Compromising Her Position (Compromise Me 1)

“So you say, but I wouldn’t be your best friend if I didn’t point out one thing right now.”

“What’s that?”

“You don’t sound perfectly happy.”

Feb. 13

11:25 a.m.

Chelsea,

One of the registration girls told a new guest to stop by the pool for a lei. He misunderstood, and…well…I took the liberty of ordering a sign to remind guests we require swimsuits in the pool area at all times. Enjoy L.A. Everything here is under control.

Lynette

“Is there something wrong with your drink, Miss Wayne?”

The flight attendant’s question pulled Chelsea’s attention away from the article she scrolled through on her phone. She held her coffee cup halfway to her lips. How long had she been sitting like that? Long enough to attract the flight attendant’s attention. Bringing the cup the rest of the way to her lips, she deliberately took a sip. “It’s fine. Thank you.”

The woman smiled and resumed her duties. Chelsea put her cup down on her tray table with extra care, given her hand shook, and dropped her eyes to the tiny screen again. She couldn’t seem to look away. The picture was like her own personal train wreck.

The Montenido Times article covering the grand opening of St. Sebastian’s Las Ventanas resort included half a dozen photos, but her attention homed in on the shot of Rafe planting a kiss on the flawless cheek of a tall, slender, absolutely stunning woman. Yes, she’d zoomed in on the photo to drink in all the details. The dark-haired beauty faced the camera, her smile so wide, playful, and full of affection Chelsea could practically hear the woman’s laughter through the page.

Their bodies fit together as if they’d embraced a thousand times. Rafe’s profile showed his eye crinkled at the corner, the way it did when he smiled for real. Everything about the picture suggested intimacy. Two gorgeous people having the time of their lives. Enjoying fun, attra

ction, and…

Did you expect he’d go alone?

I didn’t expect him to look so freaking happy with someone else in his arms.

You didn’t expect to care.

I don’t care…but who is she?

She hit the button and retreated to her icon screen. A name hardly mattered. Knowing wouldn’t erase the hurt, the bone-deep sense of betrayal.

Her inner cynic insisted she should have seen it coming, her romantic track record being what it was. The only difference this time? She didn’t have the right to feel hurt, or betrayed. Rafe was free to see other people. She’d asked for no promises and he’d made her none. But deep down, she’d wanted to believe he was hers alone—at least until the deal closed. And deeper down, in the steep, slippery part of her heart she’d steadfastly avoided visiting, she’d hoped for even more. One picture shattered the fragile and ridiculously inappropriate hope, but the fragments left her bleeding.

She’d paid lip service to keeping her emotions under control, and keeping things casual, but she’d deluded herself. She could travel thousands of miles to get a fresh start, but she couldn’t outrun the truth. She’d fallen for him—the one thing she’d sworn she wouldn’t do. Worse, her desperate heart already hatched a new plan. What if she passed on Tahiti and stayed on at the Maui resort? Maybe they’d still see each other from time to time? If she gave them a chance, he might decide he wanted more. He might—

Stop. You’re pathetic.

God, she was. She closed her eyes and rested her pounding head against the seatback. What was wrong with her?

The answer still eluded her when she deplaned in Los Angeles. She wheeled her carry-on bag through the terminal, lost in a fog of misery until a tall, dark-suited driver put himself directly in front of her.

“Miss Wayne?”

“Yes?” Now she saw his white rectangular sign bearing her name.

“Hello. I’m Daryl. Mr. St. Sebastian sent me to collect you. He’d like you to join him for dinner.”

Hell, no. She couldn’t see Rafe now. Not with her heart crushed like a grape under his careless heel. Tomorrow, for the meeting at Las Ventanas, she’d pull herself together because she had a job to do, but not tonight. Thankfully the Templetons were taking her to dinner. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I have other plans.”

The man smiled, his white teeth flashing against ebony skin. “I believe if you check your emails, you’ll find your calendar has cleared.”

She dug her phone out of her oversize handbag, turned it on and scrolled through her emails. Sure enough, she spotted one from Evelyn.