An Indecent Proposal(50)

“You have to listen to them live. Just pure awesomeness.” His fingertips brushed my hip as he opened the door while his other hand touched the small of my back to guide me inside. It was such a small, innocent movement, and yet I found myself more perturbed than ever.

“Chase—” My voice came hoarse and heavy.

What, Laurie?

Ask him to touch me again? Ask him to stop being so damn sexy and do all those innocent things that shouldn’t have made me feel the way they did? I couldn’t say any of that. Not now. Not ever.

“Yes?” His gaze was interested and sharp, as if he’d sensed the change in me.

I was shaking my head grimly when I noticed a flash. Instinctively, my eyes scanned the parked cars on the other side of the road, just as another flash caught my attention. Given that the Lux was frequented by celebrities, I wasn’t surprised to see a paparazzo with a long-lens camera glued to his face…only it was focused on us. I turned back the other way to see if someone might be standing behind us, but no one was there.

“That’s strange,” Chase whispered. His tone sent a chill through me.

“What?” I asked, even though I knew already what was wrong. I spun slowly, my gaze searching for the long-lens camera. And then I saw him again, focused on us, snapping away. It was such a strange moment. The knowledge of being watched felt surreal. It made me feel powerless, as though I was in a bad dream and unable to wake up.

Chase was an actor. Maybe the guy had recognized him, and Chase wasn’t the small-time artist he pretended to be. I should have headed over and just asked, but my feet remained glued to the spot. It was so easy to pretend that Chase was the object of attention that I almost believed it.

But only almost.

A grain of fear settled in my heart and instantly began to grow. When the photographer noticed my lingering stare, he hastily pulled out of the parking lot and sped past us.

“Did you see him?” I whispered in shock, and regarded Chase’s features. His expression was a mixture of anger and disbelief. There was no question he had seen the guy.

“What the fuck?” he muttered. “Get in, Laurie.”

Without waiting for my reply, he ushered me into the car and rounded it. For a few seconds, we sat in silence, my blood pumping hard through my veins, our giddy excitement replaced with tension.

“Are you okay?” Chase’s voice drew me back. He was back to his usual composed self.

I nodded silently, even though I wasn’t sure it was the truth. “Is this always happening to you? Because if it is, it’s scary as hell.” I laughed in an awkward attempt to infuse some humor into the situation but, judging by Chase’s expression, failed miserably.

His jaw set, and his eyes turned a shade darker. “I’ll take you home.” He pushed the key into the ignition, fingers hovering, ready to turn.

“Don’t.” My voice sounded a little too shrill as my hand clasped around his forearm, stopping him. A frown crossed his face, and the vein in his neck began to pulse slightly. His eyes assessed me with sudden worry.

“Please don’t take me home just yet,” I whispered, and bit my lip, unsure how to put the sudden waves of fear into words. It was such an irrational reaction, and yet I couldn’t help myself. “He was there.”

“Who?”

“The same guy who just took pictures of us. Or at least I think it was him.” My voice quivered, and I cleared my throat to steady it. “A few days ago, Jude saw someone standing in front of our window. She thought she saw a flash, like that of a camera.” Chase gave me a questioning look, and I continued. “I watched him take several pictures of us, Chase.” I scanned the dark street outside the car window out of fear he might have returned, but the guy was gone. I almost expected Chase to laugh and call me silly, maybe even stupid, but he didn’t.

“I don’t like this.” Chase started the engine and hit the accelerator.

“Where are we going?” I asked. “I can’t go home.”

“You’re not going home,” he said. “I’m taking you to my place. You can stay as long as you want.”

I leaned my forehead against the cold glass. Thousands of reasons as to why someone would want to take pictures of me began to swirl in my head, but none of them sounded plausible. We remained silent throughout the drive to downtown L.A., but I could feel Chase’s worried glance on me from time to time.

Eventually, we arrived at his place, which turned out to be a penthouse in a tall building with a glass front. Chase parked the car in an underground garage, and we rode up the elevator. The flashing red lights of several security cameras should have infused a sense of safety into me, but didn’t. As he unlocked the door, I peered hastily over my shoulder, as though to ensure no one had followed us, which was ridiculous, given the fact that the building had a 24/7 security guard on duty and a concierge manned the front desk, and the cameras probably filmed every corner.