Caribbean Escape with the Tycoon

by Rosanna Battigelli

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  AFTER VANCE HAD left her stateroom, Chanelle had remained transfixed on the couch, her face feeling as numb as her brain. What had just happened?

  Vance had ignited something within her that she had never experienced in her previous relationship. A combination of feelings that had produced an alchemy that was powerful, magical.

  A desire to know Vance to the core.

  The magic had been sparked by his touch, his kiss, his words...

  And then he had pulled away.

  Because he had thought that if he stayed, she might regret it later...

  He couldn’t have been more wrong.

  Chanelle had stared woodenly at the door, considering a swirl of other possible reasons for his decision. Farfetched though it seemed, could it be that deep down, he was worried about her motives?

  That she was really after his money and was trying to ensnare him?

  Chanelle did not want to accept the excuse Vance had used. He had pinned his decision on her, making it look as if he was considering her feelings before his own. Feelings that she might have regrets if they had allowed their passion to play out...but then, she was terrified of getting hurt again. Did she go into self-protection mode whenever things got serious? Maybe...

  But he had decided to play it safe and deny them both what they had been close—so close—to experiencing.

  And he hadn’t given her a say about it.

  Chanelle had felt shortchanged. With an unexpected surge of warrior determination, she had leaped off the couch and decided to talk to Vance, thinking that at the very least, she could ask him to open up about his true feelings, just as she intended to be about hers.

  And then, whatever would be, would be...

  Minutes later, the elevator had opened to the lobby on Vance’s deck. Chanelle’s nerve endings were practically crackling, and she had breathed deeply to try to steady her heartbeat. She had turned into the long hallway, only to spot a woman wearing the familiar Zodiac employee blazer hugging Vance. And then he was telling the woman that he had a surprise for her when they were back in Toronto. She had laughed, and then Vance had given her another hug.

  At this point Chanelle’s feet had felt cemented to the floor. Like in a nightmare, with her vocal cords frozen as well.

  Seconds later, Vance had gazed her way, and Chanelle had clearly seen the dismay on his face.

  She hadn’t wanted to stick around. Nothing he attempted to say would have mended the gash in her heart.

  Once a playboy, always a playboy, she had thought bitterly as her gaze dropped to his unbuttoned shirt. And she had turned and fled, taking the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. It was only when she had arrived back in her stateroom, and she had bolted the door, that she had burst into tears.

  Damn him, she thought now between sobs. He had played her for a fool. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to stay. He had planned an encounter with an employee he was obviously involved with on the ship and back in Toronto.

  Well, he could have her. And while he was at it, he could also go to hell.

  * * *

  Vance had considered running after Chanelle but had decided against it. She would not have wanted a scene of any kind in front of other guests. He would wait awhile and then go and knock on her stateroom door. And hope that she would let him in and give him the chance to explain.

  Would she hear him out after what she had witnessed? Being highly sensitive, Chanelle would have arrived at the worst possible conclusion about him. And he couldn’t blame her.

  Putting himself in her shoes, he could understand why she wouldn’t want to face him. She had been on her way to see him—that alone made his heart twinge—only to find him hugging another woman. And Chanelle must have heard the exchange between him and Pauline as well. His promise of a surprise when they were back in Toronto...

  He had to talk to Chanelle. Make her understand...

  Vance had another thought. Chanelle was probably not only thinking the worst about him, but also about herself. That hurt even more. He groaned. Chanelle had had a rough year personally and professionally, and the tenuous feelings of trust that she had shown him must have immediately shattered. He had seen it on her face.

  She would be blaming herself for having allowed him to get so close...and feeling humiliated...

  Vance rose and strode to the door. It was almost midnight, but there would be no rest tonight unless he got through to Chanelle. He did up the buttons on his shirt and headed to her stateroom, his pulse as fast as his footsteps.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHANELLE LOOKED AT herself in the bathroom mirror. Her eye makeup had smeared from all the crying she had done, and her eyelids were puffy. Absolutely beautiful, she thought bitterly, using Vance’s earlier words.

  Chanelle was too upset to even attempt sleeping, so instead of changing into her teddy, she put on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Knowing that her thoughts would just continue to torment her, she turned on the TV and started flicking the channels mindlessly. Propped up on pillows against the headboard, she felt a flutter of anxiety at the thought of having to spend three more days on the cruise with the possibility of crossing paths with Vance.

  If she did run into him, she would not let him see how shattered she was. She had her pride.

  And she had absolutely no intention of seeking him out. Not a chance in hell. She had allowed herself to succumb to his charms and had ended up feeling like a complete fool.

  As she continued changing the channels, Chanelle realized she was clenching her jaw again. And watching TV wasn’t helping. She pressed the off switch and turned off all the lights except the lamp by her bedside. She breathed in deeply and tried to focus on the sound of the waves from the open balcony door.

  Her attempt at mindful meditation was interrupted by a soft tap at her door. Chanelle felt her stomach coil instantly into a hard knot. She remained motionless. Had it been her imagination?

  The knock came again. “Chanelle? Please give me a chance to explain...”

  Chanelle’s heart tumbled crazily against her rib cage. She couldn’t believe that Vance had the nerve to think that she would give him the time of day. Or night. The last thing she intended on doing was opening the door and letting him in. She had made that mistake once, and she wouldn’t be so foolish as to allow him in her space again.

  “Chanelle? I know it sounds like a cliché, but it’s not what you think. You’ll understand if you let me in.”

  Vance was keeping his voice low, but Chanelle could hear both urgency and frustration in it.

  “I don’t want to explain out in the hall... Please answer, Chanelle.”

  Chanelle turned off her lamp and pulled the covers over her head.

  There’s your answer, Mr. Kingston.

  * * *

  She woke up to a baby-blue sky that was painted with soft brushes of pink. It was such a peaceful sight and a sharp contrast to how she felt inside. She couldn’t get the memory of Vance and the woman out of her mind. She had had a troubled sleep, waking up every two to three hours, and at one point, she had almost been tempted to go to an upper deck to walk around and clear her head.

  Chanelle was glad she had set her cell phone alarm. She couldn’t wait to get off the ship and spend the day by herself on Rum Point Beach. Sure, there would be other guests who would be thinking along the same lines, but she was determined to find a quiet spot and just forget everything that had happened to her so far.

  She stepped into the shower and tried to keep thoughts of Vance from following her in. Fat chance. How could she forget the feel of him as they danced? The muscled shoulders, his hand firmly clasping hers...and then later, the heady sensation as his lips took possession of hers...

  Stop! He used you!

  Chanelle turned off the shower. That’s what she should be focusing on, not
his body or his lips, she thought, scowling. She wrapped herself in the guest bathrobe and a few moments later changed into a navy bikini before slipping on a knee-length yellow cotton dress with eyelet accents and spaghetti straps. The multicolored wrap bracelet Kayla had given her was her only accessory.

  Chanelle prepared a large beach bag with the essentials and then checked the time. Room service should be arriving shortly. Another smart decision she had made yesterday. She would have her coffee and toast and then make her way down to the tender station on Deck Two. She would at least enjoy the beach today, Chanelle promised herself. And there would be nothing or nobody to prevent that from happening.

  Least of all Vance Kingston.

  * * *

  Chanelle took the elevator down to Deck Two. She had received a call from Guest Services while she was having her coffee, advising her that her time to board the tender had changed. For unspecified reasons, she would be leaving half an hour later than she had planned.

  When she arrived, there was a group just about to get onboard. She rushed to join them and presented her identification card to one of the security officials. A whistle sounded, and a few moments later, the group proceeded to board. There was a substantial breeze, so Chanelle opted for the covered lower deck. She made her way carefully down the steps, glad to see there were plenty of good seats.

  She made her way toward the back, and a sudden shuffling made her look to her right. Her heart felt like it was about to rocket out of her chest...

  Chanelle swayed sharply as the tender started moving, and she plopped down hard on the seat closest to her, just arm’s length away from where Vance Kingston was standing. And at the far end of the tender, his family was smiling and waving at her.

  * * *

  Vance wished Chanelle would have heard him out last night. He had stared at the door of her stateroom for a few minutes after his last appeal, hoping that Chanelle would change her mind. He had gotten the message loud and clear when he saw from the space at the bottom of the door that she had turned off the light. Giving up, he had headed back to his own stateroom.

  He had felt like a total jerk to have hurt Chanelle, even if it had been unintentional. And none of it would have happened if he had just continued kissing her instead of leaving her at such a vulnerable moment.

  But where would they be now if he had let himself give in to the passion that had been steadily building inside him?

  He had to make amends to Chanelle.

  For several hours, Vance had racked his brain as to how he should handle this highly sensitive situation with an even more highly sensitive person. Staring up at the ceiling above his bed, Vance had come up with a few ideas and then scrapped them. And then he remembered that she was heading to Rum Point Beach. And he and his family would be taking one of the tenders to Coral Haven. The passengers would all be getting off at Grand Cayman, and Vance’s tender would continue on.

  The only thing he had to do was to ensure Chanelle boarded the same tender he would already be on. That could be arranged with a quick call. And then Vance would attempt to make another appeal for Chanelle to hear him out. And if he couldn’t convince her, she’d still have the option of getting off at Grand Cayman. If Chanelle continued to Coral Haven, it would have to be entirely of her own free will.

  Vance met Chanelle’s incredulous stare with a polite nod. He had known that it would be as awkward as hell trying to discuss the matter between them with people all around, but he had no other option. He would give it his best shot, and if Chanelle could be convinced to remain onboard instead of going with her original plan, they would be heading to a place that Vance considered heaven on earth. While Mariah, Adrien and his mother relaxed in one section of the rambling villa his father had had built five years ago, Vance would have a better opportunity to set things right with Chanelle.

  And if the stars and planets were all aligned in his favor, he and Chanelle would spend an idyllic day together before the tender arrived to take them back to the Aquarius.

  Vance closed the distance between them by sitting opposite her. He leaned forward. “Chanelle, I can’t say a lot now, but I promise you’ll understand if you let me explain.”

  Chanelle’s cheeks were like smoldering coals, but her eyes flashed ice. “Oh, I understand,” she said stiffly, keeping her voice low.

  She turned her gaze away from him to look out at the scenery. He felt bad that her first excursion off the ship had to be tainted by bad feelings. If only she would gaze into his eyes and see the genuine tenderness he felt for her. But of course she couldn’t, with the thorn-covered glasses she was wearing...

  Vance gazed at Chanelle’s profile and felt his heart expanding. It wasn’t just tenderness he felt for her, for God’s sake, it was more than that. It was a truly happy feeling that had eluded him in the past, even when he had thought he was enjoying himself with other women. It was the feeling that he had found a rare treasure when those green-hazel eyes had sparkled under the patio lights on Deck Five.

  It was the way his heart had vaulted when she returned his kiss...

  Maybe he wasn’t quite ready to put a name to it just yet, but if it was what he thought it was, he’d find the right way to let Chanelle know...

  Before time ran out on him.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  COULD ANY MAN be trusted? Chanelle tried to focus on the enchanting views of palm trees and charming villas as the tender sped past, but Vance’s proximity made it impossible. The lump of bitterness and disillusionment that had settled in her throat and stomach after last night’s discovery hadn’t lessened any, and now, facing Vance but unable to express herself with so many people around them, Chanelle felt frustrated. And angry.

  Chanelle swayed forward as the tender hit a choppy patch of water, and she caught her breath as Vance’s arms shot out to steady her. His face was inches away from hers, and now she could see the faded blue of his eyes and the shadows beneath. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

  He hadn’t slept much, either, she thought. Could it have been the result of a guilty conscience? Good.

  As Chanelle stared at him defiantly, something in Vance’s expression made her falter.

  There was something there that was different than the way he had looked at her in the past. A look of...of sadness that seemed to reach across and connect with something in her own eyes.

  And then he smiled at her as he released his hold, but the sadness remained in his eyes.

  Chanelle felt a vague urge to let him explain. Her heart started drumming.

  Should she relent and at least hear him out?

  A chorus of excited voices distracted her. A group of passengers around her rushed off to get a better view of something in the waters.

  “A pod of porpoises,” Vance said. “Always a delight for tourists.”

  Chanelle started to rise, but she hesitated as Vance touched her arm. “Can we talk? At least while this diversion lasts?”

  Chanelle looked down at his hand at the same time that he withdrew it. His touch, although gentle, had sent a sizzle along her nerve endings. She felt a flush creep up her neck. Taking a deep breath, she sat back down.

  He was leaning forward, his brow creased above blue eyes that startled her with their clarity. “Chanelle, I know you’re planning to go to Rum Point Beach. But I don’t think you’ll be able to enjoy it fully with this misunderstanding between us. If you give me a chance, I will clear everything up.”

  Chanelle raised her eyebrows. How much could he clear up with her before the passengers returned to their seats? “This—this is awkward,” she admitted. “I should never have—”

  “No, Chanelle. I take full responsibility. I want to explain—better than I did last night—why I needed to leave. And that the person you saw at my door is not who you think she is.”

  They both turned at another wave of excited shouts from
the passengers.

  “Look, Chanelle.” His voice had a sudden note of urgency. “In a minute—or less—they’ll be back and we won’t be able to talk. I need more time. I’m asking you to trust me and to stay on the tender. Come to Coral Haven with me instead of going to Rum Point Beach. There will be time and space to make things right.” His eyes bored into her like blue spears. “I want to make things right with you, Chanelle.”

  The passengers started clapping. “That’s the end of the porpoise show,” Vance said. “And we’re almost at Grand Cayman...”

  Chanelle had no time to respond as the passengers made their way noisily back to their seats. Her eyes met Vance’s as a couple of teenagers zipped past them. No, there was no time—or space—to hear him out.

  Do you want to?

  She bit her lip, the thrumming in her chest increasing as the tender neared the shore. Moments later, the passengers started to file up the stairway and out, and Chanelle knew she had less than a minute to make a decision. She glanced at Vance’s mother and sister, who were absorbed in something Adrien was saying.

  Chanelle glanced quickly at the family now exiting the tender. She stood up, her knees feeling wobbly. If she was going to leave, she’d have to go. Now.

  Her gaze flew to Vance. He hadn’t moved, but his eyes were fixed on hers like lasers. Her brain willed her body to start walking, but her feet were rooted to the floor of the tender.

  Chanelle opened her mouth to say something, but the whistle of the tender operator startled her. She bit her lip and, feeling a tremor of anticipation course through her, she promptly sat down.

  * * *

  Vance’s heart had jolted when Chanelle had stood up, but when, timeless seconds later, she sat down, his heart had started pumping so hard that he almost put his hand over it to try to calm it down.