Home > The Heartbreaker (Chandler Brothers #3)(12)

The Heartbreaker (Chandler Brothers #3)(12)
Author: Carly Phillips

Enigmatic, Chase thought. Senator Carlisle’s daughter was searching for some R&R in his little small town? When all the family action was in D.C.? Didn’t seem entirely plausible to him. “Where do I come in?”

“How do you feel about a quid pro quo?” Madeline asked.

Chase shrugged. “Depends on what’s being exchanged.”

“I do like your style.” She tucked her hair behind one ear. “Here’s the deal. You go home early and look out for my daughter. In return you’ll get an exclusive interview with me when this is all over. I’m not certain how long she’ll be there, but I need you to make sure she doesn’t get into trouble and doesn’t call too much attention to herself. The last thing she needs is the press following her around.”

Chase leaned forward in his chair and braced his arms on his knees. “What am I in all this?”

“When it comes to Sloane, you won’t be a reporter, you’ll be a friend.” Madeline’s eyes warmed to her idea. “And any information you want to use on our family, you’ll get from me in our interview. We agreed this was all off the record, remember?”

He remembered, all right. He just felt extremely set up and cornered and didn’t like it one bit. But Roman stood behind him, not objecting to Madeline’s deal. Which meant Roman thought this idea had merit.

Chase scrubbed a hand over his face. “What about protection?” Chase was trained to take in every detail and he’d noticed the Secret Service agents in place around the room where the senator spoke. They had to be protecting Sloane as well.

But Madeline’s next words killed that notion. “She slipped out alone. That’s why she needs you.”

He groaned. “I’m not a bodyguard. And forgive me for prying, but isn’t Sloane a grown woman? Why does she need anyone to look out for her?” The more he thought about it, the more uncomfortable he became with the idea of getting involved with this woman’s daughter in any way. He was a journalist, not a baby-sitter.

“She doesn’t think she needs anyone. It’s me. I need to know she’s okay and has someone to lean on if it comes to that.” Madeline backed up her emotional words by reaching for his hand and holding on tight.

But Chase still felt manipulated. “There’s obviously a lot you aren’t telling me.”

“That’s true. But if you want the exclusive interview, you won’t ask too many questions.

You’ll just go home a day early, find Sloane, and look after her.”

Chase frowned. “Whether she wants me to or not.”

“Exactly. You’re good-looking, charming. I’m sure it won’t be too difficult to win her over.” She patted his cheek. “Make use of those Chandler genes.”

From her confident tone, Chase saw the woman behind the senator for the first time. He understood now she was a crucial partner in the man’s climb to power. Yet, like his brother, he both liked and respected her. She obviously loved her children and would do anything for them—something Chase could relate to.

Family loyalty ran strong in the Chandler clan. Relating to her made it harder for Chase to say no.

Besides, the exclusive interview beckoned. “When her time in Yorkshire Falls is over, you’ll talk to me?”

Madeline nodded. “And if anything happens in the meantime . . . If any information needs to come from my husband’s camp, you’ll be given it first.” She held out her hand to seal the bargain.

Chase had hoped to talk with Madeline this week, but obviously that wasn’t her plan.

He’d also hoped that by coming to D.C., he’d dig up something more on Senator Carlisle.

If Sloane’s disappearance was any indication, Chase was close to something huge.

Something that he might just find at home, in Yorkshire Falls, with the senator’s oldest daughter.

“Do we have a deal?” Madeline asked.

Chase placed his hand in hers, certain he could use this situation to his advantage somehow. “We have a deal.”

She exhaled in pure unadulterated relief. “In case you haven’t seen a close-up picture”—

Madeline held out the photo she’d been zealously guarding—“this is Sloane.”

Shock and disbelief rocked through his system as he glanced at the picture, and into the eyes of the woman he’d taken to bed the night before.

CHAPTER FOUR

Yorkshire Falls was the opposite of the nation’s capital. Small-town USA was an apt description, Sloane thought. Her own hometown was a wealthy community with stately mansions and equally formidable trees. But as she walked down First Street, she took in the small shops and the people who’d congregated to talk, and she liked the homey, close-knit feel. And with each older man she passed, she wondered if she’d just seen Samson. Her father.

She’d left D.C. twenty-four hours ago, but it felt like a lifetime, thanks to the drastic change in scenery. With butterflies in her stomach, she entered a coffee shop named Norman’s, located next to Charlotte’s Attic, a store owned by the same woman her stepmother had befriended and wanted to introduce her to. A woman who crocheted handmade sexy bra-and-panty sets. If Sloane weren’t in such a rush, she’d check the store out here. But she’d come on a mission to warn Samson he was in danger and she intended to accomplish her goal.

Inside Norman’s, she was surrounded by a bird motif. Birdhouses, photos and paintings of bird species, all with a light, airy feel.

A large gray-haired woman walked up to her, menu in hand. “Can I get you a table?”

“Actually, I’m looking for someone.” Sloane smiled. “This seemed like a logical place to start.”

“Honey, everyone who’s anyone in this town comes into Norman’s sooner or later. Who are you looking for?”

“A gentleman by the name of Samson Humphrey,” Sloane said, the name still sounding foreign on her tongue.

To her surprise, the woman burst out laughing, covering her face with a menu and attempting to feign coughing.

“Is something amusing?” Sloane asked, affronted and uncomfortable.

“Oh no.” The woman placed a hand on her shoulder as if they were old friends. “No, honey. Forgive me, please.” She coughed for real this time, then wiped her eyes. “It’s just that Samson’s been called many things, but no one’s ever referred to him as a gentleman before.”

Unsure what to make of the comment, Sloane felt her insides clench hard. “Can you tell me where to find him?”

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