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The reason, plain and simple, was Annie.

How was he supposed to get through the night trapped in this room with her?

Chase told himself he ought to be ashamed for his lecherous thoughts. Not that they were his fault. It was Annie who was to blame.

Damn. Oh damn. Why couldn’t he admit the truth? There was no way to lay this off on Annie. She hadn’t planted these pictures in his head. She couldn’t possibly know he was sitting here with an aching back and a sizzling libido. She was sound asleep. He could tell by the soft, steady whisper of her breath. If he’d been having raunchy dreams—and he had—it was nobody’s fault but his own.

One dream, in particular, had been very real.

It had started with him sitting right here, in this chair, when he’d heard Annie sigh his name.

Chase, she’d said, and suddenly moonlight had streamed into the room, casting an ivory glow on the bed.

Annie had sat up and opened her arms to him.

Chase, she’d whispered, why are you sitting over there? Come to bed, darling, with me, where you belong.

Chase rubbed his hands over his eyes.

“Give us a break, Cooper,” he muttered. “What are you, a pimply-faced kid?”

A grown man could share a room with a woman for the night without coming unglued, especially when she was the very woman he’d divorced five long years ago. He could get through twenty-four hours without letting himself think he’d fallen for her all over again because the truth was, he hadn’t.

Of course he hadn’t.

It was just the pressure of the last few days, that was all. Things were catching up. The wedding. Dawn’s running away. His emotional and physical exhaustion. Taken all together, it was a prescription for disaster.

Then, too, his ex was still a very attractive woman. His type of woman, which was only logical considering that he’d been married to her, once upon a time. But he’d also left her, or they’d left each other, to be exact, and for very good reasons.

Chase sat back carefully in the rocker.

So, okay, she could still push all the right buttons. And yeah, his stupid male hormones were still programmed to make his equally stupid male anatomy straighten up and salute. That didn’t mean he had to sit here having thoughts that were beginning to make going out into the rain for an impromptu shower seem like a pretty good idea.

He had to concentrate on the reality of the situation. Annie was in love with another man, and if he wasn’t actually feeling the same way about Janet, well, he could. He would. It was just a matter of letting it happen. And then the story of Annie and Chase would be over, once and for all.

Dawn was a big girl now. She’d understand that life wasn’t a fairy tale that ended with the words, “And they lived happily ever after.”

Chase sighed. He felt better already. There’d be no more dreams tonight. Why, even if that last silly dream were to come true, if Annie were to suddenly stir and whisper his name, he wouldn’t—

“Chase?”

Annie’s voice, as soft and sweet as an early June morning, turned that firm conviction into an instant lie.

“Chase? Are you awake?”

Was he awake? He couldn’t imagine why she had to ask. Couldn’t she hear the thunder of his heart?

He heard the rustle of the bed linens as she turned toward him. Her face was a pale, perfect oval; her eyes were wide and gleaming. Her hair curled around her face and neck, falling in a gentle curve to her shoulder.

How he’d always loved to kiss her there, in the satin-softness of that curve.

Chase cleared his throat. “Hi,” he said. “Sorry if I woke you.”

Annie shook her head. “You didn’t. Not really. I had a silly dream—”

She broke off in the middle of what she’d been about to say, grateful for the lack of light in the room because it meant Chase couldn’t see the blush she knew was spreading over her face. It was bad enough she’d had the dream in the first place. She certainly wasn’t going to describe it to him.

Why would any woman in her right mind tell her ex-husband about an erotic dream—especially when she, and he, had been its stars?

“What dream?”

“I don’t remember.”

“But you just said—”

“What’s that I hear? Rain?”

Annie sat up against the pillows and drew the blanket up to her chin. Her arms and shoulders were bare. Chase’s heart lifted into his throat. Was she naked under that blanket?

“Yes,” he said in a voice that sounded more like a croak but hey, a man had to be happy for what he could manage and right now, managing even that much was a miracle.

Annie sighed. “Mmm. It sounds wonderful, doesn’t it? It makes it seem so cozy in here.”


Tags: Sandra Marton Billionaire Romance