He wanted to show her that she was worth everything.
‘There’s no one in the world I’d rather be stranded in paradise with.’ He’d meant it as a joke, something to lighten the mood, but it didn’t come out that way. Instead, it came out serious, heavy with meaning. The words reverberated around his chest, surrounding his heart, filling him with a feeling he couldn’t quite identify. And from the way Zoey bit her lower lip, she felt it too.
‘Me either,’ she whispered, her gaze never leaving his for a moment.
And then...then it was as if his mind shut down altogether and his body took over. Or maybe, maybe it was his long-ignored heart.
All Ash knew was that suddenly he was kissing Zoey Hepburn. And it was glorious.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE STORM HAD STOPPED.
As Zoey raised her aching head from her pillow, the first thing she noticed was the lack of rain hammering on the roof and windows. The second was the blazing sunlight that was making her eyeballs throb.
The third was that her pillow wasn’t a pillow.
Oh, I’ve really done it this time.
Her head hurt too much to process the sight of Ash Carmichael lying beneath her, a rough towel draped across his hips and the rest of him probably—definitely—naked.
Naked. Her best friend was naked.
And, oh, hell, so was she.
Okay, this might be her biggest screw-up yet. Forget running out on multiple fiancés. This was the act that was going to send her to hell.
She had slept with Grace’s husband. Her body, through the whisky hangover, was very sure about that much, at least. And as she sat, stunned, looking down at the perfection of his torso, the sweep of his dark eyelashes against his pale cheeks, his tousled black hair, all sorts of other memories started coming back.
Memories that made her chest tight and her cheeks red.
Memories that, under literally any other circumstances, would be very fond ones. Ones to relive in private, later. Ones to keep her warm on cold winter nights.
As it was...
‘Oh, hell, I slept with Grace’s husband,’ she whispered, then clapped a hand over her mouth to try and keep from waking him. The last thing she needed was an awake and alert Ash before she’d figured out what the hell she was going to do next.
Grabbing the second towel they’d been using as a blanket, which had been thrown aside at some point during the night—she wasn’t thinking about which point—Zoey wrapped it tightly around herself and tucked in the ends so it covered everything important. Somewhere, her pink dress must be lying abandoned, but even if she could find it Zoey wasn’t sure how she could ever wear it again without remembering Ash stripping it from her body with long, capable fingers...
No. She wasn’t thinking about that.
She was thinking about how to fix this.
Zoey paced to the window, rested her sore head against the cool glass and tried to focus.
This was a mistake. They must both know that, surely. And when Ash woke up he’d be embarrassed and confused, just like she was. They’d laugh about it, put it all down to the whisky and the drama of the storm, then they’d make a pact never to mention it again. Easy.
Except not mentioning it wasn’t the same as forgetting.
And she knew all too well that the whisky wasn’t responsible for what had happened last night. Not on her part, anyway.
She’d wanted him—wanted Ash to kiss her, to touch her, to make love to her, long before the whisky had taken effect. Alcohol had just given her brain permission to take what she wanted—had helped her forget all the reasons she shouldn’t.
Guilt swamped her, heavy as a raincloud fit to burst. It wasn’t just Grace she’d betrayed, it was her friendship with Ash too. Never mind that Grace was dead. Sleeping with Ash now...it undermined everything they’d had before. Suddenly, she couldn’t look back at all those happy memories of the three of them without wondering if the lust and passion of last night was lurking there too, under the surface.
If she’d always been thinking of this, planning it even, all along—however subconsciously.
Had she?
She didn’t think so. But then, she’d never have thought she’d sleep with Ash at all, let alone the night before she was supposed to marry someone else.