Caribbean Escape with the Tycoon Read online

  Chanelle looked beyond him again, the butterflies in her stomach rising in a swirl. What would his wife think if she suddenly showed up? She took a step back. “I appreciate your concern, but you don’t need to worry about me.” Actually, she didn’t appreciate his concern, but the words had left her mouth before she could stop them.

  “The expression on your face worried me.” He rested an arm on the railing and glanced at the water before meeting her gaze again. “It was more than sad—it was almost a look of desperation.”

  Chanelle’s eyes widened as his words hit her. Hard. “You thought I was going to...” She glanced at the black depths of the bay. She had been momentarily sad, yes, but desperate, no. No.

  “I would have stopped you,” he said huskily. “Or dived in after you, new suit and all.”

  “You wouldn’t have had to.” She held up her chin defiantly, trying to prevent herself from gazing at him from the neck down.

  His piercing blue eyes had a hawklike intensity, as if he were trying to determine if she was lying. “Good to know.” His brow smoothed out. And then his eyes narrowed again. “I don’t mean to pry, but if there is a problem between you and your...” He glanced at her ring finger.

  It suddenly hit her. He had noticed her engagement ring during their first encounter...

  His words struck a nerve. Chanelle bristled. Was this...this Romeo...actually implying that she was having issues with her fiancé? What business did he have to butt into her life? She felt an inner heat surge through her veins and upward into her cheeks.

  “Look, I hate to be blunt, but I don’t appreciate you trying to find out if there is a problem in my relationship. It’s really none of your business.” She felt her cheeks tingle. Usually the precursor to their becoming flaming red. “And if you don’t mean to pry, then don’t.”

  “Touché. I apologize, Miss...or Ms....”

  She threw him an incredulous glance. Did he not realize that she didn’t want to keep talking to him? He just raised his eyebrows and looked as unruffled as she was ruffled. It didn’t help that a portion of her brain was registering how good-looking he was in his charcoal-gray suit and salmon-colored shirt and black tie. She heard herself sigh in frustration.

  “Chanelle.” There! Now maybe he’d go away and leave her alone.

  He opened his mouth to respond but closed it when his cell phone buzzed. He retrieved it from his pocket to glance at it. He messaged back and then looked at Chanelle again. She moved away from the railing, and he did the same. Surely he didn’t intend to follow her? She was planning to head over to the Ristorante Mezza Luna for dinner, having made reservations at this specialty restaurant when she had booked her cruise, deciding that she deserved to pamper herself.

  And after this double encounter with this playboy, Chanelle was anxious to start relaxing. She nodded dismissively and walked toward the glass doors, deciding to freshen up in her stateroom before heading to the restaurant. She saw his reflection and felt her stomach muscles tighten. Inside, the lights of the chandeliers made her blink.

  She headed to the elevator, and when she turned, her heart jolted. Vance was striding toward her, but his phone buzzed again and he slowed down to glance at it. Chanelle hurried into the elevator, but before the door closed, she saw him glance up and across at her, his eyes glittering like the chandelier crystals above his head.

  * * *

  Mariah had texted Vance the first time to say that she was almost ready. He had laughed inwardly. His sister’s sense of time was faulty at best. “Almost ready” could mean “I need another half hour.” But she had surprised him with her second text that she was in the restaurant and had already ordered them drinks.

  Vance had messaged her that he needed a few extra minutes.

  He glanced at the closed elevator doors before striding over to a recliner near a lounging nook and thought about what had just happened with Chanelle.

  Chanelle... What a soft, feminine name. A name fit for an angel, except that there had been nothing angelic about the look she had flung at him.

  Why had she appeared so dejected when he had first spotted her? His heart had begun to thump against his rib cage when he had seen her gripping the railing in that isolated corner of the deck... And at the sight of the tears glistening on her cheeks, the thump had turned into a hammer. He had been ready to leap toward her, and then she had turned to look at him...

  Relief had swirled through him like an electric current. He had wanted to wrap his arms around her—an irrational impulse, considering he didn’t know her, but he couldn’t deny that he had felt a surge of protectiveness that had stunned him.

  He had immediately noticed that she wasn’t wearing her ring, which was why he had presumed that she and her fiancé had had some kind of disagreement, or maybe even a fight. No wonder she was sad, especially if she was having problems in her relationship. Had she ended the engagement? Had he? Vance’s jaw tensed at the thought that Chanelle’s ex-fiancé might have cheated on her. Maybe that was why she seemed so irritated with him. Maybe she was projecting her anger and hurt on him or any other male who crossed her path or even looked at her the wrong way...

  But why was this Chanelle taking up so much space in his thoughts? He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then relaxed them. Tensed his shoulders, then let go. He did this a few times, and after a few deep breaths, he opened his eyes.

  Vance checked the time and sprang to his feet. He had kept Mariah waiting far too long. At the entrance of the Ristorante Mezza Luna, the maître d’ greeted him and led him to a far table, where Mariah was already enjoying a glass of white wine and a plate of cheeses and spiced olives. “Sorry I’m late, sis,” he said with a rueful smile. He sat down, and after the waiter had filled his glass, he explained what had happened earlier with Chanelle, reassuring Mariah that Adrien had never been in danger. “How is the little munchkin?”

  “Adrien’s having room service with Mom, then they’re going to watch a movie and go to bed early,” Mariah said.

  Vance nodded and took a drink of his wine.

  “Don’t look now, Vance!” Mariah lowered her voice to a whisper. “There’s the lady who couldn’t mind her own business.”

  Vance set down his wineglass and tried to ignore the skip of his heart beat. “Mariah, I told you, she was just worried—”

  “Okay, okay. I can’t fault her for that, Sir Vancelot.” She chuckled as he rolled his eyes at her childhood nickname for him.

  Vance turned casually. Chanelle hadn’t spotted him. She was smiling brightly at the maître d’ and nodding. She had changed from casual wear to a long magenta skirt with a shimmer of sequins along its flaring hem and a body-hugging black top that accentuated her slender neck and feminine curves. The maître d’ led her directly toward the table next to his and Mariah’s.

  Mariah’s phone rang, and Vance could hear that it was his mother’s voice on the other end.

  Chanelle suddenly stopped walking. Vance met her incredulous gaze. He held up his glass and nodded with a polite smile. It was obvious from the rosy hue of her cheeks that she was flustered to be seated so close to him. And Mariah.

  Chanelle gave a brief nod and looked away, focusing on what the maître d’ was telling her about the wine selections. She murmured her choice, and he nodded. “Certainly, Miss Robinson.”

  Vance didn’t know if it was the wine or the discovery of Chanelle’s last name that ignited a shiver of heat inside him. He said it under his breath. Chanelle Robinson. He liked the way it sounded. Soft. Silky. Just like that mane of hair tumbling over her shoulders.

  The next time his glance coincided with Chanelle’s, he flashed a smile and nodded. Her eyes fluttered briefly, and she responded with a nod that made him think of a robin giving a tentative peck at the grass. Her cheeks were now almost as red as a robin’s breast, and the way her arms lifted and then dropped helplessly made i
t clear to him that if she could fly away, she would.

  “Mom says Adrien feels a little warm. Probably too much excitement today,” she murmured, arching her eyebrows in Chanelle’s direction. “I’m going to check on him. If he’s okay, I’ll meet you in the theater.”

  Vance stood up and met Chanelle’s eyes. Even in the dimmed lighting of the restaurant, they were stunning, their green-hazel depths looking like a mystical pool from an enchanted land.

  “I hope you’re enjoying Mezza Luna’s fine offerings, Miss—Chanelle,” he said as they approached her table. He gave her a casual smile. “Oh, and please allow me to introduce you. Chanelle Robinson, this is Mariah Kingston...my sister.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHANELLE STRUGGLED TO keep her surprise in check. His sister? And how did he know her last name? Oh, yes, the maître d’ had said it...

  Feeling awkward at the realization that she was just blinking back at him, Chanelle turned and offered a tentative smile to his sister.

  Mariah held out her elegantly manicured hand. “Nice to meet you. Again.” She blew her brother a kiss. “I’m going to go and check on Mom and Adrien and then head to the Milky Way Theater. See you in a bit, Sir Vancelot.”

  Chanelle watched her leave, a petite swirl of pink silk and ivory linen above shapely legs and stiletto heels that Chanelle wouldn’t hazard to wear. When she had walked into the restaurant and had caught sight of Mariah sitting across from Vance, something in Chanelle’s chest had deflated, and she had considered making an excuse to the maître d’ and filing out of the restaurant. The last thing Chanelle had counted on was bumping into the both of them so soon after the earlier incident...

  Discovering that the lady he was with was his sister and not his wife had caused a thumping against her rib cage that almost made her look down at her chest self-consciously.

  Vance put his hand on the chair opposite her. “May I?” he said, his blue eyes appearing more like indigo in the muted light of the restaurant.

  “Um...” She glanced from him to the waiter. “Okay,” she replied slowly, irritated both by his question and by the way her pulse had spiked.

  How could she tell him, with the waiter standing right there, that she had been looking forward to a quiet dinner?

  Despite feeling flustered, Chanelle couldn’t help thinking how drop-dead gorgeous he looked in his gray suit with the salmon-colored shirt making a striking contrast with the extraordinary purple-blue of his eyes. They reminded her of the rich hue of the delphiniums in her summer garden.

  “Will you be joining Miss Robinson for a glass of white wine, sir?” the waiter asked Vance, naming the vintage she had selected.

  Vance nodded his approval. “I could tell you were a woman of good taste,” he said, flashing Chanelle a smile. “May I join you?”

  Chanelle hesitated before giving a curt nod.

  Vance turned his gaze back to the waiter. “Put it on my tab, Luciano.”

  Chanelle gazed from one to the other and opened her mouth to protest, but Vance put up his hand firmly. “That wasn’t necessary, Mr....Vance,” she said when the waiter had left.

  “No it wasn’t, Miss Chanelle.” He leaned forward. “It’s just my way of thanking you for looking out for Adrien.”

  Chanelle frowned. “You weren’t too pleased about me getting involved earlier.”

  He clasped his hands under his chin and gazed at her squarely. “I admit I may have overreacted.” His eyes glinted. “I’m sorry. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

  Chanelle was at a loss for words. From the slightly amused tone of his voice, she didn’t know whether he was being genuine or mocking her. And at the same time, she was trying to process the fact that he wasn’t married after all, that Adrien was his nephew, and that his earlier offer of buying her a drink wasn’t the act of an unfaithful womanizer.

  Which meant that she had overreacted as well.

  So maybe you should apologize, too, her inner voice suggested. And if this hunk wants to treat you, let him! You have a choice—you can tell him to take a flying leap, or let him spend his money on you... Live a little! And if he flirts with you, give it back to him. You’ve forgotten how to have fun, girl!

  As she framed some words of apology in her mind, the waiter reappeared with the wine. Vance tasted and approved a sample and nodded for the waiter to fill their two glasses. He held his glass up and waited for Chanelle to clink hers with his, but she ignored his cue and went ahead and took a sip.

  “Mmm...” Chanelle closed her eyes momentarily, unable to control a little shiver. She was entering into unknown waters, she warned herself. She felt her nerve endings tingle and realized she could either take this opportunity to enjoy the cruise, or leave it...

  The excitement stirring in her stomach gave her the answer. She wasn’t going to mope around anymore. She was going to loosen up a little. She had always been too serious growing up and had proceeded with caution in every aspect of her life, even when she had left home. Chanelle breathed in deeply, her chest expanding, and she felt like a Sagittarian warrior, ready to rise up to anything or anyone. Especially one like the Dionysus sitting across from her, twirling his wineglass with a gleam in his bewitching blue eyes.

  * * *

  Vance looked at Chanelle as the waiter asked her if she had decided on her entrée. She chose a seafood risotto, and Vance decided to order the same for himself. “Excellent choice, Chanelle. It’s one of my favorites,” he said after the waiter had left. Chanelle paused, her eyes widening as if she had just realized that he was not going to be leaving after he finished his wine. And the slight flutter of those long lashes made him wonder how she was feeling about that...

  “This is even better than the wine I had in my room.” Chanelle’s words came out in a rush. “And I thought that one was superb. I must say I’m impressed with the perks on this cruise. The complimentary gift basket was such a lovely surprise, with the scrumptious chocolates and all those other goodies.” She flashed him a smile before taking another generous sip of wine, her eyes a combination of amber and emerald as they blinked at him above the rim of her glass.

  Vance certainly hadn’t expected this...this about-face. But then maybe Chanelle was trying to drown her sorrows, the sorrows of a broken relationship...

  “Cheers, Sir Vancelot,” she said with a tinkling laugh as she raised her glass and cocked her head at him, her hair cascading down like a shimmering curtain. His heart did a flip, and he had to stop himself from extending his hand to let her rest her head against it.

  Vance gazed at Chanelle’s flushed cheeks and long eyelashes. He had no illusions that they were fluttering for his benefit, yet he couldn’t help being mesmerized by their languorous movements, allowing him glimpses of the heady hazel depths of her eyes.

  He coughed, and feigned a frown. “Now don’t you go calling me by that silly name, Chanelle. My sister likes to torment me occasionally with it, with maybe just a little less frequency than when we were kids and playing with my medieval castle.” His eyes narrowed. “I’m neither a sir nor a chivalrous knight.”

  Chanelle gave him a shy smile that made his stomach muscles contract. “You were ready to rescue me earlier... That proves you’re chivalrous.” She averted her gaze to help herself to an olive and immediately exclaimed at its spiciness. She ran her tongue over her lips and fanned them with her hand.

  As Vance watched her mouth, a spiral of heat flicked throughout his body. The waiter set down their plates, and after thanking him, Chanelle gave a self-conscious shrug and dug into her risotto. Vance suppressed a smile. It was refreshing to see a woman enjoy food, unlike a couple of the willowy high-fashion models he had dated who had pretended to be happy with a few pieces of lettuce and a couple of carrot sticks.

  “Are you a pescatarian?” he wondered aloud.

  “No. I just stay away from red meat.”

/>   “So no bacon for you.”

  “I’m into baking, not bacon.” She laughed, lifting her wineglass to her lips.

  He grinned. “Since you’ve ventured into the world of puns, perhaps you should consider a job in comedy...”

  The humor suddenly disappeared from Chanelle’s face. Her eyelids fluttered briefly, and she stared down at her plate. He saw her jaw muscles flexing. When she looked back up, her eyes were glistening.

  Vance set down his glass. “I’m sorry, Chanelle. Did I say something wrong?”

  She put her fork down. “No, I’m... I’m...” She shook her head. “I’m just a little down about my job.” She cocked her head at him as if she were trying to ascertain whether she could trust him to tell him more.

  “It’s a tough job,” he said gently. “Dealing with vulnerable children and harsh situations day in and day out. I can only imagine—”

  “I thought I would last longer than this...”

  “You left?”

  “I’m on a leave. Burnout.” She sighed. “I love kids, I love seeing bad situations turn out for the better, but it hasn’t always worked out that way...and it has affected me off the job as well.”

  “You’re only human.” He controlled his impulse to reach out and tap her reassuringly on her arm. “It’s obvious you care, and with your background, it’s no wonder you were alarmed when you saw Adrien on that chair. Your devotion to children is admirable,” he added softly.

  “I’m too devoted, according to my fiancé.” She bit her lower lip and leaned back. “I mean my ex-fiancé. He broke off our engagement.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he murmured. “You’ve been through a lot.”

  “I have to take some of the responsibility,” she said, her mouth twisting. “I spent too much time working.”