Page 11 of Body

How odd. Chase had his driver, bodyguard, whatever he is, wait for me and ensure that I text him about a meeting that’s less than three hours away. Looks like Mr. Chairman of the Board has a few insecurities of his own. The thought makes me feel a little better, but not by much.

I open my contacts and find him. Of course the mob boss entered Chase’s information in perfect text, appropriate capitalization on the C and D. He added his cell, business, and home numbers. He also provided his email. I guess that leaves no possible reason for me not to reach him in one format or another.

I pull together a quick text.

To: Chase Davis

From: Gillian Callahan

Your linebacker expressed your wishes. I’ll meet you.

Immediately I receive a reply.

To: Gillian Callahan

From: Chase Davis

I’ll be waiting.

The thought of what will likely take place tonight makes my stomach feel tight and fluttery. Anxiety swirls and festers, pricking my skin as if I was getting acupuncture. I want this man. Really want him.

In my bed. In my body. In every way possible.

I’m torn. A man has never made me feel this high or want to fall so hard. Chase brings out desire in me so fierce I can barely avoid its burn. After the conference room escapade, I know we’ll set the sheets ablaze.I want you in my bed,he’d said. That one sentence has me twitching with longing and impatience. His need for me makes me want to weep in frustration. Regardless of how bad it will look if people find out, I’ve got to have him.

Lord help me, I’m about to make one beautiful mistake.

Chapter 4

Three hours have passed since the dry hump against a wall with the sexiest man alive. Three whole hours to find every excuse possible to prove that Chase Davis is a bad idea, probably fatal to my career.

Yes, he’s unbelievably gorgeous, with kisses that make me weak in the knees. He can bring me from zero to sixty with an intense gaze across a crowded room. How many men have the capability of doing that to a woman?

Attraction aside, I won’t ruin my chances for success with the Foundation. Years ago, Safe Haven scraped me off the floor, brought me back from the dead and gave me life. After Justin, I cannot afford to let my life get off track.

Justin.Deep utter revulsion at the thought of that name makes me queasy. Taking a few deep breaths I count to ten. Slowly, the swill of disgusting thoughts of Justin leaves, readying me to let down a man whose body was crafted by angels. Chase is definitely a catch. Doesn’t matter. This girl is throwing this particular fish back into the sea of distracting beautiful men.

Chase could have any woman he wants. With that face and wallet, he could point and click the perfect woman and she’d appear. I’m nobody special. Besides, from what I found online, he’s had several perfect pieces of arm candy in the past year alone. Lengthy, model thin beauties, perfect trophy material for a man like Chase. My Google Kungfu is dead on. Besides, I’m not even his type. He likes perfectly tan, statuesque blondes, not pale curvy redheads.

With my decision made, I walk briskly towards the glass double doors leading outside the hotel. The wind whips my hair and I clutch my blazer tightly to ward off the chill. Like a shiny black ghost, a sleek, pitch black stretch limousine parks in front of me. Wow. Hadn’t expected that. I’ve never ridden in a limo before. The little girl in me wants to squeal with delight.

“Miss Callahan, Mr. Davis is expecting you.” Jack holds the car door open. I slide along the smooth leather seat. It’s cool against the skin of my palm. The interior is lush. Cherry wood panels span one side, hosting an array of glass tumblers and amber colored liquids in crystal decanters. Jack drops his huge form into the driver’s seat. “Feel free to have a drink.”

“No, thank you.” I lean back into the supple leather, resting my eyes as he turns out onto the busy street.

Downtown Chicago is alight with the sounds of the city. People mill along the concrete streets, taking advantage of the hodgepodge of stores mixed in with restaurants. We pass an elevated train, sitting high above the ground a couple stories up. I’ve heard of the “L”, but never seen it in person. The skyscrapers spanning the city jut up into the sky in varying shapes and sizes, reminding me of stacked Legos. San Francisco seems relatively sleepy compared to this eclectic mix of modern and old-school. Most of the people who live in San Francisco are commuters who work in a city they can’t afford to live in. By six, it is a ghost town, everyone having gone back to their Bay Area or Valley residences. Here, the city is alive and thrumming, matching my rapid pulse as we near our destination.

“Where are we going?” I ask my quiet companion.

“Mr. Davis has requested your presence at the Sky Lounge, one of his bars. We will be there in less than five minutes.” His driver, someone Chase claims to be a friend, is not the friendliest guy. I guess that’s part of his job. He’s supposed to be as scary as hell so that no one messes with his charge.

Am I supposed to sit quietly and let him drive Miss Daisy? Or is he supposed to keep me company? My natural inclination is to talk, and I’d like to find out more about his boss. Hell,myboss.

“How long have you worked for Mr. Davis?”

“Five years, but I’ve known him his entire life.” He frowns. I don’t think he meant to share that last bit.

“Oh, really?” I’m confident now that I’ll get a sneak peek into the enigmatic man.

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