clear it. "Why don't you just ride with her too?"
"I think they have some business they want to wrap up," he said, tilting his head in their direction. "I was just trying to save you some hard feelings."
Sure enough, Carl was reaching into his faux-battered knapsack. Would he really pull out an agency contract here in front of her?
"Carl Cash!" She sputtered. "Of all the underhanded, low—"
"Hold your horses, little lady," he drawled. "I'm just showing her pictures from my last ski trip."
"I bet you are," she hissed.
"Now, now," Chase said. He pushed his chair back and stood, offering her his hand. He seemed steady on his feet despite the amount of alcohol he'd consumed. "It's been a long day. We're all pretty tired."
She glared at his outstretched hand, knowing he had her. If she insisted on staying, she'd come off as pushy. And as long as Carl wasn't actually offering Sherry a contract on the spot, Regina couldn't really blame him for entertaining her. "You'll get her home safely?" she said stiffly in Carl's direction. "Not too late? She has work tomorrow."
"Yes, Mom," Carl said, rolling his eyes, winning a giggle from Sherry.
Regina said her stilted good-byes and slipped her hand into Chase's. It was warm and firm, and he took her hand and tucked it in the crook of his arm and led her to the door. She caught the admiring glances of the few remaining diners, oil executives by the look of them, men in suits and sport jackets. Chase didn't pay them a lick of attention.
He wasn't the kind of man to be intimidated by other men, Regina observed to herself. Which was a fine quality... but it still didn't make up for—
He opened the door for her and they stepped into the chill evening air.
"What was that!" she demanded, shivering.
"Jeez, woman, take my jacket." Chase shrugged out of his blazer and helped her into it. She was too cold to protest—and the heat trapped by the light wool fabric felt delicious against her skin. Under the jacket, he was wearing a fine gray shirt that was a little tight across his shoulders, showing off the outline of the muscles underneath. He caught her looking. "I borrowed these clothes," he said with a trace of embarrassment. "Zane is about my size. So what are you so mad about?"
Some of the anger drained out of her. The poor guy didn't even own a decent jacket. Still, that didn't make up for him practically making love to her at the table.
"Your foot . On my—my leg ."
He grabbed her hand and started leading her across the parking lot. "Where'd you park?"
"It's—uh—" In the dark, all the cars looked alike, and she didn't remember much about her rental car other than it was silver. But since most of the vehicles in the lot were trucks and four-wheel-drive SUVs favored by the oilmen, it wasn't hard to spot it. "Over here. But don't change the subject."
He led her to the car, and then he maneuvered her against the driver's side, putting one hand on the roof of the car only inches from her shoulder. She didn't feel trapped or threatened so much as... pinned. Deliciously, wantonly pinned. Nervously, she licked her lip—still feeling the place where he'd touched her earlier—as she imagined his other hand closing the gap on the other side, the feeling of his body pressing up against her as he kissed her.
But he stayed where he was. All she had to do was step out of the way. Or slap him. Or any number of things to show her displeasure at the way he'd—
"You touched me."
"You touched me ," he said, and suddenly all the humor drained from his voice. "And then you kissed me."
* * *
"I—I—" Regina looked like she wanted to argue with him, but that wasn't the sort of a kiss any human being would be able to forget.
"You kissed me like you meant it," he continued, no longer able to quell the anger that had been simmering inside him since she stalked off down the path at the ranch. "Now I'm not some teenage boy with his heart on the line, but I still don't care
"I think they have some business they want to wrap up," he said, tilting his head in their direction. "I was just trying to save you some hard feelings."
Sure enough, Carl was reaching into his faux-battered knapsack. Would he really pull out an agency contract here in front of her?
"Carl Cash!" She sputtered. "Of all the underhanded, low—"
"Hold your horses, little lady," he drawled. "I'm just showing her pictures from my last ski trip."
"I bet you are," she hissed.
"Now, now," Chase said. He pushed his chair back and stood, offering her his hand. He seemed steady on his feet despite the amount of alcohol he'd consumed. "It's been a long day. We're all pretty tired."
She glared at his outstretched hand, knowing he had her. If she insisted on staying, she'd come off as pushy. And as long as Carl wasn't actually offering Sherry a contract on the spot, Regina couldn't really blame him for entertaining her. "You'll get her home safely?" she said stiffly in Carl's direction. "Not too late? She has work tomorrow."
"Yes, Mom," Carl said, rolling his eyes, winning a giggle from Sherry.
Regina said her stilted good-byes and slipped her hand into Chase's. It was warm and firm, and he took her hand and tucked it in the crook of his arm and led her to the door. She caught the admiring glances of the few remaining diners, oil executives by the look of them, men in suits and sport jackets. Chase didn't pay them a lick of attention.
He wasn't the kind of man to be intimidated by other men, Regina observed to herself. Which was a fine quality... but it still didn't make up for—
He opened the door for her and they stepped into the chill evening air.
"What was that!" she demanded, shivering.
"Jeez, woman, take my jacket." Chase shrugged out of his blazer and helped her into it. She was too cold to protest—and the heat trapped by the light wool fabric felt delicious against her skin. Under the jacket, he was wearing a fine gray shirt that was a little tight across his shoulders, showing off the outline of the muscles underneath. He caught her looking. "I borrowed these clothes," he said with a trace of embarrassment. "Zane is about my size. So what are you so mad about?"
Some of the anger drained out of her. The poor guy didn't even own a decent jacket. Still, that didn't make up for him practically making love to her at the table.
"Your foot . On my—my leg ."
He grabbed her hand and started leading her across the parking lot. "Where'd you park?"
"It's—uh—" In the dark, all the cars looked alike, and she didn't remember much about her rental car other than it was silver. But since most of the vehicles in the lot were trucks and four-wheel-drive SUVs favored by the oilmen, it wasn't hard to spot it. "Over here. But don't change the subject."
He led her to the car, and then he maneuvered her against the driver's side, putting one hand on the roof of the car only inches from her shoulder. She didn't feel trapped or threatened so much as... pinned. Deliciously, wantonly pinned. Nervously, she licked her lip—still feeling the place where he'd touched her earlier—as she imagined his other hand closing the gap on the other side, the feeling of his body pressing up against her as he kissed her.
But he stayed where he was. All she had to do was step out of the way. Or slap him. Or any number of things to show her displeasure at the way he'd—
"You touched me."
"You touched me ," he said, and suddenly all the humor drained from his voice. "And then you kissed me."
* * *
"I—I—" Regina looked like she wanted to argue with him, but that wasn't the sort of a kiss any human being would be able to forget.
"You kissed me like you meant it," he continued, no longer able to quell the anger that had been simmering inside him since she stalked off down the path at the ranch. "Now I'm not some teenage boy with his heart on the line, but I still don't care
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