“Hey, I’ve got to go. Can I call you when I land?”
“Of course. But, you got the invitation, right?”
“No,” I say, not bothering to explain how I’d thought the invitation to Eden was from him and Connor.
“We sent out a couple because we’re never sure where to reach you. Anyway, we’ve changed the date...”
The group of doctors and paramedics are right outside the door to the plane and I can hardly hear Wade through the noise from the harried activity.
“Can you make it?”
“Yes,” I say, not sure exactly what I’m agreeing to or when, but with the knowledge I’ll make it happen. “Of course I’ll be there. Call you when I land, okay?”
There’s a crackling on the phone, then Wade’s distant goodbye. I drop the phone in my bag and watch the action. Seats are lowered to make room for the gurney. With combined effort the patient is hoisted aboard and tension straps are used to secure the gurney to the floor of the plane.
Three paramedics climb aboard and after handing out headsets, Joely the pilot, fires up the plane and we’re set to take off. The paramedics sit and buckle up and before we know it, the plane is skimming across the surface of the water and then soaring up into the air.
I can hear the paramedics discuss the patient through the earphones on the headsets.
“Oxygen flow adjusted.”
“How’s the blood pressure.”
“Low.”
“Pulse is slow. Steady.”
“No signs of cerebral swelling.”
“Pupils responding.”
“That’s a good sign. Indication of consciousness?”
“Give me a headset. I’ll try talking to him.” A headset is passed from the front of the plane and then I hear, “Mr. Chevalier? Can you hear me? You’ve had an accident. Mr. Chevalier?”
Oh my God, Christophe?
I unbuckle my belt and squeeze between the gurney and the paramedics so that I can stand at his side. The man is barely recognizable beneath the oxygen mask. His startling blue eyes are closed, his expression slack, his hair extra dark against his pale skin.
“Do you know him?”
“Yes.” I touch his flesh, expecting it to be cold. It’s not. It’s warm. He’s alive. Thank God.
I turn to the paramedics, “What happened? Is he going to be okay?”
“He was trapped in an underwater wreck. They found him without oxygen.”
“Shit.”
The woman nearest me nods solemnly. “It’s a miracle he’s alive. The fact he’s starting to respond to stimuli is a good sign.”
“Good,” I say even though I hear the, but...in her voice. How long can a person survive without oxygen to the brain? I don’t want to know the answer.
Fumbling beneath the thin sheet tucked around him, I find Christophe’s hand. It’s limp—so incongruous to the Christophe I know—and I rub it between mine. “Hey,” I say, squeezing. “Christophe? Can you hear me?”
I wait even though I don’t expect his eyes to open.
He’s not going to make it, a quiet voice whispers between my ears. He was supposed to die.
“He is not going to die,” I reply firmly.
Squeezing harder, I lean down, as if to whisper in Christophe’s ear. We’re both wearing headsets and anything I say is going to be heard by everyone in the plane but I don’t care. “Come on, you arrogant, jerk. You need to wake up so you can teach me some of that Tantra shit you’re always going on about.”
There’s no response and I shut my eyes, saying a silent prayer to someone or something, I don’t even know who or what. But after my experience on Eden, I’m curiously more open to that idea of someone or something.
When I open my eyes, I say, “Listen to me. Get better and I promise I’ll give whatever it is you’re selling a try. Okay? Can you hear me?”
One of the paramedics taps on my shoulder. “Miss, we need to monitor his vitals. Please return to your seat.”
“No.” I shake my head. I’m not budging. I don’t know why, but there’s something that tells me this is my fault. Well, maybe not my fault, but I feel like I could have done something about this, like if I’d done something differently none of this would have happened. I glance up into the paramedic’s stern face. “I’m not leaving.”
“Do you know who this is? He’s an important man. His life is in our hands.”
The other paramedic shakes her head at the one looming over me but that doesn’t seem to help. We glare at one another, neither giving in.
Until...I feel something against my hand.
“He squeezed my hand.” I twist back to Christophe. “Christophe?” I squeeze back. “Hey, can you hear me?”
It wasn’t my imagination. The squeeze is there again. I turn to the paramedics, a big grin on my face. “Twice. He squeezed twice.”
This time I let them push me away. I let them tend to Christophe, doing all the paramedic-y things they do every day, saving lives for a living. There’s a flurry around him again, but it’s much less frantic and a sense of relief pervades the whole cabin.
About ten minutes later, the third paramedic looks my way, beckoning me over. I move awkwardly back to Christophe’s side and am filled with the most amazing sense of relief when I see his gorgeous eyes are open. Not just open, they are aware. One of the paramedics removes the oxygen mask and adjusts the mic on the headset so he can speak.
“Tessa Savage,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically soft and hoarse. “I was wondering if I’d ever see you again.”
“I am right here,” I say, somewhere between laughing and crying.
“So you are.” He smiles in return. “Now, about that promise...”
Oh my God. He heard me! I’m so relieved and ecstatic that he’s alive and talking and being his typical Christophe self, I react by throwing my head back and laughing. It feels so good. Amazing.
I wipe the happy tears from my cheeks and look down at him. “I wasn’t kidding,” I say, meaning it.
It’s the truth. Something happened to me on the island. I can’t really put my finger on it, but the island healed me. It took all the tender wounds of my past and it made me see them in a new light. It made me see myself in a new light. For the last ten years, I’ve really enjoyed my life, but...there’s always been a part of me that’s wondered if I’m making a huge mistake. If I’m a fraud. If I’m running away from permanency because it terrifies me.
Now I know the truth. This is who I am. This person, sitting right here in this ridiculously small plane, holding the hand of a billionaire playboy who just came back from the land of the dead, this is Tessa Savage. I am made to love deeply and love often and I am who I am because of all of the experiences I’ve had, from growing up without a family, moving from foster home to foster home, to seducing my foster brother and falling in love with him.
Chase Walker helped me realize who I am, the person I could be. He’s the first man I ever truly loved...the first love that I left of my own choosing, not because the state forced me to go and not because I stopped loving him. I left him because I loved him so deeply I realized it was something I wanted to experience over and over again. Is it to make up for the life of missing out on love? Who the fuck knows. It doesn’t matter.
It is my duty and my right to go out and love some more. My life is a gift and by denying my true nature, I am squandering that gift. Life is meant to be lived, and love is meant to be given freely.
As much as the island drove me batshit crazy, it has taught me some valuable lessons. I’ve always tried to be accepting of others, but perhaps the last person I truly accepted was myself. I think Chase helped me realize that and see myself more clearly and I can tell you, there is nothing more liberating than accepting and loving yourself for who you are.
No apologies.
So, here I am, Tessa Savage, ready for a new adventure, ready to go and love some more. I squeeze Christophe’s hand and kiss him gently on the forehead. A promise
of things to come.
God, I love my life.
~The End~
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Chapter Thirteen – Tessa
I come out of sleep gradually, vaguely aware of a soft caress against my cheek. I reach for the hand that is stroking my skin, only to find it’s not a person but the breeze from the open window. My eyes adjust to the light as I stare at the billowing drapes that open up onto the patio and the infinity pool beyond.
I am alone.
I am not here with Christophe and I am not here with Chase. I guess I’ve made my decision and to be honest, it feels right. Though Christophe is a fascinating man and I’d normally jump at the chance to spend more time with him, to learn the things he’s offering to teach me, something doesn’t feel right between us, like the timing isn’t right. It’s hard to explain.
As for Chase, I can’t face him, can’t deal with the expectations he has of me. Not now. Maybe not ever. Though seeing him felt right for a few wonderful moments, it also felt horribly wrong.
I stretch, my back cracking in the process. Wow. I haven’t felt so rested in a long time. I flip the rumpled duvet off my body and, finding my bags just inside the door, I pull out the beachiest thing I own, capris and a tank top, and take my clothes into the bathroom to shower and dress. The shower is exquisite, and I’m sure I spend at least thirty minutes inside, though it’s hard to tell because I lose all track of time as I stand under the rain showerhead.
After dressing I lean into the vanity to apply my makeup. I’m just finishing up my mascara when I hear a knock on the door. I go out to the foyer and am just about to open the door when I stop. A strange tickly sensation teases the inside of my tummy. Weird. I reach for the door knob but pause as if I’m going to try the door and it’ll be locked.
The sound of knocking comes again and my hesitation evaporates. I open the door and Andre, the concierge, is standing on the other side.
“Good morning, Ms. Savage. I wanted to let you know that your flight is scheduled for one pm. I can take you now if you want.”
“I’m leaving?”
“Yes. That is your wish, is it not?”
I rub my hand up and down my face. “I guess so.”
“You don’t sound sure.” He motions to the villa behind me. “You’re welcome to stay. The villa’s booked for a week.”
I glance over my shoulder. It is a lovely place but...much too big for just me. I shut my eyes and lean against the wall, considering the implication of my decision. Is this right? Is leaving both Chase and Christophe the right thing to do? I focus on my breath and realize how easily the air fills my lungs, how light I feel.
“Ms. Savage?”
I open my eyes. “Come back in fifteen minutes. I’ll be ready then.”
“Of course ”
I go back to the room. Packing my bags takes no time at all. I wheel them to the front door and then go to sit by the infinity pool. I kick off my sandals and slip my feet into the cool water. For some reason, I find myself thinking not of Chase or of Christophe, but of the reporter, Noelle, and her leading questions about my love life.
“So, would it be correct to say you’ve got a lover in every port?”
What was my reply? I hear the words as if they’re spoken beside me, not inside my head. “Believe me, there are times when choosing to be with no one is the best option.”
That is definitely the case in this scenario. Both Chase and Christophe want things from me that I’m not prepared to give. With Chase, I’m sure we’d be reliving our past, which is impossible because the past is something you can’t change. With Christophe there’s a connection. I can’t deny it, but I feel like it’s something that represents a future I’m not ready for. I might never be ready for.
No. The best option for me is to choose today and only to be with someone if I’m sure. Besides, I’m totally fine without a man. Men do not define me. And as soon as I let them try, I lose myself.
This was one of those situations. I felt on the verge of losing myself if I chose to stay with Christophe or Chase.
Lifting my face to the sun, I let the warm rays trickle across my skin and down into my soul. I’m warmed and rejuvenated by my decision, relieved. After enjoying the sun for a few more minutes, I get up and carry my sandals to the front garden where I sit on a bench in the shade, eating an apple I grabbed from the fruit bowl, waiting for Andre to take me to the plane.
The cart travels more quickly on the return trip to the dock and we ride in silence. During the ride, I take everything in, still wondering how this island accomplished all the strange things that happened, changing like a chameleon, making me feel trapped, showing me a temple one moment and a hut the next. The empty beaches, the strange feeling of always being watched... right now it looks so normal, like any other exclusive tropical resort. But the feeling here is anything but normal and I can’t seem to keep my eyes off the castle and the way the white stone shimmers in the heat like a mirage.
Is that what this all has been? A mirage?
I honestly don’t know.
I guess it doesn’t really matter.
The plane and the pilot are waiting at the end of the dock, as is a small charter boat. Andre drops me off and helps to load my bags into the hold of the plane.
“All the best to you, Ms. Savage,” he says.
“Thank you, Andre.” I unclasp the bracelet key and hand it back to him.
As he leaves, a party of people walk down the dock toward me carrying scuba gear. Right away I recognize one of the individuals moving this way. Christophe is wearing a wetsuit, only pulled up to the waist, the top hanging loose about his hips.
He says something to the others—two women and a man—all dressed similarly, who climb on board the boat while he comes over to me.
I shade my eyes with my hand as I look at him. “Hi Christophe.”
“Tessa.” I expect him to be cold, or rude but I swear his smile is genuine.
I clear my throat. “You’re going diving, I see?”
He nods. “And you’re leaving.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out this time.”
“Me too.”
We stand there for a few seconds, staring at one another, and I have this bizarre, unnamed feeling as my gaze moves past him to the dive boat tied up to the dock.
“Christophe?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t dive by yourself. Make sure you stay with someone.”
He regards me strangely. I think he’s going to ask me why, but he doesn’t. He nods and says, “Okay.”
It’s weird. Now that I’m here, now that I’m seeing him outside of the villa, I’m totally having second thoughts about leaving. That is until one of the woman, a dark-skinned beauty with curves in all the right places, calls, “Christophe? We’re ready to go.”
&
nbsp; “One moment.”
He turns back to me, reaches for me and then stops himself.
Is it weird that I wish he wouldn’t have stopped? “You’d better go.”
“You too.”
“Goodbye, then.”
He slowly shakes his head, a secretive smile on his face. “Non. Not goodbye. Until we meet again.”
***
So, after the two hour flight, I arrive in Miami and go to the departures board. My next job isn’t for another few weeks and I have nowhere to be, nowhere to go. This happens occasionally and I play a little game. It’s called ‘Take the next flight out’ game. I’ve had some wild and wonderful experiences playing the game, ending up in the most interesting locations and meeting some of the most remarkable people.
Seems like it’s a good idea to play the game today. The next scheduled flight that I have any chance of making is San Diego. I go up to the nearest ticketing agent and book it; there ‘are almost always seats available in first class. The next thing I know, we’re boarding and I’m on my way to San Diego. There’s a travel magazine in the pocket in front of me and I spend part of the flight reading it, planning how I’m going to spend the next couple of weeks.
After collecting my bags off the carousel, I take my phone out to book my stay and see there are a bunch of messages. It’s the first time my phone has worked since before going to Eden.
My stomach twinges when I see one from Chase. The old Tessa would have ignored it. She would have deleted it. But the new me doesn’t do those kinds of things. She faces things head on, including her ex-husband.
I call and he answers on the first ring as if he was waiting for my call.
“Hey Chase,” I say. I can hear the apologetic note to my voice. “How’s Eden?”
“Who’s Eden?”
“The island. The resort.”
“What are you talking about?”
What kind of game is he playing. “You know, the island. The invitation? Aren’t you there?”
There’s a long pause.
“Chase?”
“I didn’t go to the island. I mean, I got your invitation but...” I can hear his exhalation and I close my eyes, picturing him running his hand through his overlong hair.
[Invitation to Eden 24.0] How to Tempt a Tycoon Page 22
