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

‘You can read me?’ Chase leaned forward, his eyes glinting in the candlelight. She saw the golden-brown stubble on his jaw, could almost feel its sandpaper roughness under her fingers. She breathed in the scent of him, part musk, part sun, pure male. ‘What am I thinking now?’ he asked, a steely, softly worded challenge. Millie didn’t dare answer.

She knew what she was thinking. She was thinking about taking that hard jaw between her hands and angling her lips over his. His lips would be soft but firm, commanding and drawing deep from her. And she would give, she would surrender that long-held part of herself in just one kiss. She knew it, felt it bone-deep, soul-deep, which was ridiculous, because she barely knew this man. Yet in the space of an hour or two he’d drawn more from her than anyone had since her husband’s death, or even before. He’d seen more, glimpsed her sadness and subterfuge like no one else could or had. Not even the parents who adored her, the sister she called a best friend. No one had seen through her smoke and mirrors. No one but Chase.

And he was a stranger.

A stranger who could kiss her quite senseless.

‘I don’t know what you’re thinking,’ she said and looked away.

Chase laughed softly, no more than an exhalation of breath. ‘Coward.’

And yes, maybe she was a coward, but then he was too. Because Millie knew the only reason Chase had turned provocative on her was because he didn’t want to answer her question about his family.

She pushed her plate away, her appetite gone even though her meal was only half-finished. ‘How about that walk on the beach?’

He arched an eyebrow. ‘You’re done?’

She was so done. The sooner she ended this evening, the better. The only reason she wasn’t bailing on the walk was her pride. Even now, when she felt uncomfortable, exposed and even angry, she was determined to handle this. Handle him. ‘It was delicious,’ she said. ‘But I’ve had enough.’

‘No pun intended, I’m sure.’

She curved her lips into a smile. ‘You can read into that whatever you like.’

‘All right, Millie,’ Chase said, uncoiling from his chair like a lazy serpent about to strike. ‘Let’s walk.’

He reached for her hand and unthinkingly, stupidly, Millie let him take it.

As soon as his fingers wrapped over hers, she felt that explosion inside her again and she knew she was lost.

CHAPTER THREE (#u05679086-c80e-5dc4-ba86-e2c794dd1af8)

CHASE felt Millie’s fingers tense in his even as a buzz travelled all the way up his arm. Her fingers felt fragile, slender bone encased in tender skin. A sudden need to protect her rose in him, a caveman’s howl. Clearly it was some kind of evolutionary instinct, because if there was one woman who didn’t need protecting, it was Camilla Lang.

He thought she might jerk her hand away from his, and he was pretty sure she wanted to, but she didn’t. Didn’t want to show weakness, most likely. He smiled and took full advantage, tightening his hold, drawing her close. She tensed some more.

This woman was prickly. And Chase had a sneaking suspicion she had issues, definitely with a capital I. Bad relationship or broken heart; maybe something darker and more difficult. Who knew? He sure as hell didn’t want to. Didn’t he have enough to deal with, with his own issues? Those had a capital I too. And he had no intention of sharing them with Millie.

Even so he drew her from the table, still holding her hand, and away from the terrace, down the lift, through the resort, all the way outside. He threaded his way through the tables of the beach-side restaurant and bar, straight onto the sand. She held his hand the whole time, not speaking, not pulling away, but clearly not all that pleased about it either.

There they were, holding hands alone in the dark.

The wind rattled the leaves of the palm trees overhead and he could hear the gentle shoosh of the waves lapping against the shore. The resort and its patrons seemed far away, their voices barely a murmur, the night soft and dark all around them. Millie pulled her hand from his, a not-so-gentle tug.

‘Let’s walk.’

‘Sounds good.’

Silently they walked down the beach, the sand silky and cool under their bare feet. Lights of a pleasure yacht glimmered in the distance, and from far away Chase heard the husky laugh of a woman intent on being seduced.

Not like Millie. She walked next to him, her back ramrod-straight, her capris and blouse still relentlessly unwrinkled. She looked like she was walking the plank.

He nearly stopped right there in the sand. What the hell was he doing here, with a woman like her? Didn’t he have better ways to spend his time?

‘What?’ She turned to him, and in the glimmer of moonlight he saw those warm, soft eyes, shadowed with a vulnerability he knew she thought she was hiding.

‘What do you mean, what?’

‘You’re thinking something.’

‘I’m always thinking something. Most people are.’

She shook her head, shadows deepening in her eyes. ‘No, I mean...’ She paused, biting her lip, teeth digging into those worry marks once more. If she didn’t let up, she’d have a scar. ‘You’re regretting this, aren’t you? This whole stupid date.’

He stopped, faced her full-on. ‘Aren’t you?’

She let go of her lip to give him the smallest of smiles. ‘That’s a given, don’t you think?’

Did it have to be? How had they fallen into these roles so quickly, so easily? He wanted to break free. He didn’t want to be a flippant playboy to her uptight workaholic. He had a sudden, mad urge to push her down into the sand, to see her clothes wrinkled and dirty, her face smudged and sandy, her lips swollen and kissed...

Good grief.

Chase took a step back, raking a hand through his hair. ‘We’re pretty different, Millie.’

‘Thank God for that.’

He couldn’t muster a laugh. He had too many emotions inside him: longing and lust, irritation and irrational fear. What an unholy mix. He’d asked her out because it had seemed fun, amusing, but it was starting to feel way too intense. And he didn’t need any more intense. He took a breath and let it out slowly. ‘Maybe we should call it a night.’

She blinked, her face immediately blanking, as if her mind were pressing delete. Inwardly Chase cursed. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he knew in that moment he had.

‘Millie—’

‘Fine.’ Her back straighter than ever, she started down the beach away from the resort. He watched her for a second, exasperated with her stubbornness and annoyed by his own clumsy handling of the situation.

‘Aren’t you staying at the resort?’

‘I’m finishing our walk.’

He let out a huff of laughter. He liked this woman, issues and all. ‘I didn’t realise we’d set a distance on it.’

‘More than ten seconds.’ She didn’t look back once.

She was far enough away that he had to shout. ‘It was more like five minutes.’

‘Clearly you have very little stamina.’

There was more truth in that then he’d ever care to admit. ‘Millie.’ He didn’t shout this time, but he knew she heard anyway. He saw it in the tensing of her shoulders, the half-second stumble in her stride. ‘Come back here.’

‘Why should I?’