Caribbean Escape with the Tycoon
Page 10
Chanelle couldn’t imagine finding someone who would understand her sensitivities and the demands of her work. Her previous relationship had crumbled because she had made her work a priority.
Maybe she just didn’t know how to be in a balanced relationship.
She had things to work out about herself...her job...her future. So how could she possibly entertain even the remotest idea of being with another man? It hadn’t even crossed her mind when she had booked this cruise...
Chanelle shook her head in frustration. Here she was, stuck and feeling restless in her room, while people were enjoying themselves at events all over the ship. She could be at the featured artist event or magic show, or at the ’70s disco party, or maybe trying out her luck at the casino...
Who was she kidding?
She probably didn’t have the concentration to sit through a gallery presentation, she didn’t know if her head could take the blaring disco music and she didn’t even gamble. Chanelle sighed and impatiently grabbed the pamphlet showing the evening’s events. This was apparently the other side of Sagittarians. The negative side. Restless and impatient. Yup, that was her right now.
Chanelle tossed the pamphlet down. Being highly sensitive hadn’t always worked in her favor over the years. She had taken herself out of play in many situations—often social ones in high school and university, and later, with work colleagues—because of her HSP sensibilities. Which meant she had missed out on fun opportunities because of her inhibitions and inability to loosen up. She hadn’t given herself the chance to explore new friendships, new possibilities.
And in worrying about the negative, she had missed out on the positive.
She was still doing that.
It was time for her to stop second-guessing herself and start taking chances.
Take a leap of faith.
Chanelle stood up and smoothed down her dress. She would not stay cloistered in her stateroom and miss out on the fun on the ship. She freshened up, took a pill for her headache and, after applying a new coat of lip gloss, she grabbed her purse and made her way toward Deck Five.
Her brain might be trying to convince her that Vance Kingston had absolutely nothing to do with her decision, but deep down she knew the opposite was true.
And she was willing to risk everything to discover how he really felt about her by looking into his eyes...
* * *
The captain had welcomed everybody on deck, introduced some of his crew, and was now engaged in the photo session with guests. He’d be at it for a while, Vance thought, eyeing the line. In the meantime, the jazz musicians had begun their repertoire, and couples were already moving toward the dance floor. His mother, Mariah and Adrien had said their good-nights. They would be getting up fairly early to board the tender for Coral Haven, and so would he, but he had told them that he wanted to stay behind for a bit to enjoy the music and relaxed atmosphere.
That had been a white lie. He was waiting to see if Chanelle would come back. His anticipation had caused a tensing of his stomach muscles as he directed regular glances toward all the possible entry points she could take to Deck Five. He had almost finished his brandy, and he’d have to make up his mind whether to order another.
Occasionally a couple or small group of women would come up to chat with him. Some of the women glanced at him with undisguised interest, and he satisfied them with a generous smile and a group selfie if they asked.
The dance floor was filling up. The deck had a patio atmosphere, with strings of multicolored suspended lights that provided a soft illumination under the starry night. And sensual music that made you want to slow dance for hours...
If you had the right woman in your arms.
A waiter came by, and Vance ordered another brandy before walking to the railing to look out at the shifting waves. He couldn’t help thinking that taking a cruise by oneself could be difficult emotionally, especially when couples were dancing nearby, their arms clasped tightly around each other.
Vance felt a jab in his gut. For the first time in his life, he had a feeling that there was something—no, someone—missing in his life. Not that his life had been devoid of women before his father had died. Far from it. But they had all been superficial relationships, with no commitment. He had never pretended to be committed. Wasn’t that the reason he had earned the title of playboy? And he had enjoyed it for quite a while.
But those relationships were over. He didn’t want superficial any longer, he realized. And as Vance stared at the expanse of sea under the stars, he realized something else: he needed to let go of the coping mechanisms he had subconsciously constructed in the past that had affected his relationships.
If he wanted more than just a temporary fling with a woman, he’d have to break down the walls of distrust around his heart and allow himself to be vulnerable. To not withhold his emotions in order to prevent himself from getting abandoned.
And hurt. Like he had done with his father.
His dad was gone.
And after his death, Vance had risked everything for the business. Yes, he had done it initially out of guilt, but as the weeks went by, the sense of guilt had diminished as his interest and passion for the company had grown.
And now his gut was telling him that he needed to take a new risk and allow himself to be open to a serious relationship...
He gulped back the remainder of his brandy. Turning around, his pulse spiked at the sight of Chanelle making her way past a group of couples who were chatting with drinks in hand. Vance saw every movement she made as if his vision had clicked to slow motion mode: the toss of her shiny auburn hair, the tentative smile on her poppy-red lips, the gentle sway of her hips in that fabulous dress and the even more fabulous curves of her legs. And how could he fail to notice the glances directed her way, both male and female?
Chanelle looked more enchanting than ever. And Vance was more than ready to be enchanted. With his heart drumming so loud he couldn’t hear the music around him, he headed toward her.
CHAPTER TWELVE
AT CHANELLE’S FIRST SCAN of the guests on deck, she didn’t see Vance, and disappointment hit her like a cold wave. And then she spotted him leaving his place at the railing and walking toward her, and that cold wave turned into warm and bubbly surf.
Vance extended his hand and she took it, letting him lead her to a table for two further away from the musicians. He asked how she was feeling, and Chanelle told him that she was feeling better. She accepted his offer of a drink, and a waiter returned with a virgin Caesar for her and a coffee for Vance.
“I had my drinks before you arrived,” he told her. “While I was sticking around to see if you’d come back.” He looked at her with those intense blue eyes, and the warm feeling inside her climbed up a few notches.
They sat companionably as they listened to the music and watched the guests dancing. When the jazz musicians took a break, two new performers proceeded to the stage with their Latin guitars. And when they began their second song, Vance asked her to dance.
She could hardly believe that here she was on the second night of the cruise, in the arms of Vance Kingston. Slow dancing...
Chanelle couldn’t blame the drink for feeling as if she were up in the clouds, floating toward heaven. So the only thing she could blame was Vance Kingston, and his touch that was making her pulse throb erratically. And his spicy cologne that was driving her to distraction. She caught her breath as he pressed her closer, and her forehead brushed against his jawline. If she turned to the right, his lips would be close enough to...
This was madness. How had this happened?
Chanelle had not envisioned a man in the picture—her picture—for a long time. And a known playboy, who was doing what he did best: flirting and making her fall for him like every other woman he had played with in the past. Only, unlike those women, Chanelle was neither glamorous nor wealthy...
Chanelle stiffened as the stark truth hit her. The stars in her eyes dissipated and left a dark, black void full of doubts.
“Are you okay, Chanelle?” Vance said huskily against her ear, and she realized that she had stopped dancing.
How could she possibly respond?
She didn’t want to be rude, but she had to protect herself. These were dangerous waters she had entered. And judging from her body’s reaction to the man who had led her there, she had to make her way back to safe shores before something happened that she would regret. In a few days, the cruise would be over. She was delusional if she thought this shipboard flirting could lead to anything else. She had to put a stop to it.
Now. She was way out of her league.
“My headache’s back,” she lied. “I think I’ll just return to my stateroom.”
Vance’s blue eyes pierced hers. He didn’t release her hand, nor his arm around her waist.
“We can go somewhere quieter...”
“I don’t think—” Chanelle hesitated as a couple, locked in an embrace, bumped into them.
Chanelle and Vance broke apart, and after the couple apologized and continued dancing, Vance said brusquely, “Okay, let’s go.”
Chanelle felt his arm around her as he ushered her inside and she was conscious of a few curious gazes following them. Were they thinking that she and Vance...? Her cheeks burned. She hadn’t expected Vance to accompany her.
When they got to her stateroom, Chanelle unlocked the door, opened it a crack, then turned to Vance. “Good night,” she murmured.
His eyes glittered down at her. “How can it be, when you don’t trust me?”
Chanelle’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth and then shut it, completely at a loss for words.
“Chanelle, I haven’t known you for very long, but from the time I have spent with you, I have picked up on a few cues. Like how your lovely cheeks flame up when you’re feeling stressed or distressed.” He cocked his head at her appraisingly. “Now I could be wrong, but I have a wild hunch that you were worried about my intentions and therefore had to come up with an excuse to leave.”
Chanelle’s cheeks were burning. She heard voices approaching from the end of the hall and quickly opened the door wider. The last thing she wanted was people seeing who was at her stateroom door at this time of night. “Please come in for a minute,” she urged.
A few moments later, she had no choice but to face him. And be truthful.
She sighed. “I’m sorry I had to make up a fib this time. I was telling the truth earlier, though, and I did take a pill before going to Deck Five.” She looked up at him warily.
Vance’s mouth quirked, and he reached over to take one of her hands. “Chanelle, I’m not your confessor,” he said huskily. “But please tell me if I’m right. I can handle it.” His eyes met hers without wavering.
Chanelle bit her lip. He had spoken candidly and hadn’t sounded as if he were playing games with her or trying to manipulate her in any way. “You’re right,” she conceded. “I don’t know you very well, and I’m not sure I can trust your intentions. And if you want me to be honest—” she eyed him defensively “—your reputation precedes you.”
Vance’s eyes narrowed. “Ouch. But thanks for being honest.” He looked down at her hand in his and was silent for a few moments. When he looked up, there was regret in the depths of his eyes.
Chanelle felt a twinge of guilt. She hadn’t intended to hurt his feelings. So now what?
“The past is the past,” he said quietly. “I can’t undo that, Chanelle. But I’m not the same man I was nine months ago, and the years before that.” He gently let go of her hand. “The death of a family member changes you...”
Chanelle felt a lump in her throat as Vance’s voice wavered. Maybe it had been wrong of her to bring up his reputation, but it had slipped out before she could think clearly.
She realized the stateroom was dark except for the dim light in the entrance. She should turn on the other lights.
“Now that I know how you feel, Chanelle, would you want to hear the truth about my feelings?”
“You must feel that I’m judging you...”
“No worries. I have a thick skin. Or rather, a layer of chain mail under these clothes.” He suddenly grinned at her. “I’m not called Sir Vancelot for nothing.”
Chanelle couldn’t help smiling, and some of the tension in the air seemed to dissipate.
“So may I have your ear, Lady Chanelle?”
“I suppose I can spare a minute or two,” she murmured. “But then you’ll have to go. I’ve booked an early excursion tomorrow on Grand Cayman.” She strode into the room and turned on a light. She sat on one edge of the couch and Vance sat down beside her.
“Swimming with the stingrays?”
“Not! With my sensitive skin, I’d probably break out in some kind of a rash.”
“Going to Hell?”
“Pardon?”
Vance chuckled. “It’s a town named for its unique rock formations. It’s part of the island tour and includes the turtle center.”
Chanelle laughed. “For a moment I was about to tell you where to go!”
Vance burst out laughing. “And I called you a lady?”
Chanelle pretended to look at him with disdain.
“Well, where will you be heading, my lady?”
Chanelle felt something flip in her chest at the smile in his voice and eyes as he said my lady. “I’m heading to a beach with the name of some kind of alcohol. Whisky Beach or something to that effect.”
He chuckled again. “Rum Point Beach.”
“Yes, that’s it! Rum, whisky—it’s all the same to me, since I indulge in neither.”
“You’re a funny lady.”
“Why? Because I don’t drink much?” Chanelle frowned at him, confused.
“Because you make me laugh.”
“Is that what you wanted to tell me? That you find me amusing?”
Vance gazed at her without responding for a few moments. And then he placed his hand over hers. An inner voice told her to move her hand away, but a stronger voice said the opposite. She couldn’t tear her gaze away, either.
“I want to tell you a lot of things, Chanelle. Yes, I find you amusing. And kind. And dedicated. And—” he squeezed her hand gently “—and beautiful.” His eyes seemed to darken as they gazed into hers with such intensity that she caught her breath. And then he was leaning toward her, and the magnetic force that his eyes had ignited seemed to be pulling her toward him as well.
When their lips touched, her eyes closed automatically and she was unable to process anything else but the instinctive need to respond. She felt Vance release her hand, and a moment later both his hands were cupping her face, deepening his kiss until her whole body tingled. Had a kiss ever felt this sweet? This...delicious?
When he finally pulled back gently to look into her eyes again, Chanelle felt like she was swimming in their darkest, deepest, most pleasurable depths.
She traced her fingers against the stubble of his jaw. Vance caught his breath and suddenly brought her hand down. “I need to go now, Chanelle,” he said gruffly. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to stay and have you regret it later.”
* * *
Vance felt like an absolute heel, leaving Chanelle with that look in her eyes. The look of a dejected puppy. But how could he stay without knowing for sure that she wasn’t just caught up in the moment and later wouldn’t blame him for taking advantage of her?
Kissing her had been his first big mistake. Yes, she had responded, and yes, he had wanted to continue, but something inside him had tugged on the reins of his passion and made him stop. Chanelle Robinson was vulnerable. She had had two big changes in her life in the past year and had booked this cruise to relax and make choices about her future, not get involved with him.
He should have kept it light. They had been laughing, caught up in a play of words, and he had to go and spoil it by letting his testosterone take over.
Vance groaned. He could have even stopped after he had told her that she was beautiful. But he hadn’t been content with the sparkle that had lit up her eyes at his words. He had wanted further proof of her feelings...
Well, he had gotten proof, all right. But when Chanelle had demonstrated her desire, his inner voice had abruptly broken through the sweetness of her kiss to tell him to slow things down, that she was vulnerable and that she needed space to work things out in her life.
He started to unbutton his shirt when a tentative knock on his door made him freeze. His heart jangled against his rib cage. He leaped to open it, but it wasn’t Chanelle standing there. He tried to control his emotions and smiled at the environmental director he had met with earlier. He and Pauline had become friends since he had started working at Zodiac, and she would be leaving the next morning for her upcoming wedding on Grand Cayman Island at the end of the week.
She handed him a gift box. “Since I won’t be at the gala to celebrate your new position, President Kingston,” she said, hugging him.
“Thanks, Pauline. And I have a surprise for you when we’re all back in Toronto.”
“Sounds good,” she said with a laugh. “I like surprises.”
He wished her the best, gave her another hug and watched her leave. Turning to reenter his stateroom, he started at the sight of Chanelle halfway down the opposite hallway, her face as frozen as her body. She had intended to come to his stateroom, he realized, only to find him hugging another woman who was just leaving.
He had to explain...
But before her name had finished leaving his lips, Chanelle had turned around swiftly and disappeared around the corner.