Chapter 6

Chapter

Six

The four ofthem went on an easy walk to the nearby Stone Dam. Hays apologized that it wasn't a huge waterfall, promising they'd find a better one tomorrow, but they were running out of daylight. Belinda didn't care. The waterfall and the entire walk were gorgeous—loads of flowers, a mahogany tree farm, a small waterfall and pool. The roosters everywhere would not last long in most areas of Africa she'd visited.

Belinda talked nonstop about her charity and the children and the gardening efforts and challenges, prompted initially by the lushness of the land, then by the men asking her question after question, sometimes sharing ideas or insights from their own experiences throughout the world.

Jagger seemed more interested than any of them. He only gave her a little bit of a hard time about her security, relaxing when she said they always had armed security guards on staff. Though he did an okay job of acting like the two of them didn't have a convoluted past for the cameras, he stayed far too close for her unstable state of mind, and every time their hands or arms so much as brushed, she reacted and he gave her a knowing smile that made her feel bubbly with warmth and angry at the same time. When he cracked his knuckles, she reached for his hand before stopping herself. This was rough.

Was he playing with her mind? He'd ditched her fourteen years ago. She knew she was at fault as well as she'd been trying to give Mike a chance for her parents' sake, but no way could Jagger have known that. He'd been obviously frustrated that they hadn't been able to connect through video chats, phone calls, and texts throughout the summer and as she started at the university, but to cut her off and give up on them like he had was inexcusable in her mind.

Had he learned from the past? Did they have a future? And wait a hot minute ... If he loved Mercedes Belle and the famous beauty loved him, what was he doing brushing his arm against Belinda's and making her want him?

They got back to the house as darkness fell. The beautiful pool area was glowing blue, and lights decorated the trees and greenery around the patio. They opted to eat the dinner waiting for them, traditional Hawaiian katsu chicken, teriyaki steak, macaroni salad, rice, and coleslaw, outside on the patio.

Everyone appeared friendly and amicable as the men chatted about favorite weapons and fighting techniques. Belinda didn't have much to contribute and found herself staring at Jagger, wondering what was going on in his mind and savoring the view of his handsome face. She could admit she'd missed staring at him. She was dying to have her questions answered and at the same time terrified of what the answers may be.

They all pitched in to clean up dinner, and Belinda wondered what they'd do now. It was eight o'clock. Not late enough to go to bed, but too late to get in the ocean like Jagger suggested. Belinda wouldn't mind seeing him in a swimsuit, but that wouldn't be smart.

Hays suggested they play pool. That was safer. It was fun to play with the ultra-competitive men and laugh and taunt with them even though she wasn't very good at pool.

Jagger was enticing to her and making her crazy with his meaningful looks and not-so-accidental brushes of his arm or hand.

He came around behind her as she was getting ready to shoot and softly wrapped his hands around hers, pressing his chest against her back. She about jumped out of her skin.

"Whoa." He chuckled softly against her cheek. "I thought you said you needed some help with your technique."

Belinda catalogued every inch of his strong frame pressed against her and especially his lips inches from hers. His mouth touched her cheek, and she went hot and cold. She wanted to spin in his arms and kiss him for hours, but he was messing with her mind and suddenly she couldn't take it any longer.

"I don't need any help from the likes of you," she shot at him. She was uncorked and ready to let loose on him, like a glass bottle of pop shook up and exploding when the top was popped off.

The other men startled. Up until this point, all the banter had been teasing. Her line was definitely angry, feisty, sassy. Whatever anybody wanted to call it, it wasn't friendly.

She dropped the stick on the table, ducked under his arm, and ran for the stairs. "Goodnight," she hollered to the other men, catching the look of frustration and longing on Jagger's face.

Longing? Oh no. She loved him and longed for him, too.

No! She pumped up the stairs toward the sanctuary of her room.

Footsteps moving much faster and louder than hers pounded behind her.

"No!" she screamed. She reached the main level and rushed up the next set of stairs. Running down the short hall to her suite, she shoved the door open.

Jagger darted in front of her and blocked her entry into her own bedroom. The absolute gall of the man. She couldn't catch a breath and he didn't even seem winded.

"Bee." He put up his hands. "Please. It's fourteen years past time we talked this all out."

"Oh, you think?" She shoved at his chest. He kept his hands up and slowly backtracked into her room. Belinda followed him. She wanted to start ranting and raving at him, but she remembered the stupid cameras and how they weren't supposed to even know each other.

Jagger wrapped his strong arms around her, tugged her away from the door, and kicked it shut with his foot.

Belinda had already been out of breath from her sprint up the stairs. Now she lost all ability to breathe or recover from her lack of oxygen. She was in his arms. Finally. This was her spot. The best spot on earth. It had been too long, but instantly she was in the safest and happiest place on earth. Jagger's arms were a thrill ride with a perfectly fitting safety harness and the highest safety rating available. There was no danger here, only exhilaration and love and fulfillment.

"Bee," he murmured, lowering his head to hers.

All Belinda wanted to do was kiss him. But then she remembered the agony of him ditching her and the ensuing heartbreak and attempting to recover for years.

The kissing was a no. She was mad and confused and couldn't even see clearly to know how to deal with him being here this week or being brought back into her life. She also hadn't caught her breath from her sprints up the stairs. She needed some oxygen and space to think clearly.

"Don't!" she yelled, yanking away from him. "Get thee hence, Satan."

His eyes widened and thankfully he let her go. She'd never be able to escape if he wanted to pin her down. Pin her down? Dang, that sounded appetizing.

No. It was still a no.

"Satan?" He cracked his knuckles.

"Don't do this to me," she shot at him, backing into the nearby wall and dragging in deep gulps of oxygen. "I can't even breathe right now."

Jagger didn't advance on her. He rubbed a hand over his short hair and shook his head. "Bee. This is a mess. We're a mess. I can't pretend I don't know you. I can't hide the feelings I have for you. One look, one touch, and I'm right back to lov?—"

"No!" she hollered. "You are going to have to hide your feelings and stop looking at me and touching me." She was loud enough, the cameras in the hallway were probably picking all of this up. "I'm not ready to rehash the past. I need some space."

Jagger took a deep breath and just stared at her. Her room was dark, only the lights from the beautiful patio outside lighting it. He looked appealing and handsome, and she'd missed him for far too long. She was a moment away from forgetting their past, at least long enough to kiss him desperately.

"How's Mike?" he gritted out.

"I'm sure Mike is doing just fine," she snipped back.

Jagger studied her. "You married him?"

"Yes," she said, wondering what he knew or didn't know. No way he knew that she'd been trying to give Mike a chance the summer it had all imploded for her and Jagger. Did he know she was divorced? For some reason, she didn't want to tell him. She really didn't want to talk about Mike.

"How's Mercedes?" she threw back at him, folding her arms across her chest to protect herself from him.

"At the moment, she's quite manipulative." He rolled his eyes. "But I love her, so of course I can't tell her no."

Bee's eyes widened and her entire body hurt. He'd admitted he loved Mercedes. She'd never fallen in love with anyone else, hadn't even truly loved the man she'd married, only like a brother. Jagger loved Mercedes and the poor lady was so sickly she couldn't even come to the show.

"Get out," she said quietly.

All those nights spent crying, wondering why he wouldn't just send a simple text …

"Excuse me?" Jagger didn't leave. In fact, he edged closer to her.

"I can't do this with you," she said.

All the pitying, attempted consoling from her parents and Mike, trying to help her get over him and only making things worse…

"You're breaking my heart in two again, Jag, and I'm not strong enough to go through that anguish with you again."

All those years wondering what was wrong with her, what could force him away without a word of goodbye or explanation...

"Bee." His voice was soft and full of pleading. "I don't want to break your heart. I never did."

"How can you say that?" She threw her hands in the air. It was too much. Him loving Mercedes. Them thrust into this insane challenge, together for almost a week. Him claiming he didn't want to break her heart. Well, he had and he was. "Please. Let me rest. It's too much. I can't. I just can't."

Jagger swallowed, looking her over and apparently seeing she was at her wit's end. "I understand. Maybe tomorrow …"

Belinda shook her head. She would make no promises to him. Yanking the door open, she pointed to the hallway.

Jagger gave her one more searching look and then strode out the door.

She shut it behind him. Then she sank to the floor, pulled out her necklace, clung to the ring he'd given her, and let herself cry.

She'd thought she was broken and confused when he'd ditched her fourteen years ago. How was seeing him again and knowing they still didn't have a chance at love and happiness even worse?

Jagger loved Mercedes Belle. Belinda had always thought that lady was angelic, but she malevolently and selfishly loathed the generous heiress at the moment. If she could find a poster of Mercedes Belle, she'd throw darts at it until she felt better.

If Jagger never loved Belinda again … she would never feel better.