Thank God she was okay. He exhaled hard, but his relief was short-lived. A little dog he hadn’t noticed before jumped from her arms to the grass and bolted toward the burning building.
“No!” Sloane screamed, and started back to the flames.
No way could he let her run back inside, so he lunged for her at the same time she dived for the pooch, and they both hit the ground hard.
Awareness came to Sloane more quickly than she’d imagined possible. A hard body covered hers while the whining sounds of the dog came from under her. She didn’t trust the pooch not to dart back into the burning house, so she lifted an arm to let him breathe, while still holding on to his collar.
“Are you okay?” a masculine voice asked. A sexy, familiar masculine voice.
A shiver, having nothing to do with the ordeal, rushed through her. “I think I’m in one piece.”
She had aches and bruises she’d need to assess, but for now she was alive and breathing, while the house she was just inside burned in the distance.
Without warning, she was pulled to a sitting position and came face-to-face with Chase.
Her one-night stand.
Impossible, she thought. “The house isn’t burning and you aren’t real.” She was off balance and confused, a state not helped by the high-pitched sound of sirens wailing in the distance.
“Unfortunately, this isn’t some damn dream.”
No, that sexy voice and serious face were all too real.
“Let’s get farther away from the house.” Chase helped her to her feet.
One step, and pain seared through her. She’d obviously twisted her ankle during her blind run from the house. Limping, she let him lead her away from the blaze, not saying a word.
He was good at that, she remembered, doing all the right things to her without asking permission. Despite the bruises and the adrenaline still pumping through her veins, she still remembered his touch vividly. Erotically. So much so, that this next tremor had everything to do with the man pulling her to safety.
But there was a huge difference between seducing her body with his hands, lips, and tongue—during a night out of time—and real-life demands. She had to get control of herself and the situation, but since his order made sense, she wasn’t about to argue. She forced herself to walk on, ignoring the pain in her ankle that subsided by the time they reached an old willow tree.
She leaned against the cool bark and let herself slide to the ground. Chills racked her body and trembling kicked in. She wrapped her arms around herself, but the shaking grew worse. “So much for control,” she muttered.
Chase shot her a sideways, curious glance, but she wasn’t up to any kind of explanation.
“I need your belt.” Without asking, he unhooked her buckle and pulled the leather belt from the loops of her jeans.
She glanced down at his strong, competent hands. “I hardly think now’s the time or place for a quickie,” she said through chattering teeth. “And besides, I didn’t know you were into bondage.”
He paused, glanced up, and laughed.
The sexy light that she remembered in his eyes had returned.
“I knew you’d have a good sense of humor out of the bedroom,” Chase said, then refocused on his task. He had to get the dog taken care of and out of the way. “Trust me,” he told Sloane. “Fooling around’s the last thing I have in mind.”
Fooling around was exactly what he wanted to do. With Sloane, now, beneath the shade of the old tree. Unfortunately, he didn’t have that luxury. Quickly he finished looping the belt to a short, stubby bush near the tree, secured it, then managed to tie the old bandanna that had been used for the dog’s collar to the belt buckle. “There. He’s not going anywhere and he’s safe.”
She glanced down at the dog, who stared daggers at Chase for tying him up. Then Sloane met his gaze once more. “I’m impressed. I thought only Boy Scouts could tie knots like that.
He met her liquid gaze. A combination of surprise, fear, confusion, as well as a hint of remembrance, flickered across her face.
At least that was how he read her expression. “You of all people should know I’m no Boy Scout.”
“I don’t know anything about you. Except that you picked me up in a bar in D.C. and followed me here.”
“You’ve got it wrong, but I don’t have time to explain.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed and spoke to his brother Rick. The fire department might have pulled up to the house and the police wouldn’t be far behind, but Chase wanted his cop brother here now, apprised of who Sloane was and taking care of this mess.
He inhaled and glanced her way. Right now she was too stunned to ask how he’d found her and why, but she would. Soon. He knew this because he had questions too. Like why she’d been in that old house to begin with. Why would she search out an old eccentric like Samson?
He took in her shivering form and realized how close she’d come to dying. How close he’d come to losing her. Without thinking, he pulled her into his arms to give her warmth. When his lips touched hers, he knew that once again he had lied. He wanted her.
She tasted familiar. Sweet, welcoming, and all too eager to lose herself in him the way he needed to immerse himself in her. His tongue made broad, greedy sweeps around her mouth and she reciprocated with a soft moan, then tangled her tongue with his.
His body heated instantly and his surroundings disappeared. Everything came down to this one moment with this one woman.
He threaded his hands through her hair, pulling her close at the same time he heard a deliberate cough. “Excuse me, but did someone call the police?”
Sloane jumped out of Chase’s grasp and his surroundings returned.
Chase forced his gaze away from Sloane, who’d taken to kicking at the dirt on the ground. He met his middle brother’s curious stare. “Thanks for coming so quickly,” he said, and now that he’d come to his senses, he meant it.
“I’m part of Yorkshire Falls’ finest.” He grinned and tipped his head. “We aim to please.” He extended his hand toward Sloane. “Officer Rick Chandler,” he said, introducing himself.
She stopped grinding her toe in the dirt and looked up. “I’m Sloane—” She cut herself off. “I mean, I’m Faith. I . . .” She hesitated as if unsure which persona to use.
“Sloane Carlisle,” Chase supplied, and didn’t miss her shock upon realizing he knew her real identity. He had no option but the truth.
Rick needed to know about Sloane if he was going to help Chase figure out how to keep an eye on her while she was in Yorkshire Falls. And now that Samson’s house had blown up with her nearly in it, keeping a low profile would be even more difficult. Chase would do his best, starting with a news blackout on Sloane’s presence at the scene of the explosion.
His brother didn’t register any obvious recognition at hearing Sloane’s name, which wasn’t surprising. Even though he was covering Carlisle’s story, Chase hadn’t figured out her identity that night in the bar. The vice presidential candidate’s daughter wasn’t that much of a public figure. Yet.
Sloane breathed a sigh of relief, obviously coming to the same conclusion Chase just had. Then she planted her hands firmly on her hips and glared at Chase, something the dog took as a sign to begin his barking once more.
“How do you know who I really am?” she asked as she bent down to pick up the mutt and calm him down with smooth pets over his head. “Come to think of it, why did you follow me all the way from D.C.?”
Confusion and shock crossed her features, and he realized he was really seeing her for the first time. Smudges of dirt stained her cheeks from their fall to the ground.
“It just so happens I live here.” Not much of an explanation, but then he didn’t know how much detail to give just yet.
“You live here. In that inferno?” She pointed toward Samson’s old home, or what was left of it.
“I live in Yorkshire Falls.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustration filling him. He wanted
to explain, but he needed answers from her.
Rick remained suspiciously silent, while Sloane shifted the dog to her other hip and narrowed her gaze, studying Chase. “You being from Yorkshire Falls is quite a coincidence, and one that doesn’t explain how you found me at this house.”
He glanced over his shoulder, gratified to see the fire department had surrounded the place and hopefully would have things under control soon.
He wished he’d have this situation with Sloane under control nearly as fast. Turning back to her, he said, “It’s a small town. No one can go anywhere without someone passing along the news. And a new face is definitely news.”
“Especially such a pretty one.” Rick spoke at last. He stood, hands on his hips, a wry grin on his face. “I hate to interrupt this very interesting conversation, especially when you two seem to have a lot to catch up on. But in case you haven’t noticed, there’s a fire going on over there, and Chase told me on the phone that you witnessed the start.”
A group of firemen and the large chief of police headed toward them, causing Sloane to back up, her fear obvious.
“I’m going to need some answers,” Rick said.
Chase nodded. “I agree.”
She started pulling at the dog’s collar, trying to detach him from the tree. “I can’t talk here,” she said, working at the knot. “I can’t. . . We need to go somewhere private, okay?” She glanced up from her kneeling position and focused pleading eyes on Chase.
She seemed on edge, still in shock. Damned if he didn’t plan on taking care of her and not because Madeline Carlisle had asked. He squeezed her shoulder in the only gesture of reassurance he could offer.
Rick pulled out his notepad. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to need answers before you go anywhere,” he said to Sloane.
Chase caught the dismay on her face at Rick’s insistence. She wasn’t ready to answer prying questions here. Chase weighed his brother’s dedication to his job against his loyalty to family. Nothing ran stronger or deeper than Chandler family duty. He hated taking his brother’s loyalties for granted, but another glance at Sloane and he knew he would do it anyway.
He grabbed Sloane’s hand. “We’re leaving. Rick, you can come by my place and she’ll talk to you later.” His tone brooked no argument.
When Rick snapped shut his pad and slid it back into his pocket, Chase let out a slow exhale. For the first time ever, Chase Chandler had chosen a woman over family.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sloane eased back into a comfortable recliner chair in Chase’s living room of his old but well-kept Victorian house. It felt strange to be here with him now after she’d never expected to see him again.
The downstairs of his house held the Yorkshire Falls Gazette offices, while upstairs was his private domain. She looked around his home as a woman, not a decorator, seeing the private lair of the man with whom she’d slept. Despite its dark wood and lack of frills, she couldn’t miss the homey touches: the Oriental rugs over the hardwood floors, the pictures of family that were placed in a way that highlighted their importance to him, and the clutter so typical of a man living alone.
And he was very much a man. As he stood talking to his brother by the window, she sensed his contained energy, the same energy he’d used when he’d made love to her. Sloane studied him now and realized her memory had failed her. He was even better-looking than she’d remembered. And as he gestured around, his grass-stained jeans stretched tight over his incredible behind.
She shivered and this time shock wasn’t the reason. Lord, the things the man did to her with a single glance. When he’d dived on top of her earlier, she’d recognized his familiar scent, and despite the danger, she’d become instantly aroused. They had an already-established connection, one that made this whole scene even more surreal. How had they come to meet up again? She’d given Officer Rick Chandler answers, but she had yet to receive some from Chase.
She stretched out her feet and her pummeled body felt the pain inflicted when she’d thrown herself to the ground to save Dog. That, she’d learned, was Samson’s pet’s name. The name was yet another sad commentary on the life this man named Samson lived. At least the fire department had confirmed that no one was in the home at the time of the explosion, relieving her fears about Samson being hurt, or worse.
After leaving the scene, she and Chase had dropped Dog at Dr. Sterling’s, the town vet, so he could be checked out and cared for until Samson returned. No one had addressed the issue of what would happen to Dog if Samson failed to come home. Sloane shivered and wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the chill.
“Are you okay?” Chase walked over and laid a hand on the cushion behind her head, so close to touching her she automatically became distracted.
“Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be? Houses blow up around me every day.” She let out a shrill laugh, knowing she was still on the edge of hysteria despite the fact that a good two hours had passed since the explosion.
Rick strode to her side, but Chase placed himself between Sloane and his brother. “She’s had enough, Rick. Give her the night to rest and I can bring her by the station in the morning to sign any official statement.”
He acted as a protective barrier between her and the police and she appreciated his chivalry. But no matter how tight she was strung, she could deal with Rick and answer whatever questions Yorkshire Falls’ finest had. After all, she was Senator Michael Carlisle’s daughter, or at least he’d raised her. And one lesson her parents had taught her: The more forthcoming she was, the less she evaded, the more satisfied her interviewer would be.
“If the officer has more questions, I’m more than happy to answer them,” she said, glancing around Chase so she could see Rick.
He shot her an appreciative glance and she really saw him for the first time. Although both Rick and Chase were good-looking men, the similarities ended there. With chocolate brown hair and hazel eyes, Rick would attract any female’s attention. But Chase, with his intense expression, incredible blue eyes, and that inky hair—he was the one she found all too sexy.
“Well?” Chase asked his brother, arms folded over his chest.
To her surprise, Rick shook his head at her offer to talk some more. “I think I have enough. For now.” He shoved his pad into his pocket and stepped to the side so he had an unobstructed view of her. “I just want to clarify one thing, if it’s okay with you?”
She curled her legs beneath her, ignoring the protest of her aching muscles. A hot bath would be heaven right now. “You said you came to Yorkshire Falls to visit your birth mother’s hometown?” Rick asked.
“That’s right.” She chewed on her lower lip, hating the fabrication she’d woven for the officer, but knowing she had no choice. “I wanted to visit some of her old friends and stomping grounds.”
“And Samson was an old friend?”
Here Sloane tread lightly. “My stepmother mentioned him briefly as someone who’d made an impact in Jacqueline’s life. He seemed worth looking up.” She raised her gaze and tried for her most honest look. As someone who’d snuck out a time or two past curfew, she’d perfected the expression.
“Which is how she came to Samson’s old house,” Chase concluded. “Case closed, Rick. Time for you to go.” He slapped his brother on the back as a blatant excuse to prod him toward the door.
Rick tipped his head toward her. “Talk to you tomorrow, Sloane.”
“Is that a polite expression for don’t leave town?” she asked wryly.
“Yes, ma’am.” He shot her a boyish grin and she wondered how many hearts he’d broken on the road to matrimony. She’d caught sight of the ring on his left hand, telling her some lucky woman had snagged the good-looking cop.
Which made her wonder about Chase. Was he involved with anyone prior to their interlude? Someone he’d continue to see now? She was surprised at how badly the thought bothered her.
As Chase escorted his brother to the door, Rick didn’t seem insulted. Base
d on the rest of the interaction she’d witnessed between the men, there was a genuine caring that underscored everything they said or did. A family bond. One Sloane could well understand, since she shared the same connection with her parents and sisters. She had no idea what kind of reception she’d find with her one family member here in Yorkshire Falls, and she shivered at the thought.
How long before she’d find out? Sloane wondered. She’d failed in her mission to find Samson, and in lying to Rick and Chase about why she was here, she’d probably made her search more difficult. These men just might be able to help her locate Samson. Diffuse whatever threat Michael’s men posed.
But to be truthful with them would entail a level of trust she didn’t yet possess. Not for the police officer or the journalist. Rick’s profession made him a wild card, and Chase was an enigma who could blow this story wide open.
She yawned, exhaustion threatening to overwhelm her. She couldn’t believe what she’d been through in the past couple of hours, but after being forced by Rick Chandler to relive the explosion, she was certain it hadn’t been a bad dream.
The door slammed shut and Chase reentered the room, his gaze keenly centered on hers. “We’re alone. Now tell me the real reason you’re searching for Samson, because I don’t believe that cock-and-bull story you told my brother.”
Sloane swallowed hard, gripping the fabric on the sofa with her hands. She hadn’t expected him to see through her charade. “I already told you. Twice, as I recall.”
He stalked toward her, braced his hands on the arm of her chair and leaned down so their faces were millimeters apart. She already knew what those lips tasted like. Her heartbeat sped up, and if he promised her a kiss, she’d probably cave into his demand for her to talk.
“I don’t buy your excuse, honey. During that night we spent together, you told me other things too. Personal, intimate things.”
“Such as?” Because at this moment, she could barely remember her own name. She licked her dry lips, gratified when his eyes followed the movement and dilated with desire. At least she wasn’t the only one teetering on the brink of sanity.
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