Thank God, or he would have had to initiate CPR...
Vance leaped to the minibar fridge for a bottle of water. She’d need it when she regained consciousness. He set it down on his night table before leaning forward to feel for her pulse again. Watching her filled him with a sudden feeling of tenderness that made the backs of his eyes sting.
And a feeling of terror.
She needed to come to. Calling for emergency services would take far too long.
“Come on, Chanelle, my love. Wake up. Please.” He brushed a kiss on her forehead.
She gave a soft moan, and her eyes fluttered. And opened.
Vance let out a deep breath. Thank God.
Chanelle tried to move.
“No, Chanelle. You have to stay still for at least fifteen to twenty minutes.”
“Why?” Her eyes widened. “Where am I?”
“Shh. You’re on my bed and you’ve just regained consciousness.”
“From what?” Her eyes widened. “We didn’t...”
“No, silly. From fainting. And you scared the hell out of me,” he said gruffly. “For the second time today.”
Her brow wrinkled. “Why?”
“Why are you asking so many questions?” He felt her forehead. “Just relax. You might be dehydrated. Here, have some water.”
He put the bottle to her lips while supporting the back of her head with his other hand. She lay back down, and her hazel-green eyes pierced his. “Why?”
“You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you? Okay, do you really want to know why, Chanelle? It’s because I... I—”
“Vance?” Mariah called from the hallway. “The tender is here.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHANELLE WATCHED THE island recede until she could no longer make out the coral walls of the villa. In reality she had only been there for hours, but it had seemed so much longer...and now she was leaving with this inexplicable feeling that she had lost something before she had had enough time to figure out what it was.
When Mariah had called out to Vance, his mouth had clamped shut, and whatever he had been about to say was left unsaid. He had left quickly, and a moment later, Mariah had entered his room to keep an eye on Chanelle. Chanelle had closed her eyes, not feeling up to chatting. After ten more minutes of lying still, she had risen slowly to find that Mariah had retrieved her dry clothes. “Come down when you’ve changed, Chanelle. The tender is waiting for us.”
As they all left the villa moments later, Vance tried to catch her eye, but Chanelle deliberately avoided his gaze. He offered a hand as she was about to step into the tender, but she ignored it with the pretense of helping Adrien. Vance frowned and looked sideways at her, but she continued moving on.
Now, heading back to the Aquarius, Chanelle focused on the shifting blues of the sea.
Better than focusing on the shifting blues of Vance’s eyes, she thought cynically.
It was choppier going back, a residual effect from the storm. By the time they boarded the ship, Chanelle’s stomach was feeling unsettled. She couldn’t wait to go back to the privacy of her stateroom. She’d order a soothing pot of herbal tea and maybe a bite to eat later, if she was up to it. As they waited in the lobby for the elevator, she said as much to Mariah, who quickly reminded her about the gala later in the evening and the champagne art auction. “Have your tea, Chanelle, and a rest, too, but please come to the gala. It’s the highlight of this cruise! We’ll save you a place at our table, okay?”
Chanelle felt a heat searing her nerve endings, knowing that all eyes were on her. Especially Vance’s. It was even worse once they filed into the elevator. His breath fanned her neck, and the spicy cedar notes of his cologne tickled her nostrils. When the bell sounded and a couple excused themselves to exit, there was more shifting, and Chanelle felt Vance’s hands encircling her waist to gently indicate that they needed to get by. Chanelle started and took a step sideways while her heart did a somersault.
She held her breath as the door closed, expecting Vance to move his hands away, but as the seconds ticked by in her mind, they stayed put. Chanelle felt sure everyone could see her flaming face, and she was just as sure that Vance could feel her erratic breathing reaching the span of his hands.
Another group needed to exit, and this time, Vance complied with Chanelle’s silent wish. Hers was the next stop, she thought, breathing out her anxiety. At the ding, she stepped out and turned to wave. “Thanks again.” She smiled, focusing her gaze on Mariah and Vance’s mother. “Have a good evening.” She turned away quickly, letting out a big sigh of relief as she heard the elevator doors close.
Chanelle repositioned her beach bag over her shoulder and started to walk toward her stateroom when she heard footsteps behind her.
“Chanelle...”
Chanelle turned slowly and stared into cobalt depths that made her feel that she had just entered the eye of a storm.
* * *
“You’re looking at me like I’m a boogeyman, Chanelle.” Vance ventured a crooked smile.
“I—I just wasn’t expecting you to follow me,” she said without smiling back.
Vance was puzzled. Was she upset at him about something? It was obvious that the dynamic between them had changed. Maybe her fainting spell had something to do with it.
“You looked like you wanted to be alone in the tender, so I didn’t want to bother you, Chanelle. I figured you had a headache.” He took a couple of steps closer to her. “How are you feeling now?”
Vance saw confusion flitting across her face.
“I’m fine,” she said curtly.
“Well, I’m glad I was there to catch you before you hit that marble floor,” he told her huskily.
“Yes,” she said, her voice softening slightly. “I don’t think I thanked you for that.” She nodded. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, Chanelle.” He paused as the elevator opened and let out a family. When they had filed down the corridor, he closed the gap between himself and Chanelle. “I’ll walk you to your stateroom.”
Vance was convinced there was something bothering her.
Why else would she be treating him so indifferently?
Her kiss before the storm hit had been anything but indifferent... It made his stomach flip just thinking about it.
What had changed? Certainly not his feelings. If anything, they had intensified when he saw her lying on his bed and thought of how devastated he would have been if he hadn’t been there and she had fallen to the floor and seriously hurt herself.
Vance realized with a jolt that Chanelle had stopped walking and was at her door, looking at him pointedly, her hand on the doorknob.
“Chanelle, I wanted to talk to you back at the villa before we left...” He looked at her earnestly. “There’s something I need to say to you.” He watched as her eyebrows furrowed. His gaze lowered to her lips and to that tiny turquoise vein pulsing at the base of her neck. Vance felt his jaw tensing. He wished he could just kiss her now and leave no doubt in her mind as to how much he wanted her...
“I’m sorry, Vance,” Chanelle said stiffly, turning the door handle. “I think it’s best if you go.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
OUR LIVES ARE galaxies apart and always will be.
Chanelle hadn’t had the nerve to tell him that to his face. But since she had woken up from her fainting spell, it was as if the fairy-tale fog she’d been in had lifted from her mind and now she could see the situation for what it was. She had thought about nothing else during the ride back to the Aquarius.
Chanelle closed the door firmly and plopped herself down hard on the couch, wincing as the muscles stretched in her knees.
Nice shape you’re in, girl. Your knees are scratched up and now your heart is broken.
It served her right. How ridiculous to have fallen for Vance Kingston in th
e short time she had been on the cruise. What had she expected? That the president of Zodiac Cruises would be captivated by her brooding disposition and declare his undying love and affection for her?
Yes, they had shared a passionate kiss, a kiss that had had her yearning for more. Vance had swept her off her feet—both figuratively, sending her into wispy clouds of fantasy, and literally, carrying her up a grand flight of stairs like in some old-fashioned movies she had enjoyed watching before life had gotten too busy with her work.
But she had to listen to the voice of reason in the back of her mind. The niggling voice that was telling her that this physical attraction between her and Vance wasn’t going to end up like a fairy tale. How could it? In a few short days, she’d be stepping off the ship and making her way back home. The idea that Vance Kingston was contemplating anything more than a casual flirtation with her was simply ridiculous. A fantasy.
And she had to make it clear to him that she wasn’t going to encourage any further contact with him. Because although she had every intention of staying rooted in reality, she knew that there was always a chance that being alone with him could weaken her resolve...just like the spicy cedar scent of his cologne weakened her knees and made her want to—
She was obviously more vulnerable than she had thought.
Chanelle let the tears well up, feeling sorry for herself and even more sorry that she couldn’t cry on anybody’s shoulder. When her tears were spent, she walked out to the balcony to watch the sky and the sea as twilight began to set in. Since she wasn’t hungry and had no intention of attending the gala, she would take this time to explore some options about her future.
Chanelle placed a hand over her bracelet. Becoming a social worker hadn’t been a bad choice. Working in child protection had just become too much for her. Maybe a highly sensitive person like herself would have a difficult time thriving in such a stressful, emotionally charged job for her entire career...and maybe the five years she had devoted to this area of social work was all she was meant to do. But what other job could she do?
Chanelle looked up at the sky, a palette of blue, pink and magenta. Something deep inside told her that she would discover the answer if she kept open to new possibilities.
Send it out to the universe!
How often had she read that advice in self-help books?
“Okay, I’m sending it out to you, universe!” she called out to the sky before going back inside.
She couldn’t let this thing with Vance destroy her peace of mind. She was stronger than that. She had to accept the fact that they had been physically attracted to each other and that was all. And if she wanted to be open to new possibilities, she needed to get herself out of her stateroom and allow herself to live a little.
Maybe she’d go to the gala after all.
What would there be to lose? She could handle it. She’d enjoy the musical entertainment and the complimentary champagne at the art auction, and then she’d sleep in tomorrow and enjoy one last sea day before they arrived back in Tampa the morning after.
And then she’d be ready to start a new chapter in her life.
Do you really think you can handle going to the gala? You’re taking a risk—
Chanelle squeezed her eyes shut, as if the action could put a stop to her HSP voice. It had worked for her in the past, allowing her to be cautious, be safe. Protecting her from frightening possibilities...
Her eyes flew open. What was there to be frightened of? Yes, she was taking a risk. But that wasn’t going to stop her. She was a Sagittarian, wasn’t she?
* * *
They had chosen to have the gala on the top deck. A section of the Constellation Club had been cleared for the ship musicians, and after the official announcements, they would be performing a medley of popular tunes from the last four decades.
Vance clapped along with the guests after his mother thanked them for joining the staff of the Aquarius in celebrating her retirement. Her tribute to Vance’s father had moved the audience.
After the applause subsided, she called Vance up to join her. She looked at him for a moment, her mouth quivering slightly. “I can only imagine how difficult it has been, son, for you to have accepted the challenge of taking over where your father left off...” She bit her lip, and Vance felt a lump form in his throat.
This was difficult for her, too. It had always been difficult for her, raising him and Mariah single-handedly most of the time. He hadn’t been the only one who had suffered...and now he could see that she had also suffered for him, lacking a proper relationship with his father.
“I’m so very proud of your commitment, dedication and hard work, Vance. You’ve proven yourself—as I knew you would—not only to your family, but to the entire company, and there is no doubt in my mind that your father would have been just as proud.” Her voice trembled at her last phrase, and Vance felt his eyes begin to mist along with hers.
“So, with all my love and pride, I congratulate you for your leadership, and I’m absolutely thrilled to officially name you president of Zodiac Cruises.”
Vance blinked a couple of times to keep his emotions in check as he and his mother embraced. When his vision cleared, he looked beyond the clapping hands to his sister’s table. Mariah was there with Adrien, but she was not looking in his direction. She was waving at someone. He followed her gaze and spotted Chanelle standing near a column.
She stepped forward, and what he saw took his breath away. She was wearing a floor-length deep purple satin gown with a filmy silver shawl over her shoulders. And she had arranged her hair in a side-swept style, held back with something that glittered under the string lights. His pulse hammered against his veins as he watched her walk over to sit next to Mariah. She waved to Adrien and said something to make him laugh.
Vance heard his name again, and he turned and saw that his mother was looking at him with raised eyebrows.
It was his turn to speak.
He hadn’t written out a speech; he knew exactly what he had to say. After thanking his mother for trusting him to carry on the business, he announced his new plan: a new cruise line that would cater to social service organizations, offering their employees a special discount for a Zodiac R&R Cruise. Not only would the employees get the rest and relaxation that they so greatly deserved, Zodiac would treat them with special perks and discounts in all areas of the ship. The first ship in the fleet would be in operation by the following year.
“Society doesn’t always recognize the tremendous work and sacrifices made by social workers, nurses and teachers, to name a few,” he said, scanning the crowd. “Zodiac Cruises wants to support those who support others.” He paused as the guests applauded enthusiastically and, glancing in Chanelle’s direction, saw that her attention was riveted on him.
Great—if he could figure out a way of speaking to her alone, he could tell her the rest of his plan...
Vance thanked everyone for choosing Zodiac Cruises and for sharing in the celebration. He guided his mother toward their table, relieved that the entertainers would now be in the spotlight before the art auction began.
He had some unfinished business with the beautiful lady in purple...
As they approached the table, he saw a man stooping to talk to Chanelle, and a moment later, he was leading her toward the other dancing couples.
Where had this guy come from?
Vance tried not to make it obvious that he was watching them as he helped himself from the hors d’oeuvres tray that one of the waiters was holding out to him.
Vance had no idea what he had just swallowed. His thoughts had returned to Chanelle’s abrupt manner after her fainting spell.
As he had changed into a white shirt and black suit, he had wondered why Chanelle’s behavior toward him had shifted from sizzling hot to disturbingly indifferent. Could she be deliberately repressing feelings for him that went deeper th
an the physical chemistry that they had both felt? She was probably holding back, believing that they would never see each other again after the cruise.
He would find out tonight, he had vowed, adjusting his tie. And if Chanelle decided not to attend the gala, he would find a way to see her and clear things up with her. Make her understand that he wanted her in his life after the cruise. And forever. With that resolution, Vance had made his way to his mother and Mariah’s stateroom, feeling much lighter than before.
It wasn’t going to be easy to approach Chanelle now, though, with a man having suddenly appeared out of nowhere to whisk her away to dance. They seemed to be chatting easily, and Vance felt a stab of jealousy. He should be the one holding Chanelle. He rose, intending to cut in for the next dance, but a few guests stopped to congratulate him and his mother, and he had no choice but to engage with them for a few minutes.
When they moved on, Vance strode toward a less crowded section of the deck, where the smooth operator had managed to lead Chanelle.
Luck was on his side this time, he thought smugly as the song came to an end. But the fellow did not let go of Chanelle.
And had his hand slipped down to her hip?
“May I have this next dance, Chanelle?” Vance gazed at her first, but before she could answer, he turned to stare pointedly at the guy, his mouth curved slightly but his eyes sending a clear “Back off” message.
The guy released his hold on Chanelle, smiled awkwardly and told Chanelle he’d see her in a bit.
Like hell you will, buddy.
Vance nodded with a congenial smile and took Chanelle’s hand.
His other hand settled around her waist. He felt her stiffen, and when his gaze met hers, her eyes seemed to be shooting sparks at him from their hazel-green depths.
And then she pressed closer and went on tiptoe to place her cheek against his. His pulse leaped as her lips brushed his cheek and earlobe.
Caribbean Escape with the Tycoon Page 15
