Merline Lovelace - Undercover Groom

His smile tipped into a wry grin. “I don’t think you can call what we do a game, Pam. We’ve taken it too close to the edge too many times.”

“And that’s what makes it so wonderful. What makes us so damned good together. You don’t want to give it up, Mase. You know you don’t. Besides, I need you. No one plays it harder or faster or rougher than you do.”

Chloe choked. She didn’t want to hear any more. She certainly didn’t need to see any more. Now she understood why Mase hadn’t taken her up on her subtle hints about morphing their pretend relationship into a real one. Only a fool would want to tie himself to idiotic, naive Chloe, who had traveled all the way to Paris to lose her virginity at the ripe old age of twenty-four, when he could play hard and fast and rough with this...this person.

Misery and a fury she had no right to feel coursed through her. She must have made some movement, some sudden jerk, because the brunette flicked a quick look over Mase’s shoulder.

Her brown eyes locked on the woman frozen in the door, then filled with an expression that hovered between recognition, amusement and—damn her!—triumph. The message was immediate, unmistakable, woman to woman.

He’s mine. He put an engagement ring on your finger, lady, but we both know he’s mine.

Chloe’s nails dug into her palms. Her chin shot up at the exact moment Mase twisted around and spotted her.

Another man might have stammered or flushed with embarrassment at being caught in such intimacy by his-supposed fiancée. Not Mase. Not calm, controlled, always-in-command Mase.

“I’m sorry, Chloe. I didn’t know you were here.”

“Obviously not.”

Unruffled, he moved his visitor to one side and straightened. “Please, come in. I’d like you to meet Pam Hawkins. She’s a business associate of mine.”

He didn’t blush. Didn’t even blink. Chloe had to admire his aplomb, even as she fought the hurt and fury tearing through her. She had no right to feel this awful jealousy, she reminded herself fiercely. Mase hadn’t made her any promises. He’d helped her out when she asked him to, that’s all. He was a friend. Only a friend.

The realization made her even more miserable. To compensate, she hiked her chin up another notch.

“I’m sorry I disturbed you.”

“You didn’t.” He strolled over to usher her into the office, as cool as she was flushed. “We’ve finished our business.”

His hand went to the small of her back in a touch so natural, so casually polite that Chloe’s teeth ground together. Involuntarily she jerked away from his hand.

“You’re finished?” she echoed. “Strange. From where I’m standing, it looked as though you were just getting started.”

The tinge of red that crept into his cheeks gave her some satisfaction. Not much, but some.

“I’ll talk to you another time,” she said icily. “When you’re not quite so busy.”

With a regal nod to the brunette, she spun around and retraced her steps through the anteroom.

Mase caught up to her as she jabbed at the elevator button, blinking furiously to clear her eyes of a ridiculous sting of tears.

“I’m sorry you walked in on that. It’s not what it looks like—” He broke off, his mouth twisting in disgust. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

Chloe couldn’t, either. She started to point out acidly that every man ever caught cheating on his wife or girlfriend used the same, hackneyed line, but caught herself just in time. She wasn’t Mase’s girlfriend. Not really. And she certainly wasn’t his wife.

“You don’t have to explain anything. Not anymore. Not that you ever did.” She stabbed the button again, trying for a coherency that eluded her. “Oh, hell, I’m making a mess of this. Look, I just came by to—to tell you that you’re off the hook.”

“What?”

Forcing a deep breath into her lungs, Chloe turned to face him. “It’s time to end our charade. Mollie called this morning, begging me to okay the final proof of the invitations. I put her off, but it’s not fair to stall her any longer. Or keep you dangling like this.”

“I’m willing to dangle as long as you want.”

She pasted what she sincerely hoped was a smile on her face. “Really? You weren’t dangling a few moments ago. You were practically wrapped around what was her name?”

“Pam,” he muttered. “Pam Hawkins.” He hesitated, choosing his words with obvious care. “Look, Chloe, my business with Pam is...complicated.”

“Funny, it didn’t sound complicated.”

His gray eyes narrowed, and he shot her a look so swift and sharp and un-Maselike that Chloe blinked.

“What exactly did you hear?”

“Not much,” she admitted on a long, gusting sigh. “Only enough to make me thoroughly ashamed of the fact that I’ve used you.”

“I accepted your proposal with my eyes open. You didn’t use me.”

“Yes, I did, and I’m sorry, Mase. Honestly. I know you assured me that our so-called engagement wouldn’t impinge on your private life, but I shouldn’t have presumed—I should have realized—I guess I just didn’t think things through,” she finished miserably.

The elevator door pinged open. Grabbing at the escape it offered, Chloe stepped inside and jabbed the Down button. Mase’s hand shot out, catching the door as it started to close.

“We need to talk about this.”

“We will. Call me, okay? We’ll work out the details of our big breakup.” The words left a bitter taste in her mouth. Good grief, what did it take for her to learn her lesson? First she’d let the handsome, debonair Andre con her. Now she’d conned herself into thinking... into hoping...

“No,” she said, recanting her offer to talk. “We don’t have to work out anything. I shouldn’t have risked our friendship by wrapping it in deceit. No more lies, Mase. No more pretense. As of this moment, you’re a free man. Officially, finally and irrevocably.”

His response was a short, pithy curse, something Chloe wasn’t at all used to hearing from him. She blinked in surprise as he stepped inside the elevator, caging her against the back wall.

“I’m not letting you walk away until we talk this through.”

A spurt of temper sliced through her hurt. Her eyes flashed a warning. “Back off, mister.”

“Dammit, Chloe...”

“I can’t talk about it now. I don’t want to talk about it now.”

For a moment she thought he might force the issue. Suddenly, ridiculously, she felt a frisson of alarm. Not fear, exactly. She couldn’t fear Mase if she tried. Yet this man looked almost like a stranger. To her infinite relief, he stepped back.

“All right. We’ll talk tonight. After the party at your uncle’s house.”

Finally the door whirred shut. Chloe slumped against the paneled wall, her eyes shut, with Mase’s image blazed on her eyelids. Tall. Dark-haired. Broad-shouldered. Square-jawed. Smiling down at Pamela Hawkins, who liked it hard and fast and rough.

A shiver of revulsion rippled through Chloe, followed immediately by one of pure, undiluted envy. Mase Chandler certainly hadn’t tried anything hard and fast and rough with her. Face it. He hadn’t tried anything at all. It shattered her to discover that steady, solid Mase possessed a dark side to his character she hadn’t even suspected. It shattered her even more to realize that she still wanted him. Desperately.

The elevator zipped downward. With every flashing floor number, Chloe berated herself. How could she be such a fool? When would she learn that she couldn’t trust her judgment where men were concerned?

Jaw tight, Mase watched the elevator indicator flash floor after floor. His instincts told him to go after Chloe, to work through this mess before she did something stupid, like announce to her father or brothers or the rest of the Fortune clan that they’d called off their supposedly fake engagement.