Prize of a Lifetime

“Atlanta. I’ve been thinking of relocating to Savannah. I’ve been here about a month looking at places.”

“It’s a big change from the ATL,” she teased.

He chuckled and the sound shimmied down her spine. She squeezed her knees together.

“That it is. But I like the slower pace.” He paused for a moment. “Tell you what, how about I show you around Antigua, and if we’re still speaking to each other, maybe you can show me around Savannah when we get back.”

Sasha’s mind came to a screeching halt. Were her ears playing tricks on her? Did he actually just tell her he wanted to spend time with her on a Caribbean island?

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he said when he got only a stunned look in lieu of a response. “That was out of line. You don’t know me from the man in the moon.” He suddenly stood up. “I’m going to go grab something to eat. Nice talking to you. Enjoy your trip.”

By the time her mind caught up with what was happening, Mitchell Davenport was three aisles away heading for the food court. She wanted to kick herself and could almost hear April’s cries of disbelief ring in her ears. She felt like a complete fool and wished she could disappear. Thankfully, a young couple and their little boy took up the vacant seats next to her. Now she wouldn’t have to worry about him coming back to pick up where they’d awkwardly left off. She buried her face in her book. Great start to my journey, she silently chided herself and hoped it wasn’t an indication of things to come.

Mitchell inched up on the line at Starbucks. That went well, he groused to himself, a testament to how his relationship life was going lately. What had he been thinking? That’s just it, he hadn’t been. He’d spotted Sasha Carrington the instant she’d materialized in the waiting area, and his good sense and his promise to himself to stay away from women flew out the window. She was gorgeous in an understated way, with a body to die for. She gave off an air of quiet assurance and was apparently unaware of her sensual appeal. He could still smell her soft, alluring scent and hear the way her voice stroked him from the inside out. It was completely out of character for him to trip over himself with a woman he didn’t know. But her rebuff had been a solid kick to his ego. It had reinforced his vow to remain focused on what was important: rebuilding his life and his business. Everything else could take a backseat. His ugly and painful breakup with Regina had taught him a major lesson: women don’t want a man who is down on his luck, who can’t provide for them in the fashion to which they’ve grown accustomed. He’d been devastated when Regina had told him that it was over at a time when he needed her love and support more than anything. He’d lost his restaurant and the bank had foreclosed on his home. He was struggling every day just to hold his head up, and Regina had decided she couldn’t or wouldn’t deal with his “issues,” as she called them. His manhood was attached to his wallet. And at the moment it was running on empty. But that was going to change, he thought as he paid for his purchase. If Regina did nothing else in the three years that they were together, she had taught him an invaluable lesson—no woman would ever again be able to call his manhood into question.

Mitchell returned to the waiting area and spotted Sasha just as she glanced in his direction. He made a point of walking to the other side of the waiting area to find a seat.

Sasha flinched. The warm, inviting look that she’d seen earlier in his eyes was definitely gone. If it was possible to look through someone, that’s exactly what Mitchell just did. Fine, she thought. Although it may have been April’s agenda for her to find a man—even temporarily—it wasn’t hers. Her goal was to win this competition. Period. She settled back in her seat and concentrated on her book. At least she tried to.

Finally the flight was called and boarding began. To Sasha’s dismay, Mitchell was seated in the row across the aisle from her, both of them with aisle seats.

“Need some help with that?” came the voice from behind her as she struggled to get her carry-on into the overhead rack.

She schooled her expression and turned around. Her heart fluttered in her chest. He was so close that she could see the light flecks of brown in his eyes. “Y-yes. Please.”

He took her heavy bag and lifted it like a loaf of bread, pushing it securely into place.

“Thank you.”

“No problem,” he said without inflection. He took his seat and fastened his seatbelt, reached into the pocket in front of him and pulled out one of the in-flight magazines.

Sasha followed suit and settled into her seat. The words of her novel danced a jig on the page. She wanted to say something, apologize for acting like a deer in the headlights, but the words wouldn’t come.

The stewardess made the routine announcements in preparation for takeoff, and moments later they were in the air. Mitchell put on his headphones, adjusted his seat and closed his eyes. Whatever Sasha may have figured out to say by way of an apology was moot now.

Throughout the three-hour flight Sasha stole sidelong glances at Mitchell. For the most part he had completely tuned her out and the world around him, except for when the flight attendant came through the cabin with refreshments. He took off his headphones and for an instant actually looked at Sasha. She offered a small smile, which he didn’t acknowledge. His cold-water-in-the-face dismissal was an unwelcome jolt of reality. It was clear that whatever interest he might have had no longer existed. The flight became unbearably long.

When they disembarked in Puerto Rico to change planes and claim their luggage, Sasha and Mitchell took great pains to stay out of each other’s line of sight as they moved in and out of the crowd. To kill some time, Sasha took a quick stroll through the terminal to hunt for souvenirs. She found a cute T-shirt for April, glass salt-and-pepper shakers for her mother, a baseball cap for her dad and some beautiful hand towels for her sister.

With her stash in hand Sasha returned to the baggage claim area and looked for her bag on the conveyor belt. She felt Mitchell before she actually saw him. With a bit of reluctance she turned to her left, glanced, then looked away. She twisted the plastic bag in her hands and accidentally bumped him when she adjusted her oversize purse on her shoulder.

“Oh, sorry.” Her eyes danced everywhere but on his face.

“No problem.” He craned his neck over the row of passengers in front of him. “Our bags are probably in the corner over there.” He lifted his chin in the direction of a holding area for luggage. “One of the ground crew said the baggage handlers take the bags off and stash them on the side to make room for the next flight. So if you don’t see yours now, it’s probably over there.”

She frowned for an instant at the odd practice. But this wasn’t Georgia, she concluded. “Hmm, thanks for the tip. Guess I’d better take a look.” She started to move away and felt his eyes behind her. Her heart thudded and her body tingled even as she firmly instructed her hips to sway like the willows of Savannah.

Mitchell nearly collided with another passenger as he became mesmerized by the pendulum swing in front of him. He was still smarting from their last conversation, but for the life of him he couldn’t seem to shake Sasha Carrington from his thoughts. Throughout the first leg of the flight, he’d tried to concentrate on the motivational lectures he’d uploaded to his iPod and failed miserably. And, because his ego was bruised, he’d rebuffed her smile—an obvious peace offering—in favor of indifference, a persona that was far from who he really was. But since his breakup with Regina, he wasn’t the same man. He knew it. He felt it in the pit of his stomach. His confidence had been shaken. Although they’d parted ways months ago, the wounds were still felt fresh and his trust in women and relationships would take a long time to heal, if ever. With that bit of reality, he pushed thoughts of Regina, Sasha and women in general to the far corners of his mind.

When they landed at V. C. Bird International Airport in Antigua, Sasha was immediately swept up in a whirlwind of sights, lilting sounds and alluring scents. She, along with the other passengers, were guided through customs and into the waiting area to once again reclaim their luggage. She was amazed at the level of activity at what appeared to be the smallest airport she’d ever seen; customs, baggage claim and the eager drivers who waited outside the airport for would-be fares, were all mere steps from each other.

Amid the throng of moving bodies she’d periodically caught glimpses of Mitchell, but she made it a point not to let her gaze linger. This was probably the last time they would see each other anyway. Gathering her bags, she walked outside into the balmy air of the Caribbean, the heat tempered by the setting sun beyond the horizon. She took the travel information from her purse and looked over the information that had been provided in her letter of agreement. She was staying at the Jolly Beach Resort, and would be a guest there for the duration of her three-week stay, with the actual competition taking place offsite. She tucked the letter back in her purse and followed the crowd toward the waiting vehicles.

Her pulse quickened. Two people ahead of her was Mitchell. The woman who stood between them suddenly began waving at someone who Sasha couldn’t see, before darting off into the waiting arms of a man who wrapped her in a tight embrace before kissing her like a man drunk on desire and deprivation.

Sasha lowered her gaze, suddenly feeling like a voyeur as the intimate scene unfolded. The line inched forward and Sasha made a point of keeping an appropriate distance between her and Mitchell. The last thing she wanted to do was bump into him from behind.

A white van pulled up in front of them. Sasha breathed a sigh of relief. He’d get into the van and be on his way. The driver hopped out, dragged a limp handkerchief across his sweaty forehead and shouted, “Jolly Beach!”

Sasha and Mitchell moved in unison toward the waiting ride, bumping hips and luggage in the process. Mitchell looked over his shoulder. Sasha stopped in her tracks.

“Jolly Beach?” he asked. She nodded her response and was jostled by the couple behind her.

“Are you two getting in?” the man asked, his fat brown face glistening in the waning light.

“Room for all,” the driver called out. He snatched up Mitchell’s bag and loaded it into the back and did the same for Sasha before grabbing the couple’s luggage.

The older couple, spry for their age, hurried right past Sasha and Mitchell and secured the seats in the back. Mitchell stepped aside to let Sasha on, helping her up with a firm hand on her arm. A shiver ran up the line of her back and she almost tripped over her own feet. Real smooth, she thought, thankful for the dark interior of the van. She scooted across the worn upholstered seat and pinned herself against the window, praying for the driver to hurry and turn on the air conditioning.

Mitchell stooped low to get in and, after assessing the seating arrangements, took the only available seat, the one next to Sasha. He adjusted his solid body, inadvertently bumping his hip against hers. “Sorry,” he murmured then folded his arms across the tight expanse of his chest and stared ahead.

Sasha’s heart thumped. Sweat trickled down the valley of her breasts as she tried to gather herself into an invisible knot.

The driver hopped in on the right-hand side of the van, put it in gear and took off into the night. The van banged and bumped along the frighteningly narrow roads at death-defying speeds. Sasha’s heart hammered along with the banging and rattling, and she was sure that they were going to hurtle into a ditch, never to be seen again. She held on to the armrest for dear life. The one perk to the speed was that it stirred up gusts of air which cooled her body.

The only time the driver slowed was to allow two goats to cross the road. She could barely make out the landscape, but what she did see was not what was advertised in the brochures. Clapboard houses leaning left and right, stray dogs and cats, cows, sheep, and a ragtag complement of residents sitting on rickety steps or strolling along dirt roads.

The tug and pitch of the ride put Sasha and Mitchell in constant bodily contact, sending shock waves rippling up and down her thigh even as she pretended not to notice him or the way his leg felt against hers.

The van suddenly swerved around a double-parked car and Sasha tipped over into Mitchell’s lap. For a moment neither one moved or breathed. Alarm lit her eyes and the heat of embarrassment burned her cheeks when she looked up at him staring down at her. And then he smiled and it was sunlight rising over the horizon. She froze at the awesomeness of it.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” he teased, his warm voice taking the sting out of her awkward predicament. The van bumped again and she struggled to sit up. “I am so sorry,” she said, looking every place but at him.

“I’d rather have you fall in my lap than that one back there,” he said in a pseudo whisper with a flick of his head in the direction of the couple behind them.

Sasha giggled.

They were both silent for a moment until Mitchell said, “Hey, why don’t we start over? Mitchell Davenport.” He extended his hand.

Sasha hesitated but a second before placing her hand in his. “Sasha Carrington.” She smiled. “Nice to meet you, Mitchell.”

“Since it looks like we’ll be staying at the same resort, why don’t you call me Mitch? All my friends do.”

“Mitch…”

His dark eyes caught flecks of light as they glided over her. She drew in a breath and held it.

The van swerved again. This time Mitchell caught her. They laughed at the absurdity of what was to be their ordeal until they arrived at their destination.