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.