by Mia Carson
A pebble flew past her face, startling her and hitting the door behind her. She jumped, sloshing her wine. A second pebble hit her leg. “What the hell?” she whispered. Confusion wracked her as she looked down into the courtyard, trying to determine the source.
“Must we do this until the glass breaks?” he asked from below.
“Chance?” She recognized his voice.
“Who did you think it was?” he asked.
She rested the glass on the table and stood. She gripped the railing separating her from him by a few feet and looked over. “What?”
“I didn’t see you at dinner,” he said.
“I ordered in.”
“Are you really that much of an introvert, or do I repel you?” he asked.
Claire smiled. “A little bit of both.”
“Ouch!” he cried. “That hurt.”
“You’ll be fine,” she said. “What do you need?”
“Would you mind coming down?”
“I have to pass. I’ve had a long day. I’m not in the mood for company.”
Chance heaved an exasperated sigh. “Why would you come to all the way to the island to spend all your time inside? There’s plenty going on down here. Even my dad is having more fun than me.”
“Why aren’t you having fun?” she asked him.
“Because I’m here trying to get you to come down,” he said.
“I’m sorry, Chance. It’s just a bad time. Maybe tomorrow?”
“Fine.” With a wave, he walked away.
CHAPTER 8
Claire was a hard nut to crack. She was the first woman that had ever said no to him.
“Hello, handsome,” a woman said, interrupting his thoughts.
Chance looked at her, aware that she was obviously trying to flirt with him when she batted her eyelashes and looked at him.
“Hello,” he replied.
“So, are you free tonight?”
“Do you have anything in mind?” he asked her.
“There is a private jacuzzi in my room, and it is awfully big for little old me,” she flirted with him.
Usually Chance asked no questions in these types of situations; he would make her his for the night. And when the morning came, she would be a blubbering mess when she woke up and found him gone. Not only would he be gone, but she wouldn’t be able to get him alone again. Tonight, though, he had another woman on his mind, and the thrill of the hunt was more fascinating than the woman who offered herself whole to him right then.
He smiled and touched her face. “Maybe if we had met two days earlier.”
“Bummer,” she pouted and used her index finger to absent-mindedly pull the lace on her top to reveal firm breasts. “Are you sure?”
Chance could feel the heat rising, and he had to fight to control his urges. “I’m sure.”
As he walked away, he felt like an idiot for refusing someone he was certain he could have in pursuit of a woman who was not even interested in him. He brightened, however, when he thought of all the naughty things he would do to her when he had her to himself. He would not rest until she was completely his, but one thing was sure: to have her, he would have to change his rules of engagement.
***
Chance spent the night tossing and turning in his bed until the heat made it impossible to stay there. He had deliberately chosen the room across the courtyard from Claire, unknown to her, of course. He went out on the balcony and stared across, gritting his teeth at his temporary defeat.
He could see the pale light on the horizon telling him that morning was fast approaching, and he went back into the room and pulled on a pair of running shorts. In two swift motions he was dressed in a white tee as well as his sneakers. Maybe a morning jog would give him some perspective and a different angle to figure out Claire. That was his goal when he left the room, but an hour later he had achieved only sweat and no clarity.
Back in his room, he ripped the towel from the bar in anger and went back out to the balcony. The sun was peeping over the horizon, and he saw movement inside her room. He stepped back behind the curtains so she couldn’t see him, and he watched as she stepped outside with her towel in hand, rubbing her damp hair. Her face was serene, and she wore a smile and a robe; he grew hard just watching her. Chance inwardly cursed her for the effect she had on him; an effect she refused to acknowledge.
As if she was aware of his presence, she looked directly at him and her hands stopped moving. He stepped further into the shadows, but when he stuck his head out again, she was gone. He sighed. This was stupid. A grown man like him acting like a child. He had to get a grip on himself, he thought, as he decided to go down for breakfast.
He was just pouring himself a cup of coffee while he waited for his breakfast when he saw Claire and Amy coming down the stairs. The cup froze on its way to his lips as he watched them, and the pair of eyes he was least interested in found him.
“Chance,” Amy called with a wave.
But his eyes were on Claire, who gave him an odd look and a half-smile and walked to a table. Apparently, she didn’t care about him, and he hated being at a disadvantage. He waved at Amy, who was walking towards him.
“Hi, Amy,” he said, his eyes still glued on Claire.
“Would you like to join us?” she asked, pointing to their table.
Had it been just Amy, he would have refused. But he accepted any invitation that brought him closer to the woman who made him feel something he had never experienced before: rejection.
“Sure,” he said as he followed her to the table where Claire sat, but Claire didn’t seem at all pleased to see him.
“Forgive my intrusion,” he said as he pulled the chair out for Amy, then sat between her and Claire.
“Maybe you should eat at another table,” Claire said as she stuck her knife aggressively into the omelet.
“Claire!” Amy looked at her, appalled, and kicked her under the table. “You’re being rude.”
“Rude? I’m just enjoying my breakfast.”
“That’s not new,” he said to her, and Amy looked at the two of them.
“What?” Claire asked, her tone raised.
“I’m just being honest,” Chance only smiled and dug into his omelet. “So, how’re you enjoying your trip so far?”
“It’s been great,” Amy responded. “You know, I haven’t yet explored the island the way I want to. Maybe you should take me around. And we could have dinner maybe?”
Chance looked at her, unsure how to respond. Her suggestion was rather awkward with everyone sitting there, but hey, at least she was forward. More than he could say for her friend. Maybe it was time he made Claire just a little jealous.
“Dinner would be nice.” He smiled at her and looked sideways at Claire, who didn’t even show the slightest inkling of emotion to him agreeing to dinner with Amy.
Nothing much was said after that throughout breakfast, except when he thanked them for entertaining him and left. He had to get away from them, from her, before she drove him mad. He had never come across a woman who had walls so high he couldn’t breach them, and it unnerved him. For the entire day, he searched the annals of his mind to figure out what made her tick. He came up empty. She was a mystery to him.
She was still on his mind when he met Amy later that night at the same restaurant for dinner. He had bought her flowers, as he always did on a first date. But he wasn’t interested in wooing her, or for that matter breaking her heart. She was a beautiful woman, but she was too easy.
“You look lovely,” he said to Amy as he kissed her hand.
“Thanks.”
“Here,” he said as he offered her a seat.
After a few minutes of conversation with Amy doing most of the talking, they fell into an awkward silence until Amy spoke.
“How bad is it?” she asked. “Your food. You’re picking at it.”
“Huh? Oh,” he said, glancing down at his food. “It’s alright, I guess.”
“You make it look like pr
ison food,” she laughed.
“How would you know what prison food tastes like?” he asked, smiling. Amy laughed at his joke. “Glad I made you laugh,” he said, laughing along.
“So, what’s with you?” she finally asked him.
“What do you mean?” he asked, sipping some water from his glass after answering.
“This. I mean, it’s like you are here, but really not,” she told him. “Did you really want to go to dinner with me, or was that to get Claire’s attention?”
Chance looked at her with shock. “Why would…”
Amy held up her hand to stop him. “Don’t deny it, Chance. You know, I was wondering why you agreed to have dinner with me when we both know you’re not interested in me. I’ve seen the way you look at her. Be honest with me.”
“That obvious, huh?” he asked and tapped the glass on the table. “I’m sure you can imagine a man like me isn’t accustomed to being rejected.”
Amy smiled and swirled the mixer in her glass. “It’s hard for a woman with a broken heart to notice another man, no matter how handsome he is.”
“An ex?” he asked. “I thought she just hated me.”
“No, it isn’t you,” Amy said. “I shouldn’t be saying anything, but this was supposed to be her honeymoon, not a girls’ trip.”
“Her honey…” Chance fell back against the chair and raked his hand through his golden mane. “Fuck! Now I feel like an idiot.”
“You shouldn’t. The day before her wedding she found the asshole with another woman, so trust me, right now, it doesn’t really matter how hot you are, or how nice, or how rich—Claire won’t notice you in the way you want her to.”
But Chance’s mind was already working. Now that he knew what he was dealing with, he could more easily adapt to the situation. He had been blowing in the wind for days, but Amy had given him something to hold on to.
“So, what do you plan to do?” she asked.
“I’m not sure.” He sipped some more water.
“I would advise you not bother her or try to get her to notice you. She has been through enough and doesn’t need her heart broken again. I see the way women look at you, and I’ve seen the way you look back from time to time. She doesn’t need someone like you in her life.”
“You don’t know me, Amy,” he told her.
“I’ve seen enough,” she replied. “I just don’t want to see her get hurt again.”
“Me neither,” Chance said.
“Why do I get the feeling you are not going to leave her alone?” Amy asked as she folded her arms over her chest.
“It’s like a sickness,” he grinned. “I always get what I want. She’s mine.”
“I think this dinner is over,” she said and got up. “Can’t believe I wanted to have dinner with someone so full of himself.”
Chance rose and watched her as she walked away. He should have felt remorseful about making Amy feel bad, but instead, he felt the weight lift from him as he stood there, and suddenly an idea came to him. Claire wasn’t a woman one could wine and dine for a night and forget about the following morning, so smiling and acting the fool would win him no points. He had to be more creative than that, now that he knew she wasn’t stone-hearted after all. He settled the bill, and with a grin on his face made a beeline for the one place he knew would give him something that might bring a smile to her face.
“Hello,” the attendant said as he entered the gift shop. “How may I help you?”
“I’m looking for something special for someone,” he told her. “Something really nice.”
“I see,” she smiled. “Follow me.”
She showed him an assortment of gifts and treats, but none caught his eye; none seemed perfect enough to express what he wanted to say.
“Well, how big is your budget?” she asked him.
“Pretty big,” he told her and grinned. “For her, it’s unlimited.”
“Alright then,” she said as she took him to a section in the back. “This is where we keep our special merchandise for our special clients.”
It didn’t take Chance long to find exactly what he was looking for. He asked her to box it up and make a delivery to room 127.
“She must be a special girl,” the woman commented.
“Very,” he said as he paid for the gift and tipped her handsomely. “Thank you.”
He returned to his room, anxious for the morning when he would see the reaction on her face.
CHAPTER 9
Claire got out of bed, surprised that someone was knocking. She looked over at the clock and saw that it read five minutes after seven. She got up and hurriedly slipped into a robe. “Just a minute,” she called.
When she opened the door, no one was there. She looked down the hallway, but it was empty. She saw the food cart and wondered if someone had left it there by mistake. But her room number was on the card, and though she was suspicious, she wheeled it inside. Maybe her mother had taken the liberty of ordering her breakfast out of concern that she may not be eating properly.
But when she lifted the cover, she saw a large, black box with a velvet exterior. She stood there looking at it for a while before she picked it up and turned it over in her hands. She took a deep breath and opened it. She immediately dropped the box and staggered backwards. Surely someone must have sent the box to the wrong room. With hands covering her mouth and her eyes wide, she ventured closer to the thing once more. She decided to lift the other cover on the cart, and there she saw a note.
“Emerald is a great compliment for hazel eyes.”
Claire replaced the note and opened the box again to admire the gold necklace boasting an emerald pendant shaped like cayenne pepper. It took her breath away, but it didn’t take long for her to realize who the buyer must be. In that moment of realization, she heard the door knock.
She opened the door, box still in hand. “Chance.”
“Good morning, Claire,” he said.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” she said sarcastically as she held the box against her chest. Chance looked a nervous wreck as he stood there with his anxious eyes. Claire almost took pity on him.
“So?” he asked, and folded his arms as if he expected her to roll over after one gesture.
“So what?” she asked, looking at him blankly.
“You like it?”
Claire felt like smacking him. He still held the pompous air that was doing him no favors, and as beautiful as the jewel was, Claire knew she couldn’t take it. “I do,” she murmured as she pushed it towards him. Unfortunately, he chose to come closer to her at that moment so that she ended up touching his chest. She let go quickly before other thoughts started making their way into her mind. He grabbed it before it fell.
Confused, he looked at her. “So why are you giving it back? I went out of my way to get this for you.”
“I didn’t ask you to,” she told him, her arms crossed.
“You didn’t need to; I saw it and I thought I’d get it for you.” He walked past her and to the cart in the room where he set the box down again. “It’s still yours whether you want it or not; I have no use for it.”
“Chance, look,” Claire paused as she searched for the right words. “I came here to get away and to be alone. Yes, you are handsome and a charmer, but don’t waste it on me. Amy has been digging you from the first time she saw you. Why don’t you just stick to the ones who are…”
“Available?” he finished her sentence for her.
“Yes. Available,” she answered, lowering her eyes.
“You know, going out with someone else can be a good way to get your mind off of another,” he told her. “I know he hurt you…”
The look Claire gave him stopped him mid-sentence. “You know what? How do you know someone hurt me?”
“I can tell,” he said nervously and rubbed the back of his neck.
“You’re lying,” she replied. “Admit it.”
“Okay, I admit it. Amy told me why you are here,” he said a
fter a pause. “But that has nothing to do with any of this.”
“I don’t believe this! Why would she be…what did she tell you?” Claire was growing angrier by the minute.
“Nothing much,” he defended. “Just that you were to be married and it didn’t work out so you came here.”
“I think that’s enough,” Claire said, placing her hands on her hips and turning away from Chance. She started crying before she could stop herself.
“Claire?” Chance asked from behind her, moving closer.
“Just go,” she said. Her voice cracked as she stood with her back to him.
“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he whispered, touching her shoulder. “I just thought I’d do something nice for you, to take your mind off him. Any man who does that to you doesn’t deserve your tears.”
“Just go,” she said, but her voice had grown weaker and the sarcasm was gone from her voice. She didn’t want him to go. Not yet.
“You’re too good for him. Don’t you ever forget that,” he said. He released her and left the room.
Claire stood rooted to the spot, crying even after he had gone. Her heart felt heavy and somehow she felt betrayed by Amy. She didn’t need a stranger to know that, let alone a man who was apparently interested in her. She must seem like a fool to him now. And she had no one to blame for that but Amy. She quickly brushed the tears away, dressed in cut-off jeans and a tank, and headed for Amy’s room.
“Amy!” she shouted as she pounded on the door. “Open the door.”
“Claire?” Amy answered from inside her room. “Are you okay?” As soon as Amy opened the door, Claire barged in. “What’s wrong?”