Chapter Three

It took Chase two cold showers to bring his body’s temperature back to normal. The combination of the Cancun sun and seeing Rio again had nearly given him a heatstroke.

The first shower washed off the sand and cooled his skin, but when he couldn’t get the image of her perfectly curved ass out of his mind, he jumped back in and pumped his dick into a soapy washcloth until he found release.

She just looked so damn good.

Of course, Rio had always been beautiful. When they’d met at John and Cassandra’s rehearsal dinner two years ago, Chase had instantly been attracted to her, as had every other man in the room. Well, except for John, of course. His friend had thought of Rio as a little sister and was fiercely protective of her. But even he couldn’t stop the parade of men from stalking her that night and so he’d asked Chase, his best man, to stick close to her. When Chase told Rio that he had been sent by her future-brother-in-law, he expected her to be insulted. Instead, she shrugged and motioned for him to sit next to her during the dinner. They talked, mostly about John and Cassandra, and he began to enjoy his assignment.

It wasn’t until halfway through his filet mignon that he realized he was sitting next to a celebrity.

He finally asked, after the third request for an autograph, what she was famous for. She smiled at him, coy at first. Then the smile turned genuine and proud, and she simply answered, “Dancing.”

And although she’d smiled at him today, it wasn’t the same smile she’d given him back then. It was forced, fake even. Just like all the other phony ones she’d showed him over the past two years whenever they’d run in to each other at parties or dinners at John and Cassandra’s house.

He deserved them all.

Chase shook the thoughts of Rio from his head and decided to take a quick nap before dinner. He hated to admit it, but John had been right. He was exhausted. It was as if the moment he walked into the resort, his body had let go of all of the stress and worry he’d been carrying the past few months. Now, all it wanted to do was sleep. So he closed his eyes and gave in to what his body needed, and tried not to think of what—or who—his body desired.

It was almost nine when he finally awoke. After brushing his teeth and admiring the new healthy color in his cheeks, he left the villa in search of food. He jumped in the golf cart he’d been given to use during his stay and drove up the asphalt pathway toward the resort’s main buildings.

He drove past what he assumed was Rio’s villa and noticed the lights were on inside and a golf cart was sitting in front. She probably already had dinner, he thought. That meant there’d be no chance of running into her at any of the resort’s restaurants. It both relieved and disappointed him. Chase pressed on the gas and sped the golf cart toward his destination.

After driving around for a few minutes and realizing that most of the restaurants were going to be closing soon, he remembered the resort’s concierge said a bar on the premises was open until two in the morning and it also served food. He was about to look for it on the map when the sound of music thumping in the night caught his attention. He drove toward the beat and quickly arrived at the Isla Bonita Bar & Grill.

The bar was crowded and loud. Too loud. Chase debated on whether to head over to the island’s mini-mart for a dinner of chips and candy bars instead. But when a waitress walked by carrying a plate with a sizzling steak and giant baked potato on it, he decided he could sit through the noise after all.

He took a seat at one of the only open tables near the dance floor. A fast Latin dance song blared from a nearby speaker as men in colorful camp shirts gyrated against women in tight, short dresses. “The food better be worth this,” he said as he looked over the menu.

The waitress appeared and took his order then eventually reappeared with his whiskey on the rocks. Chase didn’t do fruity cocktail drinks with little umbrellas—even on vacation. The stiff drink warmed him instantly and by the time his steak arrived, he was tapping his foot under the table in sync with the music. He devoured it right along with the baked potato and ordered a second drink as his dessert.

By now, the dance floor was packed. The crowd had formed a circle and different couples took turns showing off their dance moves in the middle of it. But when a new song came on, something happened that made even the people sitting down get up from the chairs and make their way to the dance floor. Whistles and shouts erupted along with a thunder of applause and he strained his neck to see what was happening inside the circle.

When he couldn’t see, he asked his waitress when she came to clear his plate. “What’s going on over there?”

She shrugged in obvious boredom. “Oh, they’re just watching that dancer who used to be on that TV show, you know the one where celebrities are paired up with professionals. She always gets an audience when she dances here.”

Chase nodded, because he finally understood. They were all watching Rio.

He downed his drink, threw a few bucks on the table and made his way to the circle. He told himself he’d just take a quick peek on his way out the door.

But the more he caught flashes of her tiny red dress, the more he wanted. So he nudged his way past shoulders and elbows until all of Rio came into his full view.

The red off-the-shoulder dressed hugged her body as it swayed slow and sensual in front of her partner—a teasing dance of seduction that kept all eyes on her and only her. And judging by her confident expression, Rio not only knew it, she loved it. Her lips matched the shade of her dress and she wore her hair up in a twisted bun. Her partner held her by one hand, sometimes helping her spin on expertly timed steps. Chase watched as her bronzed, toned legs worked their way around the dance floor, becoming more and more entranced with every roll of her hips. After another sharply executed turn, their eyes met and he noticed the slight stiffening of her body. Ever the professional, she got right back into the routine and continued on with the steps. But every time, she’d slink against her partner or wrap her arms around his waist, she’d look at Chase. And he felt it.

Irrational envy raged inside him at the man she was basically using as a prop to hang her body from. When she caressed the side of his head or buried her face in his shoulder, Chase tensed.

Memories of the time she’d touched him like that came flooding back, making his cock strain against his pants.

The song ended and the bar erupted into more cheers and applause. It rattled him back to the present. People surged toward her and her partner, and he used the chaos as an opportunity to escape through a side door. He made it to his golf cart and was about to get inside when he heard her.

“Did you enjoy the show?”

The sight of her nearly undid him: face flushed, breasts heaving and hands planted firmly on those magical hips of hers. It took everything he had not to remember how hard he’d held onto those hips when he drove into her over and over again on the night of the rehearsal dinner.

“I did,” he managed to answer after a few seconds. “Seems like everyone else did too.”

She walked up to him and stood so close that he could smell her fruit-scented shampoo and a hint of alcohol. Rio reached out and touched the vee of his v-neck T-shirt, then slid a finger down his chest, stopping just above his belly button. His cock instantly came alive again and his abs tightened in response. It had been two long years since she touched him there.

“This is a good look for you. You seem relaxed. Not so uptight,” she said with a laugh.

Chase’s head spun. Was she flirting with him? Perhaps she’d had more to drink than he first thought. “Thank you, I think?”

“Look, I came out here to tell you that I want us to call a truce.”

“A truce?”

“Yes, we’re both here to enjoy ourselves and we’re not going to be able to do that if we’re both worried about running into each other and being all awkward about it. So I’m willing to make the best out of this situation. What do you say?”

And for the first time in a long time, Chase allowed himself to remember this Rio. The one whose amber eyes lit up when she was excited about something and the one who made him feel like he didn’t have a care in the world.

If she was willing to put aside their shared past for one week in paradise, then he’d gladly do it. It was a logical solution to the situation, wasn’t it?

He held out his hand. “I say let the truce begin.”

Hesitation crossed her face for just a split second before she took his hand to shake it. She barely grasped it before letting go. Their contact was brief, but the warmth and softness of her small hand inside his was enough to stir up all kinds of longing.

If she felt it too, she didn’t let on. Instead, she told him goodnight and walked back inside the bar.

Chase stood there for awhile thinking of what had just happened. He’d gotten so used to being on guard around her that he wasn’t sure if he knew how to be any other way.

Well, any way that didn’t involve them being naked and fucking in a hotel room.

Because that wasn’t going to happen here, he told himself as he drove back to his villa.

He remembered the way she’d danced in front of the crowd that night. Rio was a performer, trained in the art of pretending. This truce would be nothing more than another dance of hers to take control of the circumstances that had thrown them back together. Chase couldn’t allow himself to think of it as anything but that.

He’d gotten lost in Rio’s world before and it had cost him millions of dollars.

Stop over-analyzing things. That’s what probably landed you in the hospital in the first place.

Chase forced himself to stop dwelling on what happened before and concentrate on getting through the next six days. If Rio wanted a truce and could put their past behind them, then so could he.

Maybe this vacation didn’t have to be the worst thing in the world after all.