Chapter 1 #2
My stomach does a weird swoop as a sixth sense about the woman who’s alighting makes me pay closer attention.
There’s something unnervingly familiar about her.
I can’t see the whole of her face because it’s partly obscured by a wide-brimmed sun hat, but there’s something about the fluid, elegant way she moves, a bit like a dancer, plus the glow of her perfect, honey-coloured skin that grabs me by the throat.
And her mouth.
Wide and plump and sensual. It makes me think about things I really shouldn’t be thinking about in the middle of a public space. Especially because my body reacts accordingly.
There’s only one person I’ve ever met who’s had that kind of effect on me. And it’s not someone I thought I’d ever see again. Especially not here. Not now.
As if she’s sensed my interest, the woman raises her head and looks directly towards where I’m standing staring at her, unable to drag my gaze away.
A hot shiver runs from the top of my scalp all the way to my feet.
No fucking way.
* * *
Chloe
After stepping down from the hotel’s shuttle bus, I take a deep breath of the fresh, oxygenated air. It smells amazing here, so earthy and woody.
I wave away the kind driver’s offer to wheel my suitcase into reception for me.
I’ve never stayed in a five-star hotel before, so I’m not exactly sure how to act. Are you meant to tip? I’ve been told there isn’t a tipping culture in Japan, but does that apply to these sorts of hotels too?
I don’t want to get it wrong and appear rude or thoughtless, but I also don’t want to step on a custom and make anyone feel uncomfortable. It’s a bloody minefield.
No wonder rich people seem so uptight.
Thankfully, the guy doesn’t give me chance to put my hand in my pocket and performs a friendly, respectful bow before getting back into the minibus.
I grab the handle of my suitcase and turn towards the main doors to the hotel. It’s like walking up to paradise. The entrance is a sea of green, or should I say a river, since we’re on the bank of one. It’s so lush and vibrant and it makes my heart soar to see it.
I love being amongst greenery. The charity I’ve been working for since graduating from university is heavily invested in rewilding and maintaining and protecting forests and green spaces in the UK, so I live and breathe plants and trees.
The hotel has been built with a lot of wood, helping it blend into the landscape, though I know for a fact that it was constructed many years ago using sustainable sources. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to stay here.
Adrian had wanted to book into a place in the middle of Kyoto for the nightlife, but I was adamant I wanted somewhere quieter. I pointed out that we could travel into the city to find the fun, if we were struggling to make our own.
He’d given in to my wants, as he’d always done, being far more laid-back than me. But of course, I realise now that it was more to do with his guilt about the second thoughts he was having about us getting married.
A hot, sickening sort of dismay rises through me, but I push it down again. I have a horrible feeling it’s going to take me a long time to trust a partner again.
Hopefully a week here will help lift the heavy malaise that’s been dragging at me since the weekend, anyway. I haven’t cried yet, but I can feel it bubbling away below the surface.
Distraction is what I need.
As I move towards the entrance doors, they open with a soft swooshing sound and I walk into the reception area, pulling my case behind me.
It takes a second for my eyes to get used to the change in light as it’s a lot more muted in here, but when they do, I realise I’m looking directly at a tall, broad-shouldered man who’s standing in front of the reception desk.
He’s staring right back at me.
There’s something oddly familiar about him.
My whole body gives a shiver, sending an electric sort of tingle across my skin, as my mind clicks together the pieces of memory I need to form the information I’m grasping for.
Oh my God.
Kit Charleston.
Of all the places and times to see him again. Seriously, karma? Right now?
* * *
Kit
What are the odds of Chloe Dasher turning up here, on the other side of the world, just when I’m trying to avoid thinking about anything from my past?
I came all the way here precisely to get away from England, in order to get my head straight, but seeing Chloe has brought all the feelings I thought I’d left there rushing back to the forefront of my mind.
Is this holiday going to turn out to be some Scrooge-type scenario? Girlfriends past, present and future coming to fuck with me?
‘Hello, stranger,’ I say as she walks up to where I’m standing at the reception desk.
‘I thought I was hallucinating there for a second,’ she says by way of reply, shaking her head in wonder.
‘Nope. It’s really me. In the flesh. Bumping into you, in Japan of all places, after not seeing you for, what? Five years?’
‘Second year of university, right? So yeah. About five years.’
A memory of us fucking flashes through my head.
We’d been dynamite together in the sack.
We’d had a certain type of chemistry I’ve not been able to reproduce with anyone else.
Not even Katya, though it was a different kind of vibe I’d had with her.
Don’t get me wrong, the sex was great. Just not as electric as it had been with Chloe.
And you need more than sex to make a long-term relationship last, as she and I discovered five years ago.
We’d had a lot of fun together at the time though.
I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as headstrong and forthright as Chloe.
She always said really left-field things, stuff I never heard coming out of anyone else’s mouth, and it had fascinated me.
I’d loved how unpredictable she was. It became clear we weren’t that compatible, on an emotional level, because she’d been after a more committed kind of relationship, so it had blown itself out after a few months together.
We’d parted on fairly decent terms but had run in different social circles, and she’d got together with some other guy pretty quickly after we split, so I’d honestly never expected to see her again.
‘So, what brings you to Japan?’ I ask, hoping, the moment after I’ve said it, that she doesn’t ask me the same thing.
I don’t really want to get into the whole cancelled wedding shitshow with her right now.
If she does ask, I’m just going to say I’m here to get some R&R after a heavy work stint.
She’ll never know it’s not entirely accurate.
We don’t have any mutual friends or acquaintances any more so she’s unlikely to have heard about my situation.
Chloe visibly swallows and something that looks a lot like sadness flashes across her face.
How weird.
I hope no-one died.
There’s a heavy pause before she gives me a strained smile and says, ‘This was meant to be my honeymoon, but the wedding didn’t happen. I came anyway for a holiday.’
Her honesty knocks the wind out of me.
Well hell, I can’t very well lie to her now about why I’m here. Not when she’s just trusted me with that.
So I say, ‘Snap.’
She frowns and wrinkles her freckle-scattered nose at me. Yeah, she’s still as pretty as she was when I last saw her, prettier even. In fact if anything, she’s grown more into her looks, which are now verging on beautiful.
Damn it. I really shouldn’t be noticing things like that right now.
‘What do you mean, snap?’ she asks, sounding confused.
‘I mean, snap, me too.’
She shakes her head, still baffled it seems. ‘You too what?’
‘I was meant to be here on my honeymoon too.’
This time her mouth falls open, and she stares at me in shock. ‘Are you kidding?’
‘Why would I kid about something like that?’
An expression of remorse crosses her face.
‘Shit. Sorry, I don’t know why I said that.
I guess the whole being abandoned at the alter thing has left me with trust issues.
’ She flashes an apologetic smile. ‘And I’m a bit freaked out about seeing you here, if I’m honest. It’s made my head spin.
Plus I’m jetlagged, so a triple whammy.’
I nod. ‘Yeah, me too. It’s a long flight from London.’
‘So you’re here for a holiday too?’ she asks.
‘Yup.’
‘And you’re on your own?’
‘I am.’
‘How are you finding that? I always had you pegged as an extrovert who needs to have people around to give you energy.’
‘To give me attention, you mean,’ I say wryly, harking back to a conversation we’d had years ago. ‘Actually, I just got here myself,’ I say, before she has a chance to reply. ‘But I’m looking forward to having some time on my own.’
‘Really?’ Her tone is full of disbelief.
‘Yes, really. I can spend time on my own you know. I’m not that shallow,’ I joke.
She holds up both hands, palms forward. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that you were.’ She clears her throat. ‘So, what happened to your relationship? If you don’t mind me asking?’
I fold my arms and shrug. ‘She – Katya – decided I wasn’t the guy she wanted to get hitched to after all.’
She gives a little hiccoughy sort of laugh. ‘Snap.’
This time I give her a questioning frown.
A sad smile plays about her gorgeous mouth. ‘My ex-fiancé realised he was in love with a guy he works with and not with me after all. So he dumped me for him. Wedding cancelled. Life reset.’
‘Oh shit.’
‘Yeah. Not the happy ever after I was hoping for.’
‘You know that doesn’t really exist, don’t you? This whole idea of “the perfect relationship” is just a vehicle for selling romantic novels, films and heart-shaped merchandise,’ I say, batting a dismissive hand.
The corner of her mouth twitches up. ‘You reckon?’
‘Yup.’
‘Okay, well, thanks for that insight. It’s really cheered me up.’ Her ironic tone is laced with amusement.
It takes me right back to when we were dating. I’d found her dry sarcasm a real turn-on when we’d first got together – or, I should say, when we first started fucking.
She seems to think she’s crossed a line of politeness though because she takes a step back and flips me an apologetic smile. ‘Anyway, I think it’s probably time I checked in and went straight to bed. I barely slept at all on the flight.’
As much as I don’t want them to, my thoughts immediately turn to an image of her naked, climbing into her bed.
What the fuck is wrong with me? Is horniness a side effect of jetlag? Maybe it’s because my body’s aware it’s unlikely to get any action in the immediate future and is rebelling.
Well, it can rebel all it likes, there’s no way on earth Chloe and I will be partaking in any kind of skin-on-skin activity. She’s clearly hurting from her relationship falling apart and I’m guessing she probably wants nothing to do with men right now.
‘Okay. Well, have a good holiday. It’s good to see you. A mind-fuck, but a cool one,’ I say, stepping aside so she can get to the reception desk.
I nod to the receptionist, who hands me back my passport and a room key, and I turn to leave.
‘Yeah, fucked up, but good to see you too,’ Chloe says, giving me a tight smile, then turning away to check in at the desk.
I feel well and truly dismissed.
Which is fine by me. I just want to get to my room and chill for a while now anyway.
A porter appears as if by magic and gives me a polite bow before picking up my case and leading me away from the desk and towards the apartment where I’m going to be staying.
It’s one of five exclusive residences dotted along the riverbank and is nestled amongst the lush greenery of the hotel’s extensive grounds.
They have both tennis and paddle courts at the far end as well as a whole separate building housing a spa where they offer the most cutting-edge treatments available.
The rich and famous often book in here specifically to use the world-class facilities and re-energise after a heavy work stint.
Tiredness swamps me and I let out a big yawn as I follow him through a beautifully curated Japanese-style garden, with its waterfall running gently into a pond full of koi fish.
Perhaps a power nap will sort me out. Reset my body-clock. Then I’ll be ready to get into my holiday.
I glance back towards the main building of the hotel.
I wonder if that’s the last I’ll see of Chloe Dasher?