James: A College Girl Romance (24 page)

“To another narrow escape, and to the beginning of the rest of our lives.”

I raised an eyebrow at his toast. Then he clinked my glass, and I shrugged and took a large swallow.

“By tomorrow this will all seem like a bad dream. Trust me.”

I smiled ruefully.

“I hope so. I’d like to have complete amnesia when it comes to your father. This is going to help,” I said as I held up my glass and took another swig.

James walked over to the bar and retrieved the bottle, filling my flute to the brim.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr. McDevitt?” I asked humorously.

James stared back at me, his dark eyes intense and unsmiling, and I shivered as I remembered asking him that exact same question the first night at his house … right before he had told me about his proposal, which had turned my life inside out.

“Absolutely.”

D
id I feel any guilt for what I was doing? Yes. Because contrary to popular belief, I did have some scruples—just not when compared to the average human being. I uncorked a second bottle of champagne and walked over to where Cass was reclined on the sectional. She looked up at me and laughed.

“You weren’t kidding. I’ll have you know that if I drink much more champagne, you’ll be holding my hair while I yark everywhere.”

“I have no problem with that.”

She gave me a reproving look.

“Sure, you say that now, McDevitt. We’ll see when my head’s hanging over the toilet bowl.”

“We’re celebrating victory,” I told her as I sat next to her on the sofa.

“We are?”

“Right now I have a recording that has the power to destroy my father sitting in a secure data center.”

Cass took another slow sip of champagne.

“In other words, you have him over a barrel. Wait—then why did we have to leave San Francisco?”

“Because it’s never a good idea to be close by when you threaten a very powerful, sadistic individual.”

Cass’s eyes widened.

“Okay. I’ll drink to that.”

I watched as she finished the flute of champagne, set it on the table, and clapped her hands together.

“So when are we hitting the tables?”

“You gamble?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

She laughed and then snorted, which made her start laughing even harder.

“Right! With what money? Gambling actually makes me sick to my stomach. Why would anyone want to take the chance of losing the money they worked hard to earn? It’s insane. Absolutely insane.”

“Not everyone works for their money. … Speaking of which, have you thought about what you’re going to do after you finish your last year of school?”

She slid down until her head was resting on the arm of the sofa, and I took the opportunity to pull her legs into my lap as I enjoyed the view of her body sprawled out.

“Well, this is going to sound really crazy, but if I have some money left over when I finish, I think I might—” She shook her head and laughed. “Never mind. It’s stupid.”

“Tell me.”

She sat up and poured more champagne.

“I’m going to write a movie script. Just to see if I can do it.” She burst out laughing. “
See
! It sounds completely lame when I say it out loud.”

“That doesn’t sound stupid at all.”

When she poured more champagne, I checked my watch.

“Do you want more?” she asked.

I shook my head. I hadn’t touched mine. Cass shrugged before chugging the flute of champagne and setting down the glass. She slid down until she was reclined on the sofa again.

“Why a script?” I asked curiously.

“Well, when I was a little kid, I thought I wanted to be an actor. You know, because they always seemed to be having so much fun in the movies, so I wanted to do that. Then I got older, and I realized what I
actually
liked about movies was the story. Plus, I would be an awful actor. Have you ever heard your voice on a recording?” She pinched her nose. “I sound absolutely awful. That, and I can’t act at all. What did you want to be when you were a little kid?”

“The usual. Fireman. Astronaut. Feckless dilettante.”

“
Ha
!”

She hiccupped and then began laughing hysterically. I couldn’t resist. I reached over and pinched above her knee until she shrieked.

“Oh … my … god! Stop! Stop! You’re going to make me piss myself!”

I moved over her, tickling her sides until she rolled off the sofa and lunged away from me. She kicked off her high heels and began weaving her way toward the bathroom around the corner. A few minutes later she reappeared.

“I think I’m—” She hiccupped and started laughing again. “I think I’m a little drunk.”

Her pupils were dilated, and she couldn’t walk straight—shit-faced was more like it.

“Then I think we should get going,” I said as I stood and walked over to her.

“Where to, Mr. McDevitt?”

“To the chapel, Ms. Flynn.”

“Okey dokey artichokey.” She gasped and looked around. “Where’d my shoes go?”

I smiled as I walked over to retrieve her heels. By the time I kneeled down in front of her, she was swaying on her feet.

“Rest your arm on my shoulder,” I instructed her.

She grabbed my shoulders and leaned heavily on me as I lifted her foot. She giggled.

“Does this make me Cinderella?”

I looked up at her as I took her other foot in my hand. I was certainly no Prince Charming, but I would be damned if Cassia Flynn didn’t get the fairy tale ending she deserved. I knew she would want to kill me in the morning, but I was going to take that chance without regret.

I stood and wrapped my arm around her to keep her from toppling over. As I guided her toward the elevator, she started humming
Going to the Chapel
by the Dixie Cups. Then she collapsed into peals of laughter. When she went completely boneless on me, I lifted her into my arms.

This would work.

Before reaching the hotel’s wedding chapel, I set Cass on her feet and steadied her.

“You should wear a tuxedo all the time, Mr. McDevitt. It looks very debon … debon … dashing on you.”

I kissed her forehead.

“Don’t hate me in the morning, Cass.”

She slapped at my chest and leaned into me.

“Never! I looooove you, man in the tuxedo.”

My chest tightened as I stared down at her. When I took out the silver case and opened it, Cass looked down—and started laughing hysterically again.

“Ooooh. Pretty.
That
is one big stone, Mr. McDevitt.”

I closed the box and placed it back in my pocket as she started humming again.

I
opened my eyes and tried to remember where I was. Then I groaned when my head started to spin. It was dark and there was a loud hum in the background, which could have been just the ringing in my ears. I turned my head just a fraction and felt like puking. I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for the urge to vomit to go away.

The next time I woke up, it was light. I sat up slowly and winced when my stomach pitched violently.

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

“You’ve already done that several times. I doubt you have anything left in your stomach.”

I blinked and my eyes focused on James, who was sitting on a couch across from me. I sat up, but as soon as I put my feet on the ground and stood, the room spun in several sickening circles. Then James was at my side steadying me. He helped me walk until we reached a bathroom.

“You can go away now,” I moaned as I dropped down in front of the toilet.

“Lovely, sad to say, but I’ve seen you
yark
, as you put it, many times in the past several hours.”

“Well, that’s just—”

I hung my head over the toilet as a violent dry heave hit me. After the spasms subsided, I lifted my head. My chest was sore from heaving.

“Holy fuck. I haven’t been this hung over since my twenty-first birthday.”

When James kneeled down next to me and laughed, I gave him a terrible look.

“I may need you to put me out of my misery,” I groaned.

“Do you remember last night?”

“Yeah. I remember being kidnapped. I remember your father being an insane psychopath. I remember being in a giant, tacky Vegas suite and drinking champagne. And that’s about it. But I think that’s enough chaos for one night, don’t you?”

I looked down at the pale blush-pink summer dress I was wearing. Last night on the plane, I had changed into a cream-colored sheath dress—I could remember that much. I glanced at James, who was wearing light-colored linen pants and a short-sleeved button-up shirt that was open at the top, revealing his tattoos.

“Did you change my clothes?” I asked groggily.

He nodded.

“Do you remember anything else from last night?”

I winced.

“Not really. I tend to black out once I’ve had more than two drinks.”

“That’s probably for the best,” he said as he grabbed me by the waist and lifted me into a standing position.

“Oh god. What’s that supposed to mean? How many drinks did I have? What did I do?”

He led me toward the door.

“We need to get some fluids into you.”

I leaned heavily on him as we walked. After he lowered me onto a sofa, I watched as he went over to a miniature refrigerator. He came back and handed me a glass filled with clear liquid.

“It’s not vodka, is it? Because I’ll wretch all over you.”

“Electrolyte fluid.”

I took a sip. It tasted awful—sickly sweet and medicinal.

“Ugh. I think I’d rather be hung over.”

“Just drink it. You’ll feel better.”

I drank as much as I could before flopping down and closing my eyes. I don’t know how long I was out, but when I woke up again, I noticed the loud humming noise from earlier and sat up in a panic.

“We’re on the plane? How long have I been out?”

“Well, you were awake, but not lucid for the first five hours or so. You’ve been passed out or vomiting for fifteen hours on and off. We’ll be on the ground shortly.”

“Fifteen
hours
? That’s worse than my twenty-first birthday! Why’d you let me drink so much—and where the hell are we going?”

“Sit back and relax. It’s a surprise. And take this.”

My eyes widened when he handed me my birth control pill case. Had it really been twenty-four hours since I had taken my last pill? Had I really been that out of it? I quickly pressed the next pill out of the foil and swallowed it before looking back at James.

“Feeling quite bossy, aren’t you, Mr. McDevitt?”

“Why, yes I am, Mrs. McDevitt,” he said as he stared back at me.

I froze, my chest tightening as a blurry image came back to me—James in a tuxedo, holding out a silver box with a giant diamond ring in it. I shook my head. It had to have been a dream. I gasped as my right hand flew to my left. There was a ring on my finger.

“No!”

I looked down and stopped breathing when I lifted my right hand from my left. The ring was insane. The round diamond in the center was the size of a dime. It was blinding—and surrounded by even more tiny diamonds, with two more round diamonds on either side of the massive center stone.

“Oh my god,” I choked.

This is a dream—this has to be a dream
, I thought dizzily as I stumbled to my feet.

“We’ll be on the ground shortly, Mr. McDevitt,” a voice said over the intercom.

James got up and took my arm, lowering me into a seat before taking the seat across from me.

“Fasten your seatbelt,” he said sternly.

“What did you do?” I whispered.

“I married you.”

My heart started racing

“What?
Why
? Why the hell did you do that? I haven’t even finished college. I don’t have anything figured out. My life’s a mess. We haven’t even slept together. Hell, I haven’t slept with anyone! I can’t be married! You don’t even—”

I cut off with a sob.

“First, I married you to protect you from my father. Second, you can still finish school while married. Third, you don’t have to have everything figured out. Fourth, very shortly I intend to rectify the part about you not having slept with anyone.”

I shook my head. This was insane. This was
beyond
insane.

“We need to get this annulled.”

Because that was what people did when they drunkenly got married in Vegas to someone who was incapable of love, right?

“I won’t do that,” James said calmly.

“What? Why? Are you insane?”

“No, I’m pragmatic.”

I stared at him, dumbfounded. Then I shook my head.

“I can’t be married to someone who doesn’t—I can’t. This is just wrong.”

Suddenly tears were spilling down my cheeks. I could have survived this whole thing if I had been able to walk away. I would have healed, eventually. But I couldn’t do
this
. I couldn’t be with someone who thought of me as a practical decision.

This was a nightmare.

“I can’t …”

“You can’t what?” James asked mildly.

“I can’t do this.”

I can’t be in love with someone who can’t love me back
, I thought helplessly.

I turned to look out the window at the endless blue of sky and ocean. When James reached over and handed me a bottle of sunscreen, I shrugged and stared blankly at it.

“Put it on. Your skin is too beautiful to burn.”

I opened the cap and spread the cream over my neck, my face, my arms. Then I reached down to do my legs. James was right about the burning part—my skin didn’t tan.

“Sit forward and pull your hair up.”

I did what he told me. He took the bottle of lotion, and I tried not to cry as his hands slid across the back of my neck, down to my shoulder blades, and along the edges of the dress. His hands were strong and warm, and his fingers skimmed across my skin until I closed my eyes. It made me angry that I could be so affected by someone who saw me as a practical decision.

As soon as he was done, I sat up and stared out the window at the ocean until we landed. When James stood, I got up without touching him. He reached out and took my hand.

“If you want, I’ll have the pilots take you back after refueling. It’s your choice.”

Dabbing self-consciously at my eyes, I debated. It was probably the smartest choice to leave now. But I couldn’t. The thought of watching him walk away and never seeing him again was making me sick. I still couldn’t decide which was worse, though—staying when he couldn’t love me the way I loved him or leaving and never seeing him again.

“I don’t want to …”
lose you
, I finished silently. “I mean—I want to stay.”

James smiled and squeezed my hand before pulling me toward the front of the plane. I smiled and thanked the pilot and copilot before walking out into the bright sunlight. Blinking, I looked around. We were on a deserted runway of a large airport. The air around us felt tropical and balmy. Hawaii maybe? James held my hand as we walked down the stairs, and I was grateful to be wearing a pair of nearly flat blush-pink sandals James had apparently put on me while I had been sleeping.

At the bottom of the stairs, there was a jeep waiting. A man opened the door for me, and James gestured for me to get in. For a second, I was afraid he was going to let the man drive off with me—the same way he had before his father’s fundraiser. I breathed a sigh of relief when he slid in beside me.

Judging from the view, we were definitely somewhere tropical—I just had no idea where. I knew it didn’t take twenty hours to reach Hawaii from the West Coast. Within another ten minutes, the jeep pulled up at a dock, and James got out, again offering his hand. I stepped out and as soon as I was out of the vehicle, James easily lifted me into his arms and began carrying me toward a speedboat floating on the aquamarine water at the end of the dock. The man who had driven us from the airport walked along behind us. James stopped in front of the boat, set me down, and pointed across the water to a barely visible island.

“Only another twenty-five minutes or so, and we’ll be there,” he said as he skillfully unwound the rope connecting the boat to the dock.

The man who had come down the dock with us was crouched down, holding the boat against the side of the dock. I looked out across the calm waters.

“Where is
there
?”

“Our island.”

My eyes went wide. I wasn’t sure if it was his use of the word
our
or
island
that shocked me more.

“You
own
an island?” I sputtered.

“
We
own an island.”

My eyes dropped to the giant ring on my finger. I still couldn’t get over the fact that this was real. James grasped me around the waist and easily lifted me into the boat before jumping in after me and gesturing to a seat up front next to him. I walked over and dropped into the seat to the left of the steering wheel.

While he opened a storage compartment between us, I stared at the control panel. It looked kind of like the dashboard of my old Civic. I was assuming the gauges showed speed and fuel levels—but this was the first time I had been in a boat. James straightened up and gestured for me to stand as he held up a life vest.

“Do you get seasick?”

“Are you serious?” I asked as I stood.

“Absolutely.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been on a boat before.”

For several seconds, I looked out at the water and pondered capsizing and drowning, being eaten by sharks, or becoming hypothermic. I had watched some show that said people could die from hypothermia even in tropical waters. When I lifted my arms, James slipped the jacket on me and secured it. I was about to ask how he knew it would fit me—but it was James. He knew everything about me.

I sat again as he quickly put on his own life jacket. A moment later, a loud rumbling—like thunder—erupted, making me jump before I realized it was just James starting the engine.

My gaze drifted back to the tranquil waters around us. This was exactly the sort of place I had never thought I would see in a million years. Now I was here. With James McDevitt. … And I was married. I bit my lip as I imagined telling anyone that.

This was so not the way I had seen things going. The plan had never been to fall in love with someone—practically overnight. And I never could have expected that the person I would fall in love with would be like James.

Dangerous. Mysterious. Arrogant. Protective. Vulnerable. … And possibly incapable of love. I felt like a chess piece being moved across a board in a game played by James and his father.

Suddenly the boat’s engine roared louder, and I looked over as James waved at the man on the dock. The man stepped back, and within seconds the boat began skimming across the gleaming water. Gripping the sides of the seat as the boat’s speed picked up, I felt grateful for the life vest.

Under different circumstances, I would have been thrilled or amazed to be in a place like this. Now, though, all I could feel was a tight sense of dread in the center of my chest. Because the fairy tale wasn’t real—it was a practical arrangement for someone who didn’t like losing

I looked over at James. He looked perfectly at ease navigating a speedboat across the ocean; whereas I felt like I was hallucinating. After about fifteen minutes, James pointed toward a small, palm-tree-covered island.