PRINCE CHARMING: A Secret Baby Stepbrother Romance (41 page)

“I am calling from room one twenty-seven,” she said. “It was supposed to be a honeymoon, but that isn’t happening, so could you get someone up here ASAP to clean up the congratulations crap?” There was a pause before she shook her head and hung up. “Okay, get up, young lady. You need to wash up and get something in your stomach. You didn’t come all this way to die.”

At that moment, Amy entered the room and gasped. “What is going on in here?”

“We need to get her out of this room,” Willow said to Amy.

“Come on,” Amy said. “Let’s clean up, Claire.”

Claire stood and followed Amy into the bathroom like she was being led by a collar. Her skin was red from the salt that had been absorbed into it, and the water stung her as it hit her parched body. After her shower, she reluctantly put on a flirty dress with matching sandals Amy had selected for her.

“Better,” her mother said. “That’s the daughter I know!”

Breakfast and a fifteen minute drive later, they were at Rodney Bay, where Willow had booked a boat tour along the coast.

“You’ll enjoy this, girls,” she said. “I have a full day planned for us.”

They spent the entire day coasting spots close to the hotel. The boat ride was easy for Claire, and by the time she reached the end of the coast, where there was a farmer’s market, she was in better spirits. She laughed and talked as she was introduced to strange fruits and foods she’d never had before, and she delighted in the tastes of the papayas, mangos, and watermelons. They visited the gift shops that boasted local handicrafts, and she picked out two as keepsakes: a colorful coconut tree with a parrot carved onto the bark, and the other an abstract design of a man and woman kissing.

Willow had insisted they act like the locals and not take a cab around the island, so when they were done shopping, they hopped on a local bus. Claire was drained by the time they got back to the hotel that evening, but the long and enjoyable day was worth the exhaustion.

“I really need to eat now,” Claire declared as she stepped into the lobby.

“That makes two of us,” Amy agreed.

“Three,” Willow quickly added. “Do you want to freshen up first, or…”

“What is it?” Claire asked as she turned to look at what had caught her mother’s attention and frozen her speech. Bryan was in the lobby, looking so handsome and smiling at her mother.

“Excuse me, girls,” Willow said as she walked over to him.

“I think we are on our own for dinner,” Claire murmured as she watched her mother walk away. “Great. Mom gets a man who comes searching for her after one date. She must have given him one hell of a blow job.”

“Claire! Stop talking trash about your mom!”

“Well, why else would he be here? He probably wants something from her,” Claire said, annoyed at herself more than anything. She couldn’t keep a man for more than a second and her mom had a man chasing after her.

“Well, speak for yourself. I know what I want,” Amy said, looking around for someone.

“What are you looking for?” Claire asked.

“Chance,” she said. “If Bryan is here, maybe Chance is here, too.”

“Chance? What does he have to do with Bryan?” she asked.

Amy looked at her as if she were stupid. “Bryan is Chance’s father, or did that escape you?”

“Oh.” Claire’s heart suddenly beat faster as she thought about Chance, but she quickly turned her mind away from him. “I think I’ll go freshen up while you two catch up with your men.”

“Come on, Claire,” Amy said as her eyes roamed. “Come with me.”

“No chance,” Claire mumbled as she started walking away from Amy. “Have fun. I don’t want to distract you.”

“Hold on, Claire,” Amy ran after her and wrapped her hand around her wrist. “I’m sorry. It must seem selfish of me to consider myself when you just had a crappy night. I’ll find him later.”

“No,” Claire said and removed her hand. “Go out and have some fun; don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Amy asked. “I mean, I don’t want you to say that just because…”

“Amy, just go,” Claire urged. Her mother was across the room waving, and she waved at her too.

“Okay,” she grinned and kissed Claire on the cheeks. “I will check in on you later.”

Claire shook her head and headed for the elevator. They could have all the fun they wanted; she was content in her world now. The elevator bell dinged, and she walked ahead and ran straight into the hard chest of a man as he was exiting. “Sorry,” she mumbled as she fell back and strong arms reached out and caught her. She looked up once she regained her balance. Chance and his blue eyes were burning holes thorough her.

“Hello again,” he said with smile. “You could have told me you like aggression.”

Claire stepped back, the elevator all but forgotten now, and folded her arms across her chest. “Fancy seeing you here,” she said, eyebrow arched.

“Don’t get it twisted,” he said, winking at her. “My father had to make a stop.”

“Your father had to make a stop? That’s the best you can do?”

She felt Chance bore down on her until her heart pumped hard beneath the flimsy dress she wore. She felt his eyes find the rise on her chest, and he followed the trail downwards before he brought his eyes back to hers. “I don’t need an excuse, Claire; I always get what I want.”

Claire swallowed; her throat had gone dry. She tried to get around him. “I’m glad to hear that.”

He put his hand out to stop her. “What are you so afraid of?”

His hold on her made her throb in places she shouldn’t. She couldn’t be near Chance any longer. “I’m not afraid. I’m just not interested.”

But just as Chance was about to reply, they both heard Amy calling him. “I didn’t know you were here,” Amy said.

“I think she was looking for you,” Claire whispered as she slipped from his grasp and hopped into the elevator before it closed. As it did, she saw him looking after her, and once the metal doors closed, she breathed a sigh of relief.

Alone in the room, Claire was forced to order room service; the other two women had not emerged for dinner. The room had been swept and there was no reminder of the honeymoon that should have been happening. She was able to enjoy her braised tilapia in peace. Her balcony, which was just above the courtyard, overlooked the ocean, so she sat on the wicker chair with her wine in hand as she watched the other guests having fun. Her mind was at ease, and she felt relaxed.

Rather than Trent’s face, another face filled her mind, one with blue eyes and golden hair. She could hardly deny his irresistibility, and she remembered how easily he had imprisoned her with his stare. Chance was not someone to mess with, and she assumed women threw themselves at him constantly, something she never planned to do. But it would be almost impossible to control the impulses that raced through her when he was around. Chance was a force to be reckoned with, and she wasn’t sure her sails were sufficient to weather the storm brewing. Her mind was a whirlwind of confusion as she sipped her wine and stared into the dark rolling waves.

A pebble flew past her face, startling her and hitting the door behind her. She jumped, sloshing her wine. A second pebble hit her leg. “What the hell?” she whispered. Confusion wracked her as she looked down into the courtyard, trying to determine the source.

“Must we do this until the glass breaks?” he asked from below.

“Chance?” She recognized his voice.

“Who did you think it was?” he asked.

She rested the glass on the table and stood. She gripped the railing separating her from him by a few feet and looked over. “What?”

“I didn’t see you at dinner,” he said.

“I ordered in.”

“Are you really that much of an introvert, or do I repel you?” he asked.

Claire smiled. “A little bit of both.”

“Ouch!” he cried. “That hurt.”

“You’ll be fine,” she said. “What do you need?”

“Would you mind coming down?”

“I have to pass. I’ve had a long day. I’m not in the mood for company.”

Chance heaved an exasperated sigh. “Why would you come to all the way to the island to spend all your time inside? There’s plenty going on down here. Even my dad is having more fun than me.”

“Why aren’t you having fun?” she asked him.

“Because I’m here trying to get you to come down,” he said.

“I’m sorry, Chance. It’s just a bad time. Maybe tomorrow?”

“Fine.” With a wave, he walked away.

CHAPTER 8

Claire was a hard nut to crack. She was the first woman that had ever said no to him.

“Hello, handsome,” a woman said, interrupting his thoughts.

Chance looked at her, aware that she was obviously trying to flirt with him when she batted her eyelashes and looked at him.

“Hello,” he replied.

“So, are you free tonight?”

“Do you have anything in mind?” he asked her.

“There is a private jacuzzi in my room, and it is awfully big for little old me,” she flirted with him.

Usually Chance asked no questions in these types of situations; he would make her his for the night. And when the morning came, she would be a blubbering mess when she woke up and found him gone. Not only would he be gone, but she wouldn’t be able to get him alone again. Tonight, though, he had another woman on his mind, and the thrill of the hunt was more fascinating than the woman who offered herself whole to him right then.

He smiled and touched her face. “Maybe if we had met two days earlier.”

“Bummer,” she pouted and used her index finger to absent-mindedly pull the lace on her top to reveal firm breasts. “Are you sure?”

Chance could feel the heat rising, and he had to fight to control his urges. “I’m sure.”

As he walked away, he felt like an idiot for refusing someone he was certain he could have in pursuit of a woman who was not even interested in him. He brightened, however, when he thought of all the naughty things he would do to her when he had her to himself. He would not rest until she was completely his, but one thing was sure: to have her, he would have to change his rules of engagement.

***

Chance spent the night tossing and turning in his bed until the heat made it impossible to stay there. He had deliberately chosen the room across the courtyard from Claire, unknown to her, of course. He went out on the balcony and stared across, gritting his teeth at his temporary defeat.

He could see the pale light on the horizon telling him that morning was fast approaching, and he went back into the room and pulled on a pair of running shorts. In two swift motions he was dressed in a white tee as well as his sneakers. Maybe a morning jog would give him some perspective and a different angle to figure out Claire. That was his goal when he left the room, but an hour later he had achieved only sweat and no clarity.

Back in his room, he ripped the towel from the bar in anger and went back out to the balcony. The sun was peeping over the horizon, and he saw movement inside her room. He stepped back behind the curtains so she couldn’t see him, and he watched as she stepped outside with her towel in hand, rubbing her damp hair. Her face was serene, and she wore a smile and a robe; he grew hard just watching her. Chance inwardly cursed her for the effect she had on him; an effect she refused to acknowledge.

As if she was aware of his presence, she looked directly at him and her hands stopped moving. He stepped further into the shadows, but when he stuck his head out again, she was gone. He sighed. This was stupid. A grown man like him acting like a child. He had to get a grip on himself, he thought, as he decided to go down for breakfast.

He was just pouring himself a cup of coffee while he waited for his breakfast when he saw Claire and Amy coming down the stairs. The cup froze on its way to his lips as he watched them, and the pair of eyes he was least interested in found him.

“Chance,” Amy called with a wave.

But his eyes were on Claire, who gave him an odd look and a half-smile and walked to a table. Apparently, she didn’t care about him, and he hated being at a disadvantage. He waved at Amy, who was walking towards him.

“Hi, Amy,” he said, his eyes still glued on Claire.

“Would you like to join us?” she asked, pointing to their table.

Had it been just Amy, he would have refused. But he accepted any invitation that brought him closer to the woman who made him feel something he had never experienced before: rejection.

“Sure,” he said as he followed her to the table where Claire sat, but Claire didn’t seem at all pleased to see him.

“Forgive my intrusion,” he said as he pulled the chair out for Amy, then sat between her and Claire.

“Maybe you should eat at another table,” Claire said as she stuck her knife aggressively into the omelet.

“Claire!” Amy looked at her, appalled, and kicked her under the table. “You’re being rude.”

“Rude? I’m just enjoying my breakfast.”

“That’s not new,” he said to her, and Amy looked at the two of them.

“What?” Claire asked, her tone raised.