hard to refuse. More than that, she'd been dreading the moment of separation, when she and Kendal were thrust into the hostile world, where some stranger might just recognize them. The thought of being detained and questioned and ultimately reunited with Garret terrified her.
Chase's invitation erased those wretched pictures and replaced them with visions of something far less threatening.
But what if he exploits you? whispered the voice of caution.
She immediately quelled it. Chase might have brooded for two days straight, frightened her with his terse efficiency, slept with a gun under his pillow, but he'd acted honorably in every conceivable way. Surely she could trust him to see to their well-being just a few days longer. "Okay," she agreed. "I'm not in a rush."
His lagoonlike gaze held hers captive. "You're gonna have to tell me what your last name's gonna be. Everything."
She queried her judgment one more time. She would have to tell him that she and her birthmother had corresponded via e-mail for months now; that she planned to live with her in Dallas, tutoring immigrants to earn a living. "I'll tell you tomorrow," she promised, too weary tonight to go into detail tonight.
"Fair enough," he said, his gaze lingering. "You gonna be able to sleep now?"
"I think so."
"Me too. Let's get some shut-eye."
His arm brushed her breast as he turned toward the door to put the keycard in the lock.
Sara gasped, surprised that the contact felt pleasurable. She trembled to think of how vulnerable she truly was, how easily Chase could take advantage of her.
"Go ahead," he said, holding the door.
She dove into the dark room, resolved to remain watchful.
Chapter Five
A hush fell over the occupants of the sports car as Chase turned off the asphalt road onto a dirt-and-gravel driveway to his ranch outside of Broken Arrow, Oklahoma.
It was 4:00 p.m., several hours past their anticipated arrival time. But they'd dawdled in Memphis that morning, where Sara had answered Chase's questions—Where in Texas was she headed? Who was waiting for her? What did she want to do for a living?
They'd stopped at a postal store on their way out of the city, and Chase had put all the notes he'd gathered that morning into an envelope and mailed it to his contact in DC. In ten days or so, she could expect her new documents to arrive at her birthmother's home in Dallas.
In the seven hour road trip that followed, Chase must have sensed Sara's misgivings for having revealed so much. He spoke to her—actually opened his mouth—and told her a little of his past and of the ranch where they were headed.
She'd been surprised to hear that he'd left Broken Arrow the day after high school graduation, driving a beat-up GTO all the way to California, where he joined the Navy and was accepted for training to be a SEAL.
"Didn't you miss your family?" she'd asked him.
"By then, there was only my stepfather," he explained, frowning.
They'd all died? He'd mentioned earlier that his father had fallen off a ladder when he was quite young. His grandfather had come to live at the ranch to help his mother cope. Then Lincoln Sawyer, the foreman who worked the ranch, had asked his mother to marry him.
"You didn't get along with him, did you?" she'd dared to ask.
"Used to work me like a rented mule," he admitted shortly.
That was her first inkling that Chase's happy childhood had gone swiftly down the drain. To hear that everyone but Linc had died, including his mother, whom he'd spoken of so tenderly, cemented her conclusions.
Sara peered down the driveway now, curious to see what kind of place had produced a man like Chase. The trees pressed in on either side—scrub oaks, sassafras, and persimmon. Wildflowers shot color through the overgrown grass edging the road.
She glanced at Chase's profile to assess his state of mind. He'd lapsed into silence, his eyes watchful, his expression grim. Dappled sunlight flickered over the tops of his hands as he adjusted
Chase's invitation erased those wretched pictures and replaced them with visions of something far less threatening.
But what if he exploits you? whispered the voice of caution.
She immediately quelled it. Chase might have brooded for two days straight, frightened her with his terse efficiency, slept with a gun under his pillow, but he'd acted honorably in every conceivable way. Surely she could trust him to see to their well-being just a few days longer. "Okay," she agreed. "I'm not in a rush."
His lagoonlike gaze held hers captive. "You're gonna have to tell me what your last name's gonna be. Everything."
She queried her judgment one more time. She would have to tell him that she and her birthmother had corresponded via e-mail for months now; that she planned to live with her in Dallas, tutoring immigrants to earn a living. "I'll tell you tomorrow," she promised, too weary tonight to go into detail tonight.
"Fair enough," he said, his gaze lingering. "You gonna be able to sleep now?"
"I think so."
"Me too. Let's get some shut-eye."
His arm brushed her breast as he turned toward the door to put the keycard in the lock.
Sara gasped, surprised that the contact felt pleasurable. She trembled to think of how vulnerable she truly was, how easily Chase could take advantage of her.
"Go ahead," he said, holding the door.
She dove into the dark room, resolved to remain watchful.
Chapter Five
A hush fell over the occupants of the sports car as Chase turned off the asphalt road onto a dirt-and-gravel driveway to his ranch outside of Broken Arrow, Oklahoma.
It was 4:00 p.m., several hours past their anticipated arrival time. But they'd dawdled in Memphis that morning, where Sara had answered Chase's questions—Where in Texas was she headed? Who was waiting for her? What did she want to do for a living?
They'd stopped at a postal store on their way out of the city, and Chase had put all the notes he'd gathered that morning into an envelope and mailed it to his contact in DC. In ten days or so, she could expect her new documents to arrive at her birthmother's home in Dallas.
In the seven hour road trip that followed, Chase must have sensed Sara's misgivings for having revealed so much. He spoke to her—actually opened his mouth—and told her a little of his past and of the ranch where they were headed.
She'd been surprised to hear that he'd left Broken Arrow the day after high school graduation, driving a beat-up GTO all the way to California, where he joined the Navy and was accepted for training to be a SEAL.
"Didn't you miss your family?" she'd asked him.
"By then, there was only my stepfather," he explained, frowning.
They'd all died? He'd mentioned earlier that his father had fallen off a ladder when he was quite young. His grandfather had come to live at the ranch to help his mother cope. Then Lincoln Sawyer, the foreman who worked the ranch, had asked his mother to marry him.
"You didn't get along with him, did you?" she'd dared to ask.
"Used to work me like a rented mule," he admitted shortly.
That was her first inkling that Chase's happy childhood had gone swiftly down the drain. To hear that everyone but Linc had died, including his mother, whom he'd spoken of so tenderly, cemented her conclusions.
Sara peered down the driveway now, curious to see what kind of place had produced a man like Chase. The trees pressed in on either side—scrub oaks, sassafras, and persimmon. Wildflowers shot color through the overgrown grass edging the road.
She glanced at Chase's profile to assess his state of mind. He'd lapsed into silence, his eyes watchful, his expression grim. Dappled sunlight flickered over the tops of his hands as he adjusted
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