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“Livable, anyway,” Chase said, leaning back against the wall and folding his arms.
Annie smiled. “Don’t be modest, Chase. I know your work is well thought of. I see your name—the company’s name—in the papers all the time. You’ve made it to the top.”
“So they tell me.” His tone was flat, and so was his smile. “To tell you the truth, the only thing I’ve noticed is that if that’s where I am, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
“Aren’t you happy?”
“Are you?”
She stared at him. Why was she hesitating? Of course, she was happy. She had her house. Her business. Friends. Interests. A life that was comfortable, not one in which she was expected to play a role.
“Annie?”
She looked up. Chase had moved closer. She had only to reach out her hand, if she wanted to touch him.
“Are you happy?” he asked softly.
She wanted to say that she was. To tell him what she’d just told herself, how her life had taken on shape and meaning.
Instead she found herself thinking how wonderful it had felt when they’d kissed. She wanted to tell him that though she’d made a good life for herself, there was an emptiness to it that she hadn’t even been aware of until she’d gone into his arms on the dance floor.
But to say any of that would have been stupid. Chase was out of her life; she was out of his. That was the way they both wanted it. Hadn’t they proved that a few hours ago, when they’d gone at each other, hammer and tong? Whatever she thought she’d felt since the wedding was an aberration.
“Yes,” she said, with a smile that felt as if it were stretching her lips grotesquely, “certainly, I’m happy. I’ve never been more content in my life.”
A curtain seemed to drop over Chase’s eyes.
“Of course,” he said politely. “You’re happy, with your business and your fiancé.”
Annie nodded. “And so are you.”
“Yeah. And so am I.”
They looked at each other and then Chase walked to the door.
“Well,” he said briskly, “I think I’ll go check out the refrigerator. There’s bound to be enough food for a couple of meals there, or in the freezer.”
“All the conveniences, hmm? Even way out here.”
“Everybody’s got a different definition of roughing it, I guess.”
“So I see. If you’d told me we’d end up in a cabin on an island a million miles from civilization, I’d have imagined a one-room shack with a propane stove on the porch and an outhouse in the back.”
Chase smiled. “Like the place we rented that summer after we got married. Remember? The outdoor sun-shower, the one-hole, no-flush John...”
Annie laughed. “How could I forget? We bought that funny set of pots and pans that were supposed to fit inside each other, and those sleeping bags...”
“Boy, we were dumb,” Chase said, laughing, too. “We must have spent, what, an hour or more trying to figure out how to zip the bags together because we sure as hell weren’t going to sleep apart...” His words trailed off. “Damn,” he said softly, “I haven’t thought of that weekend in years.”
Neither had Annie. Just remembering made her throat constrict.
“I—I think I’ll go freshen up,” she said. “And then—and then, maybe I’ll take a walk, too. Just to clear my head. The flight was so long, and—and everything’s been so hurried...”
“Yeah. Sure.” Chase swallowed dryly. “You go on. Wash up, walk around, whatever. I’ll check out the supplies.”
“I’ll come give you a hand in a few minutes.” She gave a quick, brittle laugh. “I wish I had a hairbrush with me, or even some lipstick. I feel like a complete mess.”
Chase thought of telling her the truth, that she didn’t need a brush or cosmetics because she was already more beautiful than any woman he’d ever known.
Hell, he thought, and he pulled open the door, stepped out into the hall and strode away from temptation as fast as he could without breaking into a run.
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHASE GLANCED at his watch.
The Tanaka Hotel wasn’t as perfect as it looked, he thought wryly. The freezer and the refrigerator had turned out to be surprisingly empty. Someone must have emptied things out, in preparation for the day the cabin would be demolished.
Still, there’d been some usable stuff in the pantry and he’d been able to come up with the makings for an improvised meal. Now, he was peeling potatoes and onions but his thoughts were elsewhere. Fifteen minutes had gone by since he’d heard the front door open, then shut as Annie had gone off on her walk.
