Read Race Online

Authors: Bethany Walkers

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #Romance

Race (5 page)

BOOK: Race
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"Oi! Come back here!" the cooker roared, trying to chase after him, but failed. Ronan grabbed Chantelle's hand and they both ran for all they were worth, up the countless flights of stairs to the top of the ship once more. When they both stopped, they were both panting, breathless. Ronan still had the cakes in hs hands.

 

"Now that's what I call fun!" Ronan grinned, and  Chantelle nodded, still panting. "Here - have a cake," Ronan offered. "Or, have both cakes, since you're light as a feather!"

 

Chantelle smiled at him. "You're so nice, Ronan," she said finally. "That's the most fun I've had since ages! But don't worry, I don't want both the cakes."

 

Ronan ate one of the cakes in an entire mouthful, his lips smothered in cream and crumbs.

 

"Ronan!" Chantelle giggled.

 

Ronan opened the next cake, which looked just as tasty as the other one. "Come on, baby, have a taste!"

 

"It's fine, Ronan, I'm really not that hungry!" Chantelle complained.

 

"Fine, I'll feed you!" Ronan's eyes sparkled; he was not going to give up that easily. He broke off a piece of the cake and gently put it in her mouth.

 

Chantelle couldn't help but smile. She swallowed the cake down. Ronan continued to feed her, until the cake was finished and they both had nothing left to do.

 

“I'm bored,” Ronan stated, his eyes shining under the light. Chantelle recognized that look on his face; it meant trouble for sure. For a twenty one year old, he sure acted like a child a lot. Well, that was probably why she liked him so much.

 

“Come with me, I have something to show you,” he ordered her, grabbing her hand, forcing her to get up and follow him. She giggled as they passed by other tourists on the ship; some smiled seeing two young people running around, clearly in love, and others just gave them a disapproving look that said they should act their age and not like two teenagers. They didn't care about anything; They were having fun.

 

Ronan led her through some narrow corridors that freaked her out for a moment because of the dim light. He looked her way over his shoulder every two seconds, making sure she was fine and was catching up with him, When he stopped, he placed his finger in front of his lips, asking her to stay quiet. She did, although she didn't know what the point of all this was, because the engine of the ship was making more noise than she could possibly do. He pushed the door in front of him open and Chantelle had to grab the rail nailed on the side of the corridor so that the air that got in abruptly, wouldn't throw her down. Ronan laughed and closed her hand in his, leading her out.

 

“Oh my God, Ronan; this so so beautiful!” she shouted, to be heard over the wind and the engine, when they stepped outside to the front of the ship. He pulled her near him, placing his hand around her waist and hid her behind a large crate so that nobody would see them. They weren't supposed to be there, but the unforbidden part was what they both loved so much. He cleared her face from her hair, placing some locks behind her ear and pushed her gently on the crate, to keep her safe, covering her body with his.

 

“Are you cold?” he asked, seeing her skin shivering. She shook her head, gasping because she had difficulty breathing. It wasn't because of the wind or the fear, it was because of him. He was the reason she couldn't breathe and why she felt dizzy and her knees trembled. He was the one that was making her feel weak and he knew it.

 

“If you're cold, we can go inside,” he suggested even though his eyes said otherwise.

 

“No, I like it here with you” she whispered, grabbing his t-shirt with both fists, forcing him to take a step closer. The wind was making her dress stick on her body like a second skin but she didn't mind because that meant she could feel his body against hers even better. Ronan bit his lip, looking at her with lust.

 

Kiss me, please kiss me,
Chantelle thought with all her strength as his hands travelled on her side, first touching her elbow with his fingertips and then caressing her waist until it rest on her hip. His tongue made a small trip on his lips and Chantelle felt she couldn't take it anymore. Neither could he. He had to kiss her before he lost his mind completely. He took a deep breath, placing his forehead on hers for a moment before his lips touched hers tenderly, for a brief moment that was enough to make her weep for more. The moment her sigh reached his ears, Ronan lost the entire world around him. There was only her and no one else. He pushed her against the crates and kissed her hard, taking her breath away. She held onto him tight, responding gladly to it, and felt his lips tasting hers before he forced her to separate her lips with his tongue. He tasted so good, so familiar because of Noah, but she loved it. The moment it stroked hers, she felt electricity flowing all over her body that was now warm thanks to his body, and his kiss, and she knew she was lost; she was his forever and ever.

 

"You won't ever hurt me, will you Ronan?" Chantelle asked,

 

"Never," Ronan said, but it was hard to tell if he was telling the truth. He pulled her in for another kiss.

 

There was no going back now. Ronan had her under his spell: he owned her, and could do whatever he wanted with her, whether she liked it or not.

 

Ronan and Chantelle both ran into their house at the end of the day, and slumped down on to the couch, breathless.

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

A TWIST OF FATE

 

"What drink will you have?" Ronan asked Chantelle, grinning.

 

"You know I don't drink," Chantelle said seductively, joining him at the mini bar of the house. She wrapped her arms around him and gazed into his eyes. "Ronan, look  how quickly we've both fallen in love," she smiled. "Let's get married."

 

Ronan began to laugh. "How can we get married?"

 

"Why not?" Chantelle asked, her arms still around him, but she was frowning.

 

"Why not?!" Ronan repeated. "Because a wedding takes a lot of preparation."

 

Chantelle detached her arms from him and resolved to standing next to him. "So ... is it that you think I don't love you, and you think I'm still in love with Noah or something?"

 

"Nope," Ronan denied, and a smirk started to form on his lips.

 

"Come on baby, stop joking!" Chantelle said, wrapping her arms around him again and kissing his lips, wanting more, just like he'd kissed her on the ship. But he didn't kiss her back. He looked truly disgusted at her.

 

Ronan pulled away from her, and began to laugh loudly. "I'm not joking," he said, as Chantelle frowned even more. "I'm serious." He walked away from her and towards the bookshelf, where he took a piece of paper out from an old, battered book. "How can I love a girl like you?" he said finally. He held the paper up in his hands, and walked towards her again. "After reading this, I don't think anyone will be prepared to marry you."

 

"What is that?" Chantelle asked, because she truly didn't know how he could hold something as little as a piece of paper against her.

 

"Your bio data," Ronan said, smirking more. Chantelle gulped and stared at the papers.

 

'Runaway girl from orphanage apprehended' was one of the bold articles, and so many terrible mistakes from her past were all outlined.

 

"From your childhood to the present day, this is what nobody has ever discovered. These names aren't your mother's or father's, because they were the ones who sent you to the orphanage, even though you weren't an orphan. Oh Chantelle, what are you going to do? When you were fifteen years old, you got up to some naughty things with the men, you committed crimes ... and then you tried to run away from the orphanage. When you got caught, you murdered the person who found you ...  Goddammit. Honestly, mate. This has all come out today when I got hold of this from that institution. Then you became a famous bar dancer, dancing on poles, and you did wrong things, you stole money, you tried to have sex with the men to get what you wanted and get them on your side, and then you tried to steal a huge load of cash and someone saw you ... you killed the poor bastard. You're a really filthy little girl, aren't you? And there's not to mention what you did next ..." Ronan laughed hardly, and then sat down on the couch. She heard him mutter the word 'whore'.

 

Chantelle collapsed on to the floor at his knees purposefully, holding them and staring at him. "Ronan, I wanted to tell you everything about me by myself, but I was too scared that I might take your heart away from you." She tried her best to find the right words to compose her sentence with.

 

"Take my heart away from me?" Ronan repeated nastily, laughing harshly. "Do you think that this file is the only evidence I have? My eyes were only actually on yours when I was drunk, the rest of it was just part of my plan..."

 

Chantelle didn't understand what Ronan meant. She sprung to her feet, and then took the glass of alcohol from Ronan's hands. She sat at the other side of the room, face to face with him, and she drank the entire contents of the glass. She'd never drank alcohol before in her life, and she'd just done it now to prove to him that she'd sacrifice anything just so that he wouldn't hold his past against her. "Now, you tell me. What do you want?" she asked in a bitchy tone.

 

"Me? I want exactly what you want. Money," Ronan said. "The property that you tightened Noah up for, that will all be done in time. But I've got a plan for something worth one hundred million dollars. If you help me out with this and take my side, I'll give you twenty million of those dollars."

 

Chantelle stared at him with interest, as one hundred million dollars was such a huge amount of money. "Where are you going to get all that money from?"

 

"The things that I hate most in life, death after death, they end up having some good uses. Me and my brother have an eighty five million dollar insurance policy ... If my brother died in an accident, then I would get one hundred million." Ronan said vaguely.

 

Chantelle laughed. "Well. Compared to you, my file is nothing. Until today, I've never met such a bastard, someone who would, for money, sacrifice his own brother." She said this in a foul voice.

 

"What's so bastard-like about this?" Ronan shot back, trying to act all innocent about it. "Noah always tells me that he loves me, and for me, he'd sacrifice his life. So I'm fulfilling him of that duty."

 

"If your plan was all set, then what was the bloody need to pretend to love me for such a long time?"  Chantelle asked him, intrigued. "I was so stupid, I thought you liked me, and on that ship ... I thought ..."

 

"You think of a lot of things, don't you?" Ronan said bitterly. He was no longer the sweet, romantic man that Chantelle had fallen in love with, now, he was a foul bastard, who showed that he didn't care about anything other than himself. "I made this fake romance because it's important that Noah thinks we've got a natural love relationship and nothing was rushed."

 

Chantelle felt a little hurt by what Ronan said, because the romance felt so real to her. She actually thought that Ronan had feelings for her. "So, what do I have to do?" Chantelle sighed, long and hard.

 

"You're going to have to marry me then, aren't you?" Ronan grinned, his face fixed with an untrustworthy look.

 

Chantelle looked shocked. There was no way that she wanted to get married to Ronan now, especially after everything that had just happened, all in a rush.

 

"Don't worry," Ronan said, interrupting her thoughts. "This wedding will be just like a business deal. It'll be nothing serious."

 

"And then?" Chantelle pushed on.

 

"First things first, baby. Are you in?" Ronan asked with a devilish smirk.

 

Slowly but surely, Chantelle nodded her head. She had nothing left to lose. "I'm in," she confirmed.

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

THE PEN

 

Noah was practising his racing on the tracks of his stud farm, as fast as he could, whilst Leonardo timed him. When he finally reached the finish line, Leonardo waddled up to him in his cowboy boots. "Exactly two minutes and seven seconds, sir," Leonardo stated matter of factly.

 

"And seven seconds," Noah repeated, his voice bitter. "I need to banish those seconds." He paused, and then continued to talk to Leonardo about a different topic. "Anyway, yesterday, I denied signing some of Jacob Hoover's papers. Can you go and discuss it with him?" Someone caught Noah's eye. "Look, he's walking over to us now." Noah indicated Jacob Hoover, who was walking towards them.

BOOK: Race
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ads

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