Chapter 61

Amaya had been a fool to consider letting him share the bed. With the longing look he cast at the bed, she wouldn’t have much choice.

"Amaya, as attractive as you look in the contraception-on-legs robe, this bed is big enough to fit four people. I’m sure we can share without getting into too much trouble."

"Ok. But where is my son?"

"Don't worry about him; Mary and Tyler took him with their twin, and the nanny was with them."

"Okay."

She almost would have believed him if the last few tension-filled minutes hadn’t happened. They might’ve agreed to a sex-free wedding night, but, with her belly tumbling with nerves, her skin prickling with heat, and the rest of her buzzing from repressed need, she knew trouble was only a tumble in the sack away.

But what choice did she have? She couldn’t subject him to a sleepless night; it just wouldn’t be fair. Or mature.

She could do this. Sharing a bed with Chase would be like having a friend over for a slumber party. And guaranteed she’d be the one spending a sleepless night!

"We can put pillows in the middle if you think that’ll help."

He grinned a fully-fledged teasing grin that mocked her, and she briefly wondered what had happened to her bath pep talk. Lying in the giant bed with the sheets almost pulled up to her neck like a blushing virgin, she screamed prude and not the sassy city girl she liked to think of herself.

Why couldn’t she share a bed with Chase and consider it in a non-sexual way?

Because she wanted him! Bad. really, really bad. It was too obvious in her eyes. He wanted her! She wanted him!

That was when it hit her.

If she couldn’t tell him what she wanted, what if she showed him by giving him a little bit of that teasing he was so good at?

She sat up straighter, allowing the sheet to dip, revealing the robe’s gaping neckline, and sent him a smile that could’ve tempted an eunuch.

"No pillows needed. I’ll keep my hands to myself, promise."

To her surprise, his cocky grin slipped, as if he hadn’t expected her to agree with him, let alone flirt right back.

Oh, yeah, this could be fun!

"You better not grope me in my sleep," he muttered, sending her an almost hopeful look that she’d do exactly that.

Amaya rolled her eyes. "Hands off, remember?"

"In that case, move over."

Okay, so they’d settled the sleeping arrangements fairly painlessly. Good. This wouldn’t be too difficult.

Think slumber party. Think friends. Think harmless fun. Easy. Think Tommy’s poop. Think durian fruits; think abs…and muscles; and Chase.

Damn it! She groaned to herself.

However, the instant she dropped her guard, Chase did something to shock her all over again.

"What are you doing?" she shrieked as he undid the zip on his jeans and shucked out of them, standing next to the bed wearing the sexiest, briefest pair of black silk boxers she’d ever seen.

"I’m getting ready for bed. You don’t expect me to sleep in jeans, do you?"

"N-no, but don’t you own PJs?"

He shook his head, looking proud of the fact as she struggled to keep her gaze averted from those boxers and the lean, muscled legs beneath them. Sheesh, he looked good enough to eat—and she definitely wouldn’t go there!

"Too hot. Besides, you should be grateful. I usually sleep nude."

OH GOD! Amaya breathed in as she thought, think about nothing, Amaya; think about something ugly, something fishy, something not hot and delicious like how his bulge...

Damn it!

That shut her up as she closed her eyes and prayed for a miracle.

Her slumber-party theory wasn’t working, not with Chase standing there in his underwear. His very sexy underwear.

"Trying to imagine what I’d look like, huh? Well, if you open your eyes, I can give you a demo—"

"No!" she yelled, her eyes flying open against her will in the faint hope he’d go through with his threat. "Just get under the damn sheets and keep your underwear on."

He smirked. "Your loss."

He had the audacity to shrug out of his shirt, toss it on a chair, and slide in next to her, sending a dazzling smile in the process. Cocky, brash, and totally shameless

The next ten hours were going to be hell. Or heaven, depending on how she looked at it, and right now, with an amazing expanse of broad, tanned chest on display, heaven seemed uncomfortably closer to the mark. "Night, Daisy. Pleasant dreams."

As if.

Pleasant would be the last word she’d use to describe what she knew would be an erotic kaleidoscope of images that would plague her all night.

She turned off the lamp, grateful she couldn’t see him any more. Not that she needed to. The image of Chase standing next to the bed wearing nothing but those black boxers and a smile would be a memory to treasure for years to come.

"Can I ask you something?"

"NO!" She sighed and rolled over to face him, her eyes adjusting to the darkness slowly and just being able to make out his reclining form at a safe distance across the bed.

Though, were a few feet really safe? This was Chase Johnson, her boss, whom she was sharing a bed with—the Chase she’d loved and missed for years. "You will anyway, so go ahead."

"Why did you run away?"

"I didn’t."

The defensive words popped out before she thought about them—an instant response to a subject she’d rather avoid.

"Yeah, you did."

His whisper floated in the darkness, a mixture of accusation and regret, and she wondered how he’d felt at the time.

When she’d left Mary’s place, she’d been too busy coping with her own guilt to think about anything else. She got a call from his father that morning, and he wanted her to return, but she was too scared. She went back to France instead. The people she loved in her life kept hurting her: her dad, then everyone, and she struggled to hold together while trying to build a new life.

Part of her coping strategy had been to paint Chase in a bad light: he wasn’t worthy of her; he didn’t care; he wasn’t capable of emotions.

But what if she’d been wrong?

What if he waited for her?

NO IMPOSIBLE!

What if he had cared, and there was another reason behind his refusal to accompany her? After all, she’d hidden her real reason for fleeing.

"I just needed a new start."

Which was partially true. She just couldn’t tell him the reason behind her desperate yearning for a new start.

"But why? We could have started new—" He trailed off, and she resisted the urge to sit bolt upright and flick the light on.

Had she heard right? Was he saying they could’ve had a relationship if she hadn’t wanted to get as far away from her father as possible?

"Start what?" she shook her head. "You thought I was a stripper. That alone is—" she prompted, eager to hear the words but almost wishing he wouldn’t say them.

What was the point of bringing all this up now? She couldn’t change the past, couldn’t change what she’d done, and knew she could’ve had a future with Chase.

"To start a really strong friendship," he finished, and disappointment pierced her.

So what? Wasn’t that better than hearing he might’ve loved her back then as much as she’d loved him?

"I look for you, you know. I did."

Wow, he’d looked at her. And actually admitted it!

Time to lighten the mood before she lost her head completely, blurted out the truth and sought comfort in his strong arms.

"Aw, shucks. I didn’t think you cared."

"I cared so much, Amaya!"

His two little words hung in the growing silence between them, laden with untold truths and forgotten dreams.

She sighed and said, "But, hey, life happens."

This time, he broke the tension with a forced chuckle. "We’ve both come a long way. And however many times I looked for you and I still care. Goodnight."

Chase’s admission filled her with a slow, delicious warmth that seeped through her body, leaving her cocooned in a delightful haze.

How could she maintain her immunity when he said stuff like that? Better yet, did she want to?

"Don’t let the bed bugs bite," she murmured, snuggling under the sheets and closing her eyes, hoping for sleep and knowing it was useless.

She had too much to think about, starting with her reawakening feelings for a man best left in her past.