Rivals in Paradise (8 page)

“No, we're not, because we have put it behind us and formed a truce. But I'm just making note of the fact that there seems to be a pattern to your kisses, Chase. That's all.”

“Yes, and that pattern is, I really like kissing you and it really irritates me when you try and ignore or deny the attraction between us.” Chase's voice got very deep and seductive.

Whoa. Wasn't expecting that kind of declaration….

Speechless, Cicely just swallowed and glanced around the rum shack's parking lot.

Chase shook his head. “Let's just go and enjoy the rest of the evening. And tomorrow, I'll take you on a real tour of the island. We didn't cover a lot tonight.”

“Oh, you don't have to do that, Chase. I know you have family to connect with.”

“I insist. Now, come on, I want to spend the rest
of the evening dancing with you and having fun. Do you think you can handle that, rival of mine?”

She smirked. “I can handle it. The real question is, can you handle it? You're a few years older. You might not be able to hang.” She trotted off into the rum shack, looking back at him to catch his response.

“Oh, Cicely, you are a challenge, aren't you…” His voice trailed off, and she wasn't sure what to make of it.

Was it the competition for who could dance longer that caused that sultry expression to cross his face or some other challenge that had his jaw set and ready to win?

And did she stand a chance?

C
icely must have tossed and turned the entire night after that scalding kiss with Chase. Her nipples seemed to be perpetually swollen. Her body remained piqued and ready to tumble over into bliss with just one touch from him. After she finally tumbled into a restless sleep, she found that it wasn't long before the alarm clock was waking her up. She dragged herself out of bed and managed to make herself look somewhat presentable, camouflaging the majority of the telltale sleep-deprivation signs with a little foundation. Needless to say, she wasn't all that pleased when she opened her door to find a well-rested Chase Yearwood ready to take her on a tour.

Cicely couldn't believe he appeared to be so unaffected by everything. She vividly remembered their brush with desire and the restless night of sleep it caused her. She was almost afraid to spend more time alone with him.

Yet he stood in her doorway, confident, strong, sexy and willful. He almost seemed to dare her with his very presence!

The daring nature of his stance must have jump-started something in her. Her competitive streak refused to be stifled. She decided to take him up on his dare. How much harm could a little sightseeing trip do, anyway?

She smiled at him and batted her eyelashes. “Good morning, Chase.” She poured on demure like it was a new perfume.

“Morning, Cicely. Are you ready for your proper tour of Dahinda? I promise to do a better job of it this time. Today is all about you and showing you the best and brightest of Dahinda.”

“Great, let me grab my purse and we can get started.” Cicely walked over to the bed and made a show of bending to pick up her purse. She heard a slightly strangled sound coming from Chase's throat and thought maybe he wasn't as unaffected as he appeared to be.

The first stop on their tour of the island was the crystal caves known as Dahinda's Diamond Cove.
The subterranean caverns sparkled with what looked chandeliers of icicles dripping from the ceilings. The effect of the crystallized stone and the water underneath made walking through the underground cave an almost magical experience.

It was so captivating that Cicely found herself holding Chase's hand as they walked through.

“That was absolutely amazing,” Cicely exclaimed as they exited the cavern.

“If you thought that was amazing, wait until you see what's up next,” Chase said as they made their way to his sports car.

She happily took in the sights as they drove in his sporty rental. Growing up in Miami, she'd thought she was used to tropical beauty. But Dahinda was truly in a class all by itself. The palm trees, beautiful flowers and exotic-looking birds made her feel like she was in some kind of island fantasy. And, truth be told, the man driving her around and showing her the sights was playing a big part in that island fantasy. With the top down and the breeze blowing through her hair, she hardly had a care in the world until he pulled up in front of a sign that read “The Reptile Farm.”

He parked the car and got out, but she didn't move.

He must have lost his mind.

That was the only reason she could think of to
explain why he thought it was okay to bring her to a place with a bunch of snakes.

He walked over and opened her door. She remained in the car.

Chivalry be damned!

She was not going into a reptile farm.

“What's wrong? You don't want to see one of the main highlights of Dahinda? Tourists love to come here and hold the snakes, pet the iguanas. You don't want to come in? They even serve the best grilled rattlesnake you've ever tasted. You have to cook it until it's well-done or it's still poisonous, but it's really good. And it's so cool to be able to say you actually ate rattlesnake.”

She just stared at him.

Yep. He's crazy. He's lost his ever-loving mind. Poor thing.

He reached out his hand. “Come on, don't be scared. You'll like it. I promise I won't let any snakes get you.”

“Chase, I'm not going in there. No how. No way. Forget about it. It ain't gonna happen.” Cicely crossed her arms and smiled at him. “I hear there's a beautiful butterfly farm. We can certainly go and check that out.”

“The butterfly farm? Seriously? That's so…girly. I don't think I've ever been to the butterfly farm.”
Chase frowned. “You'll love the reptile farm. I'm telling you—”

“Seriously.” Cicely cut him off with a smile. “I know I
won't
love it. I'd be willing to put money on that fact. I don't like snakes. I don't even like to see them on TV or read about them in books. The only way you would get me in that place is to drag me in there, and I'd dig in my heels and claw the dirt with my bare hands to keep you from doing that. So…butterflies?”

Chase shook his head and called her all kinds of girlie-girl names as he got back in the car and they drove off.

When they pulled up to the butterfly farm he grumbled as he opened her door, “And you better not tell a soul that I set foot in this place. Butterflies! Give me a break.”

 

Chase had to admit the butterfly farm wasn't so bad. Sure, he would have preferred the reptiles. He used to love visiting the reptile farm the couple of times he had gone there as a kid.

The entire place was like a miniature tropical rain forest enclosed in mesh. There were so many trees and flowers and all kinds of exotic butterflies flying all over the place. And the joy on Cicely's face when she let one land on her finger was worth the chance that someone might have actually seen him there.

It was also very educational. They got to see the
various stages of a butterfly's life cycle, from egg to caterpillar to pupa to adult butterflies. It was rather amazing to see, even if it wasn't as cool as holding a snake in your hands.

Chase had to admit that doing the tourist thing and seeing his island home through Cicely's eyes made him value Dahinda even more. It really was a beautiful little island. In his mind, Dahinda always represented the very best that the Caribbean had to offer, and it was great to see someone else appreciating it.

After the butterflies, they decided to change into their swimwear and take in one of Dahinda's many beaches. He took her to one that not many tourists visited because he wanted to be able to enjoy her by himself for a while. As crazy as it seemed, he was genuinely starting to like Cicely Stevens.

Her aversion to reptiles aside, she was actually pretty cool.

Waiting for her to come out of the ladies' changing area, he contemplated what it meant that he was starting to let his guard down with her. It shouldn't have been that much of a risk.

He looked up and his mouth dropped open.

When she came out of the dressing room in her red bikini that gave new meaning to itsy-bitsy, he knew how much of a risk he was taking. He was in big trouble, and damn if he cared.

She was staring at his chest. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth was partially open. He reckoned he wasn't the only one in trouble. The only question was, what were they going to do about it?

He couldn't help it. He flexed just a little. He let his pecs move and silently thanked God that he spent time at the gym. When he saw her swallow and gulp, he sent up another note of thanks to God.

“You're really serious about this fling thing, huh? Because even if you weren't looking, I can promise you that you would find one wearing that bikini.” He said his words slowly and deliberately, and her eyes moved from his chest to his face.

Her eyes narrowed, and she smiled her devilish little smile. He braced himself, because he knew his Cicely was up to no good when she smiled like that.

His Cicely?

She put her hands on her hips, striking a pose. “This old thing? You think I can land me a willing man in this little old thing?”

It was his turn to swallow and gulp when she did a spin and he got a look at that bikini from behind.

Thank God he'd had the foresight to take her to one of the more private beaches, because clearly this woman was trying to start a riot. He was torn between wrapping his towel around her, throwing her in the car, taking her home and making sweet love to her
or finding a secluded spot on the beach and making sweet love to her.

The only thing he knew for certain was that if Cicely Stevens was serious about having a fling in Dahinda, she wasn't going to have it with anyone but him.

For some reason, submitting to the inevitable was a freeing thing. He realized that he could enjoy their time at the beach—indeed, enjoy the rest of the day—with Cicely without even touching her. Because before it was all over, before she stepped onto the plane to Miami, Cicely Stevens would be his.

He reached out his hand and she took it. He felt that shock of electricity that he always felt when he touched her, and this time it didn't throw him off at all. He welcomed it like a balm.

He smiled. “Yes, that little old thing. You're trying to cause riots.”

He could have sworn he saw her blush.

“You know, Chase Yearwood, you're actually a pretty okay guy. I think I could
almost
like you.” She stuck out her tongue.

He was pretty sure she did it to try and keep the confession that she liked him on a playful level. But he already knew the deal. Playtime was over. He just had to figure out when he was going to apprise her of that.

 

After spending the day seeing the island and hanging out with Chase, Cicely knew she was
treading into some pretty dangerous territory. As she sat in her hotel room waiting for him to come pick her up for a night of dinner and dancing, she knew that even if they had decided to put their past differences and that student government election behind them, she was still in trouble. Her heart still remembered what happened the last time she let her guard down around The Wolf.

He was the one guy who made her forget the childhood vow she made when she watched her mother pine over the man who left her to die with no one there to care for her but her two kids and her mother-in-law. Cicely vowed to never let any man get close enough to hurt her. And most of the guys she dated never really had a chance to get close.

She had picked them for that reason. Her “type” had never really been her
type.
They were just safety nets for her heart.

But there was something about Chase. From the first time she'd met him in the student government office at FAMU and they got into their first disagreement about how the student fees allocated to student government could be used most efficiently, she knew he had the ability to get under her skin and possibly into her heart. And she'd made it her business—worked damned hard at it, even—to make sure they never agreed on anything. Except for that one kiss that nearly cost her the election and broke
her heart, she'd survived her college experience with Chase almost unscathed.

But now…now…she was very close to running through hell with a pair of gasoline thongs on, and she was pretty sure she wouldn't come through this round with Chase unscathed.

Just thinking about how he looked in his purple-and-gold swim trunks almost had her breathless again.

That chest. Lord, that chest!

The man had a washboard stomach and pectorals that gave new meaning to the words “perfectly sculpted.” And when he'd asked her to spread some sunscreen on his back?

Mercy.

She had to beg for mercy, because she didn't think she was going to be able to stop touching him, until he'd asked her if she wanted him to put some sunscreen on her back…

She would never really know or understand how she was able to make it off that beach and back to her hotel without making wild, passionate love to Chase Yearwood. All she could do was hope that whatever it was would get her through the rest of the night out with him.

The knock at the door startled her out of her reverie. She glanced down at her outfit and decided she didn't look bad. Her tangerine wrap-style dress
was formfitting and stopped just about mid-thigh. She had paired the dress with some copper-colored leather strappy sandals, copper drop earrings and copper bangles. She went stockingless and just oiled up her legs. She had to admit the mid-thigh dress made it seem like her already-long legs were even longer.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door, and for the umpteenth time that day she found herself staring speechlessly at Chase. He must have gotten the same wardrobe memo, because he had on a deep rust, short-sleeved silk shirt and some perfectly creased brown linen slacks. They looked very much like a couple about to have a sensuous night out on the town. And that was the problem….

They looked like a couple!

His eyes traveled down her legs and back up to her face. He gave a slow, easy, sexy grin. “So, are you ready to get a taste of Dahinda's nightlife?”

She was nowhere near ready for whatever Chase had in mind with his hooded eyes and his deep make-a-girl-weak voice. But she wasn't a punk, either. Stevens girls were tough!

She tilted her head and gave a half smile. “I'm ready. Are you?”

He held out his hand and she took it just to feel the warmth of that electric shock. She was starting
to get used to it, welcome it, even. And that was the problem.

They drove to the restaurant in silence. She didn't trust herself to talk because she was pretty sure she would have said something stupid like,
Hey, Chase, wanna have a fling?

So she twiddled her thumbs and let the island breeze relax her. She had come to the realization that she wasn't going to have an island fling after all. Because Chase Yearwood was the only man she wanted to have a fling with.

And she couldn't have a fling with him. She just couldn't.

When they reached the restaurant, she could hardly believe her eyes. It had everything. It was beautiful, romantic and right on the beach. They sat at a table that allowed them to look out onto the beach and ocean. The soft candlelight flickered off of the white tablecloths around the room. A steel-drum band played in the corner, and there was even a small dance floor. The restaurant exemplified upscale island chic.