The Look of Love (The Sullivans #1)(4)

No sound came from the passenger seat and, inexplicably, he found himself fighting a grin. When was the last time a woman hadn’t thrown herself at him?

Then again, this one hadn’t told him anything at all, had she? Not just her name, but where she was headed.

Something was definitely up. It would be a much better idea if he could let it go, take her to a motel so that he could get on with his night of meaningless sex with Ellen at the winery.

So then, why wasn’t he doing just that?

And why the hell did he feel strangely drawn to this complete stranger?

He let the silence ride out between them, knowing she’d only answer if she felt comfortable enough with him to do so.

Finally, she said, “My name is Chloe.”

A pretty name. He normally would have told her so, but she was so touchy she’d probably take it the wrong way. He also noticed she didn’t tell him her last name.

She craned her neck to look out the window at a dimly lit sign. “Where are you going?” she asked, panic clearly threaded through each vowel. “Town is the opposite direction.”

Fortunately, right then he saw the Sullivan Winery sign, hit the remote to open the gates, and started up the narrow road.

“Chase.”

Her voice held a strong note of warning, but it certainly didn’t stop him from liking the way his name sounded on her lips.

“I told you to take me to a motel.”

He thought about the different ways he could respond, if he should make excuses or be placating. But sensing she’d see through his bullshit in a way most women rarely did, he simply said, “The guest house is closer. Nicer, too.”

She made a barely muffled sound of irritation. “Do you always ignore what people want and do what you want to do anyway?”

Again, there were several possible responses. But only one honest one. “Pretty much.”

“Your mother must be so proud,” Chloe said, sarcastically.

He liked the way the words rolled right off her tongue, as if she was getting a little more comfortable with the idea of being in his car, but a moment later, judging by the way she shifted uncomfortably in the seat, he knew she was worried about her off-the-cuff response.

Speaking as easily as he could, he said, “Fortunately, I have five brothers and two hellcat sisters to distract her.”

He hoped she’d give another unguarded response to that piece of information and was glad when she turned back to him and said, “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope. Eight of us in all.” He took his eyes off the road long enough to grin at her.

She shook her head. “Your mother must be a saint.”

Good. He’d managed to distract her for a few moments, long enough to pull up behind the guest house. And this time, she didn’t seem to be worried by what she’d said - or how he would react to it.

“Look,” he said softly, “I know you’d rather not be here, but my brother owns this winery and I can’t see how it makes sense to pay for a crappy room in some dump on the side of the freeway when there are five empty bedrooms right here.”

“I don’t know you,” she said again.

“I know you don’t. And, trust me, if you were either of my sisters I wouldn’t want you to trust some guy who picked you up on the side of the road in the middle of a rainstorm.” He noted her surprise at the way he’d agreed with her innate wariness of him. “That’s why all I’m going to do is get you settled and then I’ll leave and head over to my brother’s house on the other side of the property.”

He waited for her to say no again. And the truth was, if she flat-out insisted on going to a motel, outside of throwing her over his shoulder and chaining her to one of the beds in his brother’s guest house, he was going to have to do what she wanted.

He pushed aside the flare of desire that tried to shoot through him at that whole tied-to-the-bedpost scenario. Lord knew if she saw her impact on him now, she was going to start clawing at the car door so that she could run screaming into town to get away from him.

“So,” she said slowly, drawing the one word out, which had the unfortunate result of drawing his eyes to her full, expressive lips.

My God, she had to be one the most beautiful women he’d come across in months. Years, maybe. And beautiful women were his job.

“You’re not going to stay with me?”

Ah, finally. It was the first time she hadn’t argued with him or told him she couldn’t stay here. Seizing the moment, he said, “I’ll just get you settled and then I’ll head over to his house for the rest of the night.”

Before she could change her mind, he reached for her bag, but she shifted and opened the door, moving out into the rain before he could help her with the damn thing. For some crazy reason, it had become a goal to carry it for her. He wanted to get her to trust him enough that she would accept his help.

She moved quickly to the covered porch. His brother’s housekeeper had left the front light on for him and he was graced with his best view of Chloe yet. Her hair, which had started to dry just a little in the car, really was like silk, so glossy she could make a mint in shampoo ads. She had a truly gorgeous figure. Not too thin, with beautifully lush curves that made his fingers itch to touch her.

What the hell was wrong with him? He needed to stop thinking like that. He’d taken her to his brother’s place to help her out of a bad situation, not help her out of her clothes.