I am totally, completely, head over heels in lust for Chance.
If it were any other guy, I’d know I could just have a one night wonder quickie and move on. That’s been my style with almost every other man in the past. Not many have been memorable enough to leave me keen for more, if I’m brutally honest. But Chance…
I still remember the godawful wrenching pain of losing Chance. He’s the reason I’ve decided never to deal with all that shit again. I’d have to be mad to put myself through it. I’d be utterly crazy to trust him.
All I can do is hope that he’ll keep his distance and eventually lose interest. Pray that everything he spilled out in the restaurant were words and nothing more. A meaningless ploy to get me back into bed.
Do I really believe that?
No. But if I don’t keep trying to convince myself, I’ll do something really stupid.
I come out of the sea shivering, even through my wetsuit. I’ve overdone it. Stayed out way too long. We stagger back up the stairs to the house, peel out of our damp things and hang them up in the wetroom. Grace, the angel, has two steaming mugs of hot chocolate waiting.
“It’s too bad James got married,” Mariam says as we towel off our hair. “If this is what you get for screwing a billionaire, I wouldn’t mind a piece of the action. Has Chance got any other brothers?”
I shoot her my filthiest glare. “I’m not screwing anyone.”
She laughs. “That’s what you used to say when we were younger.”
I fling my towel at her head and stalk off to my own bathroom to shower.
When I come out, dressed in one of my new sets of satin pyjamas with my hair still damp, there are voices coming from the hallway. One belongs to a man. Not Chance. I glance out of the floor-to-ceiling window and see a red Lamborghini in the driveway.
That’s odd. Chance didn’t say anyone else was staying here. He said we’d have the place all to ourselves.
I tiptoe downstairs to find out what’s going on.
There’s a tall stranger standing in the hallway. He’s got a mess of dark hair falling into his eyes – but that’s the only soft thing about him. Dark stubble grazes his chiselled jaw, which is clenched sternly now in anger. His arms are folded across his chest, bulging with thick lines of muscle. He’s wearing shiny black brogues, a long grey coat that looks tailor-made, and a glowering frown. The air around him stinks of power, money, and that fact that he’s extremely pissed off.
I take a step closer. Wait – he’s not a stranger. It’s James Kelsey from Mayhew Sixth Form.
Mariam’s standing opposite him, hands on her hips. The raised voices I heard were obviously the start of an argument. At school, Mariam and James were bad news together. Both too outspoken for their own good. But James was the bad boy with the rough background, skipping lessons and slagging off the teachers. Mariam thought he was a waste of space.
Evidently his change in fortunes hasn’t done much to change that opinion.
“I don’t care what Chance did or didn’t tell you,” James is saying. His voice has deepened over the years. It’s a low, dangerous growl now. “You have five minutes to get out of this house. Or I’ll drag the pair of you out by your ears.”
“You don’t frighten me, Kelsey,” Mariam laughs. “Go on and give it a try.”
Behind James, a woman shoulders her way into the hall with a chubby baby balanced on her hip. The little girl looks less than a year old. She’s got the widest blue eyes I’ve ever seen – the same piercing crystal as James’s. The woman takes in the scene in front of her and gives a little sigh, half-smiling, half-grimacing. She resettles the baby in her arms and moves to stand next to James. I realise I must be looking at his wife.
“So much for our family weekend away. I should’ve known you had an ulterior motive.”
“Who the hell are you?” Mariam demands, staring at her. I have to admit, James Kelsey with a baby is a sight I never thought I’d see.
“Mariam,” I warn her, hurrying down the stairs. This must be Clarissa. Something about her calm and gentle manner in the face of the tension in the air makes me immediately warm to her. I don’t want Mariam kicking off – no matter what James has said.
“This is my wife, Clarissa,” says James. He puts an arm around her shoulders protectively. Mariam blinks.
“You don’t look like there’s anything wrong with you. Whatever convinced you to take up with a cocky bastard like him?” she asks. James looks about to explode, but Clarissa responds with a sweet smile.
“Bad luck, I suppose. Are you guests of Chance’s?”
Mariam laughs and extends her hand. Clarissa hands the baby to James to shake it. The moment his daughter is in his arms, his face visibly softens. Good move, I think.
“Mariam Jacobs. Pleased to meet you.”
“Oh. I was sorry to hear about your grandmother. How is she doing now?”
“Much better. Thanks. And this is my sister, Zara.”
Clarissa’s eyes rake over me in a slow, knowing inspection. I get the feeling she knows exactly who I am. Hell, that’s something I doubt even I know right now.
“Chance’s old friend, Zara,” she repeats carefully. I find myself blushing.
“Yes, she’s that Zara,” James interrupts, before I can answer. “And that’s why the Jacobs sisters are not welcome in this house. Not now and not ever. Pack your things and go, ladies. If Chance isn’t going to stand up for himself, the least I can do is take the trouble for him. I came down here the moment Grace called and mentioned you were staying here – and I won’t leave until you’re gone. Not just from this house. For good. I’ll chase you all the way back to Malaysia if I have to. I’ll put you on the plane myself.”
Clarissa chucks the baby under the chin. “This is our daughter, Annie,’ she says, as if James isn’t trying to throw us out of the country. ‘Perhaps we should all have a cup of tea and talk things over together?”
“I’m not talking to anyone,” snarls James. “This girl –” He’s pointing at me – “is bad news. She stays away from my brother of her own accord, or I’ll make her stay away. Do you understand me, Zara?” He takes a step towards me. I don’t feel threatened, even though he’s big enough to lift me into the air and carry me off down the steps kicking and screaming if he wanted to. But it’s obvious he means business. “Chance is not an option for you anymore. Get that into your head and get gone.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” sighs Mariam. “She’s not interested in your poxy brother, James.”
“Then why is she here?”
“To surf,” I snap. All three heads turn to look at me. I almost cringe under the weight of their attention. “I’m here to surf and to swim and to be left the hell alone. By all of you.”
I grab my coat from the rack and shove past James, out onto the wind-whipped pathway that leads onto the clifftop. I hear shouting break out between James and Mariam as I go, but I can’t bring myself to turn back.
Instead, when I feel the phone in my pocket clunk against my leg, I pull it out and write a text to Chance.
You sent your brother to deal with me?
I’m out on the clifftop, the salty wind lashing the hair into my eyes, when the phone buzzes with his response. There’s a missed call, too, but the signal here’s patchy and I didn’t receive it.
No. Why? What’s James done now?
There’s a bench around the corner. Out of sight of the house. I sit down and stare at the waves as the sky grows dimmer by faint degrees and the sun dips ever closer towards the sea, huge and red. My phone buzzes again.
Hang tight. DON’T GO ANYWHERE. On my way.
I tap the screen thoughtfully. Relief is washing through me. Relief, and more than that…
Hope. And anticipation.
I realise I’m glad Chance is coming. I don’t know what will happen when he gets here, but right now I’m sitting on a bench watching the sun set over the ocean and all I can think about is having his arms around me and his lips
on mine.
I just hope that when he gets here, that’s what he wants, too.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Chance
I was working this weekend. Drowning in work is the only way I can take my mind off Zara these days. So when her message comes through I’ve already had a full day at the office. Then it’s a five hour drive to Cornwall.
Thankfully, my Ferrari can make the kind of speeds that aren’t technically allowed on the roads. But it does come in handy in situations like this. I cut those five hours down to four.
The whole way down my heart is hammering against my ribcage like a pneumatic drill. I don’t know what kind of situation I’ll find when I get there. I just know that I’m all too familiar with James’s monumental ability to fuck things up. Particularly when it comes to women.
Ok, so in this instance I can’t really blame him. James is fiercely protective over everyone he loves – and with good reason. He’s lost too much to be any other way. I’m sure he remembers the total mess I was when Zara broke things off last time. I did stupid things to dull the pain. Idiotic things. Almost got myself killed in the overload of drink and misery. Got addicted to crazy, daredevil stunts to drown out the pain. One night he had to drive me to A&E with a knife sticking out of my hand because someone bet me I could throw it down between my fingers. I would’ve done anything to get a kick of adrenalin big enough to wipe the memories from my mind.
I’m not proud of who I was back then. It was a dark fucking time. But I’ve grown now.
Yes, I’ve grown, and I still want her. I can’t get her out of my head. I wonder if the inevitable telling off I’m going to get from James is the right idea.
Doesn’t matter. Zara’s what it’s all about for me. She’s the beginning and the end.
My car screeches to a halt outside the beach house. James’s Lamborghini is already there and waiting. I enter the house to find an ominous silence.
Ok. It could be worse. There could be smashing plates.
I trot up to the living room and find James, Clarissa, and Mariam sitting around, drinking – beer for Mariam, but Clarissa’s on lemonade – whisky for James, from my private reserve of Macallan Pure, the bastard – and talking quietly. Just like old school friends catching up. Nothing untoward. But no Zara.
Clarissa sees me first. The tension on her face tells me immediately that all’s not what it seems. “Chance. I wondered if you’d come.”
“Where’s Zara?” I ask, directing my question at James. “Also: what the hell?”
“She went out for a walk,” says Mariam.
“When? Where?”
“About four hours ago.”
I grab my coat again. Mariam moves to stop me. “Trust me. She’s not in the kind of mood you want to disturb. Just leave her be –”
“Fuck that.” I shrug the coat over my shoulders. It’s dark outside and it’s a strange coastline. Plenty of uneven pathways and rocky, unstable cliff edges. I don’t want Zara out there alone a minute longer than she has to be.
“Chance,” says Clarissa nervously, “there’s something you should know first. Something that doesn’t quite make sense, but…”
“Later.” I give them a brief wave and head on out. James follows me. “I’m not talking to you,” I tell him, redundantly. It’s tough to stay mad at my brother for long, but I’m going to do my damn best today.
“You’re making a big fucking mistake with this girl,” he says.
“For god’s sake, James. I didn’t ask for your opinion. I didn’t ask you to come down here and meddle in my life and mess everything up for me.” My fists are clenching in frustration. I take a couple of breaths to calm down, step out of the front door into the cool night air. It helps.
James is giving me a wry smile. “That’s what family does, bro. If I recall correctly.”
“Oh, sod off. Which way did she go?”
He points. I give him a hard look and set off in the opposite direction. James laughs, shaking his head, and shuts the door.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Zara
There’s a figure coming along the clifftop in the darkness. It’s tall and elegant against the starlit sky. It moves with an easy grace that is unmistakeably Chance.
My heart leaps up when I see him, but my stomach dissolves into nervous flutters. I don’t know what I’m going to say. I don’t even know whether he’s spoken to James or not.
What if he agrees I’m nothing but bad news?
I get up from my bench – a different one now; it feels like I’ve sat and lost myself in miserable thoughts at just about every spot from here to Land’s End – and walk towards him. We meet on an outcrop of rocks at the edge of the cliff path. Stars wheeling above us. Waves crashing below.
Chance takes my face into his hands and this time, yes, this time he kisses me so deeply I forget about everything else in the world. His lips are soft and warm and I can’t get enough of them. We kiss for a few brief seconds which feel like hours and yet when we pull apart I almost want to cry because it hasn’t been enough.
He brushes his knuckles softly against my cheek. “That was a long time coming.”
I rest my forehead against his. “I’m sorry. Before, I just… I couldn’t…”
“No. No. Don’t apologise. Just kiss me again. Just kiss me and don’t ever stop.”
My mouth opens under his. His tongue slides against mine. It feels so good, so right and perfect and unexpectedly hot, that I let out a moan. Chance groans in response and pulls me close against him. His hands find mine and our fingers intertwine.
“Christ, Zara! You’re freezing,” he mutters, rubbing my hands in between his.
“I can’t feel the cold.”
“Liar. Let’s get you inside. Come on. We’re ages from the house. I was starting to think I wouldn’t find you.”
“I wasn’t worried,” I grin. But I can’t help shivering. Now that Chance is near me, warmth radiating from his body like the sun on a summer’s day, the night air seems to cut right through the thin pyjamas I’m wearing under the coat. He takes off his coat immediately and wraps it around my shoulders, silencing my protest with his lips on mine.
“How did you leave James and Mariam?” I ask, though I don’t think I really want to know the answer. Chance frowns.
“They seemed…calm.”
“Thank god. They were ready to scratch each other’s eyes out when I left.”
“I’m sorry about James. He’s very, ah, straightforward.”
“Is that what you call it?” I laugh. “Mariam’s the same. She just wants to protect me.”
Chance’s hand tightens around mine. “I have no intention of letting you go again, Zara. I hope you know that.”
The moonlight throws his chiselled face into sharp relief. He’s breathtakingly handsome in the dark. His eyes fasten on mine with a deep intensity that blows me away. A thousand feelings rush back through me. The memories of what we used to feel each other – that perfect certainty we shared when we thought forever really meant forever. Now, looking into Chance’s eyes, I’m starting to believe it’s all true again.
Part of me wants to ask him why. Why did he leave me, all those years ago? If he still feels so strongly, after all this time, how could he have cut me off so cruelly back then?
The pain and loneliness of that wasted decade rises up in my throat. I can’t speak now. If I say a word, I’ll cry.
Chance wraps his arms around me and holds me tight against his chest. My breathing slowly quietens. He feels so right, so perfect. I want desperately to believe that everything he says is true. But there are questions in my mind that need answers.
His hand gently strokes my hair. “I never gave up hope,’ he says. ‘Even when everyone told me it was impossible, even when I had to pretend I’d forgotten you to stop people thinking I was mad, I never stopped believing you’d come back to me.”
This hurts more than I can explain. I have too many questions – but I can’t bear to as
k them now. I don’t want to hurt him by making him look insincere. Isn’t it enough that he wants me now? Why do I care what he wanted when we were both young, stupid, inexperienced?
But I do care. I want to know why. I just… I can’t bring myself to spoil this moment by asking.
I let Chance kiss me again. This time my mind is churning, and I can’t lose myself in the perfection of his taste, of his touch, the way I did before. We walk back to the house without saying anything more. I’m really starting to shiver in the cold. Chance seems to notice that there’s something wrong, but I play up my tiredness and the chill and he accepts it – for now.
The lights of the beach house are blazing out across the bay. I know it’ll be warm and inviting inside. A fire blazing in that huge fireplace. It’s exactly the kind of place Chance and I used to dream about – back when we wrote our dreams of the future together.
James and Mariam greet us in the living room with solemn faces. Clarissa’s sitting by the fire, Annie asleep on her lap. It would be a cosy little scene if everyone didn’t look so grim. Chance settles his arm across my shoulders and pulls me close to him. I see Mariam’s eyebrows hit the roof, but I like it.
It feels good. It feels like I belong to him.
“You should probably sit down,” Mariam says. She pretends not to notice Chance’s arm around me, but the stiffness in her voice tells me it’s bugging her. “We’ve had a talk, and there’s something weird going on here. Something you ought to know about.”
“Are you sure you’re not too tired?” Chance asks me. I shrug.
“I can hear them out.”
James is at the minibar, pouring Chance a slug of whisky. He turns to me with forced politeness. “What do you want to drink?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
He glances from me to Chance and back again. “You’re probably going to need one.”
Taking His Own Page 12
