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overdoing it.
She needed to get better so she could help him out in a couple weeks . At
least that’s what he tried to convince himself as to why he wanted to hold her
so close to his body as he carried her to his bedroom and settled her gently
onto his king-sized bed. “Make yourself at home—”
    “Home?” She let
out a cute but derisive little snort. “This isn’t a home. It’s something out of
MTV Cribs , a penthouse or something. Do you live here, on the thirteenth
floor of your company’s building?” She gave him a crooked smile. “You do know most
people don’t have a thirteenth floor, right?”
    “They only skip
it to prevent problems with superstitious tenants or customers. I don’t believe
in bad luck, fairytales, or any shit like that. Besides, I’m the only one who
comes up here.”
    She let out
another dainty snort. “Right. As if countless women haven’t trolloped through
here.”
    He stopped and
looked down at her. “Not in the past year.”
    “Oh. So I take
it you’re not in a relationship then?”
    “I think you
misunderstood what I said. I haven’t had a woman up here in a year, but I don’t
do long-term relationships.”
    “Not ever?”
    “Never,” he
confirmed.
    “So the women you’ve
brought up here were, um…just for…”
    “I think the
word you’re searching for is sex, and the answer is yes. I am a man after all,
Jess. I may not buy into all that happily-ever-after bullshit, but I still have
needs. Anyway, please make yourself comfortable while I get you something to
drink.” He started for the door, then stopped and turned to look at her. His
large bed consumed her small body, where she sat with her pretty mouth agape.
    “Are you hungry?
Want an omelet or a grilled cheese sandwich or something?” He decided that if she
was going to sit there with her mouth opened like that, he might as well put
something in it. And food was the safest thing he could think of at that moment.
    “There’s no need
to make your maid fuss over me.” She smirked. “I assume you have one of those,
of course, Mr. Lennox.”
    “As a matter of
fact, I do. Nora comes every Monday morning, but while I may not like to clean
toilets, I am perfectly capable of feeding myself. And, as I asked you before, call
me Chase.”
    He caught the
flicker of surprise in her amber eyes, but she still managed to hold her smirk
in place. “Grilled cheese, I guess.” When he nodded and started for the door, she
finished with a snarky, “Thank you, Mr. Lennox.”
    Cringing at her
stubbornness, he wondered if she knew how much it bothered him that she refused
to use his first name. Everyone called him “Mr. Lennox,” and he was tired of
it. Not to mention that it had always made him feel older than what he really
was.
    He stopped at his dresser and dug through the second drawer until
he found the flannel pajamas Mamie had given to him as a Christmas present a
few years back. He’d never worn them, wearing anything to bed reminded him of the
constricting tie he had to endure during his sixteen-hour days.
    “Here.” He tossed the flannels on the
end of the bed. “They might be too big, but they’re clean. When you’re done
eating, I’ll run you a bath, and you can put those on.”
    Chase wanted to be sure his guest was completely covered,
because even the little span of skin that was exposed between the top of her
shirt and her neck was beckoning his mouth to give it a taste. And then there
was that area from her wrist to forearm. He wanted to run his tongue up her
delicate wrist. Run it right up to that snarky but pretty pink mouth of hers. Hell,
he’d give those sassy lips a real good lashing too.
    “Then we’ll talk about
my proposition and what is expected of you, Mrs. Lennox. ” Her mouth snapped
opened, but he raised an eyebrow, and she clamped it back shut. Besides food, being
closed was the second safest thing for that pretty mouth. “Rest for now,” he
said, pleased but surprised that she