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Authors: Lynn Raye Harris
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Off-limits.
“Sophie,” he said again, rougher this time. “We’re here.”
She pushed herself up and shoved a mass of silky hair from her face. Her gaze fastened on him, and she fumbled for the seat belt. “Great. Awesome.”
She got it undone and slid from the Tahoe, stumbling as she landed on the concrete pad of the carport. Chase caught her and steadied her. But not before those glorious breasts mashed up against his chest. He sucked in air, set her away from him, grabbed her jacket from the seat and his bag from the floor. Then he shut the door and herded her toward the steps leading up to the house.
“Get some rest,” Hawk called from the window he’d rolled down. “I’ll text in the morning before I come out.”
“Copy,” Chase said as he inserted the key into the lock. Hawk waited while he got the door open and punched in the code for the alarm. He turned and gave Hawk a thumbs-up, and the man powered up the window and backed slowly down the driveway.
“Come on,” he told Sophie.
She stepped inside and he closed the door behind her, securing it with a dead bolt and resetting the alarm. When he turned, she’d walked into the kitchen and stood there looking at the flowery wallpaper and worn cabinetry.
“Not up to your standards, princess?” He didn’t know why he said that, except she looked so out of place there, so shocked at the interior, and it angered him. Because he’d grown up in a house not much different from this one while she’d lived in a Hollywood house with an infinity pool overlooking the LA skyline.
She turned at the sound of his voice, her eyes wide as she wrapped her arms around her body and chafed her upper arms.
“What?” She sounded a bit distracted, and he felt a pinprick of annoyance.
He jerked his chin at the garish wallpaper. Yellow with white daises. Much like the curtains his mother had put up in their kitchen. “A little low-rent for you?”
Her mouth dropped open for a second. Then she closed it and straightened her spine until she seemed to look down at him even though she was much shorter than he was.
“For your information, I was thinking how glad I am to be in a house rather than a tree, and how awesome a shower will feel. But I was also wondering what’s in that refrigerator and hoping it’s something good.”
He refused to feel chastened. Instead, he went over and yanked open the refrigerator. It wasn’t packed, but it had food in it.
“Looks good to me,” he said. “But you’d better know how to cook because I don’t.” That wasn’t precisely true, but damn if he was cooking for her after everything else.
“I can fix a few things,” she said. “But I’m no Rachael Ray.”
He let the door close. “Why don’t you shower first and then come in here and figure out what you want?”
She chafed her arms again and he handed over her jacket. She took it and draped it over her shoulders. But she didn’t leave.
“Are we really safe here?”
Chase nodded. He wasn’t going to tell her that even the best preparations sometimes weren’t enough, but he was pretty confident they were today. Hawk didn’t do anything half-assed, and now he had the money—loads of money thanks to his pop-star wife—to have the best of everything, which included high-tech surveillance equipment and alarms.
“Yeah, we’ll be fine. Hawk knows what he’s doing.”
“Are you just telling me that to make me feel better?”
“Do you really want the answer to that question?”
She nodded, her hair shining in the overhead light, her expression wary and haunted. He wanted to go over and pull her into his arms, hug her tight. No way in hell would he give in to that urge though.
“Yeah, we’ll be fine,” he said. “Go take a shower and stop worrying.”
She looked at him for a long moment before she turned and melted into the darkness of the house.
Chase shoved a hand through his hair as his heart pumped faster than it should and his gut squeezed
“Sophie,” he said again, rougher this time. “We’re here.”
She pushed herself up and shoved a mass of silky hair from her face. Her gaze fastened on him, and she fumbled for the seat belt. “Great. Awesome.”
She got it undone and slid from the Tahoe, stumbling as she landed on the concrete pad of the carport. Chase caught her and steadied her. But not before those glorious breasts mashed up against his chest. He sucked in air, set her away from him, grabbed her jacket from the seat and his bag from the floor. Then he shut the door and herded her toward the steps leading up to the house.
“Get some rest,” Hawk called from the window he’d rolled down. “I’ll text in the morning before I come out.”
“Copy,” Chase said as he inserted the key into the lock. Hawk waited while he got the door open and punched in the code for the alarm. He turned and gave Hawk a thumbs-up, and the man powered up the window and backed slowly down the driveway.
“Come on,” he told Sophie.
She stepped inside and he closed the door behind her, securing it with a dead bolt and resetting the alarm. When he turned, she’d walked into the kitchen and stood there looking at the flowery wallpaper and worn cabinetry.
“Not up to your standards, princess?” He didn’t know why he said that, except she looked so out of place there, so shocked at the interior, and it angered him. Because he’d grown up in a house not much different from this one while she’d lived in a Hollywood house with an infinity pool overlooking the LA skyline.
She turned at the sound of his voice, her eyes wide as she wrapped her arms around her body and chafed her upper arms.
“What?” She sounded a bit distracted, and he felt a pinprick of annoyance.
He jerked his chin at the garish wallpaper. Yellow with white daises. Much like the curtains his mother had put up in their kitchen. “A little low-rent for you?”
Her mouth dropped open for a second. Then she closed it and straightened her spine until she seemed to look down at him even though she was much shorter than he was.
“For your information, I was thinking how glad I am to be in a house rather than a tree, and how awesome a shower will feel. But I was also wondering what’s in that refrigerator and hoping it’s something good.”
He refused to feel chastened. Instead, he went over and yanked open the refrigerator. It wasn’t packed, but it had food in it.
“Looks good to me,” he said. “But you’d better know how to cook because I don’t.” That wasn’t precisely true, but damn if he was cooking for her after everything else.
“I can fix a few things,” she said. “But I’m no Rachael Ray.”
He let the door close. “Why don’t you shower first and then come in here and figure out what you want?”
She chafed her arms again and he handed over her jacket. She took it and draped it over her shoulders. But she didn’t leave.
“Are we really safe here?”
Chase nodded. He wasn’t going to tell her that even the best preparations sometimes weren’t enough, but he was pretty confident they were today. Hawk didn’t do anything half-assed, and now he had the money—loads of money thanks to his pop-star wife—to have the best of everything, which included high-tech surveillance equipment and alarms.
“Yeah, we’ll be fine. Hawk knows what he’s doing.”
“Are you just telling me that to make me feel better?”
“Do you really want the answer to that question?”
She nodded, her hair shining in the overhead light, her expression wary and haunted. He wanted to go over and pull her into his arms, hug her tight. No way in hell would he give in to that urge though.
“Yeah, we’ll be fine,” he said. “Go take a shower and stop worrying.”
She looked at him for a long moment before she turned and melted into the darkness of the house.
Chase shoved a hand through his hair as his heart pumped faster than it should and his gut squeezed
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