Chase Read Online Free PDF

blistering arguments or even a new shift in our stormy relationship. Darnley can be difficult when he wants – part of his appeal.
    In the light, art-filled spaces of his mansion I’m partway across the gleaming tropical hardwood parquet when something strikes me as out of place. One of the stunning artworks, a massive Lichtenstein and by chance one of my favourites, is tilted at a crazy angle in the hallway. Halfway up the stairs I see a scrap of filmy scarlet lace draped over the banister.
    I frown.
What’s going on?
    At the top of the stairs, reality shifts. Am I in the wrong house? Walking casually across the spacious entrance hall below me is a female, semi-naked and wet, towelling her hair with the corner of a bath-towel loosely draped round the rest of her. Her bare feet trail wet prints across a precious antique rug specially shipped from China.
    Through the open doorway on this floor I can hear a piercingly sweet aria by Mozart so I know he’s here somewhere. But the sight of the woman down there chills my blood.
    It’s that blonde.
    I stand very still as Darnley appears at the door to his sitting room. He looks casual, lithe, gorgeous
,
like he’s been freshly poured into the soft fabric of his costly tailoring. He could have stepped straight out of a commercial for fabulous, wealthy men. For men like him women wait in line, blondes especially.
    At the sight of me he stops short. The blonde is looking up at me, her face furrowed with an unappealing frown. She looks less than pleased I’m here.
    The feeling is mutual.
    ‘You again?’ With a flare of her nostrils she turns on one wet heel and disappears into some room on the left
.
    I descend the stairs. One look at Darnley’s beautiful, classical face and I firmly resolve not to allow my eyes to stray downwards over his muscular chest, his powerful thighs and further down.
    I fail spectacularly.
    He does just the opposite, feasting on me with his gaze, his look melting my will.
    ‘What’s happening?’ I glare at him, suppressing the urge to beat his chest with my fists. ‘You’re planning a threesome?’
    ‘With you in that?’ His eyes flicker. ‘No way.’
    ‘So who is she?’ I keep my voice low in case my outrage derails things before I can prise an explanation out of him.
    His lip curls. ‘What, you want me to introduce you? I thought you two knew each other.’ His sardonic tone is a shock. So is the slight flare to his nostrils, proof it’s real.
    Does he have any idea how close he is to sudden death? I take a step closer and raise my chin, keeping my voice low. ‘And why, precisely, should I know that?’
    He frowns, like something’s not quite adding up. ‘She was in your class.’ His tone hints both that it’s my fault and that this explains everything. ‘Consuela’s over here for a while. She’s under my personal protection.’ He breathes out slowly, summoning patience.
    ‘I thought I was under your personal protection.’ All at once my voice sounds husky. It’s a minor miracle I have a voice at all.
    I’m at a serious disadvantage here. She’s not only lissom and beautiful, she’s freshly showered and elegant in sexy satin. I’ve been working hard all day; I’m hot and tired and the hasty dab-wash I managed in the staff toilets did nothing to cool me down. I’ve no satin or scent to help me out, just kooky pigtails and too-tight, day-weary pedal-pushers.
    I’m defenceless – alone and unarmed.
    And as I stare at him, still not making any sense of all this, an awful possibility washes over me.
Is this it
?
Is this how it’s done?
Is this how he dumps me? Is this what happens when his mysterious love life ricochets from one dazzling beauty to another: skipping over the shy, awkward teacher-cum-poet he somehow got stuck with somewhere in between?
    Famously crap at relationships
: Ryan’s description. My ex should know. He was famously crap at them himself.
    Darnley’s expression is unreadable. I want to scream and