Aria chewed on her lip.
“Answer me, Aria.”
“I...I don’t know.”
Again, another reason for him to be glad he hadn’t waited. When it came to her, he realized he needed absolutes, not maybes. “You will go on this date with me, Aria. We will have dinner, and talk. I am asking for no more than that, nor do I plan to force you in any way to give me more.”
A frustrated exhale left her lips. Her eyes rolled upwards and locked with the ceiling for a second before she started pacing. “This is the most asinine situation.”
He didn’t bother disagreeing.
“What the hell could you get out of us ‘just having dinner’?” She came to a halt, spinning to face him. Exasperation was written all over her face. Her dark hair was a mess tumbling down her shoulders.
Chase crossed his arms. It was his way of restraining himself. A reminder to his body that he couldn’t walk up to her and take that beautiful face into his hands. “I already told you what I get out of it: time with you.”
“You know, that would actually sound romantic if we weren’t in this messed up situation.”
The hard, unwavering stare she leveled him with had him running his hand across his neck.
She just continued on, staring at him.
He ran his hand across his short, close-cropped hair next.
Fuck. Was he nervous?
She remained still, eyes on him, her lashes fanning in front of her eyes with each blink. “I still don’t believe you.”
Chase straightened off his desk, lips parting, surprised.
Aria held up a hand, putting a halt to whatever he’d been about to say. “Douglas worked in your non-profit sector.” She stopped there, an angry expression flickering across her face.
So she understood. She understood damn well that her husband had been pocketing money that had been raised for many causes, most of which involved children’s hospitals.
“He stole money meant for...for…” She swallowed hard. “And he used it to...to do things...he…”
There it was. A crack. A momentary lapse in her facade. The chink in her strong armor. A glimpse that lasted less than a second. Then, it was gone, lost behind her hands as she rubbed her face. By the time she lowered her hands, only the frustration remained visible.
But he’d seen enough to know she wasn’t dealing with the reality of who her husband was.
She was disgusted by it.
Her chest rose and fell with a deep breath. “He does all that and you claim he won’t go to jail if I go on this date with you. Hundreds of thousands of dollars, if not millions. And all you ask in return for his freedom is a simple date. Again, Mr. Blaine, I do not believe that’s all you want.”
For a second, he was taken aback by her shrewd expression. “A date with you isn’t all I want. It’s the one thing I demand in return for his freedom.” The most expensive date of his life by far considering how much Douglas had stolen. “But the only thing I want? No. Definitely not.”
His eyes caressed the stubborn set of her jaw. It was out of his control; he couldn’t help it. He’d met so many agreeable women in his life. Most of them had been so willing to do whatever he’d asked, just to please him.
But not her. She wasn’t intimidated by his personality, and she wasn’t interested in his money. Aria was in his office, arguing with him, despite the fact that she was scared of him. Of what he wanted.
Despite what Douglas had done to her, she was determined to help the bastard avoid jail time.
Chase didn’t allow himself to analyze her reasons behind that last one. She crossed her arms, he did the same, and they stood there for what seemed like forever, looking at each other.
Finally, with a shake of her head, Aria broke the silence. “Your word should mean nothing to me, but I want you to give it to me. Swear to me that after I go on this date, and only on this date, you will leave Douglas alone.”
CHASE HAD GIVEN HER his word. He’d done so because he had every intention of doing as he’d promised. One date. Just a few short hours in his company and her husband would be left alone.
Aria stormed out of his office right after, without a word. They hadn’t even discussed when and where their date was going to take place. Chase knew how to reach her and she knew where to find him. He wasn’t worried.
The look on her face when she’d left, now that worried him.
Since when did he do worried?
Since he’d met her, apparently.
More than once over the last few days, Chase had to stop himself from picking up the phone and calling her to cancel the whole thing. He couldn’t forget the way she’d stared at him before leaving. The helplessness and anger in her stare. What seemed to be betrayal, blazed out of her eyes—an accusation that burned.
For the first time in a long while, he was dealing with guilt. He fucking hated it. Hated what it was trying to convince him to do. If he canceled his date with Aria, he would never have a chance to spend even that little bit of time with her.
It was all he was going to get. He knew that now. The more he thought about the way she’d looked at him, the more convinced he became: she was never going to forgive him for blackmailing her.
Chase wished she didn’t have the effect she had on him. Then he wouldn’t care.
About her.
About anything.
Bullshit. The fact that she had the power to make him care about things was what had him so damned hooked. The woman was a novelty in every sense he could think of. The amount of lust she pulled out of him was ridiculous.
But lust he knew. It was something he understood. The lust he felt might have been unprecedented—at least as far back as he could remember—but it was still within the realm of familiarity.
The memory of how her large blue eyes looked was all it took for his predicament to become clear. Indeed, the issue wasn’t that he felt lust when he thought of her—it was that he was feeling a host of other shit he couldn’t make sense of.
He had no clue on how to analyze what he was going through. The emotions were out of reach. No matter how much he tried to focus on them, they were like blurry images right in front of his face. He knew they were there, but no matter how hard he squinted, he couldn’t begin to make sense of the lines he saw behind the fog.
Chase knew what his therapist would say to that. He hadn’t felt or recognized any form of emotion besides lust in years. He’d been six the last time he’d felt anything.
He remembered the connection he’d had with his mother. The hugs and kisses that made him happy. He’d been addicted to them, always running back to her for more. “A momma’s boy” as his father sneered so many times.
Chase also remembered looking up to his father. Being desperate for his attention—his approval. More than anything, Chase remembered feeling wrong for even wanting his father to care about him. After all, even at the age of five, he’d known deep down what a piece of crap his father was.
Then, the man had taken Chase’s mother from him. Experiencing it , and witnessing it , had been bad enough. The fact that money and influence had helped that man get away with taking her life…
Chase remembered the explosion of rage that had wracked his small body after getting the news. It was within that same hour that his six-year old brain shut down. One moment , he’d been crying, screaming, and breaking everything in his room while his nanny tried to calm him down. The next, he was numb, eyes dry, sitting on his bed and staring unblinking at the walls of his room.
Since that day he’d been cold. A shell. The fact that he’d grown up and done everything in his power to ruin the man responsible—taking his father’s empire out from under him , and making it his own—had not been a matter of Chase hungering for vengeance.
In order for him to crave vengeance, he’d have to have felt some form of hate for the man. Chase didn’t. Destroying his father’s life had been all about logic. A matter of justice, really. The laws of cause and effect dicta
ted that if one took a life, one should pay for it in some way.
The justice system, as flawed as it was, failed to uphold that tenet. It made sense to make his father pay in some way. When he’d found out that Douglas Colton had been stealing from his company, there hadn’t been any real anger, either. Just the logical conclusion that the man must pay.
And the payment in this case would be the sweetest.
When Aria barged into that living room, she’d presented the best opportunity to make that happen. At least, that was the initial thought going through Chase’s head. The reality was much more complicated than that. After all, throwing a weak, pathetic man like Douglas into jail would be vengeance enough.
No, it had been all about the feeling. One glimpse of her, and all his logic had been stripped from him, as if it were his own skin being peeled off.
Shifting in his seat, he leaned his elbow on the windows ledge. The world outside that window passed by, but not because the car was moving. They were covering a few inches every other minute, thanks to the traffic they were stuck in.
He was going to be late to his meeting.
Fuck it. He dialed his secretary. “Cynthia, cancel my two o’ clock. I won’t be making it on time.” He waited long enough to get her confirmation, then hung up the phone. Leaning back in his seat, he turned to stare back out the window—
Aria. Just like that, he shot straight in his seat, heart speeding up until the pounding was all he could hear and feel. For a second, he doubted it was her, but another glimpse confirmed it. She was standing in front of a minivan parked at the curb, talking to a young teenage boy.
Chase spared a second to let his driver know that he would be taking the rest of the day off. Then he was out of the car, weaving his way through the stalled traffic, his eyes locked on Aria.
“Ms. Aria, please let me get that for you.”
Aria stopped and turned to Josh with a mock glare. “Do I look like a weakling to you?”
Despite the fact that she was just joking with him, the boy turned beat red and ducked his head in embarrassment. “No, ma’am. But mom always says that I shouldn’t let a lady do the heavy lifting.”
That kid could melt an iceberg. He really could. Aria felt bad for the ladies once he got older. He probably had a bunch of his fellow teenage girls crushing over him hard.
Smiling, she stepped closer to him and ruffled his black hair. She had to reach up to do so , since he’d shot three inches above her in the last few months. Josh, of course, turned a few shades redder at her touch. “That’s sweet of you, kiddo. And very gallant.” His brown eyes rolled upward, and she had no doubt he was trying to remember the meaning of the word “gallant.” Smiling wider, Aria turned back to the minivan. “Gentlemanly,” she explained with a wink.
Any redder and he was going to turn purple.
Laughing, she shoo’ed him away. “I’ve got this, Josh. Go on inside , . I’m sure Raquel ’ i s going to need your help in the kitchen any minute now.”
However, once he was back inside and Aria had her arms around the huge box of canned soup, she realized that she just might have overestimated her strength. The box was larger than she could wrap her arms around, and when she slid it to the very edge of the trunk, it almost fell out of her arms.
“Shit.” Aria braced her thigh under the box, using her leg to stop it from falling. She winced. The weight of the damned box was going to leave a bruise. She could feel it forming already. Cursing under her breath, she readjusted her arms, trying for a better grip.
Freaking hell, she wouldn't be able to carry it inside. She had to slide it back into the minivan, or else it was going to end up on the ground.
A pair of arms came around her at the same time the heat of a body hit her back. An unmistakable voice rasped in her ear, “Let me help you with that.”
No. God help her, no. She froze, staring unblinking into the minivan—trapped. Her chest was pressed against the box being slid back into the vehicle, and a hard, male body that she somehow recognized.
“There. I’ve got it. Just move over and I’ll lift it out for you.”
Move over. Move over. Her brain knew those words, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what it was that was being asked of her. The box was slid the rest of the way in. Her eyes fell to the large hand braced against it, mere inches from her own.
She needed air. Something closed around her throat, making it impossible for even a molecule of oxygen to get into her lungs. She swallowed, trying to dislodge whatever it was. Her brain was misfiring, sending heat signals through her veins, making her panic as she continued to fight for breath.
“Aria.”
That voice. So low, almost harsh. The way it wrapped around her name—warm breath hit her jaw when he moved his mouth closer to her ear. She gasped, the sound strained, feeling the heat and size of his body move closer to her.
Something brushed against the curve of her ass.
“You need to move Aria.”
Panting breaths slid along her jaw, gaining speed. The shock of feeling her nipples pinch tight made her gasp again.
“As much as I’m enjoying this, we’re in public.” His lips brushed the shell of her ear, a soft caress. The complete opposite of the harsh and demanding tone he used. “You need to move… because I sure as hell can’t.”
Moving his right arm was the opening he afforded her. For a moment, while pressed between the lip of the minivan’s trunk and his body, Aria entertained the idea of staying right where she was. She couldn’t breathe right, and yet, his scent still slide into her. It was musky, perfectly mixed with his cologne.
His breath was making her skin throb in a way she’d never felt before.
“Aria.”
This time, there was no denying that his tone had gone rough. His lips ghosted across her jaw, just close enough for her to feel how he breathed her in. Her name left him once more, a low, desperate sound that called forth an answering little moan from her.
They both tensed so hard that they bumped into each other. He hissed out a low curse. Aria’s brain scrambled to process the fact that the needy, feminine sound she’d just heard had come out of her.
The horror of what just happened was enough to smack some sense back into her. She shot away from him so fast that she ended up stumbling onto the sidewalk, almost losing her footing. She caught herself on the side of the minivan. Heart hammering, she tightened her hold on the edge of the minivan’s trunk, until pain was shooting through the nerves of her hand.
She looked up. At least four people were standing in front of the building’s main entrance. Surprise, surprise. Most of them were staring in her direction.
Damn him, what the hell was he doing there anyway? Facing him was as appealing as coming across a half-starved, rabid tiger. Just as scary, too. But Aria already allowed him to cause too many unwanted reactions in her. Giving into that fear was the last thing she needed to do.
Chase was where she’d left him, standing in front of the minivan with his hands braced against the box. He was staring straight ahead, a hard indecipherable look in those dark blue eyes. Every few seconds, the muscle in his jaw jumped, echoing the tension she saw in every line of his body.
The black suit he wore fit his form perfectly, highlighting his body.
Chase looked at her out of the corner of his eye, catching her just as she was in the middle of taking him in.
Aria snapped her eyes back up to his face, feeling her own grow hot. The hard expression he was sporting didn’t change.
But the way his eyes softened made it obvious that he’d caught her staring.
Kill me now.
She’d been pretty much drooling. God help her, admiring. She’d been ogling the man who’d blackmailed her into a date.
Again.
“What are you doing here?” She crossed her arms, glaring the hell out of him.
Instead of answering her, he lifted the box into his arms as if it weighed nothing. “Where
were you taking this?”
For a few seconds, all Aria could do was blink at Chase and take in the sight he made: The put-together business man, in his perfect suit, holding up a box full of canned soup and offering to carry it for her.
She hated her body. Hated her hormones. Hated her obvious weakness and its connection to her even weaker processors. She hated all of it for pointing out how tall he was, how his arms bulged inside that suit jacket, how his facial features were almost artistic in their masculine beauty—
“Aria? Where do you want this?”
What the hell was wrong with her? Was she so desperate that all she could do was think about how gorgeous he was? She should be able to tell him to go to hell and leave her alone. But he was offering her help right then. She couldn’t bring herself to be that much of a bitch, no matter how much he deserved it.
“Follow me.” She turned around, heading to the building’s service entry. It didn’t even occur to her that she’d left the back of the minivan open until they were at the door. She cursed under her breath, whirling around. “Hold on.”
His eyes were glued to her back as she jogged back to the car. She felt them. Secretly needed them. They were still locked on her when she turned back around and made her way back to him after locking the car.
She led him inside and toward the area set aside for the soup kitchen. “Um… in here.” She gestured at the door. It hadn’t crossed her mind that she’d been leading him–a rich CEO–into a soup kitchen, until they were right in front of that door.
Chase walked passed her, and faltered as soon as he was inside and took a look around. Aria watched him from the door. To his credit, he hesitated for just a second before looking at her over his shoulder. “Where do you want it?”
His face had gone expressionless again, so she had no clue as to what he was thinking.
Her response came out meek, shy all of a sudden. “Right there. I have to get everything ready.”
A Debt Repaid (1) Page 3
