Powerful and Proud: Beneath the Veil of Paradise / In the Heat of the Spotlight / His Brand of Passion

‘Chicken with pineapple and mango salsa,’ Chase informed her, whipping a dish cloth from his shoulder to wipe something up on the granite work surface. Millie felt her heart—or something—squeeze at the sight of him. He’d changed into a worn blue tee-shirt and faded jeans, and he looked so natural and relaxed standing there, different bowls and pans around him, the smells of fruit and spice in the air.

She and Rob had never cooked. They’d eaten takeaway every night or ready-made meals from the gourmet supermarket. Why cook, Rob had used to say, if you don’t have to? And she had agreed. After a ten-hour day at work, the last thing she felt like doing was making a meal. And they’d both been proud of the way Charlotte, at only two years old, would eat all the things they ate. Brie and smoked salmon. Spicy curries and pad thai. She’d loved it all.

A knot of emotion lodged in Millie’s throat. Why was she thinking about Charlotte? She never did. She’d closed that part of herself off, shut up in a box marked ‘do not open’. Ever.

Yet here she was, memories springing unbidden into her mind, filling up her heart.

‘Millie?’ Chase was glancing at her, eyes narrowed. ‘You OK there, Scary?’

She nodded. Sniffed. How stupidly revealing of her, but she couldn’t help it. She’d thought she could handle this week, but already she was finding she couldn’t. She was thinking too much. Feeling too much. She’d thought Chase would make her forget, but instead he was helping her to remember.

‘That bath was wonderful,’ she said, in a deliberate and obvious effort to change the subject. ‘I could live in it for a week.’

‘The water might get a bit cold.’ Chase reached for a couple of green chilies and began dicing them with practised ease.

‘Fair point.’ She took a breath and decided she needed to get on firmer footing. Find a little distance. ‘As nice as it is to wear my own clothes, I’m not sure how they got in your bedroom.’

‘A very nice bell hop drove them over while you were in the tub.’

‘Don’t you think you could have asked?’

He glanced up, eyebrows arched. ‘Are we still going over this? My terms, remember?’

‘You can’t keep throwing that at me every time I object to something, Chase.’

‘And that is because...?’

She blew out an exasperated breath. ‘It’s not fair.’

‘True.’

‘So?’

‘We’re not playing baseball, Millie. Or Parcheesi. There are no rules.’

She folded her arms. ‘Are you on some huge power trip? Is that what this is about?’

‘Does it seem like it?’ He sounded genuinely curious, and Millie was compelled to an unwilling honesty.

‘No, which is why I don’t get it. I still don’t really get what you want, Chase. Most men would take the sex and run.’

‘Has that been your experience?’

‘Don’t go there. No questions about the past.’

‘I told you what I wanted. One week.’

‘One intense, all-in week.’

‘Only kind that works for me.’

‘Why?’

Chase didn’t answer for a moment. He concentrated on his cooking, taking out some pieces of chicken from the bowl of marinade and tossing them into a pan shimmering with hot oil. Millie listened to the sizzle and spat as they cooked, a delicious aroma wafting up from the pan.

‘Why not?’ he finally said and flipped the chicken. ‘I know it’s easier and simpler on the surface, Millie, just to skim life. Don’t dig too deeply. Don’t feel too much. I’ve been there. That’s most of my misspent youth.’

She swallowed, knowing he was right. Easier, simpler and safer. ‘But now?’

‘I want something more. I want the whole carpe diem thing. Seize life. Suck the marrow from its bones.’

‘For one week.’

‘Yep. That’s about the size of it.’

‘And you decide to do this with me?’ She couldn’t keep the disbelief from her voice. ‘When you must know I’m the exact opposite of all that?’

He gave her a decidedly roguish smile. ‘That makes it more fun. And all the more reason why it has to be on my terms. Otherwise we’d never get anywhere.’

Millie shook her head. How could she argue with him? How could she explain that she was afraid one week with Chase might be enough to peel back all her protective layers, leave her bare, exposed and hurting? She didn’t want to admit the possibility even to herself.

She slid onto a stool and braced her elbows on the counter. ‘So what made you change your mind? To stop skimming?’

He poured the rest of the marinade on top of the chicken, stirring it slowly. ‘I think I might take this opportunity to invoke part B of the no-talking-about-the-past clause, which details that I don’t have to talk about it either.’

‘You have something to hide?’

She almost missed the dark flash in his eyes. She knew he was touchy about his family, but he’d told her the basics about that. Was there something else? Something he didn’t want her to know?

‘Not really,’ he said, taking the lid off a pan of rice and spooning some onto two plates warming on the hob. ‘Just some things I’d rather not talk about.’

‘What about your youth was so misspent?’

‘You trying to get to know me?’

‘Maybe.’

He shrugged. ‘Just the usual, really, for a spoiled rich kid. Expelled from half a dozen boarding schools, crashed my father’s Maserati. The final straw was sleeping with his girlfriend.’ He spoke so very nonchalantly, yet Millie sensed a thread of self-protectiveness in his voice. Maybe even hurt.

‘That’s pretty misspent.’

‘Yeah, well, I like to do things right.’ Now he ladled the chicken in its fragrant sauce over the rice, and Millie had to admit it all looked delicious. The man could cook.

‘And what made you change? I assume you’re not crashing Maseratis now?’

‘Only the odd one here or there.’

‘Seriously.’