Page 88 of The Heartbreaker (Chandler Brothers 3)
She wet her lips before speaking. “You’re known for your family loyalty, Chase. Your need to protect. I’ve seen it in action and it’s strong. Admirable, even. And of course, guilt would follow if you felt you failed in any way.”
He narrowed his gaze, opting to let her finish before beginning any counterargument.
Her hand ran circles over her bandage, as if soothing herself while she spoke. “Like when your mother got sick. You felt so guilty for not being there that you planted yourself beside her, at the hospital and then at her house. You didn’t want me with you. In fact, you froze me out, remember?”
Again, he merely nodded. Let her make her point, he told himself, and then he’d counter every one. But his gut cramped and fear insidiously crept inside him, making him wonder. What if he couldn’t sway her?
No, he refused to believe that. He would. “What are you afraid of, honey?” he asked softly. After all, she’d been shot, and now she was questioning everything about her world, about him.
Her damp gaze met his. “It’s not fear. It’s certainty. I believe you love me.”
“That’s a good sign.”
She managed a laugh. “Well, no guy says that twice if he doesn’t mean it.”
He ran a hand through his hair, still confused. “So what’s wrong?”
“You’re letting guilt push you into going that one step further. Making you think I love you has to mean you want forever. You don’t, Chase. That’s the guilt talking.”
“No—”
“Let me finish,” she ordered in an un-Sloane-like voice. “Chase Chandler, the white knight. That’s the role you play best. I’ve seen it many times since we met. But it’s never been a life-or-death situation before. You weren’t there when I got shot. And because of that, you think you need to be with me forever. To protect me from everything that might ever happen.” Her voice rose, her language clear; she meant business.
And every word from her luscious lips dripped of serious certainty. She wouldn’t be swayed with platitudes, and Chase understood; he’d given her every reason to distrust his words. “Okay, to a certain extent, you’re right. I want to protect you and be with you forever. But not out of guilt.” He rose and began pacing the floor. “I know my own feelings,” he said, insulted she’d think otherwise no matter what he’d said or done in the past.
She sighed. “Chase, you stepped in and raised a family out of necessity. You said yourself you were finished with those days. Been there, done that might have been your exact words.” She folded one arm across her chest. “Nothing’s changed except my brush with death. And like your mother’s brush with death, it’s sent you into an I’m-not-leaving-you mode. Don’t worry, it’ll pass,” she said, sounding too jaded for his peace of mind.
“What makes you so sure you know everything?”
“Not everything. Just you.”
He rose over her, bracing his hands on the pillows behind her and leaning in close. So close he could bury his face in her hair, but instead he towered over her to make his point. “I know me too and I’ve changed.”
“It’s temporary,” she insisted, her bottom lip pushing out in firm resolution.
“There’s no way this can be temporary.” He captured her mouth with his, not accepting hesitance or arguments, immediately drawing her lush lower lip into his mouth and tasting her. Her warm, moist mouth told him she was alive, that he hadn’t lost her, nor would he.
Determined to make his point, to make her his, he deepened the kiss, his tongue taking command and swirling inside the damp recesses of her mouth. Only after he was certain he’d made his mark on every delectable inch, he softened the kiss, arousing himself even more by merely enjoying the sensation of his lips rubbing sensuously against hers.
Then he reluctantly broke the kiss. “We’re meant to be, honey.” He leaned his forehead against hers.
“For as long as you feel obligated. And I won’t have you saddled with a woman you feel too guilty to leave.” She inhaled, then uttered the words that were his undoing. “Good-bye, Chase.”
He didn’t leave immediately and she stared until he broke. Operating on autopilot, Chase walked out of Sloane’s room. Out of her life. It wasn’t permanent, he told himself, but he wasn’t convinced, unsure how to win her back or counter the feelings she had. Feelings he’d worked hard to cement in her mind.
* * *
Those same thoughts circled Chase’s head as he returned to the Gazette offices for the first time all week. Avoiding the stares of his employees and ducking Lucy before she could question him, he holed up in his office, ignoring phone calls. He was so focused, he didn’t hear his name being called until Madeline Carlisle tapped her manicured fingernails on his old desk.
