely focus on anything else. “Was it my excellent performance last night? Or this.” He leaned forward and placed a kiss on my mouth, the unexpected motion both infuriating and intoxicating. For a moment, our tongues connected in that slow dance I loved. And then he pulled back again, leaving me breathless, wanting more.
Wanting him.
“No, it’s the fact that I didn’t find him in your room,” I said, giving him a playful shove.
His heated gaze brushed my lips, then met my eyes, his glance going back and forth between the two, as if he considered whether to kiss me again.
“Je veux lècher chaque partie de ton corps,” he said slowly, his tongue darting out to lick the corner of his mouth.
>
I stared at him, transfixed by his mouth, his tongue, the memory of the two so vivid I could almost feel his touch on my body, and a blush crept up my face.
I had no idea what he’d said, but it kind of sounded dirty.
And hot.
Hell, I loved it when he was dirty.
His eyes lingered on me for too long, reminding me of our sinfully sexy night and all the fun we had. His tongue brushed his lip skillfully, silently inviting me to play. There was no doubt he was focused on a lot of things—just not on a serious conversation.
I wanted a replay of last night so badly, I almost winced at the soft tug between my legs.
But there were more pressing issues to deal with, like Clint’s phone call.
“What does this mean?” I asked, taking the bite, even though I should have known better.
“I could show you.” He grinned, his eyes glinting with amusement, challenging me to take him up on his offer.
I shook my head. “There is no need to show off your linguistic skills.”
“I could have sworn you were about to compliment them,” he said smoothly.
“You already proved that last night.”
And boy he did.
“That’s right, baby.” He grinned. “Je me suis beaucoup amuse.”
“No idea what you said right now, so I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that one. We have far more important things to do than praise your tongue, and stroke your ego.”
“Yeah? Like what?” His lips twitched. He ran a finger down my neck, and I shifted as another surge of wanting pulsed through me. “Like your jealousy issues? They were about to spiral out of control.”
“I’m not jealous,” I said, slightly defensive. I plucked a loose thread from the bedspread, unsure how to explain my motives. “I just thought you fucked someone hours after me.”
My honesty surprised me. It also made me feel oddly self-conscious. After all, I knew how I sounded: insecure and yeah, jealous.
“Whoa. Let’s stop there,” Chase said. I raised my head and caught his hurt expression, my heart speeding up a little. “I’m offended that you think so lowly of me. Come on. What do you think I am? A sex addict? A cheater? We have a contract. I tend to respect those.” He pressed a hand to his chest theatrically, which made me snort. “My reputation as your husband means a lot to me.”
“Fine,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I was ridiculous in my assumption.”
He gestured with his hand, prompting for more. “And?”
“And what? Don’t push it, Chase.”
“You forget the most important fact: we’re married,” he said proudly, as if I was missing the most obvious thing. “That means in our relationship you won’t ever have a reason to be jealous. I’m very committed to our cause.”
What the hell was our cause?
“Being married has never stopped anyone from cheating,” I mumbled.
“That might apply to a lot of people out there.” He leaned closer. “But I only have eyes for you, baby.”
“Says the guy who agreed to a pretend marriage and married me for my money without even knowing me.”
“Which only shows my level of commitment.” He brushed aside a strand of hair that clung to my cheek. “Have I ever disappointed you?”
I cocked my head. “Seriously? You’re asking me that after I basically summed up our entire relationship?”
He waved his hand. “Yeah, let’s leave aside the ‘I married you for a reason’ part. Other than that?”
His words had me silent.
I stared at him. A tenuous ball of fear formed in my belly as I remembered Jude’s words. “Clint called today. How about that?”
“Good.” He sighed and got up. “Let’s grab some coffee.”
“Good?” I frowned. “Is that all you have to say?”
He shrugged. “Well, what else do you want me to say? It was to be expected. That guy is about to lose all your inheritance and his business. Of course he’s going to be mad. Next thing he’ll appeal to your goodwill. Then he’ll start threatening you. My advice?” He stared at me, his playfulness gone, replaced with a thick layer of ice. “Tell him you’re not interested in talking to him. That’ll save us both time.”
He stopped in the doorway, waiting for me to follow him. That’s when I noticed the suitcases. I scanned his room. It was tidy—too tidy. It looked like he was about to move out.
“Are you leaving?” I asked. An unexpected pang of shock shot through me.
I met his gaze, and for the first time I noticed his face was cleanly shaven, his hair still wet.
“I’m going back to L.A.,” he replied, his tone sober.
“When?”
“My plane leaves this afternoon.”
“Because of Clint?”
Why did I feel faint? That he was leaving was the best thing that could have happened to me, and yet I wanted him to stay.
He nodded. “Yes. I need to get to work. It’s going to be one of many trials.”
“But I thought we couldn’t leave for a week.” My throat closed up. As he cocked his head, his lips drawn into a tight line, realization hit me.
He had lied to me.
The disappointment at having been lied to yet again hurt me, but not as much as the fact that he was about to leave me. “I thought we were being honest with each other.”
“I’m working on it,” he said softly. “Would you have listened to my explanation if I told you I was only here to bail you out?”
He was right.
I wouldn’t have.
“You ignored my wishes, Chase,” I whispered. “I asked you not to go against him, but you went ahead with your plans. Why?”
He sighed and turned around. “I already told you that I don’t have a choice. I owe this to my family.” His footsteps thudded in the silence of the room. The bed moved under his weight as he sat next to me, only inches away.
“I owe it to my family, Laurie,” he repeated. “Please, you have to understand. Don’t you want your inheritance back?”
I fell silent. Did I want it back?
Waterfront Shore—the place had never been one of happiness. A place where I never had a father to grow up with, a place where my mom had killed herself.
Somehow, it didn’t matter either way. It held no importance to me.
“What if I don’t want it?” I asked, casting him a sideways glance. “Will that change anything?”
His lips tightened again. “I’m taking him to court. I’m going to fight for you, for us.”
“My mom set up a Will, Chase. I’m not the heiress. You’re going to lose.”
“No, I won’t,” he said firmly. “Your grandparents were the sole owners at the time your mom died. Your mom would have been their heir, followed by you. If that won’t win us the case, then her letters will.”
“In her will, she wanted Clint to have all her money,” I tried one more time. “There’s no way her letters will say otherwise.”
“How do know? Have you read them?” Chase asked, his tone challenging me.
His question rendered me silent for a moment. “No, but that’s not the point. What matters is that I’m not interested in the money.”
“This is crazy. You listen to your mom even though the law says you’re entitled to a huge estate. The estate has been in your family for a long time. Why do you want to give it away to someone who ruins other people’s lives?”
“Because my mom told me so.” I almost choked on my breath. He was right, of course, but—
“You said she loved you,” Chase continued. “Well, there’s no love deeper than a mother’s love for her child. I don’t believe she was in the right frame of mind when she made that decision, which is why I’ve applied for an order to get access to her medical records.”
I shook my head. “Stop talking as if you’re doing it for me,” I whispered. “You’re doing it for yourself. It’s all about you and Kade.”
He grew silent.
“I do care about you, Laurie.” He intertwined his fingers with mine. “I’m not lying. I really like you. But the thing with Clint, it needs to be done. For my family’s sake. I promised. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do this. But I sure I cannot let you go.”
I turned my head to him, marveling at the beautiful color of his eyes—the color of cloudy days and summer storms.
His words choked me up, brought tears to the back of my eyes.
“You’re really serious about destroying Clint,” I whispered, feeling weak as I took in his words. “Why didn’t you warn me?”
“I told you yesterday.”
“I thought I had time. Why didn’t you tell me before, so I could prepare myself?”
“It wouldn’t have served the purpose. Besides, I didn’t know you well. I couldn’t trust you.” His gaze darkened. “Twelve months, Laurie. That’s how long I need. After that, you can do what you want.”
“Please,” I whispered. “There’s always a choice. You don’t have to do it.”
He sighed. “It’s too late. I can’t go back on my word.”
In the silence of the room, I watched him stand and squeeze into his jacket. His broad shoulders looked amazing, just like every other inch of him.
“What do you mean?” I asked when his statement finally sank in. “We’ve been married for less than three days. How can it be too late?”
“Under the Inheritance Act, you’re entitled to make an application to the court for an order,” he said, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “As your husband, I have the same right as you, but as your lawyer I already applied for an order before we got married.”
I felt faint. “How?”
“While you were busy with your wedding gown, I flew ahead and pulled a few strings to get things moving. You can’t stop me, Laurie. I’m good at what I do, so don’t even try.”
I stared at him, stunned, my words failing me.
It made so much sense. Every single step had been a part of Chase’s plan.
“You will understand,” Chase said. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I want you to know that I’m doing it for us. I’m doing it for your mom, too, because in all honesty, I believe she wanted you to be happy. She wanted you to have everything.”