CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Two hours later after borrowing a dress from Roxi and spending an hour getting ready in Roxi’s private suite upstairs, Chloe was ready to go. Roxi acted surprised that Chloe consented to go and wary when she told her boss it was just to get it out of his system and then she would never have to see the guy again. Armed with her purse pack of pepper spray and Spyderco pearl-handled knife, she waited outside for the “car” that was supposed to pick her up.

Chloe’s stomach was in knots, and she feared that she was going to trickle sweat down the sides of the cute little black dress Roxi loaned her. She had no idea what she was doing or why, but she had come this far, so she planned on seeing it through. If this guy had anything other than dinner on his mind he would be blinded by pepper spray, have a knife in his balls and face down on the concrete before he could think about it twice. That, Chloe, had no doubts about.

While she was plotting how she would kick his pretty ass, a four-door silver Bentley pulled up to the curb. Jesus, a Bentley and a helicopter ride? This guy was going way over the top for a first and last date. The driver got out and removed his hat, “Miss Green?”

“Um…” She considered cancelling right then and there, but once again her mouth overrode her brain and said, “Yes.”

He pulled open the back door of the car and before she got in, she looked inside, nobody hiding in there. She slid in and between the soft material of the expensive dress Roxi loaned her and the soft leather of the seats; it felt like she was sitting on a cloud. The driver closed the door, and as she fastened her seatbelt, she thought, “Here we go. No turning back now.”

She watched out the window as the landmarks of the small city they lived in passed by. Once they were on the freeway, she said, “Are we going to the airport?”

“No miss, Mr. Stark’s firm has a private airstrip they use near Providence. We’ll be meeting them there.” Of course, he has a private airstrip. She rolled her eyes and sat back in the buttery seat. The ride was so smooth she could barely feel them moving. You would think in this kind of luxury she could relax, but it was a lost cause. Instead, she ran through her mind all the places this man could be taking her. Jesse could have gotten out early, and this was all a ruse to get her to him. The more she let herself think about it, the more she was convinced that was what this was. She had been duped.

As she watched the main road disappear and the long, deserted road they were on turn into a small airport with about ten hangars, she was taking deep breaths and willing herself not to have a panic attack.

What the hell was she doing? If this was a ruse, what the hell was she going to do?

The Bentley pulled up next to one of the larger hangars and on the side “Stark Real Estate Inc.” was painted in bold, green lettering. Surely a man as important as this wouldn’t have agreed to be a part of a ruse that delivered a woman to her death. She was paranoid again. But that paranoia was what had kept her alive for the past two years. The truth was what she was really afraid of tonight was that she would start trusting this man and she would lose that. Once she was stripped of her doubts, she would be naked and vulnerable.

The car door came open, and instead of the driver, Derek stood in the doorway. He looked like every woman’s wet dream in a dark blue Armani suit and a tie that had the same color stripes as his eyes. Chloe took one look at his towering frame, and if she hadn’t known before, she knew now that she was in trouble. He reached his hand in the door, and she took it…tentatively and let him help her out of the car. Once she was standing next to him, his eyes took in her dress and the way the soft material clung to her curves with a more than appreciative glance.

“You look amazing,” he said.

She tried to smile, but she was such a nervous wreck she was afraid it would come across as a grimace. Instead, she kept her face neutral and said, “Thank you. You look really nice too.”

“Shall we?” he said, gesturing towards a giant dark blue helicopter with the same lettering on the side as the hangar. Chloe nodded, and as he tried to put his hand on the small of her back to guide her, she took longer steps. Touching was not part of this deal. It was dinner that was it? Derek didn’t push it. Instead, he stepped past her when they got close and pulled open the big door on the side of the helicopter.

She must have had a wary expression because he said, “Have you ever been in a helicopter?” She shook her head, and he said, “I think you’ll like it. My pilots are the best.” She nodded and let him take her hand and help her inside.

The seats were big and almost as soft as the ones in the Bentley. There was an older man in the “driver’s” seat and a younger woman about Chloe’s age on the “passenger” side. Derek slipped in next to her, and someone closed the door from the outside. “Chloe this is Greg and Marta. They’re both very experienced pilots.”

The pilots both welcomed her with a smile and then putting on their head gear they started pushing buttons and chattering into their little microphone pieces. Chloe watched curiously, jumping about a foot off her seat when the engine at last fired up. That was nothing though compared to the sounds of the propellers.

“Would you like some ear plugs?” Derek asked her, looking concerned. She was sure she looked like she was about to rabbit because that was how she felt. She didn’t think they had left the ground yet; the only problem was that he was now between her and the door.

“No thank you,” she said. All she really had was her senses; she wasn’t going to block any of them tonight. She watched out the big window as the helicopter began to lift off the ground. She had been on an airplane a few times; this was an entirely different feeling. They were lifting straight up into the air. She was gripping the leather of her seat so tightly her knuckles had gone white.

“Doing okay?” Derek asked her.

That time Chloe realized that everything he had said to her so far had been with genuine concern in his voice. He really wasn’t the kind of guy who would be delivering her back to her ex-monster, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have demons of his own. That would remain to be seen.

“I’m fine,” she told him, not taking her eyes off of the beauty below them. The city was lit brightly, and they were low enough that she was able to pick out the landmarks and keep her brain occupied. Derek sat quietly until at last the pilot took them high enough that the city was but a blur across the ground and picked up speed. Then he said, “I’m glad you agreed to come.”

“Hmm,” she said. She knew that “Me too,” was the appropriate response, but she wasn’t there yet. If she got there at all.

“So Chloe, tell me about yourself.”

She looked at him. That was a mistake. If she planned on maintaining her seemingly rampant hormones tonight, she was probably going to have to stop doing that.

“There’s really nothing to tell,” she said. “This is me.”

He smiled, “Did you grow up in Rhode Island?” he asked.

“No,” she said. The mention of her growing up brought back images of beatings…and worse that she didn’t want to think about. “What about you?” she asked, trying to turn the tables.

He seemed to be more endeared by her discomfort than put off by it. “No,” he said. “I grew up in New York.”

“So how did you end up in a small coastal town in Rhode Island?”

He looked a little wistful as he said, “I came here after I finished school because of the real estate boon. I stayed. Well, because the business was soon thriving and it’s a nice place to live, don’t you think?”

She had to agree with that. She loved it here. “Yes, it is,” she said. “I love the beach.”

With a smile he said, “So do I. Do you live near the water?”

“Yes,” she said. That was enough information on where she lived. “What about you?”

“I live in it,” he said with a grin. “I know it sounds strange for a man who owns copious amounts of real estate, but I live on my yacht.”

Chloe raised an eyebrow. That was interesting. It told her that he wasn’t interested in putting down roots. She wondered why that was.

She suddenly felt them losing altitude and looked out the window. She could see the outline of the hangars as the ground seemed to be coming up to meet them. She held her breath until she felt the copter sit firmly on the ground and then she looked over at Derek. As usual, his cool blue eyes were watching her. It felt sometimes like he was trying to look inside her head. It was unnerving.

“Here we are,” he said. He waited for the propellers to stop turning and then he opened the door. Once he stepped out, he turned and offered her his hand. She took it, and for the third time that night she felt the electricity shoot out of his fingertips into hers and race through her veins. Trouble, trouble, trouble, she thought.

There was another extravagant car waiting for them on this end. This one was a black Lincoln Towne car. Derek held the door for her while she slid in and then he slid in next to her. Another confined space. She could smell the subtle hint of his woodsy cologne, and although it was probably her imagination, she thought she could actually feel the heat coming off of his body. She had never been to Maine, so she made herself concentrate on the sights as she looked out the window. They drove in virtual silence for about twenty minutes, finally coming to a restaurant called “The Blue Porpoise.”

The entire building was floor to ceiling windows. They were tinted on the outside so that people couldn’t look in and there was a wide redwood deck that surrounded it and seemed to be the only thing holding it to the shore. Otherwise, it was surrounded by nothing but ocean and the bridge that went from the parking lot to the front door.

Against her better judgment, Chloe was captivated by it. “Wow, what a beautiful place,” she said.

“It is, I enjoy it,” Derek said. He put his hand on the small of her back again as they crossed the bridge towards it. She stiffened, but this time she forced herself not to over-react. He let go of her when they got to the door and held it open as she stepped inside. Chloe looked around. She decided that this might be the most truly charming, unpretentious place that she had ever been. She was impressed by the simple fact that he hadn’t taken her to a place that was meant to impress. People were dressed anywhere from casual in jeans and nice shirts to formal like Derek in his Armani suit. There was soft country music playing in the background, and each table seemed to be placed so that no matter where you sat, you had a three hundred and sixty degree view of the ocean.

The hostess greeted them, calling Derek by name. She led them to a table that was right up against the window and outside on the rocks that ran close to the deck and its twinkling lights, a couple of sea otters slept.

“Do you drink wine?” Derek asked her.

She tore her eyes from the ocean and looked and locked them on the ocean that was his eyes. Did she drink wine? Yes, she did, when she was home and safe or out to dinner with Lexi. Did she drink wine when she was three hundred miles from home with a strange man? She didn’t know. This was a new experience. A glass of wine might calm her nerves.

“Sure, a glass of wine sounds good,” she said.

Derek called over the waiter and ordered a bottle of Chablis. Then he looked at her again and said, “You have to try their blueberry muffins, they’re incredible.”

She smiled at him then. Something about his face when he had said, ‘Blueberry muffins’ had reminded her of a little boy who was excited about getting a treat. Damn him! It wasn’t going to work. He could be human and endearing all he wanted, but this was one dinner. Then she would walk away.