Page 16 of One Hot Chase

"I never worry, Derek. You know that."

He winks at her. "Sorry. I almost forgot you're tough as nails."

In the hallway, Derek shrugs into a jacket that looks designer to me. I bet his wife bought that for him. Derek doesn't strike me as the type to splurge on high-end fashion. Instead of leading me through the front entrance, he steers me toward the back of the house and out into the crowded parking lot behind it. The London neighborhood features upscale houses packed closely together. Despite the tight quarters, it's undeniably beautiful here.

Derek uses his key fob to unlock the passenger door of his luxury car. Then he offers me his hand to help me inside.

Sir Declan never offered to do that for me, but then again, I ran away before he had the chance to be chivalrous. Not that I believe for even a nanosecond that he would've done that.

As we ride in style in a super-expensive Jaguar sedan, I take in the scenery as we leave central London behind and pass through opulent neighborhoods where the richest people in London live. I crane my neck to get a glimpse of the lavish mansions and extravagant cars as we zoom down the streets.

"Where are we headed?" I ask, sinking back into my seat.

"Straight to Declan's flat in Knightsbridge," Derek replies, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. "A flat is what they call an apartment here."

"Yeah, I know. Spencer told me all about England and his British friends."

Derek deftly navigates around a corner, using only one hand. "I heard they might throw a wild party for Tabitha and Spencer's wedding."

"Tabby and Spence would rather keep it simple."

Derek turns onto a narrow street. "We're almost there. Are you ready to face Declan?"

"I don't want a confrontation. I just want him to stop stalking me."

"Understood."

Luckily, Derek finds a parking spot near Declan's apartment building, so we won't have far to walk. I'm worn out from arguing with that jerk. The building itself is stunning, a mix of modern and traditional design. We climb a few steps to reach the entrance, then ride an elevator---a lift, as Brits call it---to get up to Declan's fancy bachelor pad. Derek presses the doorbell.

Seconds later, the door swings open, and Declan greets me with a smirk. "Now who's stalking whom, darling? I imagine you brought your mate as a witness to my alleged depravity."

"Careful," Derek warns, his gaze flinty. "You don't want to tick off a bodyguard. Sabrina is under my protection until I determine whether or not you can be trusted. My wife knows you and vouches for your character, but I need to see the proof for myself."

Declan's brows shoot up. "Your wife? Who the bloody hell are you?"

"I'm Derek Hahn. Diana Sangster is my wife, though she goes by Diana Hahn these days."

"Oh. Well, that explains a few things. Diana has been a strong supporter of my charitable endeavors, but I didn't know she had finally tied the knot."

I can't resist jumping into the conversation. "How could you not know that Diana got married? I thought she was famous in London."

Declan studies me with interest. "Sorry, I don't keep up with gossip these days. Lost my appetite for it." He shoots a quick glance at Derek, then smirks again. "Will your bodyguard be following you around permanently? Or is this strictly a 'let the bodyguard try to frighten Declan' sort of visit?"

"I can't imagine you would ever be afraid."

His eyes widen briefly. Then he crosses his arms over his chest and releases a heavy sigh. "I promise not to stalk, bother, or otherwise annoy Sabrina Remington unless she does so first. Now, may we have a private conversation without a chaperone? I will allow you to restrain me if that will make you feel better."

I can't tell if he's serious or if he's mocking me. But for some strange reason, I want to talk to Declan alone. So, I turn to Derek and say, "Thank you for all your help. I can handle Declan on my own now."

Derek nods crisply, then gives Declan's hand a strong shake. My bodyguard warns him not to make me cry, or else he'll come back just to beat up Sir Declan. Derek turns to leave the apartment, and the door clicks shut behind him.

Now I am alone with the jackass.

I allow my gaze to wander over his entire body, though I know I shouldn't. He might get the wrong idea if he notices me checking him out. My appraisal begins at his feet as I take in his fancy leather shoes and crisp white socks. Slowly, my attention travels upwards. I admire his designer clothes that he seems to always wear. His pants tightly hug his thighs, which I know are strong and powerful thanks to our liaison last night. Then my gaze move on to his muscular biceps and broad shoulders.

Damn, he's hot.

Every time we'd met, he'd left the top two buttons of his shirt undone, no matter what he was wearing. The glimpse of dark hair poking out reminds me of last night when I was kissing and nuzzling his chest. He smelled so good that I wanted more. But Declan is an alpha male, for sure, and he took command of our sexual encounters.

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