But he still had one hell of a job ahead of him, making good on his promise to Madeline Carlisle. How he’d keep an eye on Sloane and keep his hands off her at the same time was something even a monk would have difficulty accomplishing.
“Damn,” he muttered, this time out loud.
Pulling his truck in front of Samson’s house, he immediately saw the rental car with out-of-state plates. At least she’d had the sense to cover her tracks the best she could.
Shoving the gear into Park, he stepped out, intending to get inside and see what Sloane Carlisle wanted with Samson Humphrey. He wasn’t prepared to see Sloane running from the house or for the explosion that followed, knocking him briefly on his ass.
When the shock wore off, he stood and glanced up. Flames erupted from what remained of Samson’s place; at the same time, Sloane lifted herself from the ground a little ways in front of him on the front lawn.
Thank God she was okay. He exhaled hard, but his relief was short-lived. A little dog he hadn’t noticed before jumped from her arms to the grass and bolted toward the burning building.
“No!” Sloane screamed, and started back to the flames.
No way could he let her run back inside, so he lunged for her at the same time she dived for the pooch, and they both hit the ground hard.
* * *
Awareness came to Sloane more quickly than she’d imagined possible. A hard body covered hers while the whining sounds of the dog came from under her. She didn’t trust the pooch not to dart back into the burning house, so she lifted an arm to let him breathe, while still holding on to his collar.
“Are you okay?” a masculine voice asked. A sexy, familiar masculine voice.
A shiver, having nothing to do with the ordeal, rushed through her. “I think I’m in one piece.”
She had aches and bruises she’d need to assess, but for now she was alive and breathing, while the house she was just inside burned in the distance.
Without warning, she was pulled to a sitting position and came face-to-face with Chase.
Her one-night stand.
Impossible, she thought. “The house isn’t burning and you aren’t real.” She was off balance and confused, a state not helped by the high-pitched sound of sirens wailing in the distance.
“Unfortunately, this isn’t some damn dream.”
No, that sexy voice and serious face were all too real.
“Let’s get farther away from the house.” Chase helped her to her feet.
One step, and pain seared through her. She’d obviously twisted her ankle during her blind run from the house. Limping, she let him lead her away from the blaze, not saying a word.
He was good at that, she remembered, doing all the right things to her without asking permission. Despite the bruises and the adrenaline still pumping through her veins, she still remembered his touch vividly. Erotically. So much so, that this next tremor had everything to do with the man pulling her to safety.
She had to get control of herself and the situation, but since his order made sense, she wasn’t about to argue. She forced herself to walk on, ignoring the pain in her ankle that subsided by the time they reached an old willow tree.
She leaned against the cool bark and let herself slide to the ground. Chills racked her body and trembling kicked in. She wrapped her arms around herself, but the shaking grew worse. “So much for control,” she muttered.
Chase shot her a sideways, curious glance, but she wasn’t up to any kind of explanation.
“I need your belt.” Without asking, he unhooked her buckle and pulled the leather belt from the loops of her jeans.
She glanced down at his strong, competent hands. “I hardly think now’s the time or place for a quickie,” she said through chattering teeth. “And besides, I didn’t know you were into bondage.”
He paused, glanced up, and laughed.
The sexy light that she remembered in his eyes had returned.
“I knew you’d have a good sense of humor out of the bedroom,” Chase said, then refocused on his task. She watched intently, unable to tear her gaze from his sexy body or stop wondering why he was here.
* * *
Chase had to get the dog taken care of and out of the way. “Trust me,” he told Sloane. “Fooling around’s the last thing I have in mind.”
He lied. Fooling around was exactly what he wanted to do. With Sloane, now, beneath the shade of the old tree. Unfortunately, he didn’t have that luxury.
Quickly he finished looping the belt to a short, stubby bush near the tree, secured it, then managed to tie the old bandanna that had been used for the dog’s collar to the belt buckle. “There. He’s not going anywhere and he’s safe.”
She glanced down at the dog, who stared daggers at Chase for tying him up. Then Sloane met his gaze once more. “I’m impressed. I thought only Boy Scouts could tie knots like that.
He met her liquid gaze. A combination of surprise, fear, confusion, as well as a hint of remembrance, flickered across her face.
At least that was how he read her expression. “You of all people should know I’m no Boy Scout.”
“I don’t know anything about you. Except that you picked me up in a bar in D.C. and followed me here.”
“You’ve got it wrong, but I don’t have time to explain.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed and spoke to his brother Rick. The fire department might have pulled up to the house and the police wouldn’t be far behind, but Chase wanted his cop brother here now, apprised of who Sloane was and taking care of this mess.
He inhaled and glanced her way. Right now she was too stunned to ask how he’d found her and why, but she would. Soon. He knew this because he had questions too. Like why she’d been in that old house to begin with. Why would she search out an old eccentric like Samson?
He took in her shivering form and realized how close she’d come to dying. How close he’d come to losing her. Without thinking, he pulled her into his arms to give her warmth. When his lips touched hers, he knew that once again he had lied. He wanted her.
She tasted familiar. Sweet, welcoming, and all too eager to lose herself in him the way he needed to immerse himself in her. His tongue made broad, greedy sweeps around her mouth and she reciprocated with a soft moan, then tangled her tongue with his.
His body heated instantly and his surroundings disappeared. Everything came down to this one moment with this one woman.
He threaded his hands through her hair, pulling her close at the same time he heard a deliberate cough. “Excuse me, but did someone call the police?”
Sloane jumped out of Chase’s grasp and his surroundings returned.
Chase forced his gaze away from Sloane, who’d taken to kicking at the dirt on the ground. He met his middle brother’s curious stare. “Thanks for coming so quickly,” he said, and now that he’d come to his senses, he meant it.
“I’m part of Yorkshire Falls’ finest.” He grinned and tipped his head. “We aim to please.” He extended his hand toward Sloane. “Officer Rick Chandler,” he said, introducing himself.
She stopped grinding her toe in the dirt and looked up. “I’m Sloane—” She cut herself off. “I mean, I’m Faith. I …” She hesitated as if unsure which persona to use.
“Sloane Carlisle,” Chase supplied, and didn’t miss her shock upon realizing he knew her real identity. He had no option but the truth.