Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Alpha Males (40 page)

He ignored her and continued his sniffing.

She made her way slowly to the refrigerator and
pulled out a package of pepperoni.
 
It was one of the few things she had in the house, a misguided attempt
at buying things at the store that were low-carb and could travel well.
 
But trying to start a diet while you
were moving was just setting yourself up for failure, and so she’d ended up
eating doughnuts this morning with her sister Jamie.

“You want some pepperoni, boy?” she asked.
 
She held out a piece of pepperoni,
 
and the dog came over and gobbled it
hungrily.
 
Poor thing.
 
He was probably starving.
 
He wasn’t wearing a collar, so there was
no chance of him having any tags on.
 
She sat down on the floor of the kitchen and held more pepperoni out.
 
The way he was eating was making her
heart break.
 
Who knew when the last
time was that the poor thing had had anything to eat?

She wished she had something more substantial
to feed him, but right now this was all she had, unless he wanted a glazed
doughnut.
 
She opened the Dunkin’
Donuts box that was on the stove and pulled off a piece of pastry.

“Do you like doughnuts, boy?” she asked,
holding it out.
 
The dog put its
snout up to Lindsay’s hand and sniffed, then took the piece of doughnut and
wolfed it down.
 
It sat down and
wagged its tail, apparently excited and waiting for more.

A dog who liked carbs!
 
It was an animal after Lindsay’s own
heart!
 
She gave the dog another
piece of doughnut and then a tentative little pat on the head.
 
The dog’s tail sped up even more.
 
He liked being pet.

Suddenly, Lindsay wanted to keep the dog.
 
She had a mental image of getting up
early, taking the dog for long walks on the trails behind her property, throwing
a ball while the dog frolicked and jumped around, barking happily as it
splashed through ponds and ran through brush.
 

She’d always wanted a dog.
 
Her mother was always saying how they
were too much responsibility, but honestly, how much responsibility could they
be?
 
Children
were allowed to have them, for God’s sakes.
 
Besides, Lindsay worked from home as a
romance writer.
 
It would be nice to
have the company.

Of course, first she would have to try to find
the dog’s home.
 
Maybe she’d put up
posters or something.
 
She had a
feeling he was a stray, though.
 
He
looked a little skinny.
 

The dog’s ears perked up as the sound of a car
driving down the road came through the kitchen.
 
He immediately ran to the front window
and put his paws up on the sill, looking out and giving a small bark.

He was already protecting the place as if it
were his own!
 
How adorable!

Lindsay ate a piece of the doughnut in her
hand.
 
It was settled.
 
She was keeping him.

***

The blonde’s name was Michelle, and she was a
giggler.
 
Everything made her laugh.
 
Chace knew she was a bad idea almost as
soon as he’d started talking to her.
 
The daiquiri had been the first red flag, and he should have followed
his instincts.
 
Following his
instincts had never steered him wrong.

But she was here now, in his truck, giggling away
at everything he said as he brought her back to his house.
 

He glanced at her out of the corner of his
eye.
 
She was gorgeous, that much
was sure.
 
Long blonde hair, bright
blue eyes, flawless skin. She wore a turquoise halter top and a tight black
miniskirt that left little to the imagination.

“This is your street?” she giggled.
 
“Don’t you get scared living out here in
the middle of nowhere?”

“Not really,” he said.
 
“I like my alone time.”
 
It was a thinly veiled hint that she
shouldn’t get any ideas about hanging around tomorrow, expecting him to make
her breakfast, or to take her out for coffee and entertain her.
 
It was much easier when you went back to
the woman’s apartment, but Michelle was visiting here from Chicago.
 
She was here in a hotel, with her
friend, who had called dibs on the room.

 
On
the other hand, Michelle would be going home soon, thousands of miles away
where Chace wouldn’t have to worry about running into her at the store or
having her email him asking when she could see him again.

He pulled into the driveway.
 

Michelle giggled.

He cut the engine.

Michelle giggled.

He sighed.

“Nice house,” she said.
“Thanks.”
 
He was pleased in spite
of himself.
 
The house
was
pretty amazing.
 
It was a two-story, but it looked taller
because the ceilings were so high, which was extremely rare for a house built
on the Cape during the fifties.
 
There was a turret on one side, with a newly shingled roof.
 
The grounds were immaculately kept, with
red roses he’d planted himself. He worked in the garden every morning in the
summer, before heading off to the restaurant.
 
Mornings were hard for him.
 
He liked it better when it was dark out,
and he found the physical labor of gardening to be a good distraction.

He stepped out of the car.
 
Michelle was still sitting in his
truck.
 
He waited a moment, but she
didn’t move.
 
Jesus Christ.
 
She expected him to open the door for
her, like they were on a fucking date.

Before he could decide whether or not to do it,
a familiar bark came from the side of the house.
 
He turned, expecting to see Maximilian
standing in the rose garden.
 

But there was nothing but darkness.

Chace turned back to the car, but the bark came
again.
 
It was definitely Maximilian.
 
But where the hell was he?

And that’s when he saw the dog.
 
He was in the window of Lindsay’s house,
his little tan face pressed up against the glass, his mouth open, his pink
tongue hanging out.
 
Chace’s fists
clenched at his sides.
 
What the
hell was Maximilian doing over
there?
Leaving
Michelle to her own devices, he marched across the lawn and pounded on
Lindsay’s front door.

She opened it a moment later, and when she did,
Chace’s breath caught in his chest.
 
Jesus Christ.
 
Lindsay was
wearing a short red nightgown.
 
It
wasn’t the kind of thing that was meant to be overtly sexy, but Lindsay’s curvy
body filled out the tight little thing just right.
 
The top of her breasts peeked over the
material, and the bottom just skimmed her knees.
 
Her long chestnut hair fell in loose,
tousled waves around her shoulders, like she’d been tumbling around in bed
before he got there.
 
Her full lips
arranged themselves in an O of surprise when she saw him standing on the porch.

The numbness he’d experienced when he’d seen her
before had dissipated, and now all he felt was searing desire.
 
It wall he could do not to grab her and
pull her toward him, kissing her and running his hands up under that short
little nightgown.

“Oh,” she said, her look of surprise turning to
one of annoyance.
 
“It’s you.”

“Who else would it be?” he asked, pushing by
her and into the house.
 
“It’s ten
o’clock and I’m the only one who lives around here.”
 
He took a moment to let his eyes linger
on her long legs, the soft curve of her hips, the swell of her breast.
 
“Unless you were expecting someone?”

“No, I wasn’t expecting someone,” she hissed.
 
She held the front door open, waiting
for him to walk back outside.
 
“And
you’re not allowed to just come barging in here anytime you want.
 
This is my house.”

“You might want to shut that door,” he told
her.
 
“You’re letting in the mosquitoes.”

“Get out.”
 
She opened the door wider.

“Or?”

“Or…I’ll call the police.”

He laughed.
 
“And what will you say?”

“I’ll say that you broke into my house!”

“But I didn’t.
 
You invited me in.”

“No, I didn’t.
 
You just barged in.”

“You opened the door.”

“Yes, because I didn’t know who you were!”
 
She grabbed a sweater off the back of
the chair in the kitchen and wrapped it around herself.
 
He tried to hide his disappointment.
 

“Wow,” he said, looking around. “What a mess.”
The whole kitchen was filled with boxes, the only furniture a rickety looking
wooden table with one lonely chair.
 
He’d been in the house before, of course.
 
But when he’d seen it, it had been
empty.
 
It had almost looked better
then. When it was empty, you could imagine the possibilities.
 
Now it just looked like a rundown house
with a bunch of boxes of junk all over the floor.

 
“I
just moved in,” she said defensively.

“I know.
 
You put your garbage in my bin, remember?”

“My sister did,” she corrected him.
 
“Now what the hell do you want?”

What he wanted, he realized, was to strip her
naked and have his way with her.
 
Hell, he didn’t even have to have her in the bedroom.
 
He would have been happy to take her right
here, right now.
 
He’d lay her down
on the table, let his hands get lost in those loose curls, his mouth get lost
in her curves.

“I came,” he said, “for my dog.”

***

“Your dog?” Lindsay repeated, her heart
sinking.
 
Her stray actually
belonged to Chace?
 
That seemed
impossible.
 
The dog was so sweet,
and Chace…Chace was so…
not
sweet.

Maybe that’s why it had run away.

“Yeah,” he said.
 
“My dog, Maximilian.” As if on cue, the
dog ran over to Chace and started licking his hand.
  
“Apparently, you stole him.”

“I didn’t steal him,” Lindsay said.
 
“He came over.”

“Whatever.”
 
Chace gave Maximilian’s head a pat, but
his eyes were still on her body.
 
She pulled the thin sweater she was wearing tighter around herself.
 
He grinned at her, as if he knew exactly
why she was doing it.
 
She felt her
face flush.
 
Why had she answered
the door wearing her nightgown? She’d forgotten she was wearing it, hadn’t
thought to put something on.

Her breathing accelerated and her nipples
hardened.
 
She wasn’t wearing a bra,
and she prayed he couldn’t see the affect he was having on her.

But from the way he was looking at her, with an
amused look on his face, she was almost sure he could.

He crossed the room in one fluid motion until
he was right in front of her, so close she could feel his body heat.
 
She was so shocked by his sudden
nearness that for a moment, she couldn’t speak.
 

He reached up and put his hands on her
shoulders, and she went to move away, but he held her tight, not letting her.

“Lindsay Benson,” he said, shaking his head as
he trailed a finger down over her collarbone.

So he did remember who she was.
 
Why had he pretended he didn’t?
 
His touch was like an electric shock,
his fingertips setting her skin on fire.
 
Cold shivers slid up her spine, and she went to pull her sweater tighter
again, but he gripped the thin material and pushed it down her shoulders,
letting his fingertips skim her arms as he dropped the sweater to the floor.