had ever said that to him. He was angry for a minute, and then he respected her for it. She was her own person, and a brave girl. He only knew a fraction of what she’d been through, but she was a strong woman, and he knew he could love her if she’d let him. But it didn’t seem like that was going to happen. “If you get me to the airport, I’ll catch a flight back to New York. You don’t need to send me, or fly me back.” She didn’t want to inconvenience him on top of it, or cost him anything. This had been her mistake.
“Will you spend the night?” he asked hopefully, thinking that maybe he could persuade her if she stayed.
“No, I won’t. I don’t trust either of us, particularly myself.” She smiled at him. “You’re an incredibly appealing man. I think I already love you a little bit, and I’d rather stop now. It just gets messy later, and everyone gets hurt.” She was too wise for his game. He wasn’t a player but he used all the wiles and comforts he had to win. She wasn’t going to let him. She knew she had stopped just in time before something stupid happened and then it would take months or years to undo it, and repair the damage.
“I’m sorry it’s only a little bit.” He smiled at her. “You’re a remarkable woman.” And now that she didn’t want him, he wanted her even more. “I’m not letting you take that suicide flight out of Saint Bart’s. I’d never forgive myself. The boat can take you to Saint Martin. It will only take an hour. You can catch the first flight out, or spend the night on the boat if you have to.” He wanted to go with her and try to change her mind, but he didn’t. He knew better, and not to chase a woman who didn’t want him. He could see that Coco had made up her mind and nothing would stop her. Not even him.
“Thank you, Charlie. And I really mean that. Thank you for making it easy, even this part. I’m sorry I can’t stay.”
“I thought it was too good to be true, and I was one lucky guy.”
“You are a lucky guy, and a great one, and I’ve been lucky to be with you. I just need to be doing something different.” She reached up and kissed him on the cheek then. He had been a total gentleman throughout, even now. He could have told her to walk home if she didn’t want him. Instead he was providing his two-hundred-foot yacht to help her make her getaway. She was back in the hall with her suitcases five minutes later. He kissed her, for real this time, and meant it, and she thanked him again and followed the driver outside to the Rolls. He drove her down to the port, and she boarded the boat. They set sail fifteen minutes later, after they cast off the lines and started the engines, and she was in Saint Martin at ten o’clock. One of the crew members accompanied her to the airport in a cab. She had missed the last flight, but there was one at seven the next morning. She went back to the boat to spend the night, as Charlie had offered. They put her in the owner’s cabin, and she had a good chance to see everything she missed. The Picassos on the walls, the Warhols, the rest of his art, the luxurious cabin, and the man himself was so enticing, and she had turned him down. Maybe she was crazy, but she hoped she was right. She didn’t want to spend more years of her life, chasing the flash only to discover later it wasn’t real. Charlie was the best of his kind, but it wasn’t the life she wanted.
A crew member took her back to the airport at five-thirty A.M., she checked in at six, and thanked the crewman who left her there. The flight was full and nothing like the comforts of the flight down from New York on his plane. But she felt good in her own skin, pleased with herself, and a little nervous about what she was about to do.
They landed at nine-thirty, she got her bags, and was in the city at eleven, and left her suitcases with her doorman. She didn’t want to go upstairs and see Bethanie yet.