I gave a disdainful sniff. “I believe you promised to share your plans for tomorrow once I was dressed.”
He caught my arm and tugged me closer. “The house is up for sale—”
“She’s selling? That can’t be a good thing.”
“And maybe she simply wants a smaller house,” Trae said, amusement in his eyes. “Trust me, she’s not living in some little beach shack.”
“Maybe.” But I couldn’t help feeling that it did mean something. Or was that simply my pessimistic half coming to the fore again, and refusing to believe anything could actually go right for a change?
“So her selling the house helps us how?”
“You and I are going to play newlyweds doing a little house hunting.” His lips were so close to mine his breath teased my lips with warmth. “Think you can manage that?”
I snuggled closer, pressing my hips against his, even as I pursed my lips. “I don’t know. That could take more acting skills than I’ll possess tomorrow.”
“What can I do to convince you it’ll be worthwhile?”
He dropped a kiss first on my left cheek, then on my right, and finally on the tip of my nose. Frustration and warmth shivered through me.
“You could stop teasing and just get down to business.”
“That depends on what you mean by business.” His blue eyes were bright with mischief and desire and something else, something that seemed to fire right through my soul, setting it alight.
“Will you just kiss me, idiot?”
He took possession of my lips even before the last word left my mouth, taking them, tasting them. Claiming them in a way that was all male, all possession, all desire. No one had ever kissed me like that. No one. Walking into the sea tonight might have felt like a homecoming, but in very many ways, so did this kiss.
And for all that I kept saying that I couldn’t afford to get more involved with this man than I already was, I couldn’t force myself to break away, either. I needed this man’s kiss, his taste, his closeness, almost as much as I had needed the sea earlier.
A sharp buzzing ripped through the silence, breaking our kiss, making me jump and my heart race. Trae swore and instantly turned off the flashlight, plunging us into darkness.
“What was that?” I said, my voice a strained whisper.
“The early warning system.” He moved quickly but silently across to the window. “Someone’s broken the beam.”
I peered over his shoulder. The night was dark and the only thing that seemed to be moving were the tree branches, tugged about by the sharpening breeze.
And yet . . .
Was that a darker shape near the gate? Was it a car, or just my overwrought imagination?
I squinted, but couldn’t make it out clearly enough. It was simply too far away.
“Could a cat or dog have set the alarm off?”
He shook his head. “I set it higher up the post so that wouldn’t happen.” He looked at me. “Gather all the food. We’re getting out of here.”
I spun around and walked back to the bench. After sweeping the food into several plastic bags, I grabbed the laptop and the discarded T-shirt.
“Okay, got everything.”
“I hid the car round the back of the property, near a broken part of the fence—”
“You really do believe in always being prepared, don’t you?”
“A good thief always has his escape routes planned.” He glanced at me, eyes bright and dangerous. “Take the path along the cliff top and follow it until you reach the fence line. The car is hidden in the trees a hundred or so yards from there.”
“And what will you be doing?”