Caribbean Escape with the Tycoon

by Rosanna Battigelli

  “So after Pete was done, we spent a few hours at the casino, then had some amazing Italian food at the Marconi Club.” He chuckled. “Mamma mia, just the memory of it is making my mouth water. I’d go back to the Soo again just for the food. Although—” he raised an eyebrow conspiratorially “—I suspect the people are just as appealing...”

  Chanelle raised her chin. “Yes, we are. And the Soo is a great place to live. Not too big, not too small. I don’t know if I could ever live in a huge city like Toronto or Vancouver. Mind you, I visited Toronto a few years ago. I actually went on a weekend bus tour with a couple of my friends to catch a show at the Princess of Wales Theatre. It was a long trip, though. Eight hours or so.”

  “So you’ve been to my hometown. We have great Italian food, too.” He grinned. “And every other cuisine you can think of.”

  “Do you love it? Living in a huge city, I mean?”

  “I enjoy all the big-city perks, but I do need the occasional getaway.”

  “Where do you get away to?” Chanelle asked casually. “Other than Lake Superior.”

  “British Columbia, Newfoundland, California, the Caribbean...usually a place where there’s a large body of water,” he said with a laugh. “Do you have any special places you like to escape to?”

  “I’ve stayed pretty much close to home,” she said sheepishly. “Worked a lot of overtime hours... But I do have some special spots in and around the Soo. A beautiful beach called Pointe des Chenes. And I’ve camped up north, Lake Superior way. Batchawana Bay, Pancake Bay. I’m a northern Ontario girl. Love my lakes and forests.”

  Vance was staring at her with an intensity that made her breath catch in her lungs. He’s genuinely interested in what I’m saying, she thought in wonder.

  The waiter returned with their orders. Chanelle took a first bite of her crepe and closed her eyes. “Heaven,” she murmured, before realizing she had used the same term Vance had used to describe his gelato.

  “Of course it is.” He nodded. “It’s the nocciola.”

  Hazelnut. Of course. Her workplace was on Queen Street East, within walking distance to the Station Mall, and she often had lunch at one of the eateries there, ending it occasionally with a gelato at the same place he had been to.

  “So we share the same taste in Italian ice cream.” Vance drizzled syrup over his pancakes and cut a wedge. “Delicious,” he said, and slid the plate closer to her. “Want to try?”

  The familiarity with which he spoke made Chanelle’s pulse skip. “That’s okay, thanks. I think I have more than enough on my plate.” Her fork paused in midair. “Literally and figuratively.”

  Vance looked at her thoughtfully. “Are you thinking you might go back to the same job?”

  Chanelle swallowed. “I’m not sure. I loved my job.” She heard the defensive tone in her voice.

  Vance poured more syrup on his second pancake. “What made you decide to get into social work?”

  Chanelle looked down at her half-eaten crepe and tapped it mindlessly with her fork. “I spent my childhood without a father,” she said, “and I became self-conscious when there were events at school where parents were invited. My mother came when she could, but most times, it was too hard for her. She was working two jobs to pay the bills. My grandfather had health issues, so he and my grandma couldn’t always be there, either.” She looked up. “I think subconsciously, I internalized the fact that my father had denied my existence. Even before my mother told me that he had taken off before I was born, I intuitively felt my father’s abandonment.” She paused, expecting to see a skeptical look in Vance’s eyes, but what she saw were his furrowed brows and eyes narrowed in concern.

  “I know now that having a sharper intuition is characteristic of a highly sensitive person. Which is why, I believe, I knew early in life that I wanted to help others, starting with my mother. I felt her pain, even though she tried to put up a good front. So I helped around the house without being told, was a high achiever at school, did everything possible to avoid making life harder for her.” She gazed away from Vance, recalling how happy she had been when her mother eventually married her stepdad. On the other hand, her unresolved feelings about her biological father had continued to intensify over the years, and she had felt lingering hurt and resentment that he hadn’t valued her from the moment he’d known she existed, hadn’t deemed her worthy to claim her as his daughter.

  Parker’s breaking off their engagement and leaving had ignited similar feelings...

  Stop thinking about Parker, she chided herself. He’s not worth it. She turned her gaze back to Vance, who was still looking at her with an intensity that made her heart twinge, but not in a hurtful way.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sure you don’t want to hear me keep chattering incessantly.”

  “Don’t be sorry, Chanelle. It’s obvious that your caring personality growing up under challenging circumstances was a good indication that you’d eventually choose a helping profession.”

  “Some kids had it worse than I did. One of my classmates came to school with bruises on her arms and face one Friday. I felt so bad for her. She had moved to town about a couple of months earlier, and we were getting to be good friends.”

  Chanelle gave a shiver. “Kayla had parents, but the rumor was that they were drug addicts. She told the teacher that she had fallen down some stairs, and she was quiet all day. She didn’t tell me anything. The teacher told the principal, and on Monday, Kayla didn’t show up.” They had been in grade nine, and the defeated look she had seen in Kayla’s eyes had haunted her all weekend.

  Chanelle drew in a deep breath. “We found out that Children’s Aid had investigated and removed Kayla from her home immediately. Fortunately, she had a caring aunt out of town who took her in.” Chanelle couldn’t keep her eyes from blurring. She wiped at them hastily with her napkin. “I knew then that I wanted to become a social worker so I could protect children from abusive or neglectful family members.” She sniffed. “I never saw Kayla again, but I have something she had given me for Kris Kringle.” Chanelle extended her arm to show Vance the bracelet around her left wrist that Kayla had woven with a variety of colorful threads.

  “You’ve kept it all these years?” Vance looked at her incredulously.

  Chanelle nodded. “I became a child protection worker because of her.” She smiled. “I don’t usually wear it around the clock, only when I’m at work. You could say it’s my Sagittarian quiver, loaded with arrows. I know it may sound silly, but wearing the bracelet makes me feel strong, makes me believe that I have the protection I need, especially when I have to rescue kids.”

  “Wow,” he said huskily, shaking his head. “Wow.” He reached out to take her hand and stroked the bracelet thoughtfully with his thumb. “It’s not silly at all, Chanelle.” Suddenly his other hand closed over hers as well. Chanelle’s heart flipped and started thumping so hard she missed most of what Vance was saying next.

  Her stupefied look must have clued him in. “You’re stronger than you think,” he repeated, his eyes narrowing. He withdrew his hands as the waiter appeared, asking them if he could take any plates away.

  They both nodded, and when the waiter was gone, Chanelle gave a big sigh. “I’m hoping that while I’m on the cruise, wearing the bracelet will help me decide where to go from here...” She let her gaze drift beyond Vance to the sky, now a deep azure that seemed to be an extension of his eyes. “But right now, I just can’t see myself in another job.”

  “Give yourself time, Chanelle,” he murmured. “You’ll know when the time is right... So while you’re on this cruise, I want you to give yourself permission to relax and have fun. Live a little. You deserve it.” He stood up. “Starting now. Captain’s—no, president’s orders. Got it?” He looked at her sternly then flashed her another one of his ridiculously gorgeous brighter-than-sunshine smiles.

  Chanelle pulled her chair back
and rose. “Got it,” she said, flinging her hair back. “I’d hate to disobey and end up walking the plank.”

  He burst out laughing. “Are you implying, fair lass, that I have the black heart of a pirate?”

  Chanelle’s pulse vaulted, his words and hearty laugh evoking an image of him in full pirate regalia standing on the bow of a treasure ship, one eye covered by a black patch, the other pinning her with the same crystal clarity as the turquoise waters below.

  She couldn’t stop the corners of her mouth from lifting. “If not a pirate, then perhaps a scallywag,” she said, feigning haughtiness. And flipping her hair back, she strode off toward the exit.

  * * *

  After Chanelle disappeared, leaving him dazed with the memory of her flashing eyes and pixy smile, Vance checked in on his mother, Mariah and Adrien, and then returned to his stateroom to try to sort out some issues that were playing around in his mind as well as the jumble of emotions Chanelle had activated in his gut.

  Some of the details that Chanelle had shared about her life had disturbed him. His gaze had been riveted to the shifting emotions on her face as she’d told him about her father abandoning her and her mother’s challenges raising her, and he had felt his stomach twist at the difficulties she had experienced. And when she had teared up about Kayla, he had felt a strong urge to wrap his arms around her and hold her head against him.

  Her impish smile as she strode off after implying he was a scallywag had caused a different feeling in him—a hammering in his chest that had reverberated throughout his body...

  Now, stretched out on the recliner on his balcony, Vance thought again of Chanelle’s early years growing up without a father. His own father had been present only minimally, so he could just imagine what Chanelle had felt, especially being so sensitive.

  Vance’s memory shifted to how he had immersed himself in a new and heavily structured routine after his father had passed. This week—with nothing specifically planned except for the midweek gala—was throwing him off. He might have been more laid-back when it came to work in the past, but that had changed dramatically in the last nine months. He had conditioned himself to get up at 5:00 a.m. every morning, work out at the gym in his condo, shower, have breakfast and be at the office before eight. And most nights, he wasn’t back at his condo until after nine.

  He’d had no time to think about women.

  Until yesterday, after seeing an auburn-haired beauty trying to rescue his nephew from danger.

  And after spending some time with Chanelle Robinson in the Mezza Luna Ristorante, and foolishly inviting her to have breakfast with him in the Constellation Club this morning, he was now in danger of losing his resolve to focus on work, not women. Or more specifically, this woman.

  Vance pursed his lips. He would be on this cruise for three more days after today. And when the cruise was over, he’d never see Chanelle Robinson again. He might not even run into her for the remainder of the cruise.

  The important thing to remember was not to seek her out. It would only weaken his resolve. So despite the undeniable way his senses were stirred around her, he had to ensure that he did not act on his feelings. How could he take advantage of her in the vulnerable state she was in, having suffered a broken relationship and work stress?

  You’ve changed, big boy, whether you like it or not.

  He froze at the words that had shoved their way into his consciousness. They were true. Before his father died, Vance had never suffered pangs of guilt around relationships, familial or otherwise. He had justified his rebelliousness as a teen and young adult as his way of striking out at a father who was never home. A father who seemed to care more about work than his kids...

  The feeling of guilt had sprung up when his father died, knowing he had allowed his built-up resentment to stop him from granting his dad’s dying request. Since then, he had been trying to make up for it.

  Yes, he had changed, all right.

  He had made work his priority, just as his father had done, and slowly, Vance had begun to understand how a person could become consumed with work, with passion, to the point of neglecting everything else.

  He could congratulate himself for repressing his playboy ways while focusing on carrying out his father’s last wish, but he couldn’t deny that certain feelings had been reactivated.

  By a fascinating woman who probably wanted nothing to do with him or any other man right now...

  But it wasn’t just her outer beauty that attracted him. He was intrigued by the depth of her character, her small-town charm and honesty. Her devotion to her job, the children she was so passionate about protecting. Her goodness.

  And how could he not be affected by those limpid green pools for eyes, those peachy cheekbones and silky lips? How could he ignore the sleek curves of her body...and that riotous head of hair that he envisioned blowing in the wind as she stood on a rocky outcrop looking out at the endless ice-blue waters of Lake Superior? A Sagittarian warrior, softhearted yet strong and determined, ready to fling her Archer’s arrow...

  A thought entered his consciousness, shocking him like his very first dip in Lake Superior.

  He was falling for Chanelle Robinson.

  Falling hard and seeing stars...

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHANELLE HAD WATCHED Vance leave in a swirl of emotions. She had felt some undercurrents in Vance’s presence...undercurrents that confused her. Like the intensity in his gaze earlier in the elevator. It had only lasted for a couple of seconds, but the expression in his electric-blue eyes as he looked down at her had galvanized her to the core. And then minutes later, in the Constellation Club, his expression had been genuinely reassuring, making her doubt her earlier assessment.

  But the way he had been so attentive, fixing her with that enigmatic gaze, was causing uncertainty in the pit of her stomach about his true feelings.

  What true feelings? an inner voice scoffed. You just met the guy. Do you actually think he has feelings for you? And if you’re feeling anything for him, it’s because he’s gorgeous and rich. And what’s wrong with that?

  Chanelle scowled. Yes, how could she not find Vance Kingston attractive? Very attractive. The memory of the Aquarius tattoo on his muscled back made her catch her breath. But it hadn’t been thoughts of his wealth that had generated flutters in her chest, that had sent tingles to every part of her. It was the way he had given her all his attention, as if her every word mattered to him. It was how he had validated her by listening to her story, acknowledging her strength, showing concern for her work situation and encouraging her to give it time and to have fun on the cruise.

  She couldn’t dispute the fact that Vance Kingston was gorgeous and rich. He had asked her to join him for breakfast and he had shown himself to be considerate and thoughtful. But it was just plain silly to think that the president of Zodiac Cruises was at all interested in her in any other way.

  And even if he was taking a break from his playboy lifestyle for the sake of work—if the articles online were true—Chanelle couldn’t imagine someone like him changing his ways after his self-imposed period of solitude.

  She shook her head impatiently. Vance had taken up enough of her head space. She was here to relax and enjoy the cruise, just as he had suggested, and not to waste time fantasizing about him or any other man.

  Chanelle focused her attention on the Star Guide, an interactive screen that displayed a map of the entire ship and the features on every deck. She decided on a visit to the art gallery on Deck Five. The stunning art collection would be a welcome distraction from her thoughts of Vance Kingston.

  There were dozens of international artists featured, not only in the gallery itself, but displayed along the walls on each deck. Chanelle spent close to an hour marveling at the diversity of styles, the vibrancy of the colors and the intricacy and detail in each painting. One particularly captivated her, with its depiction
of a moonlit and starry sky mirrored in the indigo-blue undulations of the sea. It was called Enchantment, and simply signed SV.

  A glance at the price made Chanelle’s eyes widen. A fairy godmother would have to appear and sprinkle some magic fairy dust in Chanelle’s wallet for her to be able to afford it.

  Chanelle picked up a complimentary booklet showcasing the artists and their works but couldn’t find anything about the artist and his or her painting. An elegantly dressed woman sitting at an ornate French Provincial desk walked over with a smile and told Chanelle that the artist wished to remain anonymous. She gave Chanelle a card with information about the champagne art auction that would be taking place during the mid-cruise gala, and explained that there would be many more pieces featured. And complimentary champagne, of course, a door prize, and some special surprises...

  Chanelle slipped the invitation into her handbag and smiled her thanks at the woman before moving on. It sounded like fun, but she doubted that there would be a painting that her budget could accommodate.

  Chanelle slowed her pace as she entered the Galaxy Shops. She had splurged on booking the cruise itself and had vowed to be strict with herself when it came to shopping, whether on the ship or during her off-ship excursion. But there was no harm in just looking, she told herself, surveying the luxurious brands of purses and luggage. She checked the price of a coral clutch that caught her eye and sighed before moving on to the jewelry displays. One of the sales staff approached her with a welcoming smile, telling her about the day’s special of fifty percent off select brands. Chanelle thanked her, flushing, and told her that she’d have a good look. Which wasn’t exactly lying. She would look through the sparkly selection.

  A pair of ruby earrings in a flower design caught her eye. She noticed the price, then began to walk away. How could she justify spending money unnecessarily, especially when she wasn’t one hundred percent sure that she would be returning to her job in a month’s time? How was she supposed to recover from five years of intensive work stress in one month? And then what? Would she be ready to get right back into it?