The Millionaire Claims His Wife(22)

       
           



       

Like Janet Pendleton, who was going to become his wife.

Annie's throat felt raspy. It was silly, but she felt like crying.

"You're right." she said.

"You're damned right I am."

"This entire thing-our getting on that plane in the first place, and now  our getting stuck here is-just, what's the word? Karnna."

Chase could hardly believe it. Annie, holding out an olive branch? It  seemed inconceivable but hell, most of what had happened during the past  forty-eight hours fell into that very same category. If it was an olive  branch, what did he have to lose if he accepted it? If he was going to  spend the night in that rocker-and he was-it would be a lot better for  the both of them if they weren't at each other's throats.

"Karma," he said, as he lifted his hands from her shoulders. "Don't tell me. You're taking a course in Eastern religions."

Annie smiled and shook her head. "I bought a computer. That's what the  guy who installed it said. It's karma if you can get a computer to work  right, and karma if you can't."

"You bought yourself a computer?"

"For business. But it's turned out to be fun, too. The Internet, that kind of thing."

"Uh-huh. Who showed you how to use it? The pan...Hoffman?"

"I taught myself. Well, with a little help from Dawn."

"Really." Chase smiled. "Maybe you'll give me some pointers, sometime.  I'm still all thumbs at anything more complicated than punching up a  spreadsheet."

"Sure."

Their eyes met and held, and then Chase made a show of looking around at  the room. "I'm really sorry about this. The accommodations, I mean. I  never dreamed Tanaka would dump us out here."

"It's a bit much, I admit." Annie smiled. "But it's beautiful, too.  Maybe this is what hotels are like, wherever it is he comes from."

Chase grinned. "He's from Dallas, babe-I mean, Annie. No, I suspect he figured we wanted to spend some private time together."

Annie laughed. "Cupid Tanaka, huh?"

"So it would seem."

Again, silence closed around them. Annie sat down on the edge of the rocker.

"So," she said briskly, "what're you going to do? Tear this place down, then build the retreat he wants from scratch?"

"Something like that."

"I'll bet the final result will be spectacular."

"Livable, anyway," Chase said, leaning back against the wall and folding his arms.

Annie smiled. "Don't be modest, Chase. I know your work is well thought  of. I see your name-the company's name-in the papers all the time.  You've made it to the top."

"So they tell me." His tone was flat, and so was his smile. "To tell you  the truth, the only thing I've noticed is that if that's where I am,  it's not all it's cracked up to be."

"Aren't you happy?"

"Are you?"

She stared at him. Why was she hesitating? Of course, she was happy. She  had her house. Her business. Friends. Interests. A life that was  comfortable, not one in which she was expected to play a role.

"Annie?"

She looked up. Chase had moved closer. She had only to reach out her hand, if she wanted to touch him.

"Are you happy?" he asked softly.

She wanted to say that she was. To tell him what she'd just told herself, how her life had taken on shape and meaning.

Instead she found herself thinking how wonderful it had felt when they'd  kissed. She wanted to tell him that though she'd made a good life for  herself, there was an emptiness to it that she hadn't even been aware of  until she'd gone into his arms on the dance floor.

But to say any of that would have been stupid. Chase was out of her  life; she was out of his. That was the way they both wanted it. Hadn't  they proved that a few hours ago, when they'd gone at each other, hammer  and tong? Whatever she thought she'd felt since the wedding was an  aberration.

"Yes," she said, with a smile that felt as if it were stretching her  lips grotesquely, "certainly, I'm happy. I've never been more content in  my life."

A curtain seemed to drop over Chase's eyes.

"Of course," he said politely. "You're happy, with your business and your fiancé."

Annie nodded. "And so are you."

"Yeah. And so am I."

They looked at each other and then Chase walked to the door.

"Well," he said briskly, "I think I'll go check out the refrigerator.  There's bound to be enough food for a couple of meals there, or in the  freezer."                       
       
           



       

"All the conveniences, hmm? Even way out here."

"Everybody's got a different definition of roughing it, I guess."

"So I see. If you'd told me we'd end up in a cabin on an island a  million miles from civilization, I'd have imagined a one-room shack with  a propane stove on the porch and an outhouse in the back."

Chase smiled. "Like the place we rented that summer after we got  married. Remember? The outdoor sun-shower, the one-hole, no-flush  John..."

Annie laughed. "How could I forget? We bought that funny set of pots and  pans that were supposed to fit inside each other, and those sleeping  bags..."

"Boy, we were dumb," Chase said, laughing, too. "We must have spent,  what, an hour or more trying to figure out how to zip the bags together  because we sure as hell weren't going to sleep apart..." His words  trailed off. "Damn," he said softly, "I haven't thought of that weekend  in years."

Neither had Annie. Just remembering made her throat constrict.

"I-I think I'll go freshen up," she said. "And then-and then, maybe I'll  take a walk, too. Just to clear my head. The flight was so long,  and-and everything's been so hurried..."

"Yeah. Sure." Chase swallowed dryly. "You go on. Wash up, walk around, whatever. I'll check out the supplies."

"I'll come give you a hand in a few minutes." She gave a quick, brittle  laugh. "I wish I had a hairbrush with me, or even some lipstick. I feel  like a complete mess."

Chase thought of telling her the truth, that she didn't need a brush or  cosmetics because she was already more beautiful than any woman he'd  ever known.

Hell, he thought, and he pulled open the door, stepped out into the hall  and strode away from temptation as fast as he could without breaking  into a run.





CHAPTER EIGHT

CHASE GLANCED at his watch.

The Tanaka Hotel wasn't as perfect as it looked, he thought wryly. The  freezer and the refrigerator had turned out to be surprisingly empty.  Someone must have emptied things out, in preparation for the day the  cabin would be demolished.

Still, there'd been some usable stuff in the pantry and he'd been able  to come up with the makings for an improvised meal. Now, he was peeling  potatoes and onions but his thoughts were elsewhere. Fifteen minutes had  gone by since he'd heard the front door open, then shut as Annie had  gone off on her walk.

Maybe he ought to go look for her.

Not that there was anything to worry about on this island. It was wild  and isolated, but nothing here could harm her. There were no predatory  animals, not of a size to be a problem. No bears, or coyotes...

Well, he supposed there probably were snakes, though the odds of Annie  meeting up with one on the neatly kept gravel path that traversed the  island were remote.

Spiders, though. There were definitely spiders-he'd seen some Class A  specimens the first time Tanaka had brought him out here. They'd been  the size of a child's fist but they were harmless.

It was just that Annie had a thing about creepy craw-lies.

He'd learned that the winter he'd scored his first really big contract.  On his way home after he'd landed the deal, he'd stopped to buy Annie a  box of chocolates. There was a kid on the corner near the subway,  selling single red roses; Chase had selected the prettiest one he could  find and just then, he'd spied a travel agency across the street. There  was a big, bright poster in the window.

Come To The Virgin Islands, it said.

Under the words was a picture of a smiling couple, holding hands under a  fiery tropic sun and gazing lovingly into each other's eyes.

Chase hadn't hesitated. He'd trotted across the street and straight into  the travel agency. A bored clerk had looked up from a scarred wooden  desk.

"We're just about to close," she'd said. "Why don't you come back tomorrow and-"

"That poster. The one in the window." He'd been too young, and too  flushed with excitement, to phrase his question with any subtlety. "How  much would it cost for me to take my wife to the Virgin Islands?"

The clerk had looked at the rose in his hand and the chocolates under  his arm, and maybe at him, too, all youthful, eager anticipation,  cleaned up but wearing, as he had in those years, the chambray shirt,  jeans and work boots he felt most comfortable in. She'd sighed, but  something that might have been a smile had lit her tired face.