‘Yeah, beach’s just down there.’
The place was enormous and a little eerie, until the sound of claws scratching on wood broke the silence and a couple of excited yips were followed by the arrival of a big bundle of dirty-blonde fur that barrelled across the room towards them.
‘Hey, C.D.,’ Zane said by way of introduction as he stood Iona on her feet. ‘Meet Iona—she’s sleeping over.’
The delighted dog’s tail wagged so hard its whole body vibrated. Careering to a stop in front of them, it plunked its butt down on the floor, and panted with delight. With a ragged ear, one squinted eye, and a misshapen head that made it look like an unfortunate cross between a lab and a bulldog, it had to be one of the ugliest mutts Iona had ever seen. But as it continued to vibrate with ecstasy, its tongue hanging out of its mouth in a doggie grin, she found herself completely charmed.
‘Hello, Cookie Dough, it’s nice to meet you,’ she said, kneeling down to stroke the dog’s head. It immediately flopped onto its back, and offered its tummy for a rub, surprising a laugh out of her.
‘Great guard dog you are,’ Zane said ruefully.
‘You’re gorgeous, aren’t you, girl?’ Iona purred, already in love and undeniably touched by the fact that Zane had chosen to rescue a mongrel pup that most other people would have rejected on sight. ‘Pay no attention to him—you’re just being friendly,’ she cooed. The dog answered with a low growl of contentment as its tail thumped rhythmically on the floor.
‘All right, that’s enough, you little suck-up.’ Zane snapped his fingers. The dog rolled back onto its legs, still shaking with excitement. ‘Go on back to bed, Cooks. We’ll see you in the morning.’
Iona gave C.D. one last pat and rub, before the dog sauntered off, back to its bed in the corner of the room.
‘So that’s the infamous Cookie Dough.’ Iona chuckled. ‘Eater of shoes and drinker of toilet water. She seems very polite to me.’
‘Uh-huh, we’ll see how that works for you when she leaps onto your bed at dawn.’ Taking Iona’s hand, he led her across the room, to a wide metal staircase that curved up to the landing above. ‘Let’s find you a room. You and Cookie can get better acquainted tomorrow.’
Iona followed, her hand clasped in his, and tried not to let her disappointment show. If he wasn’t that bothered, neither was she. She struggled to keep that thought front and centre when he pushed open a door on the first landing.
He flicked on the light switch, illuminating acres of thick blue carpeting, a king-size bed made up with luxury linen and the dark deck beyond.
‘There’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom, which is through there.’ He pointed to a door on the far wall. ‘There should be towels too and anything else you need.’
She stared at the empty bed, the pillows piled high against the headboard, and heat flushed through her. She could smell him, that tantalising scent of spicy aftershave and sea air that was uniquely his—and more than anything she wanted him to climb in with her.
‘Do you need anything else?’ he asked casually.
He leaned against the doorway, his forearm propped against the frame, the cotton of his shirt stretched across that impressive chest. And she got a vision of that beautiful body naked.
Yes, you.
Her mind screamed, making the heat pound into her sex. ‘No, that’s great,’ she heard herself say. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’
His gaze lingered on her lips for the longest time. ‘C.D. usually wakes me up at dawn to take her for a run, so if I’m not here, I’ll be on the beach.’
The words sounded polite, distant, but the husky tone of his voice reverberated inside her.
How could he be so calm, so controlled? ‘Right.’
He drummed his fingers against the doorframe, then straightened and let his arm drop.
She stood, unable to relinquish eye contact, her breath catching. Lifting one hand, he skimmed a knuckle down the side of her face. She tilted her head, leaning into his touch. Then his hand clasped the back of her neck and he hauled her against him.
‘Just one more thing.’
She opened her mouth as his lips slanted across hers. Heat and awareness shot through her as his tongue delved. Firm, sure, wet and hot. The hunger built as she kissed him back, her knees shaking as if an aftershock had hit the San Andreas Fault. She flattened her palms against his waist, gripping his shirt.
A low moan issued from her lips as he pulled away.
‘Get a good night’s sleep, Iona,’ he said, the rough demand matching the dark dilated pupils. ‘I intend to keep you real busy tomorrow.’
Then he walked away, leaving her staring at his retreating back, her body battered by the need coursing through every pulse point.
‘You have got to be kidding me?’ she whispered as the sound of his footsteps disappeared down the hallway.