Chapter Fifteen

"Wow, this is stunning. I don't think I would ever get used to this view."

They were sitting at the corner table at Auberge de Soleil, high in the hil s of Napa Val ey, and Chase knew exactly what she meant. But it wasn't the view he'd never get used to admiring.

He couldn't manage to drag his eyes from his date.

The waiter came by and handed them each a glass of champagne. "Your brother, Marcus, wanted to let you both know that he hopes you enjoy your evening with us."

"I should have known he had eyes al over this mountain," Chase said with a crooked grin as he lifted his glass to Chloe. "The bastard probably won't even let me buy my girl dinner. Always trying to assert his older brother status." He grinned at her. "We'l just have to make sure we order the most expensive things on the menu."

Chloe shook her head, obviously stil surprised by his brother's gesture. "It must be so amazing to be from a big family. To know that they're always there for you."

He wanted to tel her that being with him meant the entire Sul ivan clan would take her in - and protect her - as one of their own. He wanted to give it to her as another reason why she never needed to be frightened again.

Instead, not wanting to break the spel , he said as cheerful y as he could, "Sometimes it's great.

Sometimes it's a pain in the ass. Now, if we could forget about Marcus and the rest of my siblings for a moment?"

She looked up at him, their eyes linking, sparking as she nodded. "Forgotten."

"Good. Because I want you to myself tonight."

"Tonight," she echoed, "I'm yours."

Warmth infused his chest - hel , his entire soul - just to hear her say those two words.

I'm yours.

Chase lifted his glass. "To rainy nights."

She tipped her flute against his, murmuring, "To rainy nights" in a husky voice.

He continued to hold his glass against hers. "And to one very lovely woman that a storm brought into my life."

Her eyes were glassy as she put her flute to her lovely lips and took a sip.

"You know," she said a while later, after eating some of the best food she'd ever tasted, "this just might be the most romantic dinner date I've ever been on."     "I figured you and I were long due for a little romance."

Chloe cocked her head as she looked at Chase. Real y let herself look.

At first, she'd been too blown away by his outward beauty to real y see much. And then, she'd been afraid to stare because of what she might see in his eyes when he looked at her...and what he might see mirrored right back at him.

How could he not see that he'd been romancing her every single second since he strode out to her on that rainy road and told her to get into his car?

She smiled at the memory of that first night. How she'd wanted him despite herself - and liked him a great, great deal more than caution warranted.

She let herself pretend, for just a few moments, that this real y was her life. That Chase was the man she'd been with for years. That they went on romantic outings to Napa Val ey starred restaurants al the time.

And that she was happy, not just for one night. But always.

Because she was loved.

Real y and truly loved for who she was.

"It's another reason why your photos are al so beautiful," she found herself saying to him. "You aren't just creating the fantasy for al of us. You want to believe in that fantasy, too, don't you? I swear, your whole life you must have had to fend off women with big, long sticks."

He gave her his best version of lecherous. "Just one real y big stick."

She couldn't help but laugh. "I set you up perfectly for that, didn't I?"

The waiter came to refil their water glasses just as she asked, "Are the rest of your brothers like you? Big and tough on the outside, but gentle romantics on the inside?"

As the waiter left, Chase pretended she'd just wounded him, his hand over his chest. "I once picked up a novel on my sister's bed that used the words velvet-covered steel to talk about the guy's junk. I'm pretty sure what you just said reduced me to a velvet-covered marshmal ow. Our waiter may never look at me the same way again. He's probably cal ing the club now so they can kick me out of it."

Chloe laughed again, loud enough that a few heads turned to admire the beautiful couple in the corner. "Being a nice person doesn't in any way change the fact that you're al man."

"That statement would have had a heck of a lot more impact if you weren't half-giggling as you said it," he informed her, half-joking, half-serious.

Stil giggling, she said, "Sorry. Although, I'm not sure I'l ever be able to get the words velvet-covered marshmal ow - or the image of it - out of my head."

"I plan on making damn sure they're gone later tonight," he promised, heat flickering in his eyes along with the laughter.

"So, back to your family. Are any of your other big, strapping brothers closet romantics?"

She couldn't help it - she loved hearing about his brothers and sisters, imagining how nice it would be to always know that they were there for you.

To laugh with. To joke with. Even to argue with.

"It wil just be our little secret."

Chase shook his head. "I'm pretty sure screwing anything that moves doesn't qualify as romantic. Apart from Marcus. He's the only one who doesn't play that way anymore, although he definitely used to before he met his girlfriend."

"Screwing anything that moves." Chloe worked to tamp down on the sudden twisting in her gut and tried to keep her voice light. "As long as everyone knows the score, I guess that's okay."

But Chase instantly saw through her. "I'm not going to lie to you. I used to be one of those guys."

She swal owed, hating the thought of Chase so much as looking at another woman. Kissing another woman. Touching another woman. Making love to another woman.

Her stomach lurched and she abruptly put down her fork. "Okay. Thanks for being honest."

He reached across the table, taking her hand in his. "I don't want to do it anymore. I don't want to be that guy anymore."

She wanted so desperately to believe him. But she knew first-hand that it wasn't that easy. "But isn't it exactly what you've been doing with me?"

"No."

"Yes," she countered. "We met, I moved, we had sex."

"You're different, Chloe. You're special."

Angry at herself for how badly she wanted the fairytale to come true, she said, "How can you possibly know that? In the four days since we met, you and I have had sex nearly every moment that we've been alone. That fits the criteria pretty perfectly, doesn't it? Odds are pretty darn high that you'l move on to your next shoot and find another woman who can't get enough of you."

She could see that flicker of frustration on his face. The same one that had him taking her up against the front door a couple of hours ago.

Why did she keep pushing him like this? Why couldn't she just accept that he meant what he said about her?

But she knew why, knew that deep down she was afraid she was the same twenty-two-year-old girl who had fal en for her ex's lines, his pretty words, for a warmth she'd so desperately wanted to believe was there...and ended up marrying a man who didn't know - or like her - at al .

Chloe didn't know what she expected Chase to say, if she'd thought he would drag her into the back of the restaurant to teach her another lesson about just how good they were together, but she definitely didn't expect him to reach into his jacket pocket, pul out an envelope, and put it on the table.

She looked at it, then up at him just as he said, "I didn't fal in love with you because you're so lovely it hurts to look at you. I didn't fal in love with you because you make love like a dream. Al of that is just a bonus."

She swal owed hard. Those three sentences had just made the top ten things any man had ever said to her.

Her hands trembled as she picked up the envelope.

She could tel there were pictures inside it. And she was afraid to look at them.

Not because she was worried about not looking pretty...but because she'd learned over the past few days that Chase saw everything.

Especial y the things people were trying their hardest to hide.

Final y, she slipped a finger beneath the flap and pul ed out the smal stack of photos.

She was laughing in the photo on top of the stack. Her mouth was wide open, her head was thrown back as she looked at something on Amanda's phone.

"She was showing me one of those funny auto-correct lists. A woman had texted her husband

'I'm pregnant' and he wrote back 'I'm leaving you' when what he meant to say was 'I'm leaving now'

because he wanted to come home and celebrate with her."

Tentatively, Chloe turned to the next photo. She was laughing again, this time in the middle of the pool, after fal ing in while trying to help fix Amanda's hat at just the right angle.

A smile moved onto her lips before she realized it was coming. "I had such a great time with everyone," she said softly before turning to the next photo.

Chase had captured her talking with Marcus that night at the party at his house. She'd been loose because of the wine and had let down her guard with Marcus after a surprisingly fun day with everyone. It was obvious just how desperate she'd been to let happiness take root within her heart again.

Thrown off by what Chase was showing her about herself, she moved on to the next picture, one where she was packing up dresses and a half-dozen beautiful fabrics were spread out across her lap.

She'd never seen herself look like that, had never see herself dreaming before.

Emotion threatened to swamp her, so she quickly moved to the next picture in the stack.

Oh.

If only she'd stopped with the fabrics, with the dreaming, with the desperate longing for happiness.

The final picture was from that first afternoon out in the vineyards, when she'd looked up at the end of the day and Chase had his lens pointed at her. She remembered the terror of knowing she hadn't hid her feelings for him. Feelings she hadn't even been able to understand because they were so raw, so new.

So pure.

"Ask me again how I know you're special, Chloe."

The pictures dropped from her fingers onto the table.

She didn't need to ask.

Chase had shifted his seat so that he was sitting close enough to hold her hand beneath the tablecloth.

"Thank you," she said softly, her throat clogged with emotion. "It's been a wonderful night."

She licked her lips, squeezed his hand with hers. "A perfect night."

Oh God, she was going to cry, could feel the tears building up, threatening to spil . Al it would take was one sweet word, one heartfelt look, and she'd be a goner.

She was working so hard on holding those tears back that she didn't notice Chase standing up until she felt him gently tugging at her hand. Blinking up at him in confusion, she rose to her feet and let him lead her across the room, his hand on the smal of her back, simultaneously comforting and arousing. He pul ed her into his arms and they were dancing to the song the three-piece jazz band in the corner had just begun playing.

The Look of Love.

Chloe lifted her face to his in surprise. "This song." She flicked a gaze at the band, then back at him, shaking her head. "It's almost like they know about - "

Her voice broke before she could finish the sentence. But she had to. Had to admit it to herself.

To Chase.

Her voice so soft she didn't know if Chase would even be able to hear her, she whispered, "It's like they know about the way you look at me. About the way you've always looked at me."

And, she now knew from seeing that picture he'd taken of her in the vineyard that first night, it was the way she'd always looked at him, too.

With love.

And with his large, strong body cradling hers, with his heart pounding against hers, Chloe pressed her face into his shoulder...and final y let her tears come.

Chase had never felt like this before, like his heart was breaking one beat at a time as Chloe softly cried while they danced.     He wanted to give her everything. He wanted to slay al her dragons. He wanted to hold her close and never let her go. He'd told her he loved her, but he knew she stil believed she needed to leave him to prove that she was a strong person.

She'd told him the night was perfect, but she was crying.

His whole life, he'd always known exactly what to do. Women hadn't been much of a chal enge, but now he knew that was because he'd never real y cared before.

Until he'd fal en in love with Chloe.

Chase wished there was a simple answer, wished he could convince himself it was as easy as taking her ex-husband apart for ever hurting her in the first place, and that once he dissolved the threat to Chloe's wel -being, everything would be fine.

But how many times had he and his brothers gone out to avenge a wrong against one of his sisters, only to end up the bad guy, only to have them cry, "I'm not a baby! When are you going to let me stand up for myself?"

How the hel was Chase going to let her go and do what she believed she needed to do?

And how much would she hate him if he couldn't do it?