Thrill of the Chase (Dangerous Love) (2 page)

E
rin had never been summoned before, not by a boss nor by a professor. With report in hand, Erin walked behind Lydia, Chase Montclair’s personal secretary. Erin kept her head down, taking note of the rich mahogany hardwood floors. They rounded a corner and Erin found herself in what appeared to be a lobby. A set of simple, but what she suspected to be very expensive, chairs atop an Oriental rug served as a centerpiece for the space. She was worlds away from her research lab, a space that gave off a hospital-like feel that was cold and devoid of character. Erin looked to her right and saw a large desk. A wall fountain with recessed lighting illuminated what Erin assumed was Lydia’s work space.

What was she doing here? Did she screw up somehow? Erin’s head was going a mile a minute as she tried to figure out what she possibly could have done wrong to earn a trip to the boss’s office. All her reports had been completed on time. She had never been late to work or even called out sick. What the hell was happening? She had worked so goddamned hard to fly under the radar. But here she was, being escorted to the office of the CEO, a man she had never met before.

A large conference room was positioned to Erin’s left, though the lights were out within the room, its occupants long gone. Lydia guided Erin to the only lit office on the floor and as they reached the doorway, she announced Erin’s arrival to the man behind the desk and promptly left Erin alone with Chase Montclair. He didn’t stand in her presence, but simply gestured Erin to a brown leather chair situated directly across from him with a wave of his hand. The plush leather enticed her to sit back and relax, but she rebelled and sat on the edge, positioning herself to hightail it out of there the first chance she got. He was on his cell phone and apparently confirming dinner reservations for two. A moment later, he ended the call and set the phone on his desk. His attention shifted completely to her and it was then Erin got a good look at one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen. It wasn’t his perfectly tailored suit or the subtle scent of his cologne that she tried desperately not to detect, but his piercing blue eyes that caused her to suddenly lose the ability to breathe. Although it was the end of a long work day, every brown hair on his head was magically in place. She tried to picture what he would look like with his hair mussed, or better yet, what activity could cause his hair to become disheveled. The naughty thoughts this man seemed to evoke were coming rapidly, and it took everything she had to appear composed. Erin took a deep breath, convinced herself that this man was just that—a man—and sat up in her chair, her chin held high.

He leaned back in his chair, appearing to make himself comfortable. Despite his broad shoulders and frame there was still room for one more on his swivel chair—on his lap to be precise. A slight smile appeared on his face and Erin cringed. Was he reading her mind? Getting a bird’s-eye view of her scandalous thoughts? His smirk morphed into an all-business expression and Erin relaxed somewhat. “Ms. Whitley, thank you for coming. Were you on your way home when Lydia came for you this evening?”

His voice was smooth and steady, which only made the situation more frustrating. He was calm and poised. Inside, she was anything but.

“I wasn’t leaving until I finished my report on Cabraxol.” Her stomach was churning and she was unraveling swiftly. Erin tightened her grasp on the report on her lap. She was clawing for solid ground and the one thing that she was certain of: her report.

“May I see?”

“Of course.” She handed the packet to him, but as he reached for it his fingers brushed hers and she felt what could only be described as a charge pass between them. She felt hot and on the verge of breaking into a sweat. In her mind, she was not just sitting on his lap now, but straddling him and taking the first steps to muss up those chocolate-brown locks. That damn smirk had returned to his face. Erin sat back in her seat, her face hot and, she suspected, the color of crimson.

He leafed through the first few pages and then found her conclusions at the back of the report. “Will you be presenting the drug to the board?”

“No, Mr. Montclair, someone else will be presenting the findings.” A year ago, Erin would have been up for any challenge, but not now. She was comfortable remaining in the lab with two research assistants who usually minded their own business, researching new medicines and compiling reports. Erin enjoyed flying below the radar. But she couldn’t dismiss a nagging, unrelenting feeling that her solitary life in the lab was about to change.

“This research must have taken you months. The presentation should only be given by someone with such intimate knowledge of the drug.”

Intimate.

As he uttered that word, Erin saw the last thread that was holding her dignity intact unravel, leaving her dangerously exposed. Erin hadn’t desired a man for some time. Not once in the past eleven months had she yearned for the company of another, nor the easy release her own hand could provide. Erin crossed her legs, trying to thwart her body’s pitiful response. But she was already wet with need and she again blushed. His eyes grew dark as they drifted to her legs and then to her eyes. Fortunately, Sex God’s secretary buzzed in through the intercom.

“Mr. Montclair, I’m leaving for the evening. Will you be needing anything else?”

His eyes never left Erin’s. His stare was intense, and Erin almost got up and walked out. “No, thank you, Lydia. That will be all.”

And with Lydia’s dismissal, Erin’s body switched gears. A moment ago, she was a horny mess, imagining him screwing her any way he wanted in his swivel chair and on top of his very expensive desk. Now they were alone, his secretary gone, the entire floor devoid of life, and even though she hated it, Erin felt her fight-or-flight response come to life.

Erin stared down at her hands and noticed the hint of a tremble. She grabbed the hem of her skirt with both hands, in hopes of steadying them, or at least keeping them occupied.

“Have dinner with me tomorrow night.”

Were these the dinner reservations he was making when she first walked into his office? What a presumptuous ass!

It wasn’t a question, but a command. She could give Paul some latitude regarding his domineering nature, but Chase…she didn’t owe him anything. Erin fisted her hands in an attempt to calm them. “I appreciate the invitation, but I don’t date. I mean I don’t date people I work with, or for.” She bit her lip and shook her head.

He eyed her closely. He wasn’t looking at her legs or allowing his eyes to peruse other parts of her body. No, he was looking directly in her eyes as if he was searching for something. The needy feeling had been replaced with fear, and all she wanted to do was run.

Get out of my head. You won’t like what you’ll find.

“No, I think you were telling the truth the first time when you said you don’t date, period,” he said, folding his hands in his lap.

Now she was pissed off. Her therapist was the only person she had given full access to her unfiltered thoughts. For Paul’s sake and sanity, she had given him the PG version. Chase Montclair had no jurisdiction here. Boss or no boss, she wasn’t backing down. “I don’t see how my social life, or the lack of one, is any of your business.” His smirk grew, along with the heat in his eyes. He seemed to be enjoying himself and the challenge she was presenting. But this was not a game. She had worked too hard. She had come too far. Erin stood from her chair, her legs almost buckling beneath her.

“Erin, everything is my business, including my employees and the people they may or may not be fucking.”

Erin felt her jaw drop and her breathing hitch. She knew she was staring at him, but who the hell did he think he was? And even more disturbing, why was she so turned on at this very moment? Her emotions were in disarray. Erin wanted to smack him across the face. But she also had the insatiable craving to allow him to take her right there, in any position of his choosing. She wasn’t thinking straight, which meant she had to get out of there, and quickly.

There was no response to one of the most inappropriate things Erin could imagine a boss saying to his employee. There were laws prohibiting such behavior in the workplace, weren’t there? But as their stare-down continued, Erin realized that the law probably didn’t apply to him. He was too confident, too relaxed.

She couldn’t work for a man like that, so demanding…so arrogant…so incredibly sexy. It was a deadly cocktail, one of which she couldn’t risk even a sip. “With all due respect—not that you deserve any—I quit!” Erin stormed out of his office and though she didn’t turn around, she could feel his eyes boring into her.

How was it possible that a man could simultaneously trigger her defense mechanisms and send her into a sexual frenzy? With every step, she put more and more distance between her and Chase Montclair. It wasn’t until she was alone in the elevator that she exhaled and realized what the hell had just happened. She was proud that she had stood up for herself and shut that cocky son-of-a-bitch down. But as the elevator descended, so did her mood, and she realized that she was suddenly very unemployed.

Eleven Months Ago

“Pencils down, everyone.”

Erin could hear a handful of groans a few rows back, and she silently shared the sentiment. Normally, she was confident with her test-taking abilities, as her 4.0 grade point average showed. But this was no ordinary final exam. It was the last test Erin would take as an undergrad.

A long line had already formed down the aisle. The professor insisted that his students hand deliver their tests. She had heard a few classmates say the old man was paranoid and purposefully looked for cheaters. But Erin found him to be meticulous and, as she discovered during her freshman year, a man of compassion unrivaled by all others. Dr. Farrell wasn’t just her professor; he doubled as her advisor. He had been there for her from the very beginning, seeing Erin through the toughest moment of her life only four months into her freshman year.

Erin noticed that the tightly woven knot in her stomach had finally started to unravel. Her nerves were shot from the hours of studying and pulling all-nighters. Erin was slowly shuffling along when she felt a hand tap her on the shoulder. “Coming with us, Erin?”

“What watering hole are you frequenting tonight?” She smiled at Josh, and though he flashed a huge grin encouraging her to come out with their study group to celebrate the end of finals, he already knew her answer.

“You need to ask?”

“You should buy stock in that place. They shout your name every time you walk through the Irish Pub’s doors.”

Josh put his arm around Erin’s shoulders and sighed. “Yes, I’m like Norm from
Cheers
. I’ve spent a lot of money and time to obtain such notoriety. I’ll miss that place when we graduate.”

Erin sighed, knowing she should spend one of her last nights in Philadelphia as an unruly and carefree college student. But she just didn’t have it in her tonight. All she wanted to do was go home to her one-bedroom apartment, open a bottle of cheap wine and eat leftover Chinese food. “Will you guys be going out tomorrow night?” she asked.

“Well, for you, I guess I’ll have to commit to two consecutive nights of being a drunken mess.”

Erin gave him a quick jab to the gut. “You spoil me, you know. How chivalrous of you to take one for the team.”

“Like I said, anything for you, Erin.”

Josh never took her rejections personally. He had been a good sport and an even better friend over the past few years. He was the first guy Erin had met at the University of Pennsylvania. From the moment he sat next to her in Dr. Mazano’s Chemistry class, the phrase “Misery loves company” had definitely pertained to them.

Josh gave her a little nudge, and she found herself next in line.

“Ms. Whitley, you did well, I take it?” Dr. Farrell asked. The professor reminded her of an older Morgan Freeman, not in looks, as he was Caucasian, but in demeanor. Dr. Farrell had a way of calming her nerves with just the sound of his voice. And although he wasn’t a large man, there was a quiet confidence about him that demanded respect.

“I think I did okay.” Deep down, Erin knew she had aced the exam. But it wasn’t like good grades came easy to her. She always had to work for them, which, she admitted begrudgingly, only made them sweeter.

He chuckled as he shook his head. “Would you mind staying a moment after class?” he asked as he collected Josh’s test booklet.

“Sure, no problem.”

Josh and Erin walked over to an empty row of chairs. She plopped her book bag on one of the desks, but before she could say anything, Josh gave her a quick hug. He suddenly appeared a little melancholy, as if the end of final exams and college graduation signified the dissolution of their friendship. She gave him a hug and a peck on the cheek. “Have fun tonight. If you pace yourself and you’re not too hungover, we can do it all again tomorrow. Promise.”

“Promise?” He was persistent, she had to give him that.

“Yes, now go toss a few back for me. And do me a favor?”

“And what would that be, beautiful?”

“Although you will be three sheets to the wind at some point this evening, try to keep an eye out for my brother tonight. He found out he passed the bar exam this afternoon and is planning to hit the bars with some of his buddies. Paul’s not a big drinker, but when he does go out, the Irish Pub is usually where he ends up.”

“Babysitting duty…wouldn’t be the first time I had to monitor the alcohol intake of a Whitley.”

Erin pushed him playfully with both hands to the chest. “Must you remind me of that night every chance you get?”

“Oh, what night might that be? Hmm…the one I had to hold your hair back as you puked behind a tree in Rittenhouse Square?” He tapped his finger to his chin. “Or maybe it was the night I found you doing a keg stand in that frat house. You were so proud that you accomplished such a feat—that was, until you ran out onto the porch afterwards and I witnessed you heaving over the balcony. That was not a fun walk home for either of us, I recall.”