Harper couldn’t remember ever being so happy.
Sitting in his living room with the lights off, Chase took a sip of the whiskey in his glass and stared out through the plate-glass windows. The lights of Dallas flickered in the streets below him, a beautiful sight that, tonight, did nothing to lift his mood.
Harper had looked so beautiful tonight, and so happy. She wanted to be with him, and, goddammit, he wanted to be with her.
And not just to get evidence against her father.
He enjoyed her company, liked just talking to her. He admired her strength and her intelligence. Admired her courage. And Jesus, he wanted her. Turning down her invitation had taken every ounce of his will.
He wanted way more from Harper than a nightcap, wanted to spend the night in her bed, wanted her in his.
Chase tipped his head back on the sofa. He was taking advantage of Harper, lying about his intensions, abusing her trust. He was more than half-tempted to call Zach Tanner and tell him he had failed, that he hadn’t been able to get Harper to invite him to the party.
He couldn’t believe it had happened so easily, without him saying a word. That she wasn’t afraid to confront her father on his behalf only made him feel worse.
Chase swore foully. Harper was sweet and trusting. Too damn trusting, especially of him.
But Knox Winston and his minions had ruined too many lives already. They needed to face justice, and this was a chance to make that happen.
As his brother had said,It’s what we do. He really had no choice.
Chase drained the last of the whiskey in his glass and rose from the sofa. He needed a good night’s rest, needed to be at his best when he faced Knox Winston. But his mind was churning, and guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders.
Add to that, after seeing Harper tonight, his desire burned hotter than ever, a deep, primal need unlike anything he had felt for a woman before.
He sighed as he started down the hall toward his bedroom. It looked like another night of very little sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Harper swept her hair into a twist, but left a few strands to fall loose. She wanted to look her best for Chase. She had chosen a forest green V-necked, off-the-shoulder gown of her own design. The bodice was lightly beaded while the skirt hugged her waist and hips, then flared softly to the floor.
She hurried out of the bedroom and descended the stairs, wanting to do a last-minute check of the town house in case he wanted to come in—now or later. Her stomach fluttered. She forced herself not to remember what it had been like when they made love.
She glanced around. The versatile cream walls were accented throughout with the same bright oranges, reds and yellows used by Elemental Chic. She straightened the abstract painting of a bright plumed parrot over the sofa and the orange and red throw pillows and took a deep breath. Chase would be there any minute.
Harper didn’t delude herself. It was going to be a difficult evening. She was fairly sure her father wouldn’t make a scene, but there was a chance he would ask both of them to leave.
Fortunately, the society editor for theMorning Newswas certain to be there, along with several other media outlets. If any sort of scandal occurred, the press would find out. Not something Knox Winston would want.
A firm knock sounded at the door. Harper grabbed her dark green beaded bag and opened the door. In a perfectly fitted black Armani tux, Chase looked gorgeous.
He leaned over and brushed a kiss on her cheek. “You look beautiful, angel.”
She didn’t expect the single white orchid he handed her. “Oh...thank you. I love orchids. It’s lovely.”
“It suits you.” He smiled at her softly. “You deserve orchids every day, sweetheart.”
Her cheeks flushed. She had seen this side of him only from a distance, the gallant, charming Chase Garrett that half the women in Dallas adored. She liked this side of him, but no more than the rugged, protective male he had been in Colombia. She took the orchid into the kitchen, put it in water, carried it back out and set it on the coffee table.
They headed for the same black stretch limo that had picked them up at the airport. The driver stood next to the open rear door. Tonight he was wearing a white dinner jacket.
“You remember Reggie,” Chase said.
The driver grinned and tipped his cap. “Good evening, Ms. Winston.”
“It’s nice to see you again, Reggie.”
He helped her into the back, and Chase slid onto the red leather seat beside her. Reggie climbed in behind the wheel and fired the engine. She settled back as he pulled the limo out onto the road for the thirty-minute ride to her father’s palatial sixteen-thousand-square-foot residence in Westlake, the most expensive neighborhood in Dallas.
