Thrill of the Chase (Dangerous Love) (7 page)

BOOK: Thrill of the Chase (Dangerous Love)
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E
rin didn’t know if it was the incredible orgasm, the insurmountable spread of food Chase’s housekeeper had prepared or a combination of both that had her feeling almost human again. They sat in his king-sized bed, legs crossed and eating burgers and cheese fries, and sipping on root beers. Barefoot and wearing lounge pants and t-shirts, Erin thought that they probably looked like a couple of teenagers gorging themselves after a night out.

“Think we’ll get in trouble for playing hooky from work today?” Erin asked. She had already polished off her burger and was now working on the fries.

“Not if the boss doesn’t find out,” Chase said. Smiling, he dipped a fry in some heavy-duty melted cheese and fed her. A bit of cheese had spilled onto his finger and she licked it off. Even after the orgasm he had given her, Erin could feel her body respond as her tongue slid over his fingertip.

“Continue and I will have you flat on your back.” Though his tone was playful, he was dead serious, and Erin gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

Round two would have to wait. Erin knew there were a few things that had to be discussed. “I want to thank you for last night and for bringing me here, instead of to the hospital. I can be stubborn at times and probably thought that a hospital visit wasn’t necessary.” Wait for it. Maybe that excuse was more believable. He seemed to study her for what felt like an eternity. Erin imagined he was looking for some flaw in her guise. “It was fortunate that Dr. Marshall was able to come over on such short notice.”

The mention of the doctor’s name seemed to relax Chase, and he reached for a second burger. “He’s like an uncle to me. Robert was my father’s best friend. He helped raise me after my mother died.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Erin wondered if he knew about her parents. It wouldn’t take much to find out. An internet search would unearth their names, classifying them as victims of a horrible pier accident. She might not be able to share everything with him, but Erin figured the subject of her parents was safe.

“Do you know about my parents?” He didn’t flinch at the question, but nodded. And then before she could ask how he knew, he told her about his one-on-one visit with Dr. Farrell at the coffee shop in Philadelphia.

Erin didn’t know whether to be angry, concerned or flattered that he had traveled to Philly to track down her former professor. “Why go to Philly? What were you looking for?” she asked.

He laughed, which was a sound that Erin was not used to from him. “It’s not like you’re an open book. Sometimes one must resort to unconventional methods to gain the information needed.”

“Do you always get what you want?” she asked.

He sipped his root beer and placed the glass bottle on the nightstand. His gaze grew dark and haunted. Red flags went up and waved…violently.

“Not always.” His answer was abrupt, telling Erin that it was probably wise to switch conversation topics.

Erin resorted to one that she knew had put him at ease before. “Dr. Marshall reminds me of Professor Farrell. Genuine and loyal to a fault.”

“Loyalty is everything to me, Erin. Without trust, you have nothing.”

That haunted look had not dissipated; in fact it seemed to intensify. She could only assume that he had been burned in the past, maybe by a business partner, or a woman, perhaps. But before Erin could ask why he appeared agitated, a knock sounded at the door. Chase answered the door and was greeted by his housekeeper, Charlotte.

“Mr. Montclair, these came for Ms. Whitley. Where would you like them?” Charlotte looked around the room for the proper place to secure an enormous bouquet of exotic flowers.

The flowers were beautiful and Erin was taken aback by how sweet he was. She had never been sent flowers before, at least not by a man. Parents and brothers didn’t count. “Chase, they are gor…”

“I didn’t send them, Erin. Though I wish I had, considering the smile on your face.” Chase took the flowers from Charlotte and politely dismissed her. She bowed in compliance and left them alone.

Confused, Erin walked over to him and searched the bouquet for a card. Tucked neatly into the green foliage, she found a yellow envelope with her name written simply on the front. Erin withdrew a matching yellow card. Her hands trembled as she read the two sentences:

Hope you are feeling better. See you soon, Angel.

E
rin’s first instinct was to take the bouquet and throw it against the wall. But she couldn’t, and she knew that she had to be very careful. Chase would be scrutinizing every move she made. Erin’s stomach began to roil and she fought desperately to keep down the contents within. She had to get to Paul. Erin folded the card in half and tucked it into her pants.

“Who are they from?” Chase asked, his tone laced with jealousy.

She couldn’t tell him the truth. So what
would
he believe? Stalling, Erin walked over to the small bedside table where Chase had placed her belongings. Erin retrieved her purse and slipped on a sweatshirt and a pair of flip-flops that Charlotte had purchased for her earlier that morning at a boutique just around the corner from Chase’s building.

“Erin?” He was growing impatient and, in all honesty, she couldn’t blame him.

“Apparently, my ex thought it would be amusing to send flowers to me here. Cocky son-of-a-bitch.” There was so much disdain in Erin’s voice that it would be difficult not to believe her. And truth be told, she wasn’t really lying. The son-of-a-bitch that sent the flowers was an ex, just not an ex-boyfriend.

“So he’s stalking you? He must be if he knows you’re here.” He slammed the flowers down on the nightstand. Water seeped from the spider cracks. “May I see the card?” he asked, through gritted teeth.

Shaking her head, “Trust me, it’s not worth it, he’s not worth it.” There was no way he was going to see that card.

Erin slung her purse over her shoulder, prompting an already-agitated Chase to take his frustration to the next level. “Where are you going?”

“To put an end to my ex’s antics.”

“You’re not leaving, and you are certainly not leaving me to go speak with your ex.”

Erin didn’t take kindly to demands, and out of sheer defiance, she glared at him and walked toward the door. Chase blocked her exit and she went into a panic. Erin didn’t like feeling trapped, and when his hands found her wrists, she instantly was back there. Held against her will in that cemetery. Erin began to cry and she screamed for him to let her go. Stunned and possibly fearful of what he’d evoked, he instantly let her go. Erin pushed him away and ran out the door and onto the elevator before he could stop her.

Erin yanked open her purse and withdrew her phone. She had four missed calls and three texts, all from Paul. She read through the last text. Apparently someone—or maybe it was her and she didn’t remember—had answered him. It was obvious that he was worried about her. Luckily, someone responded to his, “
WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!”
with “
Out with friends, having fun, talk to you soon.”
His calls and texts ceased after that, suggesting that he was satisfied with her response.

Erin decided to nail down who had actually sent the texts to Paul at a later date. Right now, she needed to get to Paul. He answered on the first ring. She didn’t even say hello. Erin took a deep breath and said the words that she had hoped she would never have to utter.

“He’s alive, Paul. And he has found me.”

S
cott Morris was a man of means. He never wanted for anything, including women, yet he enjoyed the deprivation, the withholding of sexual intimacy. However, it wasn’t like he was holding out for “the one.” Rather, he indulged only when a current fixation aroused him enough to succumb to his dark and demented desires for control and the complete domination of innocence.

Looking back into his childhood, there wasn’t an event that had set him on his path. He didn’t mutilate animals or imagine himself kicking puppies and kittens. He had never been witness to domestic violence, as his mother and father always spoke lovingly to one another.

No red flags would have clued anyone in that he would become who he was. Well, maybe there was one person who had an idea, a feeling, possibly, that he engaged in such a pastime. But that person had remained silent, which was wise on his part.

Scott did not like to lose. Though when it came to Erin Whitley, it was all he seemed to do. She brought out the worst in him and, because of his fascination with her, he had been brought to within an inch of his life.

Scott watched Erin from the tinted windows of his Audi as she left the Manhattan high-rise building. For the first time in his life he was willing to forget his own rule. There was a very real possibility that his Angel was no longer pure and that she had fucked Chase Montclair last night. But he could forgive her transgressions and chalk it up to the fact that she was out of her mind, due to the drug he himself had slipped into her drink.

She was talking on her cell phone and appeared anxious as she walked to the curb and waved for a cab. Even in her laid-back attire she still looked beautiful, though the dress she had worn last night had left him breathless. And he had almost succeeded. If it wasn’t for her new boyfriend, Erin would have been his last night and willing to do anything in her drug-induced state.

Erin’s cab pulled away from the curb and headed in the direction of her apartment building. Scott put the car in drive and followed her. But it appeared that her apartment was not the destination, and the cab continued down Fifth Street and eventually turned onto Worthington Place. The cab came to a halt in front of the Pierce and Stone Law Firm. He watched her hand the driver a few bills, glance around as if to ensure that she hadn’t been followed, and ascend the few steps to the law office. But before she could enter the building, the door swung open, revealing Paul Whitley.

The sight of Erin’s brother threw him into a silent rage. And as he watched that arrogant prick embrace his Angel, it took everything Scott had not to exit his vehicle and inflict the same pain on her brother that he had experienced in that cemetery.

Be patient, be patient, he willed himself. His time will come.

Paul Whitley looked around, as if he too was surveying his surroundings, and escorted her into the law firm. But she turned around once more, and Scott noticed that his Angel had begun to cry.

S
top her!”

“I’m sorry, sir. But the woman you described just stepped into a cab and is heading east on Fifth Street.”

Chase released the button on the intercom and paced his grand foyer. What the fuck just happened? One minute they were eating burgers in bed and the next she was screaming for him to let her go. And to top it off, her ex-boyfriend sent her flowers to his penthouse. That arrogant fuck!

Chase retrieved his cell phone from the nightstand and dialed an old friend. “Sam, yeah, I need your help. I need you to run a background check on someone.”

“Time frame?” Sam asked. “When do you need it by?”

“Yesterday.” Chase answered.

“Not a problem, Chase. You know that.”

Chase raked his fingers through his hair and sat on his bed. He was lucky to have someone like Sam in his life. They had been friends since the first grade. And though work and life in general prevented them from meeting up often, Chase knew that he could count on Sam for anything, especially with matters that required the utmost discretion. If anybody could provide him with a thorough background on Erin Whitley, it was Sam, the son of a former high-ranking CIA agent. Sam was not CIA, but he had definitely learned a few tricks of the trade from his old man before he had passed. Getting the dirt on someone while remaining invisible was now a hobby of his, which seemed to contradict his rather predictable day job as an accountant.

“Her name is Erin Whitley.”

Chase felt like he was betraying her somehow. He wasn’t comfortable asking Sam to look into Erin’s past, but something wasn’t right. Erin had screamed and started to cry when he tried to prevent her from leaving his apartment. He had let go of her immediately, but he couldn’t get the image out of his mind. It was as if she was frightened that he might hurt her. And it was definitely not the first time her reaction had sent up red flags. Chase thought about their encounter in the back of his limo, how she put on the brakes as soon as he mentioned that he wanted to be inside her. She proceeded to apologize and said that he had done nothing wrong. That it was her—“fucked-up little her.” Her choice of words was disturbing.

Chase shook his head, remembering more of her cryptic responses. She had basically told him not to dig, to leave whatever was in her past alone. And he would have honored her wishes, but some innate response coaxed him on. She had been drugged last night to the point where she couldn’t remember a goddamned thing. And then this morning, an enormous bouquet of flowers from her ex arrived for her at his apartment. It could be a coincidence and the two events could be unrelated, but Chase was willing to bet his entire fortune that they were without a doubt linked somehow.

He didn’t like the look on her face when she had received the flowers from her ex. She had appeared more than annoyed. She looked frightened.

Chase told Sam about Erin’s parents’ death, informed him of her sudden career change upon graduating from college, and identified the handful of people that were in her life, including Dr. Farrell, Josh and her brother Paul. Again, Chase felt guilt wash over him. He was disclosing personal information about Erin without her knowledge. But it had to be done; it felt as if her safety depended on it.

“Got it. I’ll see what I can find,” Sam said.

Chase sighed. “Thanks for doing this.”

After a brief silence, Sam said, “She must be important to you.”

“Why do you say that?” Chase asked, clearly agitated.

“Because you haven’t been this rattled over a woman since Gabrielle.” Another moment of silence passed and then he said, “I’ll give you a call soon.”

“Thanks.” Chase hung up the phone and cursed. He was frustrated for a multitude of reasons, the most recent being Sam’s spot-on observation.

With the investigation underway, Chase felt he could put all his attention into finding Erin. He quickly changed into jeans, sneakers and a t-shirt. Chase decided her apartment was a good place to start. Chase approached the doorman at her building and asked him if he had seen Ms. Whitley that morning. The older gentleman smiled and told Chase that he hadn’t seen the lovely Ms. Whitley since last evening.

Chase looked across the street and was relieved to see a coffee shop with outdoor seating. Chase purchased a mug of half-decent coffee and planted himself at one of the small tables, giving him an unobstructed view of the entrance to her building.

Chase decided that the only thing he could do at that point was wait, which he knew was not going to be an easy task for him. He could be patient, especially in matters of business. He was known in the business world as a man who always got what he wanted. And at first, what he had thought he wanted was Erin. But he had been wrong. He
needed
her. Although Gabrielle had been skilled in bed and could at times hold his attention, he had never needed anyone to make him happy, to complete him or other bullshit like that.

But as he envisioned Erin taking him deep in the shower, with her mesmerizing blue eyes searching his as she pleased him, he couldn’t help but feel like a man possessed. In just one week’s time, he went from swearing off relationships, which gave him the freedom to fuck whomever and whenever he pleased, to needing to claim and be claimed by Erin Whitley. How the hell did that happen? If he was feeling that territorial about a woman he hadn’t even slept with yet, it scared him to think how he would feel after he had actually been inside her.

But even Chase, a man who’d had more women over the last several months than he cared to admit, knew that sex wasn’t what was solely driving him this time around. Yes, he wanted to experience what it was like to claim her body, feel her heat as she surrounded him, hear her scream his name and beg for pleasure that only he could give her. But there was something else that landed him at the coffee shop, waiting for a woman who was at the moment meeting with her ex-boyfriend. The sudden surge of jealousy prompted him to slam his coffee mug on the grated tabletop, causing it to shatter to pieces. A couple at the table to his right looked over at him for a moment, but immediately went back to their conversation. Chase was just about to get up to retrieve some napkins and clean up his mess when a waitress came over with a bin that busboys tend to carry.

“I’ll get that, sir,” she said, her fake eyelashes batting at him. She appeared to be around Erin’s age, maybe a little older, and as she bent over to gather the ceramic shards with a dustpan and brush, the girl smiled at him while giving him a private showing of her breasts.

He sat back in his chair, not even giving the waitress a second glance. Chase had thought that she would have taken the hint, but his standoffish demeanor only seemed to coax her on. “You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?” she asked.

Ignoring her hadn’t worked. Maybe quick, clipped conversation would get his message across. “No, but thank you.”

Before he could stop her, she reached over and grabbed his hand. “Are you sure you don’t need me to look you over?” she asked, turning his hand in hers, looking for an abrasion that she knew didn’t exist.

Chase withdrew his hand from hers and somehow forced a smile. “Just a little clumsy is all,” he said.

“Clumsy…and very cute,” she said, emptying the ceramic pieces into the busboy bin.

“Clumsy…and very taken,” he said. Short of telling her to get the hell away from him, he couldn’t have been more transparent. He wasn’t interested…not anymore, not since Erin. Yes, the waitress would have most likely pleased him physically, allowing him to fuck her in multiple ways, but that would be it. He wanted…no, needed more, now. What he needed was Erin and what only she could give him.

“Such a pity,” she said, pouting.

“Can I have another cup of coffee?” he asked, ignoring her last comment.

“Of course. And if you need anything else, you only have to ask,” she said.

Chase didn’t bother to force a smile this time. No matter what he did, it only seemed to encourage her. He sat back in his chair and stared at Erin’s apartment building, thinking about just how natural it was to tell the waitress, a virtual stranger, that he was, without question, taken.

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