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WHAT MADE A PERFECT date? That felt like an article from a women’s magazine. No, a quiz. Anda might very well have taken it during a trip to the salon—the only time anyone over the age of twenty did those ridiculous quizzes.
Except that now she knew. Yes, her solo dates in Colorado with Chance had felt perfect, aside from knowing they were being taped and watched and judged every single second. Tonight, though? With the two of them in perfect sync, laughing and drinking and sharing and kissing and holding hands and flirting?
It had been utter perfection.
Which kind of pissed her off.
Everything was going so well between them. Just like it had before. So why on earth had Chance cut her from the show? Dumped her without a word?
Anda couldn’t figure it out. Couldn’t figure him out.
And she hated how hard it was to remember that this was all for show. That he couldn’t actually care for her, and she didn’t dare enjoy his attention.
At least, not too much. Or, okay, she could enjoy herself, as long as she made sure not to believe any of it was real. Sort of like a ride at Disneyland. Fun. Totally submerged you in an evocative, wonderful moment.
But absolutely not real.
Chance slammed the door of their Uber. “How about we catch the tail end of the sunset? Walk off some of those ten tastings you poured down me?”
Now he wanted to share a romantic sunset with her? Was this man for real? “I’d love a stroll. And we tasted seven drinks.”
“They gave us seven tastes,” he corrected. “I helped you with yours. You gave up on all three vodkas.”
If by “gave up” he meant that she strategically pushed her shot glass in front of him? Sure. Chance was the one who decided to toss them back. After all, they’d been tiny pours. Not full shots. Anda didn’t want to make him sick. She merely wanted to lower his inhibitions.
Maybe it was all the pain killers he must’ve tossed back after his career-ending accident, but the man appeared to have one heck of a tolerance.
Which was a good thing in that it helped assuage her guilty conscience. The plan to get Chance drunk felt squicky from the start. Anda had regretted it...but she also hadn’t come up with anything better.
Thanks goodness her dumb-potentially-hurtful plan hadn’t worked. She swung her oval turquoise pendant ringed with silver back and forth on its chain. “I told you. One bad experience in college turned me off vodka shots. Give me a well-blended cocktail with vodka in it and I’m fine, though.”
Chance pointed at the fork in the path. One side led to the canopied entrance to the resort. The other wended its way through a gate bordered with tall saguaro cacti and down to the massive swimming pool complex. “Your call, beautiful.”
Sticking to the script—and every cell in her body that wanted to soak up more time with him—Anda said in a flirty tone, “I don’t think there’s a woman on this planet who’d turn down a sunset stroll with you, Mr. DiMarco.”
“I don’t care about any of them. Only you.”
He kept saying things like that. Meaningful, tender, wonderful things.
How could he?
Chance used his key to swipe them through the gate. He made a point of holding it for her, and then lacing his fingers with hers as they followed the flagstone path. The whole night had been like that.
Gentlemanly touches in the way he pulled out the stool at the bar for her, and offered her sips of everything from his own glass. The time he shoved back the wooden plank holding the shot glasses to plant his elbows, lean forward and grab her hands across the table. The solicitous way he’d pushed back her hair from her cheek after the cool wind mussed it into her face.
Because Chance was a dream date. Kind. Tender. Funny. Sexy. And best of all, the way he’d stared at her, with unwavering focus, in the distillery full of women cruising for a date. Everyone in there had perfectly flat-ironed hair, sexy-verging-on-slutty outfits and wore desperation as if it had been layered on in a triple combination of body wash/lotion/perfume.
He’d only had eyes for her. Anda.
God, it had been heady and wonderful.
Desert chaparral and bright yellow flowers poked up from the borders. The desert flourished in January. Anda loved the stark contrast between the brown dirt and mountains and the flourishes of color that reminded you beauty always found a way.
The pool, three hot tubs, bar, patio and cabanas were spread out, gated on three sides against coyotes and tumbleweeds. Despite the stunning streaks of pink and purple painting the sky, Chance and Anda were alone out here.
They walked to the furthest fence, hanging onto the wrought iron bars in silence as bluish-purple darkness spread across the valley. It was stunning.
And stunningly romantic.
Darn it, his motives—real or ulterior—didn’t, couldn’t, matter at this moment. What was that Thoreau quote about sucking the marrow out of life? Anda would use Chance as her sounding board, here and now. Enjoy the hell out of his support, here and now. Relish the way he listened to her and made her laugh.
Sucking the marrow out of life meant doing all of that, here and now, while not giving a single moment’s thought or concern to walking away from him in two days.
“This makes me reconsider my job opportunities,” she admitted with a low laugh.
“The sunset? That’s a new one.” Chance lifted her hand to drop a soft kiss on the back of it. “I’m doing something wrong if staring at the sunset with me makes you think about your career.”
He wasn’t doing anything wrong. The ease they shared was what made it possible for Anda to open up to him about her concerns. “Not just the sunset. The soft air, the quiet, the openness.” Anda turned sideways to look at Chance. “I haven’t gone into the details, but one of my interviews was for a huge department store chain based on the East Coast.”
One thick, dark eyebrow shot up. “Sounds like the big time.”
“It would be. Big time, big money, big chance for advancement.”
“But?”
It hadn’t felt safe to admit this to anyone else. Yet somehow Anda knew that it was safe to open up to Chance. “But it would mean leaving the West, my home behind.”
“I’ll bet you’d find things to love about the East Coast. Snow comes to mind...”
“Yes. Snow would be awesome.”
“But?” he prompted again. Chance wrapped his arm around her waist, as if he could tell that she needed physical support to spill her feelings.
God, he made it so easy!
Anda leaned her head against his shoulder. “But I like driving to the ocean on a whim. I like surprise weather like this in winter when you get sunshine and warmth for just enough days to tide you over through the next batch of fog and clammy cold. I like the sharp jut of the mountains always guiding me when I get on the freeway. The wide sprawl and open spaces. All the interesting neighborhoods and the melting pot of it all. Being close to everyone I’ve ever known. I love where I live.”
Whoops. Guess her need to vent had meant blurting out every single word pent up in her brain.
At once.
How embarrassing.
But Chance didn’t seem annoyed at her babbling. He dropped a reassuring kiss on the top of her head. “There’s nothing wrong with that. In fact, it’s probably recommended.”
“It feels... shallow to want to stay put.” Like picking a football team for the color of their jersey. Or watching a really crappy TV show to ogle the hot actor who somehow manages to get shirtless every episode.
Not that Anda did that. Not anymore, at least.
“You think it’s shallow to love your state? To love everything you know that makes up your world? Sweetness, that’s not shallow.”
Although it was gratifying to have Chance reassure her that she wasn’t being an idiot about her career, Anda wasn’t convinced.
“Are you sure? Maybe it’s that I’m not driven enough?”
Deep laughter rumbled through his chest. “You told me that you worked at your parents’ boutique in high school and all through college. Not to mention your seventy—hour workweeks after that. You’re not lacking drive, Anda.”
“But shouldn’t I be more committed to my profession? I’m holding my career hostage with where I want to live.” She wrapped her right arm around his waist, hooking her fingers into the waist of his pants. Leaning against his strength was such a luxury. “I’ve been scared to admit this to anyone.”
“Being grateful for what you have? Truly appreciating it? People travel all over the world, take classes and read stacks of books to try and capture a piece of what you’ve got. Life is about more than your career.”
Huh. Chance had found an out for her. In less than five minutes, he’d managed to shift her attitude to something much healthier. “You’re saying it is very Zen of me?”
“To not be tempted by a wad of cash?” He laughed again. “Hell, yeah.”
Anda pulled out of his embrace to roll her eyes and wrinkle her nose. “Oh, I’m tempted. Don’t get me wrong.”
Chance made a face back at her. “Me, too. That’s why I stuck with the stunt coordinator idea. Starting a defense school would be risky—and damned expensive.”
Money could be considered as the bottom line when it came to decision-making. Anda wasn’t entirely certain if she wanted to be “that person,”’ though. Motivated by dollars more than dreams...
“If they do offer it to me, giving up this job would mean giving up a goodly chunk of financial security. Some might call that shortsighted. Foolish.”
“If it was your only option, maybe. What’s the other job, Sweets?”
She worried at her bottom lip with her teeth before answering. “A very small chain of boutiques between San Diego and Santa Barbara. The owner is about two years away from retiring. She doesn’t want to sell away her life’s work. Her family isn’t interested in taking over. Elaine wants a manager who shares her vision.”
“Do you?”
“I think so. The emphasis is more on personal service. Building and maintaining a long-term relationship with the customer rather than just churning through stock.” Anda and Elaine had clicked from their first moment together. And their taste ran along the same lines, too.
“You’d be great at that. You care so much. Let me guess—it pays less.” Chance rubbed his first two fingers and thumb together.
“Indeed. By quite a bit, for now at least. But I’d be home.”
Shifting his hands up and down like two sides of a scale, Chance said, “I don’t want you to struggle with the decision. On the other hand, I really want you to get both offers so that you feel your worth.”
“Thank you. I want the opportunity to drive myself nuts with pro and con lists, too.”
He tapped a finger right at the deep vee of her cream top. “Or you could listen to your heart. Sure sounds like that part of you has already decided.”
The trouble with that? The last time Anda had listened to her heart was in Colorado. When she decided to trust Chance, trust her burgeoning feelings and his and go to bed with him.
Her heart had steered her so very, very wrong. How could she trust it again?
Chance moved behind Anda. He spread his legs wide to cage her in against the fence. “This is nice.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
He brushed his thumbs where her sensitive skin curved from shoulder to neck. “Tonight was great.”
“Yes.” Easy to agree when it was true. That was the problem. Everything seemed great. Beyond great. Anda’s knuckles whitened as she gripped the bars to keep from rubbing backward against Chance.
His warm breath stirred the hair right above her ear. “Every time we’re together, it’s better than the last.”
Ouch. That was...mostly true. For this trip. It reminded Anda, though, of their last time together in Colorado. The time she’d truly believed to be their last ever. Because he kicked her off the show.
Just like that, something snapped inside of her.
Everything had been going great here in Vegas. Chance was still the wonderful man she’d fallen for six months ago. They still clicked as easily as a key sliding into a well-oiled lock. If anything, he tried a little bit harder, was a little bit more solicitous of her.
For him to revel in how great things were between them? That didn’t work for her. Not anymore. Not with the giant elephant in between them of why he’d dumped her if things were so blissful.
Anda’s priorities shifted. Hurting him, embarrassing him, playing the tit for tat game no longer mattered. Enjoying fleeting moments with him was no longer enough.
She had to know.
They were all alone. The thick darkness, broken only by the pool and cabana lights, gave an illusion of even greater privacy. And if Chance wouldn’t tell her? If he wouldn’t show her the respect of basic honesty?
Then she’d walk away. Right now.
Forever.
She ducked out from beneath his arm, tripping over his foot. Anda steadied herself with one hand on the gate. Chance’s profile was split in two—the side facing the desert utterly shadowed and unreadable, and the side by the hotel still showing his warm smile and crinkles around those bright blue eyes.
Which side was the real Chance? Which side was a true representation of his feelings for her?
Anda took a deep breath. Then she let it out in a fast whoosh before she changed her mind. “Why did you dump me?”
“Huh?”
Oh, it was going to be like that, was it? Him playing dumb to get another night’s worth of kisses out of her?
No. She was getting the truth out of him tonight if she had to claw it out of his chest with her fingernails.
“I’m not going anywhere until you level with me, Chance. All I want is the truth. No matter how much it hurts, it can’t be worse than not knowing. Tell me. Please.”
“Not knowing what? I haven’t dumped you. We’re smack in the middle of a date, for God’s sake.”
“Not tonight. Colorado. On Man of Her Dreams.”
Chance stared at her, frozen.
Fine. Anda could throw the last vestiges of her pride to the wind. She’d spell out the depths of her humiliation if it meant getting the answer she needed from him. “Why did you kick me off of the show? Did you ever have feelings for me? Or was it all for ratings? Or worse yet, a bonus from the producers if you got me into bed?”
“I didn’t...I wouldn’t...fuck.” The word tore out of his mouth so sharply Anda was surprised not to see blood dripping from his lip.
“Don’t lie. There aren’t any cameras here to perform for. Not feeling it – that’s forgivable. But going back on your word to not sleep with me if you planned to cut me? That’s lower than low. And definitely unforgiveable.”
Chance grabbed her hands, almost crushing them in his grip. “I didn’t. I swear it. I kept my promise, Anda.”
And then the lights went out.
All of them.
The pool, the cabanas, every glowing window and doorway of the sprawling hotel. Even the ever-present orangish haze from the Strip disappeared.
The darkness was absolute. Thick and heavy and scary.
As was the silence.
“What’s going on?” Anda said in a voice that was embarrassingly quivery. Because this...whatever this was...was not normal.
“I don’t know.”
Suddenly their fight didn’t matter. She was frightened. Right or wrong, smart or self-sabotagingly dumb, Chance made her feel safe. Anda shot her arm out to grab Chance’s hand. “I don’t like it.”
“Right there with you. It’s creepy. You didn’t feel an earthquake, did you?”
“No.”
Chance pulled out his phone. But it didn’t turn on.
Neither did Anda’s.
“Do you think it’s a terrorist attack?” In Vegas? Almost laughable. Unless it was a political statement against rampant capitalism...
“To only turn off the electricity? That’s annoying, but not the most aggressive move.” He led her carefully down the length of the pool, keeping one hand outstretched against the cabanas so they didn’t veer towards the pool. “Aliens, now. That’s a possibility.”
To her surprise, Anda giggled. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“Hey, if we can laugh, then the world’s not ending. And aliens wouldn’t just turn out the lights. They’d obviously activate their sleeper cells of secretly one-eyed tentacle soldiers first.”
“Oh, I feel much better now.”
They reached the gate at the other end. It didn’t open when Chance waved his keycard in front of it. “This is a smart hotel. Latest technology in every system...which means every system requires power. I’ll bet all the guests and staff inside are being corralled into a ballroom to keep everyone calm and safe in a central location.”
Anda eyed the “decorative” wrought iron spikes that topped each fence post. “I don’t want to try climbing that.”
“We shouldn’t risk it.”
Ha! Anda never thought Chance would back down from a physical risk. And if he got to try and make her laugh with his alien invasion, then she could pretend things were normal by teasing him.
“Is this when I get to make fun of the legendary stuntman not being willing to climb a ten foot tall fence?”
He walked them back to the first cabana. “Anda, I wouldn’t let you risk hurting yourself. I’m going to keep you safe tonight. Whatever happens.”
She believed him. With her whole heart. “Thank you.”
Chance patted the edge of the wooden slats that formed the cabana walls on three sides. “No phones, no TV, no radio....what should we do?” Snapping his fingers, he said, “How about we finish that conversation you started?”
Without the ability to walk away if things got too uncomfortable?
That was even scarier than this blackout...