STELLA/CHRISTIAN
Christianand I arrived in Kauai past dinnertime the next night.
Instead of venturing to the hotel’s restaurant, which would take too much effort, we ordered room service and settled in the villa’s living room.
True to form, Christian had taken one look at the room Delamonte booked for me and upgraded us to the last remaining villa.
I snuck a peek at him as we ate in companionable silence.
He lounged against his side of the couch, looking infuriatingly sexy with his rumpled shirt and tousled hair. Neither of us looked our best after traveling all day, but his dishevelment only made him hotter, not less.
“Like what you see?” he drawled.
“Yes.” I made a point of looking around the gorgeous villa. It boasted stunning views of the Pacific, and the living room opened onto a furnished lanai, which in turn led directly to our private beach. “This place is stunning.”
That wasn’t what he was asking, but there was no need to inflate his ego. He knew I knew he was hot, so what was the point of saying it?
Christian’s knowing laugh warmed my stomach like decadent hot chocolate.
There was a certain magic in seeing him outside the confines of D.C. Like at Dante’s dinner, he’d slipped into a more relaxed version of himself.
No suit, easy laughter.
“I like this version of you.” I held my mug close to my mouth. “You’re more…” I searched for the right word. “Approachable.”
A smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Am I?”
“Let’s put it this way. D.C. Christian looks like he would murder you if you cut him off in traffic. Hawaii Christian looks like he would give you a ride if he saw your car broken down on the side of the road.”
The rich sound of his amusement filled the corners of the room once more. “We’ve been in Hawaii for less than two hours.”
“Exactly. Imagine what three days in paradise would do to you.” I took a thoughtful sip of tea. “Dancing in a Hawaiian-print shirt? Joining me for sunrise yoga? Giving up red meat? The possibilities are endless.”
“Stella.” He leaned forward, his face serious. “The day I wear a Hawaiian-print shirt is the day cows fucking fly.”
“You never know at the rate technology is progressing. It could happen,” I said, undeterred. “You know what your problem is?”
“Pray do tell. I’m on the edge of my seat.”
I ignored his unhelpful sarcasm. “You take yourself too seriously, and you work too much. You should take more vacations, or at least connect with nature every once in a while. It’s good for the soul.”
“It’s too late for my soul, Stella.”
Despite his light tone, I sensed he wasn’t joking.
My smile faded. “Spoken like a true pessimist.”
“Realist.”
“Cynic.”
“Skeptic.” Christian’s lips tugged up at my frown. “Shall we continue playing thesaurus or move on to a more interesting topic?”
“We’ll move on, but only because I want to spare you the indignity of losing,” I said regally.
“That’s very kind of you.”
I didn’t appreciate the knowing laughter threaded through his voice, but I let it slide. He was paying for this beautiful villa, after all, and he’d saved me from spending ten hours in a cramped airline seat, watching old movies and trying to prevent my legs from falling asleep.
There were few things more uncomfortable than being a tall person in economy.
I sank deeper into the couch and deliberated on a good topic before I said, “Tell me something about you I don’t already know.”
I’d forgiven Christian for shutting me out after Dante’s dinner, but I hadn’t given up trying to pry more personal tidbits out of him. I didn’t care if they were as simple as his favorite superhero growing up; I just wanted something. Knowing things about Christian wouldn’t do much to protect my heart, but we were stuck together for the foreseeable future and I wanted to make the best of it.
Part of me expected him to evade the request per usual, but to my surprise, he answered readily. “I don’t like dessert.”
A horrified gasp rose in my throat. “All dessert?”
“All dessert,” he confirmed.
“Why?”
“I don’t have a sweet tooth.”
“There are non-sweet desserts.”