Chapter 35

What the hell was he doing? She thought to herself.

Was he out of his mind? Changing the subject, Amaya frowned before saying, "Just as well, because I absolutely do not fancy you!" Amaya turned to go, her face burning. She’d heard enough and lied enough, but she hadn’t actually said enough.

She turned back. "You’re right, Chase—I do get you. And, yes, I get your good looks and your sentiments where women are concerned. I get that you have no desire to settle down and that women want more—I get it all. Well, enough to know that you rarely sleep alone, and no matter how you introduce me to your family or what you think may or may not happen between us while we’re away, but you and I, sharing a bed, well, it wouldn’t work!"

"But it did work before?"

"Are you out of your mind? The past is the past. Stop bringing it up."

"Come on, Miss Patterson, I think it would work rather well!" he retaliated.

And just then there was a tiny shift, a brief moment when they were both imagining it, both thinking about it, both visiting the same place for a very dangerous second. She suddenly felt hot and bothered—partly, to be honest, because he simply oozed sexuality—and yet it wasn’t actually just about him and whether he deigned to lay a finger on her or whether or not he could keep to the spirit of any agreement they might come to.

It was also about the fact that she was a mother and had never had a relationship—sometimes she felt as if she was the last single mother around! Oh, she had made the excuse that she had been too busy looking after her son, and in part that was true—but it was about more than that. She was far too guarded with her heart and far too mistrustful of men, and with Chase, that was wise.

Except…

With Chase, at least she’d know where she stood from the very start.

He watched the small swallow in her throat and watched her cheeks turn pink.

And then she thought of his reaction when he found out she was a single mother—which snapped her mind away from the very dangerous place it had been dwelling.

"The answer’s still no." She said very firmly.

"Can I ask you to at least think about it?" he pressed.

"Think about what?"

"About accompanying me?"

"No, I'm not going."

"How about marrying me?" Chase asked with a steady gaze.

"I'll think about it, but going to the wedding and pretending to be engaged with you, I can't. I already have, and I’ve given my answer. I like working for you, Chase." She bared her teeth in a standoffish smile. "Let’s just keep things professional, shall we? If you’re able to!" And with that, she walked out.

Which told him

For the first time, Chase was the one blushing—not that anyone would notice, but he could feel his ears burn just a touch as she dismissed him and put him in his place. Just as she always did, Chase realised this as he sat, smarting, at his desk. Unused to rejection, it didn’t sit well with him at all.

Then he smirked, more plans brewing in his mind.

Chase could have anyone he wanted! With that thought, he pulled out his phone and scrolled through the list of contacts, looking at the names of the many beauties around the globe he could summon right now, this very minute—until recently, none had really appealed.

Amaya did.

He sat there for ages, thinking, going over and over it in his mind, as the office darkened.

Amaya could get him through these next few hours with his proposal—the wedding, the last card of his father’s card. Knowing the old man would fuck his mind at the wedding reception. How much more bearable it would be with Amaya around... And why did it only have to be for a few days? He had no qualms that they would get along—despite her protests, Chase knew she was attracted to him.

Still did.

So why would it have to end so soon? Maybe it could be a few months, or even as much as a year.

He went to turn on the desk lamp, but though his butler had managed a close replica, the cord was on the other side, and in that second, as he reached for thin air, Chase was reminded why a relationship with Amaya could never last even as long as that.

Few minutes later. He pulled up the manila envelope and knew that Amaya would do everything to get this document's signature and his ass out of this farmland.

Amaya knocked, and he called her in. "I just need the envelope, if that’s okay…"

"Sure."

"Did you sign it?"

"You know the answer, Amaya. Agree to marry me, and I'll sign this, and I'll get my ass out here."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right, anyway. I brought you coffee.’ She didn’t appear in the least uncomfortable when she came in and placed his strong brew on his desk. In her own way, Chase realised she was setting the tone, heading over to the filing cabinet and carrying on efficiently, as if their previous conversation had never happened.

She was absolutely gorgeous, Chase mused. Her blonde hair was working its way out of its low ponytail, dark curls dancing around her face, and he sat watching her thin jumper strain over her generous breasts as she pulled over the footlader and still had to stretch to reach the top file.

She had a fantastic bottom.

Round, curvy, and soft.

What was this fascination with Amaya? Surely he was over her, right?

Of course.

But then she was nothing like the women he usually dated—he usually liked his women trim and groomed to within an inch of their lives and preferably without an opinion.

Amaya had an opinion on everything.

"Go take your rest. Surely, you’re tired from the trip," he said, irritated with himself now. He just wanted the temptation of her out of there.

"Oh!" She glanced at her watch. "Are you sure? I mean, I know you’re busy and all—"

"Yes."

"Okay. Thanks. Is there anything else you need before I go?"

He chose not to answer that one.

He’d get to that soon enough.