There wasn’t a chance in hell she was going to sleep a wink now.
Zane slammed the bedroom door and leaned against it. He stared out at the night sky, and waited for the blood to stop pounding southwards.
Whose dumb idea was it to bring her here? And then not sleep with her?
Tugging the shirt off over his head, he wadded it up as he marched into the bathroom, and hurled it into the corner of the room.
Oh, yeah, his dumb idea.
Twisting the shower control, he guided the temperature down to frigid.
When was the last time he’d had a woman in his house, and not his bed? Never, that was when. He kicked off his shoes, dropped his pants and stepped under the spray. Then bit off the yelp as the cold water splattered his chest and hit the erection. Bracing his hand against the cubicle wall, he waited for the inferno to subside under the freezing deluge—it took a while, thanks to the succulent taste of her that lingered on his lips, and the soft sob of arousal that still echoed in his ears.
The woman was tying him in knots—tying them both in knots. She could have tonight, damn it. Because he’d promised himself this was going to be casual, and it didn’t feel that casual after the night they’d spent with his family.
But tomorrow all bets were off. He wasn’t holding back a moment longer.
He’d never been a pushy guy. Probably because he’d never had to be. But come tomorrow, that was all gonna change. She wanted him. He wanted her. End of story. She’d got back on the horse, now it was way past time for them both to enjoy the ride.
CHAPTER TEN
THE BLAST OF sunlight made Iona squirm as she opened her eyes and curled into the pillows. Yawning, she eased herself into a sitting position—and took a moment to orientate herself.
The glass wall on one side of the lavish bedroom framed a stunning view of rocks and sand and ocean as the events of the night before came tumbling back in a series of disjointed sights and sounds and scents.
The blank shock on Zane’s face as she confronted him on the dance floor. The hurt in his mother’s eyes as they left. The sense of connection that had made her chest hurt when he’d spoken about his high-school experiences, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel—and the hot, firm press of his lips that had sent her into a frenzy of longing.
Iona let a slow breath out, and sucked another one in through her teeth. No doubt about it, it had been one heck of a night.
&nb
sp; Flinging back the quilt, she climbed out of the bed and crossed the room. Placing her hand against the sun-warmed glass, she peered out. She could see the manicured lawns of a golf course in The distance, but Zane’s house stood apart—its elegant modernism in direct counterpoint to the wilder, angrier edge of the bay. The sun hovered above the horizon. Seemed she’d managed a bit more than a wink despite the distractions of that goodnight kiss.
Working the kinks out of her shoulders, she made a beeline for the bathroom.
As she treated herself to a scalding hot shower she smiled, thinking of the sunny Sunday morning—and all the hot sex they had to catch up on from the night before.
But once she’d dressed and gone downstairs, she found no sign of him, or his dog, and realised he’d probably gone to take C.D. for a walk. She stepped out onto the deck, dismissing the odd little jump in her belly at the thought of how normal, how comfortable it felt being in his home and looking forward to a lazy Sunday together.
Despite a cloudless sky and the blaze of mid-morning sunshine, a brisk ocean breeze meant she was grateful for the denim jacket. She headed down the narrow stone steps that traversed a rocky outcropping to arrive at a secluded beach framed by gnarly Monterey Cypresses that separated the lot from the one next door.
Her heart bobbed into her throat as she spotted a tall figure jogging down the beach and the bounding hound next to him. She lifted her hand to wave, took several calming breaths to still the frantic thump of her pulse as they approached.
Zane’s short hair spiked in the wind, the pair of jogging shorts speckled with water from the pounding surf. A gust of wind flattened the sleeveless sweatshirt he wore against his chest.
C.D. raced ahead to deliver an ecstatic greeting that involved launching herself at Iona, planting two huge sandy paws onto her tummy and nearly toppling her backwards onto her butt.
‘Down, Cookie.’ Zane’s succinct command had the dog plopping heavily onto her backside. Iona grinned at the overgrown puppy and its expression of goofy enthusiasm, glad to be distracted from the silly swell of emotion at seeing Zane again.
‘Sorry about that,’ Zane said, picking up a piece of driftwood. ‘We’re still working on polite introductions.’
‘That’s okay. No harm done,’ Iona said, wiping the last of the wet sand off her dress. Was it her imagination or did he sound a little tense too?
Zane lobbed the driftwood towards the tumbling surf. ‘Go fetch, Cooks.’
C.D. gave an excited howl, before racing after the stick, arrowing her body into the shallows.
Iona pushed out a laugh. ‘That’s brave. It must be freezing.’