The Chase: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

face-to-face with Ian Marshall. “Good God!” she cried, her hand on her palpitating heart.
    “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, clearly as stunned as she was. “I didn’t mean to scare you—you surprised me, too.”
    Claire’s pulse slowed, returning to normal. He smiled at her. “Tough night, huh?” He glanced at the sandals with their precarious heels and tiny straps, then his gaze sharpened, moving quickly back to her face.
    But Claire could only stare at him, recovering some of her surprise. What was he doing upstairs? She smiled a little. “It’s insanity, isn’t it? What a woman does for glamour.”
    “Not really. That dress is a knockout.”
    Claire’s heart leaped at his words.
    “But I’d bet anything you look great in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt,” he went on. Then his smile faded. “What’s wrong, Claire?”
    She did not move. “What are you doing up here, Ian?”
    His gaze moved over her features slowly. His smile faded a bit as he understood. “I’m not snooping, Claire. Someone was in the powder room downstairs, and the staff directed me to the guest bathroom up here.”
    Claire shook her head. “There’s another bathroom in the den.”
    “It was also occupied.”
    She met his gaze. “I see.” She was relieved—but of course, what had she been thinking? He was too nice to have been snooping around her home. “What do you do, Ian?” she asked curiously, leaning against the wall.
    “I’m a consultant. Generally for firms who do business in Europe or the Middle East. In fact, I just got back from Tel Aviv a few days ago.”
    Claire nodded; that hardly gave her a clue as to what his profession was.
    He touched her bare arm briefly. “You seem tired. Are you calling it a night?”
    Claire shivered and looked up at him. The urge to ask him to drive down to his friend’s yacht suddenly overcame her. The evening had been a hard one. She hadn’t had a single chance to relax. It would be relaxing, even fun, to sit with this man and sip champagne in a place of peace and quiet. Of course, it was an impossible and forbidden notion. “I wish I could. There’s still a good two dozen guests downstairs.”
    “They’re pretty happy down there. I don’t think anyone would know if you slipped off to bed.”
    Claire knew he hadn’t been making an innuendo, but the word “bed” made her flush, and she thought—but wasn’t sure—he was thinking the same thing. Claire was aware of being a pretty woman. She knew Ian found her attractive. With her marriage in its death throes, she felt vulnerable and even afraid of herself.
    But she would never cross any inappropriate lines until she was divorced.
    She swallowed. “Did you have a good time tonight?”
    “Yes, I did. And thank you for asking.”
    “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” she said fiercely, meaning it.
    This time he didn’t speak. He just smiled at her, as if he did not want to end the moment.
    Claire felt herself blush again. It was time to go, and there were no ifs, ands, or buts about it.
    His gaze wandered over her, lingering on her dangling sandals. “David is a very lucky man.”
    “Are you flirting with me?” She smiled because he was, and she needed it.
    “Is it a crime? You’re blushing, Claire. It’s nice.”
    “It’s nice to have a nice man flirting with me,” she said honestly.
    His eyes widened. “It must happen all the time!” he exclaimed.
    “Not really,” she said.
    He shook his head. “Go figure.”
    Claire laughed. It was her first real laugh of the evening.
    He smiled. “You even have a nice laugh.” His smile vanished. “I had better go.” He gave her a long look.
    Claire tensed, certain she knew what the look meant. He was being swept away by their flirtation, too. And he did not trust himself, just as she did not trust herself.
    As they stood there, sounds drifted up from outside, coming around from the front of the house. Good-byes. Car doors slamming. Engines revving.
    “Good