A Scandalous Melody (4 page)

Hell. Not sure of his own motivations anymore, Chase ignored Irene's question and asked one of his own. “Did you ever meet my grandmother Steele? Did she ever come to Bayou City? I don't remember meeting her or even hearing her name when I was a kid.”

Irene shook her head sadly. “No, child. Your mother, Francine, died believing her own mother hated her for marrying your father. I tried to encourage Francine to call Lucille when the time was getting close for your birth.” Irene hesitated and sighed. “I think she might've done it eventually…if she'd lived.”

Chase had no memory of his mother, only pictures and the stories that Irene had told him when he'd been little. He didn't have any reason to grieve for a woman that he'd never known. But inheriting money and a family from her had made him rather sorry that they'd missed talking to each other.

“Why did my mother marry my father, Irene?” Knowing what he'd learned recently about Lucille Steele and her family, he couldn't imagine now why a
young woman from such a good home would run off and marry the town drunk.

Irene laughed. “Love would be my guess. But that's a question that you should ask of your father.”

Chase remembered asking his father lots of family questions as a boy. Only he'd never gotten any answers. He'd learned early that simply asking the questions only made his father sink further into the drunken stupor that had been his old man's constant companion back then.

Today, his father wanted to talk, but Chase couldn't manage to listen. There was too much heartache in the past for him to forgive.

He shrugged off Irene's suggestion. “Someday maybe.”

After he'd said goodbye to Irene, he spun the Jag around in her front yard and headed back to the B&B. There wasn't time now to go look at the old shack.

And that was really for the best. Too much thinking and talk about his childhood unsettled him, and he wanted to be sharp for his confrontation with Kate tonight.

Something had snapped in him when he'd seen her out on the terrace last night. His whole body ached to touch her—to taste her—once again.

His gut clenched and his mouth watered at the mere thought of her. Those weren't the reactions he thought he would have after all this time of hating her. But there it was. Nothing to do but make the most of it.

 

The best restaurant around was not in Bayou City but fifteen miles away at a country crossroads closer to New Iberia. A place where it was usually impossible to get a table at the last minute, the owner of Kizzy's Café greet
ed Chase like an old friend and seated them in a private corner at a booth set for two.

Everything was so lovely. Kate marveled at the eclectic feel of the antique country store that had been turned into a modern Cajun fine dining establishment. Crisp, white tablecloths, mismatched chairs and cozy booths hidden in secret corners. Heavy blue pottery dishes, and centerpieces of baby pink roses in shiny silver vases.

Her friend Shelby had first learned to cook as an employee of this restaurant before Madeleine was born. But Kate herself had never been in the place.

Looking around to see if she knew any of the other diners, Kate was pleased to see that no one else in the place had taken any notice of them. The gossip around town about her and Chase had already reached epic proportions. If anyone from Bayou City saw them out together it would only make things much worse.

The waiter brought a bottle of expensive sauvignon blanc at Chase's request and poured a small amount into a glass, offering to let Chase decide if it was to his taste.

But Chase shook his head. “Give the lady the choice.” He turned to her as the waiter offered her the glass. “You're the aristocrat. You know much more about wine than I ever will, I'm sure.”

Kate tried the wine and silently nodded at the waiter to pour and then leave the bottle. It looked as if Chase wasn't going to miss any opportunity to embarrass her tonight. Well, she could take it.

She would take much more than embarrassment from him. But what exactly was it that he wanted—or expected?

Who was this Chase Severin? What had he become in the ten years since he'd left town?

Chase rejected the menus when the waiter offered them. Instead he knew exactly what he wanted. He ordered crawfish pie, red beans and rice and jambalaya for both of them. They were all typical Cajun dishes, but she'd heard that Kizzy's served the very best in the world.

It made her wonder if the place's fame had reached Chase's ears in…wherever he'd been living.

“Uh…” she began hesitantly. “You know where I've been and what I've been doing for the last ten years. But I was wondering…”

“If the rumors were true?” he cut in. “If I had earned my fortune by gambling?”

“No…I mean…sort of. I was just curious to know what you've been doing all this time.”

He leaned back in the booth, stretched his legs and crossed his ankles under the table. The candlelight made it difficult to see his expression clearly. But she could feel the heat of his gaze—right through her clothes.

“I am a gambler, Kate. I'd say most of my life has been spent in one gamble or another.”

He let that thought hang in the air for a few moments. Did he mean that he'd taken a gamble on her years ago? A gamble that he felt he'd lost? She sensed the pink sting of a blush crawling up her neck.

“After I left…or was escorted out of…Bayou City,” he began again, “I hitched a ride to New Orleans. Found my way into a backroom poker game or two until I had enough for a real stake. Then I made my way to Las Vegas.”

He stopped and took a sip of water, ignoring his
wine. “I turned pro, hit a couple of major pots and eventually won a casino in a high-stakes private game.”

“A whole casino? Wow.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, it was pretty wow for a twenty-one-year-old kid. I quit playing and decided to limit all my gambling to the business end of the casino.”

“You must've done fairly well with it,” she murmured as she took a sip from her wineglass.

“You could say that. After a couple of years, I doubled down and bought another house, then a few more in Reno and Atlantic City.”

“So that's what you do now? You own casinos all over the country?” He was rich enough to make Kate nervous.

“Casinos, hotels, resorts, restaurants. A few of them I acquired in payment of bad debts. Most I bought for pennies on the dollar and turned them around.”

“Well, it'll cost you a pretty penny to put the mill to rights, if that's your newest gamble.”

“I've
got
a pretty penny,
chère.
In fact, I've just inherited enough pennies to make your beautiful head swim.”

“Inherited? Not from your father. He hasn't died?”

Chase shook his head. “No, not my father. It turns out that I have a whole respected family on my mother's side. My grandmother died recently, and I was one of the main beneficiaries to her rather vast fortune.”

“Oh,
cher,
” she said, genuinely happy for him. “I didn't know you had any family except for your father.”

“Neither did I. Funny how things in life can turn around so suddenly, isn't it?”

Was that another none-too-subtle hint about her new dire circumstances? It didn't matter. She was glad he
had found wealth, relatives and respect. Regardless of the fact that it meant he had control of her future now.

Chase had always been the one really good guy in town in her mind. The good guy who had protected her and towered over everyone else in her estimation.

She'd never doubted that he would do his best for the town. And soon the rest of the world would know it, too.

 

The waiter brought their salads, then their entrees, and the time passed quietly while they enjoyed their meals. After the chicory coffee was served and the candles on the table had burned low, Chase tried to clear his head of the congenial feelings and the sensual images that had been plaguing him during their dinner.

Kate was too bright—too soft—too everything. In her sleeveless black dress with the little shoulder straps and the dainty high-heel sandals, the woman made his insides ache with wanting.

He'd meant for this to be a fast meal where he could study her, find ways to get under her skin and make her want him. Instead, he'd opened his mouth and his heart and told her things about his past that few people had ever heard.

Dumb. Well, he would just have to begin again. After all, his original intentions were to have her squirm, right?

“You ready to leave yet, Kate?”

“Leave? Where are we going? Is the evening over already? I wanted to explain to you…”

“Nothing's over. Get your things together. I'll take care of the bill and then we're going home.”

“Home? To the B&B?”

He stood back, studying her and waiting for the re
action. “To
my
home,
chère.
We're going to Live Oak Hall. I have a game I think you might enjoy playing.”

He waited for the question. But though her eyes were wide, she raised her chin and didn't say a word. The ache in his chest from wanting her and yet trying to remember that he hated her was beginning to make him irritable. Why couldn't this be easy? Why couldn't she just be the heartless witch of his nightmares?

“I'm going to give you the chance to gamble for what you want,” he muttered. “You want something from me, you have to win it.”

“I'm not much of a gambler,” Kate told him quietly.

“Ah, but this game will be so enjoyable.” He slid out of the booth and turned back, holding out his hand to her.

Finally she asked, “What game is that?” Ignoring his hand, she scooted out of the booth on her own.

“Let's just see how badly you want your favor.” He took her arm and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “A little game of poker ought to tell us all we need to know. Don't you agree,
bébé?
”

“Which poker? I'm not good at playing card games.”

“It's better if you're bad at it, Kate. This is the very best game to play between two old friends, and one I know
I'll
enjoy—strip poker.”

“T
hat's cheating, Kate.” Chase said the words with a low growl, but his eyes were dark with mischief and mirth.

“A shoe is an article of clothing,” she insisted.

After already removing her watch, a ring and the clip from her hair, shoes were the only things left to go before the consequences of being a loser in this game became much too intimate.

“Besides, I think you're the one that's cheating,” Kate argued. “The cards you've been dealing are just awful.”

Chuckling softly, Chase shook his head. “I don't have to cheat. You're terrible at this game.” He leaned back and leered at her through the flickering candlelight. “But the article of clothing is a
pair
of shoes. You can't lose only one of the pair.”

“Hmm. All right.” Kate grudgingly removed both shoes.

Trying to slow down the inevitable, she took a long, deep sip of brandy. Her hand was trembling, but she wasn't afraid. Kate just didn't want Chase to know how badly he was getting to her. After years of dreaming about his touch and his kiss, she desperately wanted to lose this game. But she didn't want him to know his advantage. Her blood and her brain were sizzling by simply being this close to him.

They were sitting on the oriental rug at the foot of the massive hearth in the formal parlor of her ancestral home. Chase lit the fire to dispel the chill, and had insisted on candlelight and after-dinner drinks for their poker game.

She lowered her eyes and took one more sip, letting the warmth of the smooth liquid roll down her throat. But when she finally looked up, he was watching her with a wicked gleam and a shadowed expression. Cruel secrets entwined about them like a swamp full of tangled kudzu.

Chase dealt another hand. The cards lay facedown at her place. She could hear them silently call her name, taunting her to turn them up and learn her fate.

“Your action, Kate.”

Finally she forced herself to pick up her hand. She knew in an instant it was a winner—a full house, jacks high.

“Wha…” She cleared her throat and reminded herself to keep a poker face. “What stakes did you have in mind this time, Chase? There's nothing much left for me to wager except the dress and my underwear.”

“The dress will do,” he said with a lazy drawl.

“Fine. But if I win I want your promise to consider letting Shelby and the baby stay in the guest cottage.”

“You're not much on bluffing,
chère.
Have a good hand, do you? Remind me to teach you someday how to keep a straight face over a decent hand.

“But for now,” he added with a slow grin. “Let's see what you've got. I'll call.”

It was time to lay out her cards. She quietly fanned them open before her, trying hard not to gloat.

Until…Chase soberly turned over his cards and Kate felt her stomach jump and begin doing backflips.

“Four kings?” she groaned in amazement. Stunned by his outrageous good fortune, Kate sat there immobile and stared at the cards.

Reality hit her all too suddenly when she felt Chase reach over to lightly finger one of her dress's straps. Shocked by the warm, erotic sensation of his hands on her bare skin, Kate gasped and drew away. Then she cursed herself as an idiot. Draw away? When this was what she wanted, after all?

“I won that dress fair and square,” Chase said in a ragged whisper. “But I would never force you to do anything you didn't want to do. You can trust me not to hurt you.”

“Oh, Chase,” she mumbled past an unexpected lump in her throat. “Those are the very first words you ever said to me. Do you remember?”

She glanced over at him just as a drape of moonlight fell across his face, revealing hard features and a tense jawline. “That was in another lifetime, Kate. Things have changed.”

Not for her they hadn't. “I remember being ten years old like it was yesterday.” The memory burned into her soul. “My mother had just…run away… And when we
discovered she'd meant to go for good, my father simply shrugged and said ‘good riddance to bad trash.' I never forgave him for that…never.”

“You were a pretty tough cookie back then,” Chase agreed. “You got it into your head to leave town, too.”

Chase's voice began to mellow as he moved back into the shadows out of her sight. “I remember the scrawny dark-haired kid with the chip on her shoulder who wandered way out to the wrong side of town and then got lost. You were all full of fight and ready to conquer the world.”

“I wasn't lost,” she said with a smile of memory. “Just spitting mad. But you and your father wiped my nose, filled my stomach and gently convinced me to go on back home. It was one of the kindest things anyone ever did for me.” And she had fallen desperately, madly, irrevocably in love with Chase from that first moment.

“Did your mother ever contact you again? Do you know where she is now?” The husky voice coming out of the darkness carried a note of concern. “You could hire private detectives to look for her. That's how my grandmother Steele's lawyers found me.”

“No. It doesn't matter anymore.” Her heart twinged as she realized he truly cared about her welfare even after everything that had happened in the past.

But then the sound of his voice turned cold. “You quit fighting years ago, didn't you?” he asked with a sneer.

She knew he was referring to that last night. That last horrible night when her whole world had collapsed. But she didn't want to talk about it. Not now.

This was no night for recriminations and revelations.
Tonight she wanted to feel his hands on her body, his tongue tasting, stirring—at long, long last.

“My mother's whereabouts don't matter,” she told him as she raised her chin. “If she wanted me—wanted to see me—she would've done it by now. I've grown up and don't need a mother anymore.”

A tense moment of silence worried Kate and made her notice a drop of sweat that had formed at her temple. What was he thinking?

“Is that what you imagined of me all this time, Kate? That if I'd wanted to see you, I would've contacted you? It didn't occur to you to try to find me first?”

She shook her head sadly. “I was positive that you wouldn't want to see me…that you hated me. I…I don't blame you for it, but I couldn't…” Her words trailed off and she let her chin drop again as she battled the tears.

This wasn't what she wanted to happen this evening. Couldn't they just take comfort from each other and forget the past for one night?

“I didn't…I don't…hate you,
chère.
” For the moment Chase's voice was filled with painful emotion.

Wanting badly to put the past behind them forever, Kate almost blurted out the truth of what had really happened that last night. Then she thought better of it as she realized such a confession would mean the end of her time with him. If Chase didn't hate her now, he surely would when he heard it all. And she was becoming desperate for a few more hours…a few more days…with the only man she would ever love.

So because she loved him, because she couldn't bear to hear this strong man's indecision on her account, and
because she would never welsh on a bet, Kate decided to pay up.

Slowly she got to her feet and pushed the spaghetti straps down her shoulders. Reaching behind her, she began to lower the back zipper, but found that her hands were shaking too violently to get the job done.

Suddenly clumsy, Kate felt the sting of embarrassment rising up her chest and flaming her cheeks. She had on the sexiest underwear she owned—in black lace—as she had expected and hoped—that Chase would undress her sometime tonight. He'd said he wanted her as a mistress, hadn't he?

But she'd never expected to have to do a striptease for the man. It made her feel naughty…scandalous. And that was so far from her ordinary existence that she was left floundering and brainless.

She heard something rustling in the dark shadows surrounding her and felt a whisper of air against her skin.

“Need help,
chère?
” Chase's rough, masculine voice came from close behind her instead of from the other direction, raising the hair on her arms and sending a chill down her spine.

Kate wanted to spin around and face him. Seeing Chase's eyes as she took off the dress became suddenly terribly important. But his strong hands took her by the shoulders and kept her facing the other way.

“Stay still,” he ordered softly. “I'll take care of the zipper. But you need to hold your hair out of the way.”

He took his hands off her shoulders but remained close enough that his breath blew warmth across her chilled skin. How could she be both cold and too hot at the same time?

Wishing this part of the evening would hurry up and be over so Chase would finally take her to bed, Kate did as he requested. With jerky movements, she managed to lift her hair and hold it off her neck.

“Sweet,” he murmured in her ear. His voice ran along her nerve endings, stirring her senses and arousing her desire.

The soft music of the zipper being lowered sounded for all the world like summer insects buzzing far off in the deep swamp. She felt light-headed and achy as the satin material of the black dress whispered against her skin, slid past her hips and pooled on the floor.

She stood perfectly still, naked save for her strapless bra and bikini panties, and prayed for Chase to touch her. His breathing was loud enough and ragged enough from behind her to let her know he was there and watching her. She felt his gaze, roaming over her, making the heat spike through her body.

Her own breathing became labored and shallow, echoing in her ears, while the sensation of being touched with just his eyes made her wet and ready for him. But he did not put his hands on her again.

She eased around, ready to make the first move toward kissing him if necessary. But Chase was not behind her. Only twitching shadows of firelight filled the space with empty echoes.

“Chase?”

“Game's over.” His raspy voice came from the darkened doorway at the other side of the room. “You won. Shelby and the baby can stay.”

“But, Chase…” She turned to see his silhouette.

“There's room enough in this old plantation house for everyone. I'll be moving in tomorrow.”

“Into my bedroom?” She held her breath, waiting for an answer.

“We'll see,” he said roughly. “I may not wish to sleep with old ghosts.”

“What about tonight, Chase?”

“Go to bed. I've grown tired of the game. Good evening, Kate.”

Through the low light dancing from the candles and fireplace, she watched as he turned his back and left the room. Choking back a sob, Kate sank to the floor and wrapped her arms around her waist.

He hadn't been turned on by her as she had been for him. Oh, Lord. Living in the same house but not sleeping with him was going to be a much worse punishment than being thrown out of her own home would've been. He couldn't have found a more perfect way to take revenge.

And the thing was…nothing that he'd done or could ever do would make her love die. She was doomed to a lifetime of misery, wishing for things to be different.

 

Chase eased onto a bar stool at the smoky roadhouse tavern, leaned his elbows on the broad mahogany bar and ordered a bottle of bourbon. It was almost closing time, but he figured the bottle could easily go with him when they kicked him out. He imagined they would have to call a cab for him—because he fully intended to get rip-roaring drunk before they closed the doors.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to close his mind to the picture of Kate standing there in front of the fireplace in nothing but two pieces of black lace. Her scent
was still in his nostrils. The heat from her back still burned his knuckles.

He wasn't sure he would be able to stick with his plan and stay here in Bayou City while he made a decision on the mill. Every time he looked at Kate he wanted to taste her.

Even from the distance of ten years he remembered the flavor of the tender skin at the back of her neck. Remembered the spun honey of her dusky nipples, puckering under the ministrations of his tongue. And tasted in his mind the sweetness of the silky flesh covering the pulse beat right above her breasts.

Oh, God. He poured himself a shot and slugged it back. The fiery liquid burned all the way down as he perversely savored the pain roaring in his gut. He deserved to ignite in hell.

He couldn't get her out of his mind. So many nights since he'd last seen her ten years ago had been spent dreaming of those dark eyes, sparkling in the glow of moonlight as she reached out for him.

Now he would never be rid of the picture of her standing there before him tonight, half-naked, shivering and hanging her head as she removed her dress. Even in the flickering light, he had clearly seen her distress. And he damned himself for it.

Pushing her too far had been his objective. Making her squirm the way he had years ago had been the goal. But he hadn't counted on seeing the grown-up Kate, looking so erotic and earthy and so made for sex—flaming under the blush of embarrassment.

It had thrown him. Made him think.

He'd ached for the pleasure of her body. Her long
legs had seemed to go on forever, her porcelain skin just begged to be stroked. But he would not take her…or anyone, against their free will.

Swearing under his breath, Chase tried to examine the emotion that had overcome his desire for revenge and that had even managed to push aside his lusty urges. The emotion that had shocked him…driving him right out of the house and into this bar.

Need. Pure gut-wrenching need—to protect her. To hold her and keep her safe in a dangerous world.

What a fool he'd been to think he could tease Kate, bring her to desperation and then casually take her. There had never been anything casual about the way he felt about Kate. And now he knew there never would be.