Taking a Chance on Love

by Iris Morland

  How could she hate someone when he’d gone out of his way to help her?

  Thea had wanted to hate him. He was arrogant; he’d tried to get her thrown out of the cabin without so much as discussing it with her. He’d mocked her, and he’d run roughshod over her. He was the type of person she despised, not to mention that he was the CEO of a company whose standards she believed to be completely immoral.

  Bertram, Sons, and Co. represented a cruelty that Thea could never support. It was all about earning money—more money than any one person could ever need—without caring in the least who or what it hurt in the process.

  And yet, could a man with no heart rescue a rabbit like that? Thea didn’t think so. She thought again of his face when she’d called him heartless. Had she actually hurt him by saying that? She couldn’t believe it.

  She’d seen a side of Anthony Bertram that she had believed didn’t exist, and oddly enough, that was more terrifying than his anger or his selfishness. Because if Anthony was human—if he had a heart—then Thea couldn’t tell herself that her actions wouldn’t hurt him.

  Thea could destroy a monster without guilt.

  But what if Anthony wasn’t the monster she thought he was?

  That evening, Anthony felt like some kind of caged animal. He was overly aware of Thea’s every move: when he heard her open her bedroom door, he came to attention, listening. He even heard her singing as she made herself dinner, which annoyed him greatly.

  Why did she have to captivate him thoroughly? She wasn’t his type. She was a bleeding heart, and she’d almost gotten herself killed for a rabbit. Who did that? People without any brain cells did that.

  And since he’d ended up being the one to save the stupid rabbit, he clearly had the least brain cells of them both.

  That afternoon, he’d focused on work, taking calls from his team about their strategy going forward. Bruce was still angry—no surprise there—but he’d left Anthony alone since that initial phone call.

  Anthony had also spoken to the editor-in-chief at Society and chewed him out so thoroughly that he’d probably pissed himself. He’d also assured Anthony that they would write a retraction and an updated version of the article after Anthony had told him exactly how he’d sue him, his family, and the company he worked for. Given Anthony’s team of lawyers that had gone after other people and had bled them dry for lesser offenses, the editor-in-chief hadn’t been stupid enough to call Anthony’s bluff.

  But all of that had left Anthony drained and exhausted. He’d come to the cabin because he’d refused to show weakness to Bruce and the board, and he’d refused to give in to Bruce’s demands. Now, though, he almost wished he’d stayed in Seattle.

  At least there, he wouldn’t have to be around Thea Younger.

  He groaned as he remembered how she’d felt when he’d grabbed her from the bridge.

  He needed to stop touching her, dammit. But he couldn’t stop thinking about the warmth of her body, how it was both willowy but strong. Her lemon scent captivated him. She was so short that the top of her head only reached his chin. Yet despite her small stature, she never cowered. There was bravery in her that he’d never seen in a woman. And God Almighty, he wanted to capture it for himself.

  Anthony also didn’t want to think about the fear that had stopped his heart when he’d seen her stepping onto the damn bridge. Terror like he had never known had frozen him in his tracks. If he’d been a second too late…if he hadn’t been out walking at the same time as her…

  It didn’t bear thinking about.

  Anthony rubbed his temples. Her words to him, that he was heartless, had clearly gotten under his skin more than he’d thought. Normally he would’ve laughed off something like that—he’d heard worse from his own family and from Elise.

  Like some kind of bizarre penance, he pulled out the folded-up photo of him and Elise on their honeymoon from his wallet. He didn’t keep the photo out of sentimentality; all his feelings for her had dissipated the moment he’d found her in bed with Ryan. No, he kept the photo as a reminder of what happened when he let himself be weak.

  Anthony had met Elise two years after he’d started his company, at some charity event where he’d been cozying up to potential investors. Elise had been the most beautiful woman there, and when he’d seen her, he’d known she was his.

  Elise Edgerton, the daughter of a senator father and a model mother, had never worked a day in her life. As a socialite and party girl, she’d preferred to spend her time shopping, getting her hair done, and going to parties. Despite her seemingly frivolous ways, Anthony had instantly recognized that Elise was savvy and just as interested in making a mark on society as he was.

  That first time he’d seen her, he’d watched her look bored as some old politician had droned on and on. Picking up a glass of champagne from a tray, Anthony had pushed his way through the circle, touching Elise’s arm like they’d known each other for ages.

  “Sorry for the delay. They had to bring up more bottles of champagne from the kitchen, apparently.” Anthony handed the glass to Elise.

  She took it, an amused expression on her face at his audacity. “I was wondering where you were,” she replied, her voice sardonic.

  “Anthony Bertram,” said Anthony as he shook the old senator’s hand. Turning back to Elise, he added, “Let me show you that painting I was speaking to you about earlier.”

  She smiled, made her excuses to the senator, and took his arm. When they were out of earshot, she said, “Do I know you?”

  “No, but you will.”

  “Aren’t you a slick one?” Elise sipped her champagne, her red lipstick making a print on the rim of the glass. With her honey-blond hair in loose ringlets down her back, her dress simple and black but with an open back, she looked like a siren. She practically dripped with diamonds, and with every movement, she sparkled.

  “Not slick,” countered Anthony, “just determined.”

  “For what?”

  As they reached an alcove that offered some amount of privacy, he whispered into her ear, “To have you in my bed.”

  Elise tittered with laughter. She pushed him away, although it was with a light touch. She let him squire her around for the rest of the party, and Anthony was certain she would return home with him.

  But when they went outside, she said, “Call me when you’ve made it. I don’t sleep with nobodies.” She handed him her card, smiled like the siren she was, and slipped into the back of a limo.

  Anthony’s company was up-and-coming then, but he still wasn’t making a profit. He ate ramen noodles; he lived in a dump in the suburbs of Seattle. He barely slept, because all he did was work. Going to this event tonight—and renting a tux—had almost not happened simply from lack of funds.

  Anthony had vowed that night that he wouldn’t give up. He would have Elise for his own, and he’d be one of the richest and most powerful men in the country. Then the world. The next time he saw Elise Edgerton, she would be his.

  Anthony touched Elise’s smiling face in the photograph. After Bertram, Sons, and Co. had exploded, Elise had definitely noticed him. He’d transformed into a somebody. When he’d called her up to remind her of her promise, she’d laughed and said she’d wondered when he’d come to collect.

  They’d gotten engaged after dating briefly, their wedding the biggest event of the season. And on their honeymoon in Tahiti, he’d been the happiest he’d ever been. He’d thought Elise had felt the same.

  He’d fallen in love, and he’d paid for it. He’d vowed to love and to cherish forever, but apparently, Elise hadn’t. She’d cheated on him with his best friend and vice president only six years after they’d married.

  He folded the photo back up, scowling. He needed to remember what happened when he let his guard down. Letting Thea in would be disastrous.

  That evening, he stayed in his room. He hadn’t seen Thea since bringing her the box for the rabbit. He assumed she was watching over the animal. He wondered if it would surv
ive. He hoped it would, because the last thing he needed was Thea crying and moping the rest of the time they were stuck here together.

  Admit it, you care about her. You want to show her that you aren’t heartless.

  Maybe he did; maybe he had something prove. So what? He’d done his one good deed for the year. He didn’t need to repeat it.

  He heard the bathroom door open before the water began running. Realizing she was taking a bath, his mind immediately filled with lurid images.

  What would Thea look like naked? He wondered what color her nipples were, if she had freckles on any other parts of her besides the few that were sprinkled across her nose. Mostly he thought about her being wet and slick from her bath, her skin pink, how she’d smell womanly and sweet afterward.

  His cock hardened, and he growled in annoyance. He didn’t need this right now. Pushing the thoughts aside, he concentrated on important matters at hand. Not on his obnoxious roommate, no matter how much he’d like to see her naked.

  An hour later, Anthony got up to go downstairs for a beer, only to run into Thea as she was leaving the bathroom. She had a towel wrapped around her, the ends of her short hair slightly curled from the steam. Her skin was pink, just like he’d imagined, and to his immense amusement, she blushed even pinker as he raked her with a seductive gaze.

  She was about to scamper away when he asked, “How’s the rabbit?”

  “The rabbit?” She blinked. “Oh, um, it’s fine. It drank some water, which is good.”

  Anthony didn’t give a damn about the rabbit, not when he could take in Thea standing in front of him, barely clothed. Her toes were curled under her into the rug, her calves shapely. Her towel barely reached to midthigh, allowing him to see how pale her skin was.

  His gaze continued to skim up her body, where she held the towel closed right above her breasts. Her chest rose and fell, only accentuating her cleavage. Her breasts were small, but he had a feeling they were the perfect size to fit in his mouth.

  “Good,” he said, barely hearing what she’d said.

  A few bubbles remained on her neck from her bath. Unable to resist temptation, he reached out and brushed the bubbles away with a soft touch.

  Her eyes widened. She didn’t say anything, but her eyes said it all. Her breathing quickened, filling Anthony with triumph. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  “You missed a spot,” he murmured.

  She licked her lips. Then she met his gaze, her pupils large, her cheeks flushed. Anthony knew enough about women—about seduction—to know when they wanted him. And Thea was giving him all the signals, down to the way her feet were pointed toward him and how she kept touching the ends of her hair and twisting a strand around her finger.

  He couldn’t help but brush fingers down the slope of her shoulder. She hitched in a breath.

  He wanted to kiss her. No, he needed to kiss her.

  And Anthony wasn’t going to stop himself from getting what he needed.

  Inhaling the scent of lemons, he tilted her chin back and kissed her.

  Thea gasped. He wondered if she’d bolt. He kissed her softly, letting her make her choice. Finally, she moaned and twined her arms around him. Thank God.

  The moment their mouths had touched, it was like something inside Anthony shattered. He groaned, deepening the kiss, slicking his tongue against hers. He wrapped an arm around her. Her body, pressed against him, only added gasoline to the fire.

  His hand wandered down her back until he could squeeze her ass. She shuddered. She moaned again.

  But soon she was shaking her head, pushing him away.

  “No, I can’t,” she said, her voice breathless. She pushed at him again, and although it almost physically hurt to do so, he let go.

  Thea touched her lips, her fingers trembling, before muttering, “I’m sorry.” She practically sprinted back to her room.

  When Anthony heard her lock her door, he flinched.

  9

  Thea couldn’t stop trembling. It wasn’t the cold, considering she’d left her room so warm for the rabbit. And it wasn’t even because she wore only a towel.

  It was because she’d never been kissed like that. No man had ever kissed her like he would consume her very soul. Anthony had kissed her and, in the process, had imprinted himself upon her like a brand.

  She touched her kiss-bruised lips. It wasn’t like she was some innocent virgin. She’d had boyfriends, although she hadn’t dated much in the last few years, mostly because Fair Haven wasn’t great for dating. She’d lost her virginity in high school to her first boyfriend, and she’d enjoyed sex with different men in her early twenties.

  But this wasn’t about sex. Not really. Oh, Anthony definitely wanted her—she wasn’t stupid enough to think otherwise. But that kiss—it had obliterated all of her good intentions, all of the warnings she’d given herself about Anthony.

  He wasn’t a good man. She knew that. She could list every reason why he was a terrible, terrible choice for her. She could write a damn dissertation on the subject! And she’d been behind the social media campaign to take down his company. If he ever found out who she really was, he would never forgive her.

  Yet he’d saved that rabbit to help her. So who was the real Anthony? Thea didn’t know anymore.

  Thea got dressed in her pajamas and sat on the floor next to the rabbit. She still needed to name it. She smiled when she saw that it was delicately nibbling on some lettuce, only to dart back into its towel burrow when it spotted her. At least it was feeling well enough to act more like a wild animal. That was a relief.

  “I know I’m not keeping you as a pet,” she said to the rabbit, “but calling you ‘the rabbit’ is awkward. You need a good name. I also have no idea if you’re a boy or a girl.” She rubbed her chin, thinking.

  The rabbit wiggled its nose, and right in front of Thea, it grabbed the edge of the last bit of lettuce and pulled it into its burrow. That made her laugh.

  “I’m calling you Sneaky,” she declared as she tore up some more lettuce and placed it in the box. “Sneaky the rabbit, who steals lettuce right from under your nose if you aren’t careful. I’m also going to think of you as a boy, which I’m sure matters greatly to you.”

  Sneaky just munched on his lettuce, not the least bit perturbed by his new name or supposed gender.

  Thea’s phone rang, and she grimaced when she saw that Mittens was calling. He’d been texting her nonstop for days, and she’d only replied a few times. The fact that he was calling a second time today? Not good.

  “Are you dead?” were Mittens’s first words when she finally answered.

  “Considering I just answered my phone, no.”

  “Then why are you ignoring me?”

  That was a good question, to which she had no answer. Because I don’t know if I want to go through with getting dirt on Anthony. Because he kissed me like no other man has ever kissed me. Because I’m losing my damn mind.

  “I’ve been busy,” she hedged.

  “Busy. When you’re stuck in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. I’m hoping you got some good intel on Bertram if you’ve been so busy.”

  Thea had done some research on Anthony’s ex-wife, Elise Edgerton, who was now remarried and called Elise Weaver. She had looked at photos of the couple and read articles from when they’d gotten divorced. No one had known why they’d suddenly split. One day they were photographed at dinner, looking as cozy as ever. The next, Anthony had filed for divorce, citing irreconcilable differences.

  Thea was sure that he’d gotten Elise to sign an ironclad nondisclosure agreement along with the settlement Elise must’ve received. None of that, however, was a part of the public record.

  Thea wondered what could’ve happened between them. Had someone cheated? Or had Elise wanted to end things because she’d fallen out of love with Anthony? Or vice versa?

  “I saw the Society article they did on the company,” said Mittens. “I’m sure he was pissed about that. Did you see it?
It was not flattering at all.” Mittens sounded gleeful.

  Thea pulled up the article in question and scanned it. She grimaced as she read it. No, it wasn’t flattering in the least.

  “No wonder he’s been such an asshole lately,” she said, sighing. “He’s like a baited bear most days.”

  “Which proves our point. He’s an asshole, just like you said. Think of the rabbits, Thea. The rats, the dogs. All the animals that suffer for his wallet.” With each word, Mittens’s voice rose. “We’re doing something important, something that will make a difference. Although why I’m the one saying this when it was your idea, I don’t know.”

  Thea glanced over at Sneaky, her heart pinching in dismay. The thought of doing experiments on Sneaky was heartbreaking. He might just be a rabbit, but he was also a living, breathing creature that had a mind of its own. Shouldn’t that be respected and cherished, when the world always seemed such an unfeeling place?

  Thea replied, “No, I know. I’m trying to find some information, but he doesn’t leave his room much. The rain only just stopped, although it’s so muddy it’s not great for wandering around outside, so he’s in the cabin most of the time.” She decided not to mention the bit about finding that photo of him and Elise. It wasn’t like it revealed anything new, anyway—right?

  “Don’t give up. You’ll find something. I believe in you.” Mittens let out a sigh. “When are you coming back? I know you said two weeks, but it’s been so boring here. I need my drinking buddy back.”

  “Just another week, hopefully. Although with the bridge out, it could be longer.”

  Mittens groaned. “Please don’t tell me that. I’ll get a helicopter to come save you. Or a jet. A hot-air balloon? Whatever. But not until you get something on this guy. Do it for the bunnies, Thea. Do it for them.”