Chapter 25

Chase raised his brow. "So, tell him that you are working."

Is he out of his freaking mind? I can't just tell that to my five-year-old son!

But do I have a choice?

No.

She sighed, "I can't. I've been putting him off all week." She just couldn’t do it to him again. "I’d really like to finish on time tonight." When Chase just frowned, she pushed a touch further. "Look, I don’t usually say no, but surely there’s someone else you can ask? How about that Korean singer? Or the Victoria's Secret model you've been involved with these past few days?"

Which was a stupid thing to say. There were plenty of women Chase could ask, and there was one reason and one reason only that he was asking her! "I was hoping for an early night," Chase sighed. "At least with you, it would be just dinner!" Which was a rather strange compliment, but it brought a reluctant smile to her face. "I’ll ask Eva—where is she, by the way?"

"No, don't..." Amaya was flustered, for Eva had sneaked off to date her boyfriend. The last thing the poor woman needed was a night on the town with Chase. "I’ll just go. It’s fine. Let's make it quick."

"You’re sure?" Chase frowned, just a touch guilty now that he had got his own way, as he knew full well where Eva was. "Tell you what—we can visit your son on the way."

"We can’t," Amaya fretted. "I’ll be in an evening dress!" she lied. Of course, there was no way she would allow Chase to see his son. The resemblance was so great—God, there was no way she would allow them to meet.

"So?" Chase grinned. "Go on, get ready, and we’ll leave in an hour."

"I said no; if he sees me, Tommy won't let me go. I'll call him instead."

"Okay," Chase replied, closing the door to his office before taking a small glance at his secretary’s back as she took her old iPhone and video chatted with her son.

Few minutes later. Amaya faked a small smile in the mirror. "Damn, this is so tiring."

It was testament to the nature of her job that she could get ready for a formal function within the hour. There was a bathroom on their floor, and Amaya stuffed her curls under a cap and quickly showered. She even had a wardrobe in her office—her day bag was already packed and ready for her jaunt to London in the morning, and Amaya rummaged in it for her styling wand and spare make-up bag, then set to work on her face, squirting drops in her eyes in the hope they’d sparkle and then working on her lips and cheeks.

With some difficulty, she pulled her stockings onto her damp legs and then slipped on her fast-becoming-familiar little black dress and clipped on a string of black pearls before coaxing her tired feet into stilettos.

And then she tackled her hair. Spritzing her wayward corkscrew curls around the wand, she tries to coax them into shape.

It was a routine she was starting to perfect.

"You need some more evening wear," was Chase’s only comment when he saw that she was in her black dress again.

"Just as soon as I get a day off!" Amaya retorted. "Aren’t you ready?"

He didn’t answer, but then, Chase rarely answered pointless questions. Instead, he strode out to the lifts with Amaya following behind, holding a paper back and stuffing her evening bag with keys, lipstick, hair serum, and plasters as the lift plummeted down.

"I forgot to put on perfume."

He sniffed the air. "You smell fine."

Men!

He glanced at the Paw Patrol paper bag she was carrying but didn’t comment, and neither did Amaya, not bothering with small talk. She just sat in the back of the car with Chase as they moved at a snail’s pace through the heavy peak-hour traffic, a knot of tension in her stomach, sure that at any moment he’d tell her it was too late to stop at his apartment. Glancing at her watch, she realised they weren’t going to be able to make it, and it was actually a relief.

"Ruru first!" Chase drawled, not knowing the nerve he was pricking as he let them into his massive apartment. The television was blaring as usual, and Amaya paced as Chase chopped up some chicken breast and added a spoonful of rice to Ruru’s bowl.

"Don't. He’s on a diet; I'll bring him to Justin tomorrow," Chase explained.

She didn’t quite get where Ruru fit into the scheme of things. She’d been to Chase’s apartment on several occasions and still couldn’t figure out what Chase was doing with a dog. Neither man nor beast seemed to particularly like each other, and the last thing a person with Chase’s schedule needed was a dog—and a lapdog at that.

But it wasn’t her place to ask questions. It was her job to just book the vet in for home visits or make sure that the dog sitter knew when Chase was suddenly called away.

"I have perfume in the bathroom, if you want some." Chase called from the bedroom. "There is probably some perfume there that has been left behind—help yourself."

Of course, some perfume was left behind by his naked fans.

It was like the beauty section in a chemist’s shop—perfumes, lipsticks, and body lotions, all left behind by their previous owners—but it wasn’t them that caught her attention. In the mirror, she could see Chase’s reflection—dressed in black hipster underwear, he was selecting an evening shirt, and though she was getting used to Chase, she wasn’t used to seeing quite so much of him.

He was gorgeous. So….. hot.

He was so pompous and arrogant that, for the most part, Amaya was able to switch off from the fact that he was, quite simply, the most beautiful man she had ever seen—only now she was seeing him.

He had long, muscular legs that even managed to look sexy in socks. As he pulled on his shirt, she caught more than a glimpse of his chest—a smattering of black hair that made Amaya’s toes curl in her already tight shoes. Dragging her eyes away, she selected some perfume and squirted it on, but her eyes wandered back to the stunning view of him, to those long, lean legs as he sat on the bed and pulled on his trousers.

And then he caught her looking.

His eyes held hers in the mirror for an indecently long time, a ghost of a smile spreading on his lips, and then she snapped her eyes away.

"Shit, that was scary," she muttered to herself.

"Ready?" So flustered was Amaya that his voice in the doorway made her jump. "If we want to stop at your apartment to leave your son’s toy, we’d better leave."

How did—

Nevermind; of course he knew.

With her eyes burning and her back and thighs pressed into the leather seat of Chase’s car, Amaya knew that he knew.

Despite the banter, despite the rebuffs, and despite her thoroughly cool demeanour around him, Chase Johnson knew that he moved her.

I don't need to let him see my son; I just have to call Tommy’s sitter, and I'll give him the toy as promised. She pondered herself.

Thirty minutes later, the car stopped at her apartment building.

"I’ll be quick. This won't take—"

"It's okay; take your time," he grumbled, taking something from his wallet. "Give this to your babysitter; I owe her that much for taking you with me."

"No, there is no need for that."

"Please, Amaya, give this to your son’s sitter; just think about this as her bonus."

And suddenly, for the first time in many weeks, Amaya felt vulnerable.