by Karen Booth
Allison closed up her sarong and rose from her seat. “Fair warning. You might go home incredibly satisfied.” She patted him on the shoulder. “From my cooking. It’s really good.”
CHAPTER THREE
Zane’s entire body was humming when Allison left, which left his brain running at a clip to catch up. If Scott knew what was going through Zane’s head right now and how that all centered on his little sister, he would end him. It wouldn’t be a quick death. It would be a long, painful one, during which Scott would drive home a single point—Allison was off-limits. Always had been. Always would be.
But here on a dot of an island, more than a thousand miles away from his best friend, Zane couldn’t deny his churning thoughts or the insistent pulse of electricity in his body. The second Allison’s sarong fell open to reveal the tops of her luscious thighs, the soft plane of her stomach and that little spot on her hip where the tie of her bikini bottoms sat, all bets were off. Or most of them, at least. He’d withstood an unholy rush of blood to the center of his body, so fierce that it nearly knocked him off his feet. Thinking about it was only providing an opportunity to put a finer point on the things he’d wanted to do to her—drop to his knees, start at her ankle and kiss every inch of her lovely leg, moving north until he reached the bow at her hip. The only thing that would make sense if he ever got that far would be to tug at the string, quite possibly with his teeth, slowly untie it and use his mouth to leave her curling her fingers into his scalp and calling out his name.
Thoughts like that were going to ruin Zane and everything he held dear.
He stalked into his cottage and opened the fridge, if nothing but for the blast of cold air against his overheated skin. It didn’t help. It somehow made everything worse—another bodily conflict to endure as the shot of coolness mixed with the balmy salt air—everything on this island felt good. Too good. He popped open another beer and took a swig, but dammit, it was only a pleasing jolt of sweet and bitter, a shock of frothy cold followed by a wave of warmth that made him pleasantly dizzy. The erection he’d tried so desperately to fight off was now at a full salute, begging for attention and hungry for release.
There was only one way to get past this, and it didn’t involve an icy shower. He couldn’t wash away Allison’s effect on him. He had to get past it. He stormed off to his bedroom, shucked his clothes and stretched out on the magnificent bed. The linens were smooth and impossibly soft against his skin, another pleasure he didn’t relish, but this was the only way to keep himself from doing something foolish later tonight when he saw Allison. It was time to take matters—namely, his erection—into his own hands.
He didn’t bother with seduction, reaching down and wrapping his fingers around his length. He closed his eyes and allowed himself the luxury of visions of Allison—glossy hair framing those deep, soulful eyes, plump lips and a smile that could turn ice to a puddle. Her shapely legs and curvy hips. Her luscious breasts. He took long strokes with his hand, imagining kissing her again, except there was no stopping this time. He started things, and she turned up the volume, their tongues winding, mouths hot and wet and hungry for more.
The tension in his body built, but coiled tighter, a push and pull he wouldn’t be able to take for long. To edge himself closer, he conjured an illusion of Allison naked and the feeling of her body on top of him, holding him down with her warmth and softness. He imagined being inside her—the closeness, the heat—and her heady sweetness perfuming the air as he brought her to her peak. With that thought, the pressure was released and he arched his back, riding out the waves of pleasure. His breath hitched in a sharp inhale, then came out in a long rush of relief. He settled back on the pillow and slowly pried his eyes open, not to the sight of Allison but to the white painted ceiling and whirring fan overhead. He turned and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. He had four hours until dinner. Hopefully this solo rendezvous had prepared him. Now to shower, read a few chapters of a book, take a nap and hope that he could keep his libido in check.
Five minutes before six, Zane headed to Allison’s cottage, dressed in jeans and a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He carried his flip-flops and walked barefoot through the sand, which was still warm from the day’s rays. Over the water, the sun was dipping lower, painting the sky in vibrant shades of pink and orange. It was so obvious and easy to say, but Rose Cove really was paradise. He didn’t want to leave anytime soon. Having distance from his past and from Joshua Lowell? Amazing. If it weren’t for Scott, and Zane’s company, he might never go back to Falling Brook.
He found himself taking his time as he strolled across the beach, now approaching Allison’s. She had every window and door flung open, allowing him to watch her in the kitchen, milling about. He really hoped she wasn’t going to put the full-court press on him tonight, and that her only intention was for the two of them to spend a few hours together. It was time to leave The Kiss where it belonged—in the past. Their circumstances did not allow for him to ever go there again. One thing he’d learned when his parents lost every penny of the family’s money to Black Crescent and Joshua Lowell’s father was that the sooner you learned to accept your personal situation and deal with what you had in front of you, the better.
“Knock, knock,” Zane said, standing at the French doors to Allison’s cottage. “I brought a bottle of wine, but I can’t really take credit for it. Your aunt stocked my fridge.”
Allison turned and smiled, looking fresh-faced and sun kissed, wearing a swishy black skirt and a royal blue tank top. Her feet were again bare and her hair was up in a high ponytail. There wasn’t a single made-up thing about her, and that made her perfect, however much he wished he hadn’t noticed. She’s your best friend’s little sister. Don’t be an idiot. It was his new mantra. He committed himself to repeating it over and over until it became part of his psyche.
“I’m glad you came.” She took the wine from him and carried it straight to the kitchen counter. No kiss on the cheek hello. No hug.
Zane was relieved, even if there was something in his body that was registering as disappointment. “Well, you know, I had so many invitations, I wasn’t sure what to do.” He took a seat at the kitchen island, with a view of the cooktop, where something delicious-smelling was simmering away.
Allison laughed, then handed him the corkscrew. “Here. Make yourself useful.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He got up and opened the bottle, then took the liberty of finding the wineglasses, which was easily done since this kitchen had the exact layout of his own. “To friends.” He offered her a glass and held up his own for the toast.
“Yes. To friends.” She took a sip, hardly looking at him at all.
He wondered if he’d been too standoffish earlier. He only wanted to keep things in a place where nobody got hurt. He didn’t want to lose all of the warmth between them. Just some of it. Keep things friendly, but not too friendly. “Have you seen any of the other guests on the island at all?” he asked.
She shook her head and lifted the lid off a pot. “I haven’t. Angelique stopped by and told me that a few people canceled their reservations because there’s talk of a hurricane.”
“That’s what you were talking about with Scott, isn’t it?” This didn’t sit well with Zane. It would be just his luck that the weather would go bad and ruin his idyllic vacation. Worse than that, they were sitting ducks if a bad storm came through.
“Don’t worry. Both Angelique and Hubert said this happens all the time. The forecasts are often wildly inaccurate, and the models have the storm going any number of directions.” Allison gestured outside with a nod. “Look at that sunset. There’s no way a storm is coming.”
He stole a glance, even though he’d been admiring it minutes earlier. “You’re probably right.”
“You need to relax, Zane. The whole point of being here is to unwind. Dinner is just about ready.”
Zane had thought
he was relaxed. Apparently not. “What are we having?”
“A conch ceviche with lime and fresh chilies to start, then baked crab with rice and pigeon peas. All my mom’s family recipes.”
“That’s why it smells so amazing. It makes me think of your mom and being at your house.”
“Of course. She must have made this for you one of the times you stayed with us.” Allison spooned the ceviche into two small dishes and sprinkled fresh herbs on top.
“That seems like forever ago.” Being with Allison while memories of time with her family surfaced had Zane wedged between nostalgia and the pain of that period of his life. It was about so much more than the financial struggle. The real misery had come from watching his parents’ marriage fall apart before his very eyes. Allison was a reminder of both things he cherished and things he wished had never happened, which he knew was part of the reason every sense was heightened around her. “You were just a girl then. How old were you when we met? Thirteen?”
She cast him a disapproving look. “I’m all for memory lane, but can we not talk about me as an awkward teenager?”
“Why? You were the coolest kid I ever met. You had the best taste in music. You were always reading all of these books I’d never heard of. You totally had your own fashion sense. You’d wear those flowery dresses and black Doc Martens boots. Or T-shirts with bands I’d never heard of.”
Allison blushed and tried to hide a smile. “Will you please shut up? It’s embarrassing.”
Zane couldn’t help but love that they had this history and that he could have playfully tease her because of it. She’d always had a tough outer shell, carrying herself with an air of disaffection. She wanted the world to think that she didn’t care what anyone thought of her, but Zane had long suspected that wasn’t quite the case. “It’s the truth. That was the first thing that struck me about you. You always had an amazing sense of self. I’m not sure I ever did.”
“I think you’ve always known exactly who you are. The problem is that you weren’t always happy about it.”
For a moment, the air in the room seemed to stand still. Was that his problem? Or was it that the wounds inflicted by the Lowell family had been so slow to heal? “Well, if that’s the case, it’s only because I’m pretty easy to figure out. Feed me and I’m happy.” He smiled, hoping to lighten the mood. He’d never intended to steer them down such a serious path.
“Then I’m your girl.” She held up the two dishes of ceviche.
Zane swallowed hard, and not because the food was so mouthwatering. He was reading too much into everything Allison did and said. And it was going to be his undoing if he wasn’t careful. Again, he reminded himself to relax. He was more than capable of enjoying a beautiful home-cooked meal with an old friend. “Should we eat out on the patio?”
“Whatever and wherever you want.”
* * *
Allison had to hand it to herself—dinner was incredible. Her mom and Aunt Angelique would be proud.
Zane sat back in one of the lounge chairs out on the patio, rubbing his belly and gazing up at the stars. “That was unbelievable. I don’t think I’m going to need to eat again anytime soon.”
“You went back for seconds. I’m impressed.”
He turned and smiled at her, and, even in the darkness, with only the faint light from inside the house, she was struck by just how damn handsome he was—kissable lips, stormy eyes and the smile of a heartbreaker. The sight of him made her breath catch in her throat in a painfully familiar way. It was exactly like every other time she’d tormented herself with the conscious thought of how perfect he was. “Like I said, feed me and I’m happy. You fed me so well, I’d have to say I’m euphoric.”
It was reassuring to know she could do this much right, but this entire evening had too many echoes of the past—the friendship was there between them, but she wanted more. She would always want more. The itch to be with him would never go away unless she had the chance to scratch it. “Any interest in working off that meal tomorrow?” She knew that there was a little too much innuendo in the wording of her question, but it was meant to be a test.
“What’d you have in mind?” He returned his sights to the night sky, not taking the chance to flirt with her.
Any other woman might be deterred or discouraged, but Allison hadn’t come this close to give up now. She would forge ahead with her suggestion and keep the ball in his court. “Snorkeling. If we hike around to the north side of the island, the water and fish are unbelievable. If we’re lucky, we’ll see sea turtles, too. We can swim out right from the beach.”
He was doing that thing with his tongue and his lower lip again, driving her crazy in the process. “Yeah. Cool. That sounds fun. What time?”
Allison wanted to spend the entire day with him, and the sun would be too strong by midday to spend too much time in the water. “Morning is best if you can haul your butt out of bed. Nine o’clock?” Just then, her phone rang. Out of habit, she’d brought it with her out onto the patio. She glanced at the caller ID and knew she had to take it. She didn’t want to interrupt her evening with Zane, but this was one of her Black Crescent candidates, someone she’d been trading phone calls with for a few days. “I’m so sorry. I need to get this. You can go if you want to. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” She scrambled up out of her seat and pressed the button to answer the call. “Hello? Ryan?”
“Hi, Ms. Randall. I’m so glad I reached you,” Ryan Hathaway answered.
“Me, too. I’ve been waiting to talk to you.” Allison shuffled off into the house, but something stopped her from going too far—Zane’s hand on her bare shoulder. She froze, but only because that one touch was making her head swim. The power he had over her was immense. If anything ever did happen between them, she might burst into flames.
“Hey. I thought we were having a nice night.” Zane glanced at the phone. “Now I feel like you’re blowing me off for someone else.”
Allison raised the receiver back to her ear. “Ryan, can you hold on for one minute? I need to take care of something.”
“Sure thing,” Ryan replied.
“Thank you. I promise it’ll only be a minute.” She pressed the mute button on the screen. “We were having a nice night, but all good things must come to an end, right?” She didn’t want to brush off Zane, but this call was incredibly important. Not just for her, either. Kianna was counting on her.
“Well, yeah, but you’re also the one who was talking a big game to your brother about relaxing and unwinding while you’re here. I turned off my phone completely. It’s back at my place.”
“This is work, okay?” The realization hit her hard. It wasn’t merely work. This was Black Crescent, and Zane might never forgive her if he found out she was working for them. The decision to pursue business with BC had been easy enough to rationalize when Zane was living on the opposite side of the country. After all, it had been fifteen years since Vernon Lowell took off with all that money, and the current powers that be at BC were not like him. But now that she and Zane were inches away from each other, and her mind had been flooded with memories since seeing him, she understood just how betrayed he might feel if he discovered the truth.
“It’s nine thirty at night.”
“I know. My work calls happen at odd times sometimes. I’m sorry, but I really need to take this. So you can either stay or go, but I need a few minutes.”
Zane nodded, but seemed entirely suspicious. “Cool. I’ll clean the kitchen while you talk.”
Dammit. Allison knew there was no way she could talk to Ryan with Zane in the same room, and she ran the risk of him joining her if she went back out to the patio. “Great. I’ll take the call in my bedroom.” Without further explanation, she ducked into her bedroom and closed the door. “Ryan. I’m so sorry.”
“No problem, Ms. Randall.”
“Please. Call me Allison.”
“Okay, Allison. I’ve rearranged my schedule so I can be back in Falling Brook for the interview next week. I’ll get in the night before.”
Allison loved how prepared and thorough Ryan was. “Perfect. And you’re sure you’re okay with the idea of working for this company in particular?” She highly doubted that Zane might be listening at her door, but she still hoped hard that he wasn’t. It hadn’t been her intention to hurt Zane when she’d taken the BC gig. She was trying to save her company.
“I am. I know the history. It’s pretty crazy all of the stuff that happened with the Lowell family, and of course I hate that Vernon Lowell ruined so many families. But maybe that’s why they need somebody like me at the helm.”
“That’s a great attitude to have. They’ve really put that past behind them and are focused on the future. This job is the chance of a lifetime. No one ever imagined the CEO position could go to someone outside the family.” Allison sucked in a deep breath, amazed she’d managed to keep herself from uttering the name Joshua Lowell.
“I agree. It’s an excellent opportunity. I’m excited to interview and I’m excited to finally meet you in person, too.”
“Sounds great. I’m in the Bahamas right now visiting family, but I’ll see you in Falling Brook next week. Good night, Ryan.”
“Have a wonderful vacation. Good night.”
Allison ended the call and for a moment, stared at the back of her bedroom door. She felt as though she were teetering on the edge of a cliff. The Black Crescent account was crucial to the success of her company, and she’d promised Kianna she would nail this first assignment BC had given them. But she also knew firsthand the damage inflicted by BC, and exactly how Zane would feel if and when he found out that she was working for them. This absolutely put a wrench in her romantic hopes, but she reminded herself that Zane would never be a long-term thing. He wanted the physical parts and none of the emotional entanglements. Yes, she was risking their friendship, but, in her experience, those things could be mended. If needed, she could get Scott to talk Zane off the ledge, tell him that the Black Crescent thing was just business. Surely a friend could understand that.
