Caribbean Escape With The Tycoon

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.”

And her fiancé hadn’t liked it.

Vance watched as Chanelle slumped forward, her chin resting in one hand. Her earlier levity was gone, and he suspected the wine might have had something to do with her shift in emotions. He couldn’t imagine her spilling all this personal stuff to him otherwise.

He glanced at his watch and sprang out of his seat. “I’m sorry to cut this short, Chanelle, but I have to be somewhere else. Five minutes ago, actually,” he added ruefully. “I’ll let you enjoy your dessert in peace. By the way, will you be catching the opening night’s performance in the Milky Way Theater?”

“I—I…maybe,” she said cautiously before picking up her fork again to dig into her risotto.

“Okay then,” he said slowly, nodding. “Maybe I’ll see you there. Arrivederci.”

Vance glanced at her left hand. He was about to add something and then decided against it. Feeling a strange tug in his stomach muscles, he rose and left.

Vance sprinted toward the theater. He had been totally absorbed—distracted—with Chanelle Robinson. Thank goodness he had looked at his watch or he would have been inexcusably late, missing his cue to address the guests on this special cruise.

In five minutes, the cruise director would be welcoming the crowd, then he’d be introducing him, and Vance would share the reason he and his family were on board the Aquarius. They had decided to keep it from the media and had simply wanted to have a relatively small celebration of Vance’s official position as president. They had decided on a five-day cruise just to relax, mingle with their invited guests—who had promised to keep the event under wraps—and have a gala evening midweek, when Vance’s mother would announce her retirement and formally pass over the business to Vance.

The uninvited guests were in for a surprise, for the gala would be open to them also, in appreciation for their patronage and, for some, their loyalty in returning to Zodiac Cruises for a holiday. In fact, what seemed to be trending was for Zodiac faithfuls to book a different Zodiac ship each time they cruised. Vance had already met a group of nine forty-something women who had already cruised on four of the ships in the fleet. They had been friends since high school, and although they didn’t all live in the same town, they reunited every year for their one-week cruise.

Vance had smiled at them earlier in the lobby of the art gallery. As he had strolled by, he had heard one of them whisper, “He doesn’t have a ring. He must be unattached…” And one of her friends had chortled. “Lucky gal who gets to attach themselves to that. I’ll be having sweet dreams tonight…and of course, I’ll be the lucky gal.” And at the resounding laughter, he had stifled a chuckle and had gone to chat with the art rep.

Now, entering the slightly dimmed theater, Vance looked around. Spotting Mariah, he made his way to the third row in the orchestra section. Mariah smiled at him and continued checking her messages on her cell phone. Vance sat back and thought about what the ladies had said.

“He must be unattached.”

Well, they were right. For the most part. At the moment he was not seeing anyone. His last relationship had fizzled out after his father had died. Brianna was a wealthy socialite his mother had invited over one night, someone she had thought might be a good match for Vance. They had seen each other for several months, but Vance hadn’t been ready for a serious commitment, and Brianna had.

If she had been the right one, wouldn’t he have wanted to settle down?

His mother had hinted more than once—and not too subtly—that perhaps he should start trying to find someone who could become more permanent in his life. He was thirty-four, after all, and didn’t he get tired of dating one beautiful woman after another? Vance smirked at the memory of the comment she had made once—that he changed women as often as he changed cars.

“You’re not getting any younger, son, and neither am I. I don’t expect to have grandchildren when I’m too old to be able to lift them. Or play with them.”

Occasionally she had taken a sterner approach, pinning him with her steel-blue eyes.

“You can’t be a playboy all your life, Vance. It’s time to get serious…serious about settling down.”

Vance had instinctively known that his mother had felt responsible for indulging him and his sister in all ways. They had grown up spoiled and entitled, he had heard her complain to his father, and now they expected that lifestyle to continue.

Especially Vance. At least Mariah had married and blessed her with a grandson. She could be high-maintenance at times, but being a parent had tamed her somewhat. Now Vance, on the other hand…

A week after his mother had voiced her concerns, his father had died. And the lifestyle Vance had known had come abruptly to a halt. There were matters to take care of, both personal and business, and his mother had been too distraught to deal with any of them. It had been left to Vance to make the funeral arrangements and to be the strong shoulder for both his mother and sister.

Brianna had expressed sympathy, but she was used to a certain pace in her life, and she had expected Vance to keep up with her high-profile social events and private parties a few weeks after the funeral.

But the passing of his father had taken the desire for partying right out of Vance. The immensity of his father’s responsibilities and the esteem in which his business associates had held him had made Vance acutely aware that his involvement in the company had been peripheral at best. And when it had been time for the last goodbyes, and his mother, sister, brother-in-law and nephew had walked away, Vance had stayed behind to quietly reiterate the vow he had failed to make to his father before he died.

Soon after, when he had told Brianna about his intentions and that he couldn’t make a firm commitment, Brianna had skipped out of his life.

Vance checked the time on his phone. One minute before the show… He glanced at Mariah and saw that she was texting her husband, who hadn’t been able to join them on the cruise, as he was tending to business in Europe.

Vance glanced around and was pleased to see that the theater was filling quickly. His eyes narrowed as he searched the moving groups for a sign of Chanelle. And then he checked himself.

Why did he even care if she attended the opening or not?

The orchestra started up, and a minute later, cruise director Jake Ross walked out on stage. At his cue, Vance strode to the side door that led to the stage and waited for Jake’s intro. Jake warmed up the audience with his jokes and stories about funny experiences onboard, and when the laughter had subsided, his tone became more serious.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I have the distinct pleasure of welcoming you to the Aquarius and to our opening night show here in the beautiful Milky Way Theater. You are in for a few surprises this week, starting with the man you are going to meet shortly. He is someone who has taken on the monumental task of leadership of Zodiac Cruises these past nine months since the passing of Mr. Bruce Kingston—Zodiac’s founder and president—proving with his unreserved determination, razor-sharp focus and relentless efforts and inexhaustible energy that he has everything it takes not only to continue in his father’s fine footsteps, but to leap beyond. He will reveal his vision for the company during this cruise, and I am sure that you will be as excited as the staff of the Aquarius and of the entire fleet of Zodiac Cruise ships to hear about his initiatives and to celebrate during this special cruise.” He turned toward his right and extended a hand. “And now, please join me in welcoming Mr. Vance Kingston, acting president and co-owner of Zodiac Cruises!”

Vance stepped out to a resounding applause. He was moved by Jake’s words and the crowd’s enthusiasm, and after thanking them for their presence and participation in a Zodiac cruise, he explained why he was there, and what they would be in for.

At the loud cheers of approval and whistles, he gave a bow, and when he raised his head, his gaze landed on a guest who was just sitting down on the far end of a middle row in the right-hand section of the theater.

Chanelle…

Had she arrived in time to hear him from the beginning? He pulled his gaze away from her. Ordinarily, he had no problem addressing a large crowd, but somehow, knowing she was there, he suddenly felt awkward. He hadn’t told her anything about himself, and he couldn’t help wondering if she’d be feeling awkward as well when she realized who he was.

He finished up his address and thanked the audience again. His gaze swept casually over the crowd, and for a few seconds, Chanelle seemed to be looking straight at him. As the orchestra started up with a musical number that would take the audience through decades of Broadway theater productions, Vance strode off the stage, the cue for the Aquarius dancers to appear.

He and Mariah had chosen seats near the front on the left-hand section of the theater. Vance was too far away from where Chanelle was sitting to even get a glimpse of her. As he sat down, he exchanged smiles with Mariah, who squeezed his arm in approval. The chandeliers were dimmed, and the dancers burst onto the stage in a swirl of sequins, lights and music. Vance sat back in the plush seat to take in the spectacular opening, but as the dancers spun past, it was a pair of hazel-green eyes that danced before him…

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