[Bianca]
"Same thing," said Macy nonchalantly. "You are Brianna Chase. And so what if he just wants some? You're both on vacation. I say get some."
"Yes, I'm hanging up now."
"Put out, you prude," Macy said in lieu of a goodbye.
I sat there for some time, lost in thought. Jason and Brianna's betrayal was fresh. Wouldn't leave my mind. I had turned the situation round and round in my head for hours. Guilt. Humiliation. Embarrassment. Sadness. Frankly, I was sick of being miserable.
So I let my thoughts wander back to the sinfully handsome man whose eye I caught in Milan. When he started showing up at random fashion shows I was working at, I figured he was someone's assistant or something. A harmless, wordless, little flirtation ensued. I figured he'd end up fucking Brianna and call it a day. How wrong I had been.
Years of checking each other out across rooms followed. After being with Jason for a long time and getting minimal effort energy, it felt good to be looked at again. So yes, I sent a wink or two his way, but that was it.
Cole snuck up on me. Handsome. Charming. Cocky. The man exuded mystique and possibilities. Even from across a room, he simultaneously made you feel like a woman and a teenage girl, and like he could fulfill the desires of both. He was a fantasy, neatly tucked away in my life as someone I knew I could never have. Until last night.
What the hell was I thinking? Brianna Chase might go around touching men's lips and letting them suck on her finger. I didn't.
I was perfectly fine cordially, but sternly, rebuffing the other nine men who approached me last night. Why not him? When we finally came face to face after years of me evading him, I floundered.
I acted like a fumbling school girl, trying to be sexy for my secret crush. I crashed hard, but he seemed into it anyway.
Fine, so he got my engine going, but men like Cole Hunter were a fantasy for a reason. He would only spell trouble. I was freshly unengaged and primed for fuck ups. It was best to stay away.
I slapped my cheeks and jumped off the bed.
"That's it, enough wallowing," I said to myself. "Let's have a beach day, like Macy said."
Once I started thinking of Cole though, I couldn't stop. The naughty glimpses he stole of my thighs earlier today. Both times. The scent of masculinity that hung in the air around him.
His handsome face. His broad back and shoulders. Inviting, mischievous seagreen eyes. Sea-swept, chestnut brown hair.
His kindness in letting me have his cabin on the plane and then clearing out a restaurant for me. Quiet, unspoken reactions to the scandal that were actually considerate instead of him prying.
Yup. This man was trouble in a tropical suit.
My fists clenched and I felt my thighs squeeze together. A knock on the door snapped me out of my daydreaming. I stuffed my hair behind my ears in an effort to make myself look presentable, before crossing the suite to get to the door.
"Harmon Chancellor, at your service Miss Chase," said the man on the other side of the door. When I opened the door for him, he handed me an envelope. "We do hope that you attend."
"Thank you," I said with a wry smile.
I closed the door before opening the envelope. It contained an invitation, cordially inviting all of the guests to a party to allow everyone to mingle tonight.
"Well I suppose I can't stay in my room forever. There's an entire island to explore and people to meet," I rationalized, but I could hardly keep calm.
Surely the notion of Cole throwing a party simply to draw me out was utterly ridiculous. He wouldn't have a whole get together just for me. The ugly truth of my real personality punched me in the gut. There was a man who might be waiting to see me tonight. Did I go? And if I did, what would I say?
Another knock on the door broke my train of thought. When I opened the door once more, two women accompanied by a selection of dresses, shoes and jewelry walked in.
"Compliments of Mr. Hunter. He sends his apologies for having inconvenienced you this afternoon. Pick anything you like for tonight's dinner party," said one of the women.
"Scratch the might," I mumbled to myself with a gulp. I knew the designer items surrounding me by name. They were the latest fashion, naturally, but that wasn't what got me. All I saw were dollar signs. I could never afford to wear shit like this for longer than a night in a million years. "He's definitely expecting me."
Not just a rack of dresses like you might expect from a billionaire flaunting his money. His choices were carefully selected. That took time and effort. Fuck me for wanting to swoon.
Option one was a midnight silk gown, diamond rivière and lacquered stilettos.
His second choice was an ivory satin slip dress, emerald drops and suede heels.
Option number three was a Scarlet velvet column, antique gold cuffs and patent sandals.
He was being a show off and I wasn't mad about it. Instinct told me to refuse his gifts. My model brain and underused pussy said otherwise.
Fuck, the man was confusing. He made me think he wanted me, but never followed through with asking for a fuck. Yes, I made it hard for him, so why the fuck wasn't he quitting? All the attention he was showering me with instead was messing with my mind. I played Cinderella anyway because hell I was only human and dressed up for him.
Two hours later, I was ready to go, draped in the midnight silk gown. This was a terrible idea and I knew it, but I kept walking towards the restaurant where Cole and I met anyway. Too emotionally drained to make excuses, I accepted that I had cabin fever. Well that and I wanted to see Cole.
"May I?" Cole asked, sneaking up on me from behind and claiming my hand before I had the chance to respond.
"It appears you may," I responded bluntly, a trait I came to associate with being in his presence.
Still, I allowed him to hold onto my hand and escort me into the room. No icing him out tonight. I wanted to know what his intentions were for me. Then fucking what, Bianca? Hell if I knew. I felt like I was playing checkers and he was playing chess.
Ill at ease with all the attention we were drawing, I found myself holding a hand up to my chest. Memories of Brianna's tits flying all over the place as she fucked Jason assaulted me. Realizing all over again why I was here instantly ruined my mood.
"Who knew one hundred people were so many," I proclaimed, now squeezing the hand that held mine as it became hard to breathe.
My chest tightened. Blurry vision. I couldn't think straight. The room spun. I felt like I was dying from a broken heart.
"Surely it's nothing to the great Brianna Chase," he said, moving to let go of my hand.
A switch flipped inside me and I held on tighter, both to his hand and my chest. Cole paused, waiting on me, a quizzical look in his eye.
"Of course not, nothing at all," I said with a hasty smile.
His facial expression went from curious to does it say I'm with stupid on my face. If I weren't trying so hard to halt my panic attack, I would have giggled at the sight. The man was too self assured and comfortable with himself for his own good. Too much the opposite of me. What on earth was I thinking, coming here?
He moved with purpose, cautiously wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I watched as he and Harmon exchanged looks across the room. Cole shook his head no, which sent Harmon into action. The executive assistant cut off another man, who had presumably been en route to Cole.
"Come," Cole said, rushing me back out the way we had entered.
We went from hot to cold in a heartbeat. My defenses went up instinctively and I moved to push him away.
"I'm fine," I choked out.
I couldn't very well tell him the truth. Now could I? I hadn't had a panic attack in years. Why now?