[Invitation to Eden 24.0] How to Tempt a Tycoon (27 page)

“But,” I raise my finger to make a point, “I’m letting you go. Bye, bye.” My fingers make little wiggling movements, like they’re butterflies flitting away. “Fly away. Be free.”

You too, Tessa. Be happy, okay?

“I already am.”

The feeling starts behind my breastbone, a sort of nugget of heat, warming me up, thawing parts of me that I didn’t even know were cold. The heat emanates in all directions, down into my belly, shooting soothing warmth into my pelvis and legs, down to my toes.  Warmth seeps up through my chest, shoulders and arms, radiating right to my fingertips. Finally I feel my face soften. The furrow between my brows disappears, my lips relax and the expression in my eyes finally becomes identifiable.

For the first time since the man came into my life, when I think his name the only emotions I feel are peace and gratitude. I have so much to thank him for. Our relationship helped to shape me into the woman I am today. How can I possibly regret that? Even the mistakes, the cheating, the pain, it all happened for a reason, so I could figure myself out so I could become the person I am today.

Chase Walker was not a mistake. He is probably the most important man to ever come into my life and I love him so completely I am able to let him go.

Finally.

As I observe my reaction to these thoughts, I watch my eyes fill with tears. These are not the hot heavy kind that burn the cheeks. These are the sweet, cleansing kind. Tears of relief. Tears of understanding.

After a few deep breaths, I splash my face with cold water, reapply my makeup and pack up my belongings. While wheeling my bags to the door, I pluck an apple from the fruit basket on the foyer table and drop it in my carryon, and go to sit on the step to wait for Andre. Sitting and breathing and taking in the surroundings. Just being in my skin, in the present. It’s lovely.

Andre appears ten minutes later, looking pale and solemn.

“Is everything all right?” I ask.

He takes my bags without answering and loads them onto the cart. Once we’re in the cart he says, “There was an accident. One of our guests was injured while diving.”

“Oh no.”

“I hope you don’t mind sharing the plane with him and the paramedics.”

“Of course not.”

The cart travels more quickly on the return trip to the dock and we ride in silence. During the ride, I take everything in, still wondering how this island accomplished the miracle of time travel. It looks so normal, like any other exclusive tropical resort. But the
feeling
here is anything but normal and I can’t seem to keep my eyes off the castle and the way the white stone shimmers in the heat like a mirage.

Is that what this all has been? A mirage?

Was Chase even here, or was he a figment of my imagination? Did I send Chase the invitation or was it some machination of this mysterious island?

I honestly don’t know.

I guess it doesn’t really matter.

The plane and the pilot are waiting at the end of the dock. Andre drops me off and helps to load my bags into the hold. “All the best to you, Ms. Savage,” he says right before I climb aboard.

While I’m waiting, I reach in my bag for the apple. Something vibrates from inside. I take the apple out and hold it between my teeth while I fish out my phone. There’s a call coming through and I press answer, ecstatic because this is the first time my phone has worked since arriving.

Removing the apple from my mouth, I say, “Hey Wade. God, it’s good to hear from you.”

“Tessa Savage. Have you been avoiding us?”

“No. Why?” I take a big bite of the apple and chew.

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for a week.”

“A week?” I pull the phone from my ear to check the date. I’ve been in Eden for a week? That’s impossible. But the date on my phone confirms the fact. “Oh my God,” I whisper.

“Are you okay?”

“No.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“C’mon, Tess.”

“It’s been a weird week.”

“Where are you?”

“Have you heard of Eden?”

“As in...paradise? Adam and Eve?”

I take another bite of my apple. “No. The island resort.”

“Never heard of it. Why?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“What happened, Tess?”

“I think I was...” I don’t know how to end the sentence. I don’t know how to describe what happened to me here, even if I am speaking to my best friend. I can still smell Chase. I still feel the ghost of his hands on me, the phantom pain of my lost virginity. How does a person explain what happened, the emotions and realizations, the wisdom that comes from having an opportunity to relive the past? 

“I think I was kicked out,” I joke, trying to make light of an experience that will take me a lifetime to wrap my head around.

“That’s funny,” Wade says.

Out the window I see a crowd of people making their way down the length of the dock. There’s a gurney at the center of the group.

“Hey, I’ve got to go. Can I call you when I land?”

“Of course. But, you got the invitation, right?”

“No,” I say, not bothering to explain how I’d thought the invitation to Eden was from him and Connor.

“We sent out a couple because we’re never sure where to reach you. Anyway, we’ve changed the date...”

The group of doctors and paramedics are right outside the door to the plane and I can hardly hear Wade through the noise from the harried activity.

“Can you make it?”

“Yes,” I say, not sure exactly what I’m agreeing to or when, but with the knowledge I’ll make it happen. “Of course I’ll be there. Call you when I land, okay?”

There’s a crackling on the phone, then Wade’s distant goodbye. I drop the phone in my bag and watch the action. Seats are lowered to make room for the gurney. With combined effort the patient is hoisted aboard and tension straps are used to secure the gurney to the floor of the plane.

Three paramedics climb aboard and after handing out headsets, Joely the pilot, fires up the plane and we’re set to take off. The paramedics sit and buckle up and before we know it, the plane is skimming across the surface of the water and then soaring up into the air.

I can hear the paramedics discuss the patient through the earphones on the headsets.

“Oxygen flow adjusted.”

“How’s the blood pressure.”

“Low.”

“Pulse is slow. Steady.”

“No signs of cerebral swelling.”

“Pupils responding.”

“That’s a good sign. Indication of consciousness?”

“Give me a headset. I’ll try talking to him.” A headset is passed from the front of the plane and then I hear, “Mr. Chevalier? Can you hear me? You’ve had an accident.  Mr. Chevalier?”

Oh my God, Christophe?

I unbuckle my belt and squeeze between the gurney and the paramedics so that I can stand at his side. The man is barely recognizable beneath the oxygen mask. His startling blue eyes are closed, his expression slack, his hair extra dark against his pale skin.

“Do you know him?”

“Yes.” I touch his flesh, expecting it to be cold. It’s not. It’s warm. He’s alive. Thank God.

I turn to the paramedics, “What happened? Is he going to be okay?”

“He was trapped in an underwater wreck. They found him without oxygen.”

“Shit.”

The woman nearest me nods solemnly. “It’s a miracle he’s alive. The fact he’s starting to respond to stimuli is a good sign.”

“Good,” I say even though I hear the,
but
...in her voice. How long can a person survive without oxygen to the brain? I don’t want to know the answer.

Fumbling beneath the thin sheet tucked around him, I find Christophe’s hand. It’s limp—so incongruous to the Christophe I know—and I rub it between mine. “Hey,” I say, squeezing. “Christophe? Can you hear me?”

I wait even though I don’t expect his eyes to open.

He’s not going to make it
, a quiet voice whispers between my ears.
He was supposed to die
.

“He is not going to die,” I reply firmly.

Squeezing harder, I lean down, as if to whisper in Christophe’s ear. We’re both wearing headsets and anything I say is going to be heard by everyone in the plane but I don’t care. “Come on, you arrogant, jerk. You need to wake up so you can teach me some of that Tantra shit you’re always going on about.”

There’s no response and I shut my eyes, saying a silent prayer to someone or something, I don’t even know who or what. But after my experience on Eden, I’m curiously more open to that idea of
someone or something
.

When I open my eyes, I say, “Listen to me. Get better and I promise I’ll give whatever it is you’re selling a try. Okay? Can you hear me?”

One of the paramedics taps on my shoulder. “Miss, we need to monitor his vitals. Please return to your seat.”

“No.” I shake my head. I’m not budging. I don’t know why, but there’s something that tells me this is my fault. Well, maybe not my fault, but I feel like I could have done something about this, like if I’d done something differently none of this would have happened. I glance up into the paramedic’s stern face. “I’m not leaving.”

“Do you know who this is? He’s an important man. His life is in our hands.”

The other paramedic shakes her head at the one looming over me but that doesn’t seem to help. We glare at one another, neither giving in.

Until...I feel something against my hand.

“He squeezed my hand.” I twist back to Christophe. “Christophe?” I squeeze back. “Hey, can you hear me?”

It wasn’t my imagination. The squeeze is there again. I turn to the paramedics, a big grin on my face. “Twice. He squeezed twice.”

This time I let them push me away. I let them tend to Christophe, doing all the paramedic-y things they do every day, saving lives for a living. There’s a flurry around him again, but it’s much less frantic and a sense of relief pervades the whole cabin.

About ten minutes later, the third paramedic looks my way, beckoning me over. I move awkwardly back to Christophe’s side and am filled with the most amazing sense of relief when I see his gorgeous eyes are open. Not just open, they are aware. One of the paramedics removes the oxygen mask and adjusts the mic on the headset so he can speak.

“Tessa Savage,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically soft and hoarse. “I was wondering if I’d ever see you again.”

“I am right here,” I say, somewhere between laughing and crying.

“So you are.” He smiles in return. “Now, about that promise...”

Oh my God. He heard me! I’m so relieved and ecstatic that he’s alive and talking and being his typical Christophe self, I react by throwing my head back and laughing. It feels so good. Amazing.

I wipe the happy tears from my cheeks and look down at him. “I wasn’t kidding,” I say, meaning it.

It’s the truth. Something happened to me on the island. I can’t really put my finger on it, but the island healed me. It took all the tender wounds of my past and it made me see them in a new light. It made me see myself in a new light. For the last ten years, I’ve really enjoyed my life, but...there’s always been a part of me that’s wondered if I’m making a huge mistake. If I’m a fraud. If I’m running away from permanency because it terrifies me.

Now I know the truth. This is who I am. This person, sitting right here in this ridiculously small plane, holding the hand of a billionaire playboy who just came back from the land of the dead,
this
is Tessa Savage. I am made to love deeply and love often and I am who I am because of all of the experiences I’ve had, from growing up without a family, moving from foster home to foster home, to seducing my foster brother and falling in love with him.

Chase Walker helped me realize who I am, the person I could be. He’s the first man I ever truly loved...the first love that I left of my own choosing, not because the state forced me to go and not because I stopped loving him. I left him because I loved him so deeply I realized it was something I wanted to experience over and over again. Is it to make up for the life of missing out on love? Who the fuck knows. It doesn’t matter.

It is my duty and my right to go out and love some more. My life is a gift and by denying my true nature, I am squandering that gift. Life is meant to be lived, and love is meant to be given freely.

As much as the island drove me batshit crazy, it has taught me some valuable lessons. I’ve always tried to be accepting of others, but perhaps the last person I truly accepted was myself. I think Chase helped me realize that and see myself more clearly and I can tell you, there is nothing more liberating than accepting and loving yourself for who you are.

No apologies.

So, here I am, Tessa Savage, ready for a new adventure, ready to go and love some more. I squeeze Christophe’s hand and kiss him gently on the forehead. A promise of things to come.

God, I love my life.

~The End~

To choose a different ending,
click here.

Thanks for reading
HOW TO TEMPT A TYCOON
, I hope you enjoyed it!

If you’d like Tessa to have a happily ever after with one of the heroes in this book, go to my website and vote in the poll
here
!

Find out more about Daire at
www.dairestdenis.com

Subscribe to Daire’s List to find out about
NEW RELEASES, FREE BOOKS AND MORE!

Follow her on twitter at
http://twitter.com/DaireStDenis

Like her on Facebook at
http://www.facebook.com/dairestdenis

Check out other exciting titles by Daire St. Denis...

How to Choose a Cowboy – A Savage Interactive

How to Break a Cowboy – A Savage Tale

How to Train a Lover – A Savage Interactive

How to Debauch a Biker – A Savage Tale

How to Free a Biker – A Savage Tale ~ coming in 2015

How to Marry a Cowboy – A Savage Interactive ~ coming in 2015

Mustang Sassy

Sex, Spies and Photographs – A Wicked Way Interactive

Reckless for Cowboy – Stampede Sizzlers

Party of Three