The Look of Love

Chapter Four

Chloe closed her eyes again, held her breath, and went completely under the water as the jets turned off on their own. She held her breath as long as she could, al the while praying that when she came back up the door would stil be closed and locked...and that Chase seeing her not just na**d, but masturbating in his brother's bathtub would be nothing more than a bad dream.

Alas, when she came back up for air and opened her eyes, there he was, standing right where he'd been a minute ago.

Despite the fact that she was already in warm water, she could feel an extra hot flush of mortification quickly covering her skin, head to toe.

At least, that's what she told herself it was.

With a snap of water and skin, she shoved her thighs together and lifted her knees to try and hide her na**d bottom half, while simultaneously crossing her arms over her chest to cover her breasts.

Forcing herself to meet his gaze - green eyes that blazed with enough heat to set off a fire extinguisher - she said, "The door was locked!"

Good thing she already knew better than to expect an apology. Because Chase didn't look the least bit repentant. "It must not have locked al the way."

Her lips shouldn't be on the verge of tilting up into a grin. None of this was funny. Rather, it would have been funny if it were happening to anyone else, like, say, in a movie she was watching.

But this wasn't a romantic comedy.

This was her screwed-up life.

"Do you always break into the bathroom when you have guests?"

At long last, he looked a teensy bit chagrined. "I didn't see your things in the bedroom. I thought you might have decided to leave again." He paused, his gaze softening behind the desire that stil radiated from him. "I was worried about you."

The sweetness of that final sentence hit her right in the solar plexus, right where she was stil stupidly vulnerable, making her eyes close at the force of it.

She knew she should just keep her eyes closed. Because when she made the mistake of opening them again to be brave and look him in the eye, what she saw on his face made it impossible for her to tel the difference between his desire and his sweetness.

How could she when they were both wrapped up in one far-too-gorgeous package?

Oh God.

She'd been so stunned by seeing him standing in the doorway that she'd completely forgotten the name that had passed her lips as she was coming.

She gulped. Hard.

Knowing there was only one way to play it, she said with far more bravado than she actual y possessed, "I know a lot of Chases, by the way."

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching with an obvious urge to grin. "Real y?"

He held her there in that half-smile for longer than was fair. Especial y when both of them knew she'd likely never met a Chase before in her life.

"People usual y tel me it's a pretty uncommon name."

Wel , what was she going to say to that? But now that the initial stab of mortification and surprise had passed, Chloe became even more aware of the position she was in.

Whatever Chase's mother had taught him, she'd clearly forgotten the lesson on leaving a na**d girl alone to regain her composure. Because instead of letting her get out of the tub and get dressed in peace, he let his appreciative gaze flicker up and down her bare skin.

Her hands itched to cover herself up more, but even though the na**d girl on his bed had been a good thirty pounds thinner than Chloe, why did she have to be ashamed of her curves?

She'd been told one too many times by one certain person that she needed to lose weight. She was never going to diet again. Not for anyone. She was keeping her muscles and curves, thank you very much.

Throwing on that cloak of bravado again, she said, "I'm stil na**d here, you know."

"You certainly are," he stated, his pleasure at her na**d state clear and up front.

Why wasn't she more irritated with him?

Or, more to the point, why wasn't she scared?

He was big. Way bigger than she was. His hands could do incredible damage to her. Not to mention other parts of his body that could hurt her.

And yet...she wasn't afraid of him. At first, she'd been wary about getting into his car, but then, when he'd started talking about his family, that wariness had disappeared. She'd tried to force it to reappear in the kitchen when he'd insisted on looking at her cheek, but the truth was, she hadn't been running because she was afraid he'd hurt her.

No, she'd wanted to run because of a different kind of fear entirely.

She'd been frightened of her response to him. Of how strong - and immediate - it was.

And now, here she was, na**d and wet in rapidly cooling water, stil feeling that response. More than ever, in fact.

Irritated with herself for this strange weakness, and with Chase for being such an obstinate guy, she said with no smal measure of sarcasm, "You don't take a hint very wel , do you?"

He grinned, a beautiful smile that did funny things to her stomach. "I'm better with direct requests."

"Get out."

He grinned again, a good solid laugh coming alongside it. "Want a towel first?"

"So by better you meant terrible?"

His response was to move farther into the room rather than out of it. He pul ed a thick, plush towel off the heated rack. "Here you go."

He held out the towel just far enough away that she'd have to stand up, step out of the tub, and walk over to him to reach it.

Stal ing, stil trying to figure out just why she was going along with this crazy game the two of them were playing with each other, she said, "So what happened to the other na**d girl? Stil waiting for a three-way?"

"I sent her home."

Deciding there weren't a whole lot of reasons left to hold back her sassy mouth, she made a little face and let loose with, "Poor thing. Was she disappointed by how fast you got off?"

A muffled laugh came from Chase. "I'm afraid this wasn't her lucky night. She found her clothes and left right after you did."

Hmm. Wel , that was surprising. She didn't know many men who could send home a beautiful na**d woman without first taking what was offered.

Why wasn't he leaving her alone, too?

And, more to the point, why didn't she want him to?

Both of them knew that if she started screaming, that if she real y wanted him to go, he'd go.

Instead, they were playing this little game.

A game she was having way too much fun with.

So much fun, in fact, that if it went on much longer she was bound to do something real y stupid.

Real y, real y stupid.

No.

She was done with stupid. Her marriage had been made entirely of it, after al . And look what that had gotten her. A big, ugly bruise on her face, her car in a ditch...while she hid out in a stranger's house and tried to ignore the fact that she stil needed to figure out how to deal with it al .

The frustrating thought had her forgetting al about the game she and Chase were playing, just long enough that she stood up to grab the towel before she realized what she'd done.

Stunned, she stood before him, shockingly aware of each bead of water as it slid across her skin and back down into the tub.

Chase's green eyes dilated almost to black as he looked at her. "My God, you're lovely, Chloe."

She wasn't sure he was aware that he'd said the words aloud, but the reverence in them shook her. No one had ever looked at her like that, like he'd never seen anyone or anything quite so pretty.

No. Not pretty.

Lovely.

Maybe it was the power of that one word, when up until now she'd only ever heard hot and sexy, that kept her standing there, stil na**d and dripping.

Waiting.

Anticipating.

Wanting.

She knew exactly what was going to come next, could practical y choreograph what every single guy on earth would do in this situation. Chase was going to grab her. Fuck her. And she would probably come for him even though she didn't real y want to, deep down in her heart. In the morning she'd hate him for taking advantage of her body when her heart wasn't at al in it. But, mostly, she'd end up hating herself.

Only, as the seconds ticked by in time with the overly loud beating of her heart, even though Chase clearly wanted nothing more than to rip off his jeans and join her in the tub, he didn't. Even though they both knew he was big enough and strong enough to be inside of her before she took her next breath, he didn't so much as move an inch closer.

Chloe couldn't believe it. She hadn't given him permission to touch her. And, amazingly, he wasn't taking it anyway, wasn't taking whatever he could from her just because he was bigger and stronger than she was.

A sharp pang landed right behind her breastbone, right in the center of that heart that had been so bruised and battered.

Was it possible that, for the first time in her life, she'd actual y met a man who wouldn't ever touch her, who wouldn't even try to make a move...unless she let him? Was it actual y possible that despite the intense desire in his dilated pupils and the way the muscles in his jaw were jumping at the self-control he was using to remain right where he was, Chase would never lay a hand - or his lips - on her unless she outright asked him to touch her? Could it be possible that he'd never press his lips against hers unless she begged him to kiss her, until she was ready and desperate for his touch, for his lovemaking?

Visions of that desperation shouldn't be so clear to her, shouldn't already be running through her mind like a sexy videotape. But they were so ridiculously clear - and potent - that it took every ounce of self-control she had to force herself to shove them away before pushing the words from her heaving lungs.

"I'l take that towel now, thanks."

There'd never been a less sexy statement said between a man and woman.

So then, why did she suddenly feel so breathless?

Holy hel .     Chase had done his fair share of crazy shit, been party to plenty of acrobatic sex sessions ful of writhing, na**d, perfect bodies.

But none of those nights had anything on seeing Chloe come in the bathtub.

And there wasn't a single model's body that had an ounce of the sensuality that infused every cel on Chloe's lovely na**d body.

Looking down, he realized the towel was actual y shaking in his hands.

Chase worked to calm himself the f**k down. He shouldn't have stayed in the bathroom. He knew that.

But he hadn't been able to help himself. And he didn't think she had real y wanted him to leave, either.

Stil , some smal voice of rational thought told him he should give her the towel before she dried al on her own. He held the towel out to her and she tugged on it before lifting her eyes to his.

"Hotstuff?" He watched surprise register in her face at what she'd cal ed him.

Hotstuff.

"You're talking to me, right?" he asked, glad to see her give him another one of those beautiful smiles that practical y knocked him over.

"It's a good nickname, don't you think?" Before he could answer, she reminded him, "You need to let go of the towel."

Crap, he knew that. But, hel , he wasn't sure he could remember how to say his own name right now. So how was he supposed to get his brain to work enough to unwrap his fingers from the cotton?

"Sorry." And he real y was sorry, especial y when she quickly wrapped the large towel around herself.

"That bathtub is real y great."

He was pretty sure he looked like an idiot standing there unable to respond. He'd accidental y watched her give herself what looked to be a real y great orgasm and al she had to say was that the bathtub was great?

"I'm not sure the bathtub had anything to do with it," he final y said.

He loved the sound of her laughter, loved the fact that it sounded less and less rusty every time he heard it.

She shrugged as she walked past him, tucking the towel into place between her incredible breasts. "A guy should never underestimate the power of a wel -placed jet," was her response as she walked up to the mirror and began finger-combing her hair.

When he just continued to stand there and watch her from behind, she raised an eyebrow in the mirror. "I'm sure you're tired."

Fuck no. He wasn't tired. He was horny. As horny as he'd ever been.

"I don't need much sleep."

She nodded, turned to face him. "Wel , I do." With that, she walked out of the bathroom and to the door that led out to the hal way. "Good night."

He dutiful y headed to the door, long after he should already have been on his way. "Good night."

Despite the fact that his c**k was stil raging in his jeans, as he walked past her, the kiss he wanted to give her wasn't one that would have her begging him for another orgasm.

No, what he real y wanted to do was press a kiss to her forehead. He wanted to give her a gentle kiss that would let her know she was safe with him.

That she would always be safe with him.

But he hadn't earned that kiss and instinctively knew better than to take anything from her that she hadn't offered.

He was halfway down the hal when he heard her say, "Hotstuff?"

Grinning again at the nickname she'd given him - that had to be good, right? - he turned around. "Yes?"

Despite the nickname, she looked serious again. Real y, real y serious. "Thank you. For everything you did tonight."

His chest squeezed at her heartfelt words. And at the Thank you for everything you didn't do that she wasn't saying, silent words that rang out just as clearly as the words she'd said aloud.

"You don't have to leave here and go to your brother's house. I think I'l be okay with you at the end of the hal rather than on the other side of the winery."

Hoping that meant she actual y felt safer with him in the house, rather than gone completely, he said, "Sleep wel ."

"I think I actual y wil ."

And then her door closed and he stood staring at the place she'd been standing for a long while.

Chase Sul ivan hadn't realized that tonight his life was going to change forever.

But it just had.

And, amazingly - shockingly - he wasn't the least bit interested in fighting that change. Instead, he was gearing up for a different fight altogether...

for Chloe's heart.