Chapter 27

Unexpectedly, Amaya found herself enjoying the hotel’s dinner dance.

It wasn’t an exceptionally lavish function they attended—that was the type of thing that had gotten the company into a mess in the first place—but it was a genuine, feel-good party, and Chase was the man everyone wanted to greet. His prowess had salvaged a sinking ship and, in the process, saved hundreds of jobs.

And Chase was a very nice date.

He turned off his phone the moment they arrived, and he remembered to introduce her to enough people so that when he was circulating, she didn’t feel like a complete spare part. He even swapped his chocolate and nougat mousse with her when she landed with the lemon torte, and when the dancing started, he didn’t ditch her just because she was a work date, even though on many occasions he could have. In fact, apart from one duty dance with the CEO’s wife and a long conversation with some potential investors, Chase never appeared off duty.

"Thank you…" He held her loosely in his arms as they danced. "I know you have other things to do tonight."

"It’s actually been nice, and Tommy likes his new toy car."

"He seems so fragile." All evening he had made no comment about her father, yet the question had hung between them.

"Yes, he is. He’s always been like that since he was—I mean, he has seafood and a peanut allergy."

"Really? I have the same allergy," Chase pouted.

"Really?"

"Yes. So he is five years old, yeah?" Chase asked.

"Yes. Why do you ask?" Amaya frowned, her heart suddenly beating faster. She didn't have any idea about her boss’s allergy. Would he be able to guess about Tommy’s father?

Her voice trailed off; she didn’t want to talk about Tommy; she really, really didn’t. Yes, tonight was work, but in his arms, swaying to the music, when Chase didn’t push or press the point, really, it was just a relief to be here, to be away from it all, even for just a little while.

"Just curious, I admit." Chase smiled. "Anyway, back to the business, were you enjoying the dance with some of our future investors?" he inquired, laughing at her blush.

"They are boring, but this is my job. So... I need to smile." Amaya rolled her eyes. "How about you? Enjoy those beautiful wives?"

"Are you jealous?"

"Jealous? Why the hell would I—"

Well, Amaya, there is nothing to be jealous about. It's just a job."

"I am not jealous; besides, I don’t know how you fit it all in." She tried to change the subject.

"I just do. I believe they were all excited about the rumours about me looking for a wife, and surely enough, they were giving me their friend’s name." He stared down at her. He looked down at her for a long moment.

"I am glad it is you tonight," Chase said. And close to midnight, with champagne inside her, it would have been very easy to lean closer, very, worryingly easy to rest her head on that chest that was just inches from her, and terribly, terribly easy to wonder at his words. So to stop herself, she reminded herself of the real reason that she was here and couldn’t help herself from asking.

"What happened to the Russian beauty?" She spoke to his lips the same way that he was speaking to hers, and suddenly it wasn’t working. Reminding herself of his appalling reputation wasn’t keeping her safe—she was having to forcibly resist the urge to move closer to him.

"She said those four little words."

"Three little words!’ Amaya corrected, because occasionally his excellent pride slipped.

"No, four..." She could see the shadow of growth on his chin, feel his full mouth moving as he spoke, feel his breath, and suddenly wish he’d just kiss her. "When is the wedding?"

"Really? Why am I not surprised?"

She could only smile at her own stupidity as realisation hit, and she was so, so glad she hadn’t quickly answered what she had briefly assumed was a question, because it took a second to work out he wasn’t talking about them—he was answering her question about the Russian heiress.

Chase smiled. "So I told her—I don't want to marry her."

"Come on," he said as the music ended, and he broke away, "let’s go. I’m staying at the office. We have a flight to catch…" he squinted at his watch, "in five hours." Which translated to about three hours’ sleep if she went home. "What about you?"

Amaya breathed heavily. "I already have my luggage with me. I called Tommy about being late and probably saw him tomorrow. I'll video chat with him in the morning."

A few minutes later, Chase pulled out the sofa bed in the spare room of his office, then he retired to his luxury suite. Amaya lay staring at the ceiling, thinking about him. Not once had he pounced on her; he had never made her feel uncomfortable, and apart from that blistering first invitation, there had been nothing else. Maybe she was getting crazy; maybe she was being stupid—

Except he’d caught her looking at him earlier.

Amaya squirmed in embarrassment and then consoled herself that if she’d been standing in her bra and panties, he’d have had a quick peek too.

It offered no consolation.

"What’s the point of it all, Amaya?"

His voice over the intercom penetrated the darkness and made her smile. He did this sometimes.

"So you can make pots of money," she responded.

"I’ve made pots of money."

"So you can have any woman you want."

There was a pensive pause.

"I have a woman I want."

"Good for you; finding a wife nowadays is hard work," she purred. Gabby had warned her already about Chase’s dislike of women who like nothing but money.

"I know. But let's not talk about me."

"Okay," Amaya murmured.

"Why are you here?’ Chase asked. "Working yourself into the ground, that cruel boss never giving you a night off? "

"Because I love my work and I need this for my son!" she duly answered.

"Rubbish!" came the voice over the intercom, and Amaya smiled. "Why are you here, Amaya?"

She paused for the longest time, almost expecting the door to open and Chase to walk in. This conversation, despite taking place over an intercom, was surprisingly intimate. And lying in the dark, she was almost tempted to tell him about the bills, the house, and her dream of finishing her master's. About how this job was her lifeline, about how, one day, she hoped it might set her up to pursue her goals...

Which was hardly the conversation to have with your boss.

"Goodnight, Chase!"

She could never have guessed, but save for those two words, her office door would have opened.

He liked her.

Chase stared up at the familiar ceiling, at the dimmed lights that never actually went off—and it was a measure of how much he liked her that he didn’t go to her.

It had nothing to do with Justin’s stern warnings—well, maybe a bit. She needed a wife to show off. But it was more than that.

He didn’t want to lose Amaya. He had found her. After all those years of looking and daydreaming, He finally found Daisy.

He liked her.

Not just liked her, but actually liked her.

Liked having her in his life.

She was nothing like anyone he’d met before. She brightened up the office with her chatter and her fizz, and she answered him back and made him smile.

And she liked him too. In that way.

He’d actually been beginning to wonder—he’d been a bit taken aback when she’d so coolly turned him down and not talked about their past or about what happened before.

Working with him, she was so on guard and so scathing of his ways that he wondered if the reason he liked her was that Amaya was the one woman who didn’t fancy him.

Then, tonight, he’d seen her expression in the mirror, and in that second, before she’d realised he’d caught her, he'd seen the want in her eyes.

He lay racked with rare indecision. He saw those looks before him on his bed, a few hours before Tyler’s wedding.

His instinct was to let nature take its course.

With women, Chase always followed instinct—and instinct told him to go out there to where she lay, in those ugly pyjamas she wore. Chase became instantly hard at the thought of those curls on the pillow and her soft skin.

So why the reticence?

Because it would last a couple of weeks—a couple of months perhaps—and then she’d want more from him, like they all did.

Chase closed his eyes at that sudden thought, but circles of light still danced before his eyes.

He hadn’t seen anyone since Amaya had joined the staff and had finally dumped those flings, whom he’d kept dangling for weeks.

He thought about going out there to Amaya—how he thought about going out there—but something stopped him: she really needed this job, and for now, at least, he wanted her around.

Chase couldn’t have both.