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OKAY. ANDA HAD ALWAYS know that her first try at taking the lead and hitting on someone might not work. Might not be ideal. Hindsight being twenty-twenty, she probably should’ve, oh, looked at his freaking face before issuing an invitation.
Because the very last person Anda had expected to proposition was the man who broke her heart.
“Chance!” she gasped.
Yeah, it wasn’t great. Neither cutting nor sexy. But honestly, it was a miracle enough brain cells had unfrozen from their shock to spit even that single word out.
“Anda. You look amazing.” He brushed back a strand of her hair. “Still smell great, too.”
Crap. Not just her brain cells had frozen. Her whole body was still snuggled up against his back, mouth practically touching his face. Moving carefully, as if his entire body was a live grenade with the pin halfway out, Anda hinged away from him.
Then took two steps back. For safety.
“This is a bizarre coincidence.”
“Not really. Guess you discovered the gift certificate was about to expire, too. It’s actually more of a surprise that more women from the show aren’t here.”
No. No way. This week was about reclaiming herself. How was she supposed to do that if any of those gossipy harpies were also here?
One problem at a time.
Chance was wrong. Fate couldn’t possibly be so cruel as to dump former contestants on her when she had to deal with Chance. “Mmm. They say timing is everything.”
“Here.” He toed out the stool next to him. “Have a seat.” Then Chance beckoned the bartender with a single raised finger. Because he had that strong a presence. He commanded every room, every situation he was in.
Hell. Not this one. Anda slid onto the stool. “I’ll have a French 75. And please bring the gentleman a refill.” She couldn’t go back on her offer. That would be rude.
His thick black eyebrows shot halfway up his forehead. “That means your offer still stands? You really want to have a drink with me?”
No.
Yes.
Hell, no.
Desperately.
Chance lightly touched the back of her hand with his fingers. It was such a butterfly-soft brush that, if Anda hadn’t been looking, she might not have noticed.
Who was she kidding? Every cell in her body was on high alert. Of course, she felt it.
In a low, sexy rumble he said, “I’d very much like to have a drink with you, Anda. If that’s okay.”
Pride alone had her pinning on a star-bright smile. “Absolutely. I’d like to catch up.”
“You didn’t watch the show?”
Her teeth ground together. “No.” That sounded...final. And possibly hinted at how she’d been too upset to watch him, to watch the two of them spend what had felt like such happy time together. She needed an excuse. Fast. “The camera adds ten pounds and ten years. And since I’m not an aspiring actress, there was no driving need to see myself in HD.”
“I didn’t watch it either,” he admitted as the bartender set down their drinks. “I’ll bet Jackie did, though. And Nicola. Those two couldn’t stop looking in mirrors. I once caught Nicola trying to see her reflection in her water glass.”
That surprised a laugh out of Anda. She’d seen the woman try the same trick out by the pool one day. Then Chance laughed.
And oh, it felt so good to laugh together again.
Dangerously so.
He lifted a rocks glass, probably filled with his favorite MacCallan. “To good surprises.”
“Better than the alternative,” Anda said wryly, before clinking.
As they both sipped, they both looked over the glass rims at each other.
And their knees touched below the lip of the bar.
Anda took another sip, scrambling desperately to adjust her plan. Should she make a break for the bathroom? Text Jenny for advice?
Chance looked happy to see her. Of course, he was a sort of an actor, so that didn’t mean much. She thought back to Jenny’s analysis. Chance hadn’t ever intended to be in a meaningful relationship with Anda. But he had wanted her. Chosen her, over all the other women.
So, he probably was being sincere now. Happy to happen upon a beautiful woman at this desert oasis. It cut down on any effort on his part to go on the prowl for a hookup.
That was it.
In a stroke of brilliance, Anda tweaked her plan. Oh, she’d have a hookup, as per the original plan—the hottest one over. Except it’d be coated in ice-cold revenge.
If she could coax him back into bed for a couple of more nights of amazing sex, then Anda could be the one to turn the tables and kick him out. Dumping Chance would definitely be the final step in her healing process.
Revenge sex was the ultimate best revenge. In a circular, mostly confusing fashion.
She’d have to figure out a better way to put it before laying the revised plan out for Jenny.
Chance rubbed his big hands together slowly. Anda remembered exactly what it felt like to have those wide palms rubbing against her.
“Look, I don’t know if I’ve got any longer than it takes me to drain this glass, so I’m going to put my cards on the table. About what happened in Colorado. On the show. That last night—”
Oh, no. Nope. Nuh-uh. Letting Chance apologize would significantly dampen the depth of her revenge. Anda couldn’t allow it. Not to mention that it would probably piss her off.
She waved off his attempt at what would undoubtedly be some sort of trumped-up, half-assed apology. And channeled the firm, “don’t bullshit me” tone that she’d used with newbie fashion designers who came to her boutique insisting that they were poised to become The Next Big Thing and thus were justified in overcharging her.
“Stop right there. We both know that everything about the whole show was manufactured for television. None of it mattered. None of it was real.”
Chance startled at her words. “I didn’t think you’d say that.”
Ditto.
But knowing that Chance had lied to her repeatedly made it almost easy to smoothly lie to him now. Especially with the strong motivation of putting him at ease so she could implement the whole revenge sex plan.
“It’s the simple truth.” Anda made a lazy wave to encompass the whole bar. “There’s no cameras here. No reason to pretend at anything.”
“You told me that you came on the show not for fame or money, but to find love. That your boutique closing unexpectedly gave you the opportunity to shift focus away from work, and onto a more lasting happiness.”
Wow. He’d remembered exactly what she’d said. All of it.
It had been at the first night cocktail party, when every woman clawed and fought for more than their allotted three minutes of private time with Chance. Anda knew being honest was a sucky strategy. But she also knew that if he was the right man for her, being honest would strike a chord with him. That her quest for commitment wouldn’t run him off.
He’d been taken aback. Laughed, until he realized she wasn’t kidding. Then he’d stilled. Looked her up and down once more as though seeing her for the first time. Called her the only person in the room with a worthwhile motivation. Then he’d finished by thanking her for opening up to him.
That moment was when Anda had started falling head over heels for Chance.
If he was truly nothing more than a shallow, sex-obsessed player, then why had he remembered?
Why had he cared enough to remember?
Confused, she sipped at her bubbly cocktail. “Caught your attention, didn’t I? Stood out from the crowd?” Except it was hard for Anda to keep up this brittle persona. So, she’d just talk to him. They were good at that. “The best lies are based in truth.”
“Which part was true?”
“The boutique I ran for my parents really did get shut down out of the blue. The landlord sold the entire strip of shops to a developer. They couldn’t come up with the cash to fight it fast enough. We liquidated what we could. I talked a few competitor boutiques into buying the rest of our merchandise at cost. That saved my parents.”
Chance shifted, his thigh rubbing against hers. He patted her forearm. “That was a lousy break.”
“Well, here in Lalaland, people are usually obsessed about what’s good for them without worrying about the consequences.” Whoops. That was probably a bit too on point. A targeted jab straight from her heart aimed at his like a harpoon. “In the year leading up to the closing, I’d gone to seven bridal showers, and three weddings. It brought home that all my attention had been poured into the business for too long. That if I kept up that way, I’d wake up at forty-five with nothing but a passel of cats on the other side of the bed.”
One side of his mouth—his beautiful, full mouth that Anda could chew on for days—quirked up. “Didn’t you tell me you’re allergic to cats?”
“Exactly.” They both laughed again. It was a good way to cover Anda’s amazement that he remembered her allergy, too.
Then again, Chance was a smart man. His stunt work required a ripped body, but there was a steely determination locked in it, and one heck of a mind that calculated risks and trajectories and all sorts of physics. Remembering details from their conversations did not, in any way, shape or form, equate to caring about her.
She would not fall into that trap.
Not again.
She shifted her forearm out from beneath his hand. “So yes, I’d like to meet a man who appreciates me. Who wants to share his life with a partner. Who makes me laugh. Who makes my heart stutter when I think about him. Who makes me feel like the only woman in the world.” Anda gave him a tight-lipped smile that—hopefully—was garnished with a smidge of condescension. “The part where I lied? I never expected to find that man on a reality dating show.”
Actually? That wasn’t even a lie. Anda had never expected to fall for the handsome hunk on Man of Her Dreams. She’d merely hoped...
“I, uh, well, I can’t say I expected to find someone special on the show, either.”
“See? We’re on the same page.”
This was going great. Anda was positive she was projecting the right image. One that did not, in any way, so much as hint at the depth of sadness she’d felt at being dumped by him. No, not even her very real wounded pride at being dumped on national television. Not the overwhelming sadness at losing Chance in her life. At losing what she’d seen as the strong possibility of a lasting relationship.
Nope.
He couldn’t begin guess at that. Anda reached under the bar to rap her knuckles on what she hoped was wood for good luck.
Chance gave her another one of those long, evaluating looks. It was clear the wheels were turning in his brain, but he didn’t let on about what. It was the kind of look that made a woman either check for lipstick on her teeth...or wonder if he was secretly psychic and listening in to her desperate thoughts.
Then he spread his hand wide, palms up. “Well? Have you had any success? Finding a rich, smart, handsome, funny guy who brings you flowers every week and dishes out orgasms in triplicate?”
Anda practically did a spit take. She did have to swallow too hard and too fast. The bubbles burned the back of her throat. The pain chased away the memory that had tried to zing into her brain of the night he’d given her three orgasms.
“Now who’s not anchored at all in reality?”
“The reality is that you deserve all of that. At a minimum.” Chance sandwiched her hand between his. Then he squeezed, just hard enough to press his warmth into her. Also, just enough to melt her resolve to hate him by at least a few notches.
Which should not, could not, happen. Breezy, bright and light. Keeping it shallow, like a stone skipping across the water.
Anda fell back on the oldie but goodie of an eye roll. “Sure. And why not make this paragon of virtue a prince, too? With two sisters who will be my new BFFs?”
“You don’t want to be a princess. You’d have to give up your career. That wouldn’t work.”
The tips of her fingers curled around the edges of his hand. Because Chance was right.
Chance got her. He didn’t just remember surface facts. He remembered who she was, at her core. He’d listened to her, and absorbed so much more than her words, and that was so special. That was what women wanted from a man.
Anda simply couldn’t help herself from opening up to him after that spot-on assessment.
“I miss it so much,” she admitted. “I know I overdid it. That I wanted to prove to my parents I could handle whatever responsibility they threw at me, so I took on too much. The boutique took up every waking hour of my day. I started helping out there when I was twelve.”
“What was your favorite part?”
“It’s hard to choose. There’s the immediate satisfaction of balancing the books.”
This time Chance was the one who almost did a spit take. “You enjoyed the accounting?”
“The basic QuickBooks stuff. We had an accountant for the tricky parts. But there’s a lot of uncertainty in life. Numbers? They either add up or they don’t. It was like a palate cleanser for my brain.”
“Does that mean you don’t want to go back to fashion retail? Do you want to take your love of numbers and plug away in a big corporation?”
“I...I don’t know.” Anda toyed with the stem of her flute, but it was empty. “I really like the personal connection. It isn’t brain surgery, but helping someone find an outfit that gives them confidence and makes them feel beautiful? That can be the difference between dreading a party and enjoying it. Or, yes, giving them a kick-ass attitude for an interview. But...I don’t know.”
Chance signaled the bartender for a refill. “Is there something you want—need—to talk about? It can be easier to unload on an objective outsider.”
“Yes. No. It’ll jinx it.”
Thick eyebrows shot up his forehead. “You’re here deciding if you should take a new job? Congratulations!”
His easy warmth was soooo seductive.
Anda shook her head. “I don’t have offers yet. A couple of interviews that went really well. Two very, very different jobs.”
“Ah. I see. Even if you only get one offer, you still don’t want to take it if it’s wrong.”
“Exactly.” Her friends and her parents did not understand her attitude. It was such a treat to have Chance see her side. “My bank account and my highly expensive COBRA insurance say take anything. But my heart wants it to be the right thing, not settle for just anything.”
“Yeah. Right there with you. Turns out I’m in a weirdly similar situation.” He lifted his fresh glass and clinked it against hers. “To clarity. Or, putting back enough of these to not care for tonight.” His deep, self-deprecating laughter rumbled out.
It rolled over her like a physical stroke. Goose bumps broke out on Anda’s arms. Legs. Probably other places, too.
Their conversation was flowing as easily as it had seven months ago. They connected. They understood each other.
How was this happening?
She needed to escape. It had been too much of a shock to discover Chance here. Anda needed a night to process it, to accept the shift in plan and steel herself against falling for his tricks, his lines, his....
Damn it, nothing he said sounded like a line. His interest seemed genuine. Which she knew it couldn’t be. Escape was her only option.
Right after she baited the hook...
Anda gave a toss of her head that should send her blowout into perfect, cascading ripples to end at her very on-display breasts. Sure enough, Chance’s eyes did a slo-mo follow of her hair. “I’d love to hear how our situations are the same. It sounds like there’s a story there, for sure. But I’m afraid I’m meeting a friend for dinner. I was killing time in here until she was ready.”
“That’s a shame. It feels like we barely started talking.”
Anda completely agreed.
Damn it.
“Well, this is just my first night here. If you’re staying for a few days as well, why don’t we plan to have some fun together? That is, if you’re interested. Oh, wait.” In a move so calculatedly flirty that it shocked her a little, Anda stroked her fingers through the hair above his ear. The motion ended with her palm cradling the back of his head....and pulling it towards her. “I should probably check if I’m still interested.”
Then she kissed him.
Anda tried to start with a light brush. Just enough of a tease to back up her challenge. But...that lasted all of a millisecond. Honestly—and she knew she’d be replaying this in her head all night—there was no moment where she or Chance took the kiss deeper. It absolutely, one-hundred percent happened simultaneously.
It was like waving a bottle of water in front of someone stumbling out of the desert...and that person grabbing it with both hands and chugging.
Chance’s hands shot forward to her waist, pulling Anda off the stool to between his legs as he stood. She locked her wrists behind his neck. And they kissed—
Well, they kissed like two desperate people who hadn’t seen each other in seven months.
It was hot and hard.
Less finesse. More raw passion.
It was like falling into the sun. Bright. Almost painfully heated, from the inside out.
Joy filled.
It was all kinds of right.
“Sir, your drinks will be on the house if you relocate your action to outside by the pool. Or possibly even your rooms upstairs.” The bartender’s pointed suggestion broke them apart.
Chance grinned, wiping her lipstick off with the back of his wrist. “Sorry. We were catching up.”
“I assure you, the entire bar is now caught up.”
He pulled a wad of bills from his pocket and slid them across the bar. “No need to comp the drinks. We’re sorry for getting carried away inappropriately.”
Heart pounding faster than her little Chihuahua client Elmer ran at the sight of a cat, Anda backed away. “Chance, no. This was my treat. I’ll comp it to my room.”
“What kind of a gentleman would I be if I let you do that? All you can do for me is tell me that you’re still interested. Interested enough to meet me tomorrow for a date?”
If she said yes, she could make her escape. Gather her overstimulated nerves, racing pulse and frazzled thoughts in peace and quiet in her suite.
If she said yes, it would further her plan.
It wouldn’t necessarily broadcast to Chance just how much that kiss had thrown her for a loop.
“Why yes, I do find myself interested in the possibility of a do-over with you.” She grabbed a cocktail napkin and scribbled down her cell number. “Text me with a time and place. Because you’ve still definitely got skills.”
“You’ve still got...everything.”
Unable to risk looking back up at him, Anda waved over her shoulder and raced out. She even kicked off her heels as she rounded the corner so she could get to the elevator faster.
One thought kept chasing around her brain on a loop as she hurried down the hallway, dodging entwined couples and laughing groups of woman.
That was not the kiss of a man without feelings for her.