The Chase by Lauren Hawkeye Read Free Book Online Page A

the bubbly golden liquid, then hands it to me.
    I shake my head, my fingers digging into the arms of the chair.
    “I said, where are we going?”
    Adam’s expression is dark and full of all kinds of words that I don’t understand, but still he says nothing—a talker he is not.
    I grind my teeth together with agitation as he slowly pours himself a glass of sparkling wine, then sips it, nodding approvingly. Settling back on the couch again, he lays one arm along the back of it, looking so unrealistically sexy that I kind of want to punch him in the chest. But mostly just so I could touch his chest.
    “Mr. Kincaid,” I start, and he shakes his head, leaning across the small space that divides us. Taking my hand in his own, he wraps my fingers around the stem of the flute, and my mouth goes dry.
    Stupid rock star sex pheromones. I’m a cynical bitch, and he plays for the other team and I know it, and yet I’m still not immune.
    “You’re safe. That’s all you need to know right now , kitten.” Sitting back down, he scowls in my general direction. “Drink your wine.”
    I consider flinging the contents of the flute into his face, just to be contrary, but I’m not sure what will happen if I do, and I’m not up to any more surprises today. Slowly, cautiously, I sip, sighing despite myself when the sweetness spreads out over my tongue.
    “Now don’t you feel better, doing what you’ve been told?” Smirking at me, he pats the couch beside him, gesturing for me to come over. “Come here. I want to take a look at your head.”
    I instinctively reach for the wound... it feels puffy, swollen, but not scabbed or bleeding. I’m sure I’m fine. And I’m sure that it’s not smart to get any closer to Adam Kincaid and his sex pheromones.
    “I’ll come over there if you tell me what happened.” My fingers tighten on the stem of my wine glass.
    “Excuse me?” Adam narrows his eyes, and I get the distinct impression that he’s not used to being questioned. I rub my fingers over my temple to emphasize my point, and he finally nods, conceding the point.
    “I’d just gotten to the hotel when I saw you burst through the door.” I don’t press and ask him why he was there already—I already know. Though why he’s decided to take such a personal interest in me, I have no idea.
    Adam takes a deep swallow of his own wine, and I try hard not to stare at the sexy way his Adam’s apple bobs . He huffs out a deep breath before continuing. “You clearly didn’t want to go with him. When you fell and hit your head, trying to get away from him, you passed out. He tried to pick you up and carry you off.”
    “He could try.” Despite the cockiness that I’m pulling around myself like a warm hug, I feel a tendril of terror, twining around the base of my spine.
    Adam sets his glass down on the table hard enough to shatter it.
    “You’re not getting this, sweet thing. He did try. He was frothing at the mouth, calling you Avery, saying you belonged to him. If I hadn’t been there, you could be dead. Or wishing you were.”
    The accusation in his tone makes me stiffen. Mostly because what he’s saying is true. “I can take care of myself, thanks ever so much.”
    “Cause you were doing such a great job of that when I found you.” He edges forward on the couch, clearly agitated. “I already told you. You’re not the kind of girl who should be in a job like this.”
    “And what do I look like I should be doing? Selling cupcakes at a bake sale while letting boys ogle my legs in my cheerleading skirt?” I smirk at him, irritation covering the whisper in my head that tells me he’s right. “No, you said, I don’t look like the kind of girl who would be in that job. You don’t know a damn thing about me.”
    “I know that you’re not as tough as you think you are.” Those amazingly unique eyes of his narrow, and I suddenly feel like I’m being stalked by a big cat.
    “And you are?” My reaction is knee jerk,