01 - The Heartbreaker (33 page)

Annelise pushed the paper in front of Sloane. “Michael Carlisle’s not your real father; some man named Samson is. And what a scandalous history is involved in that story,” she said, but her voice had softened, no hint of anger in her tone. “I had to read about it in the paper. I wish you’d felt you could confide in me.” She sounded more hurt than angry.

Sloane centered the front page to read the headlines. F
ATHER
F
RAUD OR
F
ATHER
F
IGURE
? S
ENATOR
M
ICHAEL
C
ARLISLE
R
EVEALS
H
IDDEN
F
AMILY
S
KELETONS
. “Ugh,” she muttered. But as she scanned the contents of the article, she read not just an unbiased accounting of the facts, but a rosy picture of the life Sloane had led and the reasons behind it, no dirt heaped on the senator or his character.

And that, Sloane realized, was because the author was Chase Chandler, the article having been picked up by the major newspapers, the
Washington Post
included. Headlines and innuendos weren’t of his choosing, she was sure. Pride swelled inside of Sloane as she accepted he was living his dream at last.

He’d broken the story of Michael’s secrets, Sloane’s parentage, and her shooting in a way that dignified everyone involved, including Samson. She chuckled, imagining how difficult Chase had found that particular task. Still, the story was out now, she thought, and said a silent prayer that Michael’s career didn’t suffer because of decisions he’d made in the past.

Slowly she met her friend’s gaze. “It’s been a wild ride,” she admitted, patting her shoulder softly. “Sometimes a dangerous one.”

Annelise nodded. “And I can see how something like this would send you reeling.”

Sloane sighed. “That’s an understatement. I’m not sure I could have shared or explained this to anyone. I’m glad it’s all public now.” She spread her hands in front of her. “And thank you for understanding.”

Annelise nodded. “I’m your friend, Sloane. And that means I’m available for discussion. If you ever decide you want to talk about this guy you’re mooning over, I’m here.”

“What makes you think I’m mooning over a guy?” Sloane asked after pausing to join her friend for a sip of coffee. The drink was too sweet and she grimaced. “Am I that readable?”

“You sure are. Your emotions are plastered across your face. You’re miserable and it isn’t family issues bothering you, and before you ask how I know . . . Well, I can just tell.” Annelise leaned forward, her elbow brushing fabric swatches laid out on the table. “By the way, I like this pattern.”

“It’s called a trellis.”
Like some of the hangings on Norman’s bird-filled walls,
Sloane thought.

And that was another weird thing. The little hole-in-the-wall diner with no real sense of style appealed to Sloane far more than the places she frequented in D.C. The ones who paid the finest decorators to create an atmosphere customers would want to return to. Sloane missed the tacky birds.

“Okay, your body may be here, but you are still lost in thought.” Annelise picked up her purse. “Call me when you want to talk, okay?”

Sloane nodded. “Will do. And thanks again.”

Long after Annelise walked out the door, Sloane forced herself to work her way down the list of phone calls, accomplishing some things and crossing them off her list, and leaving messages on others, with follow-up notes on her pad. By the time her cell phone rang, she was ready for any distraction that wasn’t decorating related. “Hello?”

“Hi, sweetie.”

Madeline’s voice came through over the phone and Sloane was so happy to talk to her with no secrets, no problems between them. “Hi, Mom. Where are you?”

“In the mall, taking your sisters shopping. Or actually, chauffeuring your sisters while I pick up a few things myself. I just wanted to hear your voice, so I thought I’d call.” Madeline laughed, but the shakiness was obvious.

A brush with death would do that to even the strongest person, Sloane thought. “I’m fine,” she assured Madeline, even though her stepmother hadn’t asked. Madeline wouldn’t want her to know she was still worried. “I’m trying to get back into the swing of things at work.”

“And are you?”

“No.” Sloane laughed. “Not in the least.”

“Then come visit. I still have those letters of Jacqueline’s I promised to show you, and of course your sisters want to see for themselves that you’re okay. Hold on.”

Sloane heard some static and then Madeline’s voice. “Girls, bare backs are fine, but that much cleavage is
not.
Different dresses,” she ordered.

Sloane chuckled. “Christmas fund-raiser?” Sloane asked knowingly. She’d attended enough of those to figure out what the twins were shopping for.

“Of course,” Madeline said. “And you can’t imagine the slinky getups Eden and Dawne just tried to get me to agree to let them wear.”

Sloane rolled her eyes. “They figured you were distracted and would just nod. Then when you yelled at home later, they could blame you.”

“Exactly. Now, would you come home? We can discuss your attending that fund-raiser then. There are many new men I can introduce you to who’ll help you get over what’s-his-name in no time,” Madeline said.

Sloane stiffened in her seat. “His
name
is Chase Chandler, which you very well know.” Chase was unforgettable.

He’d never lied to her, never given her less than what he’d promised, and had always delivered more. She loved him even more for that.

“I know his name, honey. I just wasn’t sure how you were feeling about him these days.”

Great
, Sloane thought. Patronized by her own mother. “We’re better off not going there. It wouldn’t do any good.”

“Did you know Charlotte had her baby?” Madeline asked softly. “A little girl?”

Sloane shook her head. No, she hadn’t known. She’d missed the occasion, missed seeing Chase’s expression when he saw his niece for the first time. And she’d missed it all because she’d let him go. He’d offered her a future and she didn’t trust that it was what he really wanted.

Had she been wrong, after all?

“Sloane? Are you there?”

She wiped a tear that began dripping down her cheek. “I’m here. And no, I didn’t know about Charlotte.” She swallowed over the lump in her throat. “I’ll have to send a gift.”

“I’m sorry, honey.”

“Yeah. Me too.” She gripped the receiver harder in her hand.

“Come home and let me take care of you. I thought you should take a few more days off to recuperate anyway.”

Sloane smiled, suddenly finding the thought of Madeline’s care and her sisters’ chatter appealing. But the notion of Yorkshire Falls was even more inviting. “Let me think about it, okay?”

“No, it’s not okay. Either you call for a flight or I’ll schedule one for you. I don’t want you alone. You still need family around you.”

Sloane groaned. “You’re determined. But it wouldn’t work unless I wanted to come. I’ll call and schedule a flight. I can be
home tonight.” And in Yorkshire Falls tomorrow, if she chose to be.

“We’re not going to be home tonight. Your father and I have plans and your sisters are sleeping at a friend’s house, but you have the key, right?”

“Yes.” She jangled the key chain that held all her keys. “I’ll just see you in the morning.”

“Wonderful! Don’t forget to put your flight information on our answering machine so I have it,” Madeline instructed. “Well, I have to go. The girls are coming back with armloads of dresses. Let me go weed out the trashy from the trashier. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Sloane hung up, feeling better than she had since leaving Yorkshire Falls. Tomorrow she’d be home with her family. Okay, so it wasn’t the same as being with Chase, but it was a start.

Sloane stepped off the plane and walked down the runway. Albany Airport wasn’t busy, and since she had only a carry-on bag, she walked straight outside to grab a taxicab. A cold wind whipped through the night air and she shivered.

Before she could wind her way through to the taxi line, a dark truck pulled up beside her, passenger window open. “Need a lift?”

Sloane recognized Chase’s deep, rumbling voice and her stomach flipped over in surprise. “How’d you find me?”

“Madeline called and said you needed a ride home from the airport.”

Sloane narrowed her gaze. “That matchmaking, lying, sneaky—”

“Those used to be my sentiments exactly, back when my mother used to exercise her skills. But that was before you came along.” He laughed. “Come on and get in. It’s freezing outside.”

Without waiting for a reply, he opened his door and stepped
into the street. Ignoring her protests and questions, he walked around to put her suitcase into the back of the truck.

Sloane rubbed her now free hand over her shoulder and eyed him warily. She
could
take a taxi anyway, but he’d driven half an hour to the airport to pick her up, and Yorkshire Falls was in the opposite direction from her parents’ house, so he’d gone out of his way. Just to see her.

And it was
so
good to see him. Even if Madeline had obviously set her up. But
why
had Chase been willing to go along? She wouldn’t get answers unless she joined him, so when he opened the door, she slid inside without hesitation. The heat blasted around her, warming her from the outside in. When he settled into the driver’s side, the temperature in the truck spiraled upward.

His darkened gaze met hers, telling her he felt that instant connection too. Warning herself to tread carefully, she shifted in her seat, trying to think of neutral conversation.

“How’s the shoulder?” he asked as he pulled onto the road leading out of the airport.

She leaned her head back against the seat. “It still hurts some. I’m down to taking Tylenol only.”

“I’m glad.”

She wasn’t ready to tackle anything about
them,
so she went for the obvious choice. “I heard from Madeline that Charlotte had her baby.”

“She’s incredible.” His grin was infectious; his adoration for the baby so obvious, it tore at Sloane’s heart. This reaction from the man who didn’t want children of his own? Once again, Sloane was forced to reexamine her own reasons for pulling back and not trusting in Chase’s proclamation that he’d changed his mind.

Could the fact that her life was in turmoil have played a factor? The people she’d always trusted, Madeline and Michael, had betrayed her in the most fundamental way. Chase had offered her his heart along with the things she’d told herself she wanted.

Yet, she’d turned him away. “How is Charlotte feeling?” she asked.

“Better by the day.”

“I wish you had called to tell me.” Sloane forced out the words that would draw them into an emotional conversation, not knowing where things would lead.

One hand on the wheel, Chase rested his other arm on the headrest behind her seat. “I didn’t think you wanted to hear from me.”

She sighed. “Did I say that?”

He slanted his head her way. “
Good-bye, Chase,
spoken loud and clear. But I decided to ignore your words and go with my gut.”

“Turn off at the next exit,” she instructed, catching sight of the thruway signs.

Instead, he passed right by her parents’ exit. “Chase?”

“I know where I’m going. You’re going to have to trust me, sweetheart. Can you do that this time?”

She let out a wry laugh. “That’s a good one. When did I ever not trust you?” She’d trusted him with her life and he’d delivered, every time.

“When I told you I loved you and you pushed me away,” he said bluntly.

“Touché.” Just as she’d begun to suspect, she really had contributed to messing things up between them. He wasn’t solely to blame. She rolled her head to the side, glancing out the window into the dark night. “Chase?”

“Yes?”

“I pushed you away and you didn’t think I wanted to hear from you, right?”

“Right.”

The truck drove over a bump in the road and her shoulder took the brunt of the turn. She winced, ignoring the pain. “Then what are you doing here now?”

“I want to be here.” Chase glanced over and immediately
noticed the strain in Sloane’s face, the exhaustion evident by the dark circles under her eyes.

She still hadn’t completely recovered from the shooting incident, but she had returned to work after merely one weekend of rest. Not enough in Madeline’s opinion, nor in Chase’s. Which was why he was kidnapping her, so to speak. Raina may have given up matchmaking, but Madeline had been only too happy to provide him with easy access to her stepdaughter.

Chase couldn’t read Sloane’s reaction to his words. She hadn’t turned back to face him and remained quiet for the duration of the trip, until he parked in a graveled parking lot by a small inn.

“Where are we?” She turned to him at last.

“A place where you can rest.” He strode out of the truck and walked around to her side, opening the door for her.

She glanced up at him. “Do I have a say in this?”

“If you say you’ll follow me inside, then yeah, you have a say.” He pointed toward the renovated dairy barn that now served as a luxurious inn.

“Very funny.”

“I’m not laughing.” He lifted their suitcases out of the back and shut the door. He ignored the urge to back her against the truck and kiss her until she stopped talking, stopped arguing, stopped doing anything except loving him. But he’d tried that last time and it hadn’t worked. He wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice.

Since he’d already checked in earlier this evening, he didn’t have to bother with paperwork now. Instead, he led Sloane up a short flight of stairs and down a narrow hallway to their dimly lit sitting room. There was a fire crackling in the fireplace, adding to the atmosphere he’d wanted to create for her. Intimate, private, and solemn.

Once they were inside, she glanced around, taking in the paneled walls and old-world charm. “This place really is beautiful.”

He helped take her jacket off, careful not to hurt her shoulder.
A bandage still covered her wound and the thick padding stuck out from her shirt. “My parents came here on their honeymoon and every anniversary after.”