And now he was looking at her, his gaze fixed on her with disturbing intensity, the look in those smoky blue eyes so intimate that she felt the flush start at her toes and work its way up her body. How could a look be so personal? Her response shocked her, reminding her of everything they’d shared that night.
“Matilda.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Not Lara.”
She felt her color deepen. Of course he knew her real name now. There was no more hiding. “Chase. Not Alex.”
“Alex is my middle name. So why Lara? Why name yourself after the heroine in your story?”
Of course he would have skimmed her book before sending it to his brother.
How to explain? “Because if I hadn’t pretended to be her I never would have had the courage to do all those things with you.”
A dark brow arched. “So it wasn’t Matilda in my bed, it was Lara?”
“Maybe.” She was conscious of people flowing past them. Even this late, New York was crowded. The city that never slept. “To begin with.”
Amusement gleamed in his eyes. “Going to bed with two women has always seemed to me to be fraught with complications, but I’m starting to rethink that.” He drew in a breath and reached for her hand, drawing her close. “Relax. You look as if you’re about to turn and run. And in case you’re considering it, you should know that I’m not losing you again.”
Her stomach clenched. “Chase—”
“Why did it take you so long to come? My brother gave you that note a week ago.”
“The note said ‘Midnight at Tiffany’s.’ You didn’t say which night.”
His hand gripped hers tightly. “I’ve waited here every night.”
“Every night?” She gaped at him and he gave a faint smile.
“Yes. You have no idea how close I’ve come to being arrested.”
“But why?
”
“Because I’ve waited all my life to meet someone like you and I’m not losing you now.” His voice was raw. “Do you have any idea how I felt when I woke up and found you gone?”
He thought he knew the truth about her, but he didn’t. “Do you have any idea how I felt when I woke up and found out you were Chase Adams?”
His eyes narrowed. “How did you find out?”
“I knocked your wallet onto the floor.”
“And was that the reason you ran?”
“Of course.”
“Why of course?”
“Because—” She gave a helpless shrug. “I wouldn’t have thought an explanation was necessary.”
“Because you thought I was a—what was the description you used?—ruthless, heartless, moneymaking machine?”
She wanted to slide through the grille on the road and disappear. “Please forget I said that.”
“Why? It was a fair description.”
“Obviously when I said that, I didn’t know you were Chase.”
“I’m glad you didn’t know. We had a most illuminating conversation. You were frank and honest, and if you’d known who I was, you wouldn’t have been.”