Against All Odds

Chapter 39

Fifteen Hours Later

STELLA

I was in a snit.

Stomping past the lush entrance to the resort and ignoring the polite, friendly greetings from staff, I marched directly to the check-in desk.

"Stels, you're making a scene."

I gritted my teeth, feeling that annoying molar I needed to tend to crunch disconcertingly at the back of my mouth. His voice served only to make my skin prickle with unease and something else, Killian's footsteps slow and even as he trailed in my wake.

He wasn't supposed to be here.

He wasn't supposed to be waiting at the transfer desk at Velana International Airport where a speedboat was assigned and ready to jet us off to the island where the resort was located. His name definitely wasn't supposed to be emblazoned on a neat placard with fancy lettering, right beside mine, displayed prominently at arrivals for all to see.

My stomach had somersaulted at the sight, the realisation and truth of the situation landing heavily on my chest with the weight of a crushing boulder. I felt winded, floored, floundering for stable ground and enough oxygen as my world tilted and spun off its axis.

I ground to a halt at the counter, dumping my sad-looking backpack on top, and forced a grim smile on my lips before I summoned the ability to address the turquoise-liveried reception clerk. "Stella Huxley, checking in."

The woman smiled amiably, greeting me with a warm cheerfulness I certainly did not feel right then, and began tapping away at her keyboard once she had acquired my passport.

Behind me, Killian moved and came to lean at the other check-in desk to my right where an equally friendly and happy man attended him.

I was steadfast in my efforts to ignore my dorky ex who wasn't nearly as disturbed by this turn of events as I was.

He should be more affected.

I certainly was.

It felt as if my heart was about to fly from my chest and evacuate the premises, entirely done with the ordeal it had been through over the last week.

I had figured the flight would be the last I would hear or see of Killian. If somebody had told me that he was set to stay at the exact same resort as me, I would have laughed in their face. While I was reeling with my absurd reality, the clerk gave me a beatific smile and slid the keycard towards me.

"I am pleased to inform you that you'll be in the overwater bungalow suite 808 for the duration of your stay with us, Miss Huxley," she said before adding a colourful flyer beside the key. "Here you'll find a map of the resort, a list of our restaurant and bars, and activities you can enjoy during your stay. Please dial 101 from your room phone should you need anything from our concierge desk."

"Thanks," I mumbled, sliding my backpack onto my aching shoulder once more and then plucking the keycard and flyer from the top of the counter.

"Our porters are waiting with your luggage in one of the carts outside to take you to your room," she informed me, making a gesture to the entrance of the resort. "I hope you enjoy your stay at Kurumba Sea and Sand Exclusive Luxury Resort."

I nodded absently, turning towards the entrance where a white golf cart was waiting with a smiling, uniformed porter. God, why was everyone so damn happy here?

"Stella, wait!"

I desperately wanted to ignore Killian and a brief glance of the flyer told me that the resort was large- large enough for me to avoid him, hopefully. But I caught the same, rehearsed spiel from his own check-in clerk that made my spine lock and my feet cement into the glistening, polished tile of the reception foyer.