The Ivy House - By Drea Stein Page 0,55

hers.

“Thank you,” she managed to whisper. She could see the stubble on his face and the way his eyes darkened when he looked at her. “I had a nice time,” she managed to stammer.

“A nice time?” he said with mock hurt. “Two of those whatchamacallem—topiary urns—for fifty bucks and you call that a nice time?”

She smiled and he caught her chin with his hand. She closed her eyes, overwhelmed, and when she opened them, she saw that he was looking at her intensely, his eyes searching, pinning her down.

Phoebe couldn’t—wouldn’t—let this happen. Chase was dangerous for her. She wanted him too much. And lust was never as simple as it was made out to be. Today, though, had been fun. It had only shown that he considered business, even if it was bargain hunting at a flea market, a blood sport. And that was all she was to him. Something to acquire.

He moved in and Phoebe felt the warm, smooth metal of the car beneath the small of her back. His chest was so close to her, she could feel the heat of it, sense the solid wall of muscle that was beneath his shirt.

Chase moved in closer, his lips hovering above hers. Before she could say anything, his lips trailed along her jaw and she felt her knees weaken. How could he make her feel this helpless, this wanted with just the lightest touch?

His leg nudged in between hers and she felt the strong, smooth strength of them, felt his arousal, and his lips found hers and she opened herself up to his kiss. Her hands came up to his neck and pulled him into her.

She didn’t know if they stayed that way for a minute or five or fifty. She only knew that their mouths and tongues explored each other, each nibble and kiss and reaction matched the other’s, until Phoebe felt as if she were melting, that if she did not have his warm, strong hands all over her, she would combust. Then, she felt something else.

Something that purred and then vibrated, then rang and pierced their consciousness. Swearing, Chase pushed back from her, dug in his jacket until he found his phone. Not taking his eyes off her, he answered it with a terse “Yes.”

Phoebe waited for her heartbeat to slow, for her heart to find its way back into her chest, for her knees to stiffen up. She looked down at the ground to find time to recover, let her hands smooth her ponytail back into place, all the while feeling her breathing grow more regular.

Chase put the phone back in her pocket.

“I have to go. Something’s come up.” He was looking at her intently, his eyes roaming over her like he wanted to possess her.

Quickly, he walked to the trunk, popped it, and took out the bags with her purchases. He placed them carefully on the side of the drive, and then he strode over to her, pulled her to him, and kissed her again, a hard, passionate, bruising kiss.

“Interrupted again, Phoebe. But I will be back. And don’t try to tell me you don’t want this any less than I do.”

And with that he flashed his playboy grin, slung himself into the car and was off, the tires sending up a small trail of dust that settled slowly back to the ground.

Phoebe managed to make it to the first step of the porch before she collapsed on it, her mind spinning. What was she thinking, letting him kiss her like that? Again. Once she could understand, but she couldn’t make a habit of kissing Chase Sanders. Of course, it was just lust, had to be.

Phoebe took a deep breath and heard the cry of a hawk, saw it circling overhead, looking for its dinner. Savannah had told her, warned her that men would use her, try to use Phoebe to get to Savannah. But Savannah was gone. And here was Chase Sanders, using all of his playboy charm on her, getting her to relax and like him, winning her over with five-dollar salt-and-pepper shakers, charming her pants off or trying to at least.

She leaned her head against the column of the porch railing, sighing. Because just a few minutes ago, she would have given a damn about history and been perfectly ready to have her pants—and just about everything else—charmed right off her.

Chapter 24

Chase had to take care of a manufacturing problem. It meant most of the night on the phone with a