We don’t discuss what happened with Theodore-the-slimeball-Vandegren or what took place in the limo after we reach his Penthouse. Chase waves me off to bed saying he has work.

Instead of talking to me, he chooses to internalize his issues and isolate himself in his study. It hurts and makes me feel as if we’re taking steps backward instead of forward. I feel alone, like a cork bobbing in a sea of disappointment. I thought we’d gotten past the bulk of our communication issues. So wrong. Every time it bubbles up, it’s like a pot of water forgotten on a burning stove, left to overflow with the intense heat. I go to bed alone, exhausted over the day’s events. When I awake, disappointment once more crashes over me. He left me alone. I don’t even know if he slept next to me, though he did leave a note on his pillow.

At least he left a note. I can’t help but hope the “yours” signoff means something. Last night was the first time he’d said those three little words in months. Under the circumstances, I wish he hadn’t.

We also haven’t discussed any of what we revealed of our pasts since that night. Do I regret telling him about my past? That I love him? No. I could never regret that. Last night when I screamed my love for him as he took me in the limo was the only other time I told him. It was such a relief. It’s as if we’re holding onto that night and those revelations as if they never occurred. Even the “love” part.

As I get ready for the day, I decide not to sit around waiting for Chase to get home. I call the bellman and schedule a taxi to pick me up. I walk out of the building and jump into the waiting taxi as I wave at Chase’s sentinel sitting on his perch near the car.

Jack shoots me one of his patented scowls. He bounds over to the cab, but not fast enough. I promise the cab driver an extra twenty bucks if he squeals the tires as we speed off. I smile coyly as Jack puts his phone to his ear. I use my thumb and pinky to give him the symbol for making a call and mouth “call me,” adding to his irritation. He seems pretty peeved. Mission accomplished. I feel vindicated and free. Now for a little “me” time. I need the space to put things into perspective.

Besides, I refuse to be chauffeured around New York by Chase’s personal soldier so he can be apprised of my comings and goings.

My phone rings. I answer, saccharin sweet, “Hello darling.”

“What the hell are you doing going off without Jack?” His deep voice is clipped and razor sharp. “Didn’t you get my note?”

“I did.”

“Why the hell are you out without protection?”

“Look, Chase, you are not my great protector—”

“Wasn’t I last night?” he interrupts. “I protected you from potentially being sexually assaulted.”

“Last night was”—I have trouble finding the right words—“difficult.” I choose a light word, one without malice. “Today is a new day, and I’m more comfortable on my own. I will meet you back at your penthouse in plenty of time to get ready for our dinner this evening.”

His voice lowers. “I’d be more comfortable with Jack—”

I’m tired of his controlling ways. He cannot leave me lying in bed, cold and alone, and expect me to just do what he says. “Chase Davis…you, mister, do not own me.”

“Yet,” he growls.

Shaking my head, I try to wrap my mind around what he just said. Nope. Still doesn’t compute. “What?”

“I do not own you…yet,” he adds with a strained tone.

I can tell he’s barely holding on to his anger.

“Whatever, Chase. I’ll see you later this evening.” And with that, I hang up just like he does with me, never saying goodbye, just cutting him off with a dial tone. Serves him right.

I’m actually feeling quite proud of myself. He’s the one who avoided me last night. I don’t even know if we slept in the same bed. That thought more than anything saddens me. The last thing I need right now is to feel uncertain of my place in his life, in his bed. A day of shopping will perk me up. Shopping in New York City is exactly what every California girl dreams about. I tell the driver to head to the outlet stores. The closer I get to my retail therapy, the more I start to relax. I’m going to get a smoking hot dress for this evening and wow the socks of the temperamental Mr. Davis. Remind him of what he has so he never ever feels the need to isolate himself from me again.

* * *

I feel his presence before I see him. He’s sitting in the armchair across from the bed in the darkened room as I enter with today’s bargain finds. His elbows rest against his knees, his face teetering on the tips of his fingers. The drapes covering the window behind him are open enough to shine a slice of light across his furrowed brow.

“I was worried,” he says brusquely.

Setting my loot on the bed, I turn toward him, hands firmly planted on my hips. “I told you I’d be back in time for dinner. I keep my promises, Chase.”

“Just the thought of you out in the city, not knowing where you were, that you were safe…” He cocks his head to the side.

Preparing for battle, I adjust my shoulders, not really wanting to have this battle with him before I meet his family.

“Everything was fine. I went shopping. Got a dress for tonight,” I say, trying to change the topic. I riffle through my bags, looking for the outfit I plan on wearing.

“You think I don’t know that? It was nothing to have your credit card traced.” He is nonchalant in his admission, not even a hint of apology can be heard.

I whip my head to his side of the room, settling on him. I let go of the bags and they drop in a heap at my feet. “You what?”

“You heard me. I also paid for those items.” He gestures to my purchases.

Just when I’m about to respond, he continues halting me.

Chase lifts his hands and ticks off each finger with his next announcement. “I paid off your credit cards, and I put a large sum of money into your checking account.” His words are calm and evenly spaced.

However, that’s not how my twisted brain interprets them. He says “paid” and my mind morphs it into “owing.” He says “large sum of money” and my mind warps it into “you are my possession.”

I can’t breathe. My ability to speak is gone. Pretty much the only thing I’m capable of is standing still with what must be a stupefied look across my face. Again, I open my mouth and close it several times, trying to form a response, but nothing comes out. Panic swirls like liquid acid in my stomach, sending spikes of fear to hammer at my heart. I clutch my stomach and chest protectively.

“No woman of mine will go without. No woman of mine will live paycheck to paycheck.” He stands abruptly and walks over to me. “No woman of mine will need to shop at thrift stores when she can have everything she ever dreamed right at her fingertips!” There’s a grimace to his features, almost disgust twisting his beautiful lips.

“They were outlet stores, not thrift stores, and what the fuck?” I say.

He slides his hands around my waist. Scowling, I push away from him. He doesn’t relent, holding me tighter. His magic fingers move enticingly along the fabric of my hips and up my ribs. I close my eyes in frustration and excitement, the panic transitioning into lust. I want to be pissed at him. I am pissed, but when his hands are on me, I turn into a pile of goo. Chase hasn’t touched me since last night in the limo, and although the sex was satisfying, something happened to him. Since that moment, we’ve been off kilter. Proof can be found in his reaction moments ago.

He completely ignores my question, his hands burning a path along my sides up and over my swelling breasts, cupping them firmly. I gasp.

“And no woman of mine will go unprotected as long as I am around.” He slips his fingers into the straps of my dress and pulls them down my shoulders. The summery dress falls in a pool of cotton around my feet.

“I’m not your woman, Chase.” The words cross my lips in a breathy whisper, lacking conviction.

“No?” he asks flatly, while thumbing the erect peaks that are reaching for his attention.

He knows he’s affecting me. The grin that comes across his face is confident, smug. Handsome bastard. My nipples bead into impossibly tight knots as he pets them, pushing tightly against the white strapless bra. Moisture pools between my legs, soaking the barely there matching G-string.

He inhales deeply and stares into my eyes, straight through to my soul. He slides his right hand along the swells of my breasts, and his fingertips caress the skin so softly in a wide infinity symbol. Chills race up my back. The movement of his fingers reminds me of a scent wafting in a breeze, gone too quickly to place the origin. I let out a ragged breath as he trails down between my breasts and along the line of my stomach. Goose bumps cover my skin, but I’m not cold. Far from it. A fire burns so hot in my belly, only one thing can put it out, and he’s standing right in front of me, toying with me. He knows it too. He is intimately aware of the power he holds over me.

“You are my woman, and I’ll prove it.” He dips into my panties, and without preamble, he pushes two fingers deep inside.

I cry out and grasp onto his shoulders. A firm arm already around my waist holds me up. Never for a moment would he let me fall.

“You see how wet you are for me?”

I close my eyes. Regardless of what words come out of my mouth, my body is Judas, a traitor working for him, and he knows it too well.

“Chase,” I breathe, trying to say something, anything, before I lose the battle completely. His fingers dig deeper, and he presses me back. His knee comes up onto the bed, and I’m floating down to its surface on a haze of lust. He’s a puppeteer, controlling my body’s responses, and I’m his willing marionette.

“I don’t know why I have to repeat myself.” He tangles his fingers into the side of my panties and slips them off my legs. He grips my legs and spreads them apart more roughly than I expect. He palms my thighs and drags down to my center. Slowly, just his thumbs draw apart my lower lips, exposing me fully to his gaze. He groans deeply at the sight.

He brings his head down to me and inhales. “I’ll never forget your scent. I love knowing that I’m the only man who gets to experience this piece of heaven.” And then he’s everywhere at once. The flat of his incredible tongue laps at me in long strokes, from the tiny rosette that tingles every time he touches it with his delectable tongue to the place where I need him most.

“More,” I whisper.

“I’m sorry, baby. What did you say?” He twirls his tongue in a circular motion around my engorged clit. “Because I think you said you wanted more.” He delves deep into my core, stabbing in and out, his mouth fucking me where I want his cock.

“God, yes, Chase.” I squeal and gyrate my hips against his face trying to get more pressure, more tongue, more of him, more, just more.

“Tell me what I want to hear, gorgeous, and I’ll give you what you want,” he says with extreme confidence.

I moan in answer. He’s not playing fair. He knows I’m going to cave.

He spreads my cheeks wide and swirls his tongue around my anus, stabbing at the puckered hole, making me squirm with pleasure. He wets the area fully and then replaces his tongue with the soft pad of his thumb, pressing into the tight muscle as it flowers open for him.

“Has any man ever had your ass, Gillian?” he asks.

I shake my head repeatedly, lost to the dark feeling roaring through me.

He grins. “That’s good, real good. I want to be the only man who has had you in every way possible.”

My hands come up of their own accord and cup my breasts. Pushing the bra down, I twist and pull at the pebbled peaks. His words of ownership, the force with which he is staking his claim in a way I’ve only fantasized about before today, have me out of my mind with lust. Then it dawns on me, like the sun peeking out behind dark clouds. I’m choosing to let him control me, entrusting him with my body, mind, and soul.

It’s my choice.

He presses harder into my most private juncture and pushes pasts the tight ring of muscle. A burning sensation scalds me from the inside out but quickly dissipates into white-hot pleasure. He pulls his thumb slowly out and presses it back in again. The feeling is intense, unusual, but so good I start to press against it, seeking deeper penetration.

“Damn, baby, you’re stunning. I love fucking you. You make me so hard,” he says and licks his lips.

His tongue comes back into play and twirls around my swollen clit, flicking and stabbing in perfect succession. Two fingers from his other hand push into me and hook up rubbing against the pleasure button deep within me. He’s penetrating my cunt and ass as he sucks and nibbles on my clit. Full. So full I’m about to burst. I push against his fingers and thumb shamelessly as he laps and licks at my clit. His mouth clamps over the overstimulated bud and he sucks hard, pushing me into a blinding orgasm that has me screaming his name at the top of my lungs.

He’s relentless in stretching out my pleasure for as long as possible, his tongue roughly continuing the torture of my clit. I twine my fingers in his hair, grip his head, and clamp my thighs around his head as my orgasm rolls from one into another unending burst of pleasure. He keeps up the pressure until he’s wrung two orgasms in a row out of me, leaving me in a boneless heap, spread eagle on his mattress, my bra twisted around my waist.

His gaze is predatory as he pulls off his shirt and pants, looking down at me spread before him. “Now, tell me again that you’re not my woman,” he demands.

I close my eyes and accept my fate. “I can’t,” I say, realizing there was never any other option. From the minute I met Chase, he had me.

It dawns on me that I was daydreaming when I felt his fingertips trail along my face. His cock nudges my entrance and presses into me. He gives me one slow inch of his thick cock at a time. Almost teasing me with it. Then finally, he’s seating to the hilt. All the air leaves my body in a whoosh the moment his bare chest meets mine. Heart to heart.

“God, I love you.” His breath shimmers across my lips when he’s imbedded fully.

Tears spill down my cheeks. I open my eyes and see the truth shining through his. I’ve waited months to hear him utter those words again.

Wrapping my legs around his waist, I enfold myself completely around this man I adore.

“I love you, more.”

* * *

Our lovemaking makes us twenty minutes late for dinner with his cousin Craig and his wife, Faith. Craig is tall and more distinguished looking than his siblings, though he smiles as big and as often as Carson. His wife is an elegant brunette. Her full lips stretch into a genuine grin as she offers me the seat next to her.

We fall into easy conversation with the couple, laughing a great deal throughout the meal. I really like Craig and Faith. They are new parents and spend dinner filling us with hysterical tales about their nine-month-old son, Caden. Stories that horrify Chase and amuse the hell out of me. I’ve always wanted children, so I soak up every detail of their experience with their son.

Chase’s phone rings throughout the entire dinner. Finally, I encourage him to take the call and settle the issue or he will continue to be distracted. He grins and kisses me on the temple as he excuses himself.

Just when he is out of earshot, Faith pounces. “So you and Chase seem pretty serious.”

“Faith, really? You’ve met her once!” her husband admonishes. “I’m sorry, Gillian. She just can’t help it. She’s a matchmaker at heart.”

“I just want everyone to be as happy as I am with you, babe.” She bats her eyelashes and grins wickedly.

He rolls his eyes, clearly taken with his wife.

“I don’t mind, really, Craig. Chase and I are enjoying our time together, and we’re committed to one another,” I say and look off into the distance.

Chase hovers by the bar. His hand rests on the elbow of a woman. Every so often he smiles and tips back his head in laughter. The woman turns around, and what I see floors me. She’s tall with a curvy body wrapped in a formfitting blue silk dress. One delicate-looking hand pulls her long red hair over one shoulder. She looks a lot like me, as in, we could be sisters.

“What the hell is she doing here?” Craig says with a twinge of anger. “Excuse me.” He stands and stomps towards Chase and the mystery woman.

“Who is that, Faith?” I never take my eyes off Chase and this woman.

He keeps touching her, clasping her elbow with one hand and moving a piece of hair away from her face. That simple act is far too intimate to be an acquaintance. Jealousy rears its ugly head, and I push it deep down in the dark recesses of my subconscious.

Faith bites her lip and I stare at her expecting an answer. “That’s Megan O’Brian.” She looks at the woman with disdain, shooting daggers across the restaurant.

“And why is she important? Chase seems to know her well,” I say quietly, trying to suppress the worry in my tone.

“Of course he knows her. That’s Megan, the Megan,” she emphasizes with quotes around the words “the Megan” as if that explains everything.

I shake my head and shrug my shoulders.

“His ex-fiancée, his first love…that Megan!” she clarifies.

I’m certain my skin goes white.

Faith scowls, watching the two interact. “I hate her. She almost wrecked our family.” She stares at Chase, Craig, and “the Megan.”

I still haven’t been able to form a response, stunned by her revelation. He was going to get married? Married to her.

Faith finally tears her eyes away from the trio and focuses on me. Her face pales. “Oh, shit. You didn’t know, did you?” She lowers her eyes.

Trying to appear as though hearing about Chase’s engagement to another woman isn’t gutting me alive, I shake my head.

Standing, I walk over to the group. Craig sees me and widens his eyes. He retreats the second I arrive, saying something about needing to get back to Faith and settling the check. Chase doesn’t even look at me, his eyes still glued to the beauty before me. And she is just that, a true beauty. Her hair is a fiery red whereas mine is more a deep mahogany. Her doe eyes are a startling sky blue. Mine are the color of emeralds. She has luscious lips as pink and full as a plum rose.

She licks them surreptitiously, but I notice her game. She’s overtly flirting with Chase. I tap his shoulder, and she looks at me, sizing me up from head to toe. Chase turns his head and his eyes go wide, a full deer in the headlights, kid caught with a hand in a cookie jar look, along with every other euphemism for one who has been caught red-handed.

“Um, Gillian, uh, this is Megan, um Megan O’Brian,” he stammers.

The first time I have ever truly heard him at a loss for words.

I shake the woman’s hand, though I’d rather punch her just for existing. “Pleased to meet you.” I slide my hand around Chase’s waist and snuggle in.

His hand loops around my shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Chase has never mentioned you before,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant, but I’m anything but. I’m literally dying inside.

“He wouldn’t have. What we had together was…” She pauses and looks deep into Chase’s eyes. “It was very special,” she finishes, breathless.

I can feel Chase’s heartbeat pounding in his chest even though he locks me to his side. For some reason, he’s still deeply affected by this woman.

“It was a long time ago,” he says sternly.

She smiles coyly. “That it was,” she says, biting her lips and twiddling with her hair. “I still remember everything.”

He bristles.

“Well, I’ll see you at my uncle’s sixtieth birthday bash next week, then?” He backs up a step and turns us sideways.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She flicks her hair and turns. “See you then, handsome,” she says without even a nod in my direction.

Pulling away from him, I head back to the table quickly, and grab my handbag. My movements are shaky and a bit frazzled. I try to hide the overwhelming emotion as best I can.

“We’ll see you next week, right, Gillian?” Faith asks. “We’re flying in for your father’s birthday extravaganza next weekend, right, babe?”

Craig nods.

Before I can answer Faith’s question with the reply that I wasn’t, in fact, invited to the birthday, nor had I heard about it before Megan mentioned it, Chase beats me to it.

“Of course she’ll be by my side. Then, now, and forever,” Chase answers smoothly.

I’m certain that was in effort to calm my irrational emotions. He lays a hand on my lower back, and even though it makes me feel better, I’m still seething.

Chase and I exit, a good two feet between our bodies at all times. I can hardly look at him for fear that I’ll cry. We take the limo back to his penthouse in complete silence. The elephant looming over us restricts all the air in my body like a snake coiled tightly around me.

I storm into the bedroom and throw my purse on the bed. I whirl, and he’s standing there, quietly watching me.

The lines in his face seem deeper, his eyes definitely apologetic. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Megan,” he offers.

Yeah right. “What else haven’t you told me? Are you actually married? Got a couple of kids I should know about too?” The words fly from my lips on acid-soaked wings.

Chase shakes his head and frowns. “Look, Gillian, it was a long time ago. A lifetime ago.”

“Back there, the way you looked at her, it was like it was yesterday. You still love her.” My voice cracks.

Chase’s eyes narrow, and the initial frown turns into a tight scowl. “No, I don’t love her. I loved the idea of her.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “Look, all you need to know is that Megan and I are not together, and we never will be again. She hurt me too deeply.” He pulls off his blazer and tosses it into the armchair. The tie follows it but slips off the chair onto the floor.

“I saw the way you looked at her. Sometimes I think that’s the way you look at me.” Tears fill my eyes, but I don’t let them fall.

He comes over and pulls me into a tight embrace. “Gillian, I’m only going to say this once. Megan is history. She is not in my life. You are. You’re the only woman I want.” He looks into my eyes as the tears fall. “Do you trust me?” he asks—the most loaded question of the century.

“I want to,” I say quietly. More tears stream down my cheeks.

He kisses them away. “That’s good enough…for now.”

Chase takes his time with my lips, kissing me so softly. It feels like a promise. For now, it is enough.