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"She's going to make us late," he whispered to his son. "Do you think your mom's ready yet?"
"I am."
Chase looked up, his features pulling tight. Oh, God, he thought. How was he supposed to ignore that! Hell, he knew Tessa was beautiful. And he always saw her in sort of a dainty and seductive way. But this? This was eye-popping glamour. Electric blue crimped silk framed her face like a hood, almost as if the stiff fabric never touched her hair, her skin. It rippled crisply at her throat to offer only a glimpse of golden skin, the airy folds wrapped like a robe and hiding her curves. A satin sash roped her trim waist and she clutched a beaded bag, the frothy cuffs shielding most of her hands. It was captivating and mysterious and Chase's gaze dropped to her legs shimmering in stockings and her tiny feet in matching shoes. He wondered what the hell she had on under it. Yet her hair, styled in a chignon, the wisps falling loosely around her face, brought his attention, any man's attention, to her striking green eyes.
She looked like a chic black cat in a cocoon of blue.
She evoked sex. Pure and raw, and Chase felt the reaction down to his ankles. He didn't even feel Celeste take his son until he was gone. Chase kissed his boy one last time, then nodded to Tessa.
"Ready?"
"Yes. Definitely."
A spear of regret drove into his chest. She was ready to get this over with, he thought, wrapping himself in his hurt.
"Shall we?" she prompted, and Chase frowned into her smile.
Tessa felt her spirits lift a tiny fraction. He couldn't mask his desire for her even if he despised her. She kissed her son, gave last-minute instructions, then proceeded out the door.
Chase was a few steps behind her, watching her walk and telling himself he shouldn't be so intoxicated by the shoosh of fabric beneath the crisp silk. He opened the door and she brushed against him as she slid into the seat. Chase cursed himself for flinching and slammed the car door.
Tessa jumped, her gaze following him as he climbed in and started the engine.
"Are you okay?"
She laid a hand on his forearm and felt the muscles tighten.
Hell no, he wasn't okay. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss the air right out of her. He wanted to rip that coat off and see what was beneath, but mostly he wanted the crowd in his trousers to leave.
Instead, Chase glared accusingly at her. She's just being pleasant till the papers are signed, he thought. Well, a lot can happen in a few hours, and his signature on the documents was the last of them.
Okay, she thought, so he's going to make this evening difficult. She hadn't expected any less. He looked ready to strangle her, his hurt and rage piercing her with every glance. I love you Chase. I do. Can't you see? Yet they rode in silence like two warlords preparing for battle. As they arrived at the hotel, Chase came around to her side, dismissing the valet and yanking open the car door. He didn't spare her a glance as she swung her legs out of the car.
But his gaze unwillingly dropped to her legs, long and sleek and well muscled, and followed the slight hike of her coat as she touched a foot to the ground. She grasped his hand and stepped onto the curb, then immediately let go. The warmth of his touch lingered on her palm. Cameras flashed wildly and suddenly every reporter in town wanted a shot of her. Chase put a hand to the small of her back and guided her between the velvet ropes inside.
"Good heavens, I didn't expect this!"
"Local coverage, good for donations." His tone was clipped, as if the slightest conversation would choke him.
"And what's the charity?"
His half-lidded gaze slid to her, his lips thin and hard. "Boy's Town."
For boys without fathers or families. Great, she thought. An evening of having the situation rubbed in her face.
Tessa's hopes dropped considerably as they walked through the lobby. His hand on her back felt like a lead weight, heavy and imprisoning. As they entered the banquet room, the festivities were in full swing, dancers moving across the floor, the buffet surrounded by local businessmen. A few paused on their way to the lavish buffet to say hello.
"Tessa." His tone was sharp and she turned, frowning. "Your coat."
Smiling softly, she loosened the sash, her gaze scanning the crowd for familiar faces as she let the coat slide down her arms.
"Oh, God," Chase moaned.
She looked at him, her eyes round with innocence. "Is something wrong?"
"No, nothing." The lie stuck in his throat, threatening to choke him for it.
But her dress drew the attention of every man within forty yards. He had the urge to throw the coat over her and hide her somewhere dark. It was a modernized version of a twenties style, formfitting shift, thin straps, low neckline. Too low. Hell, her breasts were practically pouring over the edge. Then she turned. He got a good look at the back and thought he'd come apart. Fabric draped off her shoulders to scoop so low he could see the curve of her spine, the dip of her waist, and for an instant he wondered how she kept it on. But that wasn't the worst of it. It was covered in beads, shimmering, clear bugle beads that gave the impression of movement even when she was still. The back half of the dress seemed to be cut to shape her bottom, flaring enticingly against the backs of her thighs as she walked. And Chase suddenly realized she was walking away from him.
