My whole body burned with embarrassment as I stormed past him and headed down the corridor with Chase chuckling behind me.
Chapter 19
As soon as Chase closed the door behind us, I dropped onto his bed and covered my face with my hands, muttering, “Please kill me. This is so embarrassing.”
“Quite the contrary, I think it’s funny.”
I dropped my hands onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who knocked on the wrong door.”
He let out another sexy, roaring laugh and sat down next to me, the motion almost throwing me off the bed. My heart rejoiced, all too aware of the sudden closeness. As he leaned closer, far too close for comfort me, a whiff of his aftershave hit me, and I took a deep breath, eager to inhale his scent.
“You know,” he whispered in my ear, “you were lucky I heard you down the hall and saved you a lot of trouble. God knows what might have happened if you opened the bathroom door and saw him naked. The poor guy would have been traumatized for life, thinking you were the wife and the divorce papers were basically lurking around the corner.”
I had been yelling?
Earth, swallow me up whole!
“Just awesome.” I groaned, which only had Chase laughing again. “What makes you think he was a cheater? Maybe that was his wife.”
I turned to regard him. His fingers brushed my hair back out of my face gently and twisted a strand as his stunning eyes pierced mine. My body heated up under his touch.
“His wife’s Indian. That was the paid help, if you get my drift.”
I raised my eyebrows. “And your conclusion is based on what?”
“I’m psychic.”
I rolled my eyes at his answer.
“Okay, I’ll share my secrets,” Chase said. “The picture frame on the nightstand was a dead giveaway. I don’t know how you could miss it. It’s like by bringing a family portrait with him, he felt less guilty fucking a stranger.” He shook his head. “Anyway, you’ve got to admit, it makes a good story, though. As a lawyer, I’ve heard so many of those, it’s ridiculous. I don’t know why people get married, but don’t keep it in their pants.”
He sure knew what to say and when to say it.
It took all my willpower not to give in and kiss him—until he said the next stupid thing.
“That scene of yours—” He laughed. “And your face. Priceless.”
“Oh, hilarious.” I let out a sarcastic laugh as I rose on my elbows, facing him. “Enjoying yourself, aren’t you? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me where your room was?”
“You didn’t ask.” He kept grinning. “You just assumed. Out of interest, why didn’t you knock on the door to your left rather than assume you got the door right? I mean, there was a fifty percent chance you got the door wrong. That’s what usually crosses one’s mind when a stranger opens.”
“No idea.” I began to chew my nail
Honestly, it was one of those brain dead, impulsive reactions, but I couldn’t exactly tell him that when it came to him, any reasoning became non-existent. I decided to stick to parts of the truth. “Your brother headed in that direction, so I assumed…”
“Ah, my brother again.” He shook his head, giving an exasperated sigh. “This is getting old, Laurie, you know? Let me guess, you still don’t believe me that I had no idea he was here?”
“Actually, I do now,” I said.
His fingers twisted in my hair again, playing with a strand, pulling gently.
“What changed?” he asked absentmindedly, as though my hair was fascinating and he could barely focus on anything else. “Was it my excellent performance last night? Or this.” He leaned forward and placed a kiss on my mouth, the unexpected motion both infuriating and intoxicating. For a moment, our tongues connected in that slow dance I loved. And then he pulled back again, leaving me breathless, wanting more.
Wanting him.
“No, it’s the fact that I didn’t find him in your room,” I said, giving him a playful shove.
His heated gaze brushed my lips, then met my eyes, his glance going back and forth between the two, as if he considered whether to kiss me again.
“Je veux lècher chaque partie de ton corps,” he said slowly, his tongue darting out to lick the corner of his mouth.
I stared at him, transfixed by his mouth, his tongue, the memory of the two so vivid I could almost feel his touch on my body, and a blush crept up my face.
I had no idea what he’d said, but it kind of sounded dirty.
And hot.
Hell, I loved it when he was dirty.
His eyes lingered on me for too long, reminding me of our sinfully sexy night and all the fun we had. His tongue brushed his lip skillfully, silently inviting me to play. There was no doubt he was focused on a lot of things—just not on a serious conversation.
I wanted a replay of last night so badly, I almost winced at the soft tug between my legs.
But there were more pressing issues to deal with, like Clint’s phone call.
“What does this mean?” I asked, taking the bite, even though I should have known better.
“I could show you.” He grinned, his eyes glinting with amusement, challenging me to take him up on his offer.
I shook my head. “There is no need to show off your linguistic skills.”
“I could have sworn you were about to compliment them,” he said smoothly.
“You already proved that last night.”
And boy he did.
“That’s right, baby.” He grinned. “Je me suis beaucoup amuse.”
“No idea what you said right now, so I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that one. We have far more important things to do than praise your tongue, and stroke your ego.”
“Yeah? Like what?” His lips twitched. He ran a finger down my neck, and I shifted as another surge of wanting pulsed through me. “Like your jealousy issues? They were about to spiral out of control.”
“I’m not jealous,” I said, slightly defensive. I plucked a loose thread from the bedspread, unsure how to explain my motives. “I just thought you fucked someone hours after me.”
My honesty surprised me. It also made me feel oddly self-conscious. After all, I knew how I sounded: insecure and yeah, jealous.
“Whoa. Let’s stop there,” Chase said. I raised my head and caught his hurt expression, my heart speeding up a little. “I’m offended that you think so lowly of me. Come on. What do you think I am? A sex addict? A cheater? We have a contract. I tend to respect those.” He pressed a hand to his chest theatrically, which made me snort. “My reputation as your husband means a lot to me.”
“Fine,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I was ridiculous in my assumption.”
He gestured with his hand, prompting for more. “And?”
“And what? Don’t push it, Chase.”
“You forget the most important fact: we’re married,” he said proudly, as if I was missing the most obvious thing. “That means in our relationship you won’t ever have a reason to be jealous. I’m very committed to our cause.”
What the hell was our cause?
“Being married has never stopped anyone from cheating,” I mumbled.
“That might apply to a lot of people out there.” He leaned closer. “But I only have eyes for you, baby.”
“Says the guy who agreed to a pretend marriage and married me for my money without even knowing me.”
“Which only shows my level of commitment.” He brushed aside a strand of hair that clung to my cheek. “Have I ever disappointed you?”
I cocked my head. “Seriously? You’re asking me that after I basically summed up our entire relationship?”
He waved his hand. “Yeah, let’s leave aside the ‘I married you for a reason’ part. Other than that?”
His words had me silent.
I stared at him. A tenuous ball of fear formed in my belly as I remembered Jude’s words. “Clint called today. How about that?”
“Good.” He sighed and got up. “Let’s grab some coffee.”
“Good?” I frowned. “Is that all you have to say?”
He shrugged. “Well, what else do you want me to say? It was to be expected. That guy is about to lose all your inheritance and his business. Of course he’s going to be mad. Next thing he’ll appeal to your goodwill. Then he’ll start threatening you. My advice?” He stared at me, his playfulness gone, replaced with a thick layer of ice. “Tell him you’re not interested in talking to him. That’ll save us both time.”
He stopped in the doorway, waiting for me to follow him. That’s when I noticed the suitcases. I scanned his room. It was tidy—too tidy. It looked like he was about to move out.
“Are you leaving?” I asked. An unexpected pang of shock shot through me.
I met his gaze, and for the first time I noticed his face was cleanly shaven, his hair still wet.
“I’m going back to L.A.,” he replied, his tone sober.
“When?”
“My plane leaves this afternoon.”
“Because of Clint?”
Why did I feel faint? That he was leaving was the best thing that could have happened to me, and yet I wanted him to stay.
He nodded. “Yes. I need to get to work. It’s going to be one of many trials.”