Donna Hill

Prize of a Lifetime


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Gotta run. You just have a good time, you hear me? And keep me posted!”

      “I will,” Sasha said with a grin before hanging up. She tossed the cell phone in her purse, thought about calling her parents but decided to wait until after breakfast. At this time of the morning, her mother would swear that something was wrong and no amount of denying would convince her that some harm hadn’t come to her child. She checked her watch. Her eyes widened. She’d spent nearly twenty of her thirty minutes running her mouth with April. Now she had to hurry. At least she had “ready, set, go” hair. That was one thing she needn’t worry about.

      She darted into the bathroom and took a lightning-fast shower, toweled off and lathered her skin with shea-butter lotion and then a sunscreen before spritzing her bare arms and ankles with insect repellent. That bit of business aside, she quickly brushed her lashes with mascara, put gold hoops in her ears, grabbed a tangerine scrunchie and pulled her hair up into a ponytail. The style elongated her face and accented her cheekbones and wide brown eyes. She examined her reflection, turning left then right, pleased with what she saw. A swipe of deodorant and she was ready to slip into her dress with about three minutes to spare. Just as she was stepping into her white flats, there was a knock on her door. She drew in a breath. It was a pure Lady Sings the Blues moment, when Billie Holiday, played by Diana Ross, sees Louis McKay, played by Billie Dee Williams, for the first time. If she’d had a wall behind her, she would have slid down it just like Billie Holiday did. Instead, she gripped the doorknob.

      “Hi,” she managed to say.

      Mitchell, with the sun behind him, looked like a bronze Adonis. His milky-white T-shirt stretched across his broad chest was tucked into a pair of tan linen shorts that reached his knees. The hard muscles in his exposed arms flexed and released as he removed the dark shades from his sweet chocolate-brown eyes and looked at her with a sheepish grin.

      “Sorry, I’m starving,” he confessed. “Didn’t want to go over there without you and let you think I’d left all my manners in Georgia when you found me hunched over a plate.”

      Sasha tossed her head back and laughed full-out, releasing the sexual tension that bounced back and forth between them. “You know what? That’s just what I would have thought—This man’s mama didn’t raise him right,” she said laying on the Southern accent. She smiled. “Let me get my bag and I’ll be right with you.” She spun around, feeling like she was going out on a first date…and she sort of was doing just that. Her heart thumped.

      Mitchell watched her easy grace as she retreated inside the room to retrieve her bag. Why did he have such a thing for this woman whom he barely knew? After he’d left her a half hour earlier he couldn’t get ready fast enough so that he could see her again. What he needed to do, and quickly, was think with the head on the top of his neck and get back to the game plan. No distractions. He drew in a breath and straightened as she approached, but when she looked up and smiled at him, he forgot all about the plan.

      Chapter 4

      On the short stroll across the walkway and through the outdoor reception area, Mitchell and Sasha took in the scenery. The resort was quite magnificent, with stone and stucco structures, lush greenery and brilliant sunshine and white sandy beaches as far as the eye could see.

      The resort was slowly coming alive as guests clad in bright colors bursting with floral designs began to emerge. The slow-moving and relaxed atmosphere seemed to have put everyone in a festive mood.

      By the time they arrived at the semi-enclosed dining area they were surprised to find many of the seats already filled.

      “Guess a lot of folks are hungry early in the morning,” Mitchell said in a whisper close to Sasha’s ear, placing his hand at the small of her back to guide her to an empty table.

      His touch felt like hot coals, and even after he’d taken his hand away and helped her into her seat, Sasha could still feel the heat where his hand had been. She inhaled deeply to steady the sudden racing of her heart. How in the world was she going to pretend to be this worldly woman when a simple look, smile or touch from Mitchell made her insides melt?

      Mitchell took his seat opposite Sasha just as a waitress approached. She poured water into their glasses. “The buffet is right around the corner here,” she began, her voice sounding like music. “And hot food is at the end. Can I get you juice or coffee?” She looked from Sasha to Mitchell.

      “Orange juice for me,” Sasha said.

      “I’ll have the same, and a cup of coffee. Please.”

      The waitress bobbed her head and walked away.

      Mitchell focused on Sasha. “Ready?”

      “Yep.”

      They got up and headed toward the buffet and the unbelievable array of food. It ran the gamut from fresh tropical fruit to cold cereals, French toast, bacon and sausage to made-to-order omelets. And, of course, steamy, seasoned fish.

      They strolled along the row of buffet tables, loading food onto their plates and giggling as they added more.

      “I think I’m going to need another plate,” Mitchell said by the time they reached the omelet station. They were surprised that they both liked the same omelet ingredients—mushrooms, cheddar cheese, green and red peppers and spinach.

      Balancing two plates each, they returned to their table to find that the juice and coffee had arrived.

      “This is a lot of food,” Sasha said, rethinking her decision to get so much food. She’d been so good about how much she ate over the past few months, and she didn’t want to fall back into bad habits. She’d managed to stay away from meat and chosen fish instead, with plenty of fruit. Satisfied that she’d stuck with her healthy choices, albeit a lot of them, she lowered her head and quietly said grace. She was pleased when she looked up and saw that Mitchell was doing the same thing.

      “So…” he began as he cut into his omelet “…what do you do back in Savannah?”

      “By day, I’m a reservationist at the Summit Hotel. On the nights that I’m not in school, I help out at the family restaurant-slash-catering business.”

      His brows rose in appreciation as he slowly chewed his food. “You’re a busy lady.”

      She chuckled. “That I am.”

      “What are you studying in school?”

      She told him about the classes she was taking and her goal to one day run her own small resort. “I’m planning to be finished with my degree and certification in a few months. It’s been a long haul.”

      “You’re definitely determined and focused. Sounds like you really needed this vacation.”

      She sighed deeply. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a chance to get away.” She looked around at her beautiful surroundings. “This is certainly what the doctor ordered.”

      “Then I’m more determined than ever to make sure you have the time of your life. It’ll hold you over until your next big getaway.”

      She dared to look into his eyes and her breath caught in her chest. The look in his eyes bored down into her center and stroked her, like a feather brushing across the skin, tantalizing and teasing, making her shiver in response.

      He squinted. “Cold?”

      She laughed nervously. “No.” She looked away and focused on her food. “What about you? What do you do in your other life besides squire novice tourists around Caribbean islands?”

      He lifted his coffee cup to his lips and took a long sip, stalling for time. The minute he told her what a failure his life had turned into, she would do exactly what Regina had done, slam the door in his face. No woman wanted a man who was down on his luck, especially someone you were trying to impress.

      “I’m your average businessman, looking for opportunities in these tough times. I thought I’d see what the investment possibilities were here,” he offered