Prize of a Lifetime. Donna Hill

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      “I promise.”

      April signaled for a skycap to help with the bags. “You have all of your important papers, phone and personal items in your carry-on, right? Something to read?”

      Sasha nodded.

      “Condoms? A smart girl always carries her own.”

      Sasha blushed. “Yes, ma’am,” she said, laughing.

      “Good. Well…this is it, girl.”

      “Did I tell you thank-you?” Sasha said.

      April grinned. “About a dozen times.”

      “I wish you were coming.”

      “Chile, you gonna meet some fine island man and forget all about me,” April teased. “Just remember poor old me when you win that million!”

      The friends embraced one last time, fighting back tears with smiles, before Sasha pushed through the revolving doors and was swallowed up amongst the crowd of travelers.

      Sasha checked her luggage before moving through the long line of security, and sent up a silent prayer that it would arrive in the same place that she did. After being nearly stripped naked, she put back on her sandals, her jacket, her wristwatch and belt, returned her laptop to her bag and finally emerged into the waiting area. For a while there she’d thought she was going to have to take off her lipstick, too. She pulled her carry-on behind her, hoisted her purse up on her shoulder and went in search of an empty seat, preferably one with a view. There was still an hour to wait before her flight departed and she wanted to be as comfortable as possible.

      She spotted three vacant seats in the corner near the check-in counter. Maneuvering around outstretched legs and luggage she made it to the other side of the counter and plopped down in a seat with a sigh of relief. She took a quick look around at the passengers, sizing up who was with whom and who was single, who was on vacation and who was traveling on business. She wondered how many were going all the way to Antigua and how many were getting off at the stopover in Puerto Rico. From what she could tell there was a nice cross-section, but no one that really stuck out. To occupy herself she began making up stories about the passengers, pairing up those who were single, and conjuring up images of the couples and what their lives were like. She checked her watch. A whole ten minutes had gone by. Sighing, she shifted in her seat then dug in her purse for the novel she’d brought with her.

      “Anyone sitting here?”

      She looked up and her heart jumped in her chest. A chocolate-brown Adonis stood above her, almost a dead ringer for Michael Jordan. “Uh, no.”

      “Mind if I sit next to you?”

      His voice was rich, like maple syrup with a slight drawl, she thought. “Sure. I mean, no,” she sputtered nervously.

      He smiled and lowered his long, lean body into the seat, spread his thighs and pulled his bag between them.

      Sasha zeroed in on her book and tried to concentrate on words that were making no sense over the tantalizing scent of his cologne. Heat pooled at her neck and flooded her face as she watched from the corner of her eye, as his slender fingers tapped against his thigh.

      “That’s what I should have done,” he said.

      “Uh?”

      He lifted his square chin toward her book. “I should have brought something to read to kill some time.”

      “Oh,” was all she could come up with.

      “Are you going all the way to Antigua?”

      “Yes. You?”

      “Yep. First time?”

      “Yes. What about you?”

      “I’ve been there once. Beautiful place.” He drew in a breath and she gulped as his broad chest spread beneath his fitted black T-shirt. “Perfect weather, incredible beaches and the people are great. They have their share of poverty, but they try to keep that away from the tourists.”

      “What brings you back? Business?”

      “Something like that. What about you?”

      She closed her book and was on the verge of telling him her amazing story, but remembered the clause in her contract. “Vacation.”

      “Vacation? All alone?”

      She wasn’t sure if his question was just curiosity or an indictment. “I…decided to be adventurous.”

      One corner of his full mouth curved upward. “I like that. It takes a lot of courage to travel alone.” He paused. “Mitchell Davenport.” He stuck out his hand.

      “Sasha Carrington.” She placed her hand in his and nearly sighed out loud when his warm fingers enveloped her hand, and his soft brown eyes crinkled at the corners.

      “I should let you get back to your book. Sorry.”

      “It’s fine. Really.” She offered a small smile. Say something, dummy. “Do you live in Savannah?”

      “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 СКАЧАТЬ