‘It definitely was,’ Ash agreed. He could never have predicted they’d end up here. But now they were, he couldn’t imagine how things could be any different. How he could ever get back to looking at Zoey and only seeing a friend.
What had changed the way he saw her? He wasn’t even sure. But he had a feeling it had something to do with the way she’d looked at him in that damn cupboard and told him to get her out of there.
Suddenly, it had been the two of them against the world. And that had felt...right.
Zoey was still talking. God, where was his focus today?
Still in bed with Zoey Hepburn.
‘And I get that we need to talk about it,’ Zoey went on as he forced himself to tune back in. This was important. ‘So I figure we should probably get that over and done with before we head back to the hotel.’
Over and done with. Well, that was a telling phrase. Ash felt his spirits sink as he realised what she was doing.
She was going to try and brush the whole night under the carpet. Talk about it and then pretend it never happened. And he could understand why, really he could. It wasn’t exactly the best timing, or the ideal circumstances. But he knew how not talking about things could fester.
Ash tried to live without regrets these days. And while he certainly wasn’t going to regret making love to Zoey Hepburn—how could he, when it had been the best thing to happen to him in two long years?—Ash knew that if they didn’t resolve things properly between them now, he’d regret that later.
He looked back at the boat again. It wasn’t in bad shape, considering the battering it had taken in the wind. But he was no expert. It would probably be reckless and irresponsible to try to sail it back now, with the winds still so high, right?
Wiping his hands on the towel he held, he tossed it back into the boat carelessly and smiled. ‘Well, then, the good news is we have all the time we need to talk. The boat took a real beating in the storm. Better to wait until I can contact someone to come out and pick us—and it—up safely, I think. Don’t you?’
Zoey’s eyes went wide at the suggestion and she stammered her way through an agreement. ‘Uh, right. Yeah. Sure. I guess.’
‘So? Do you want to talk in the villa or shall we take a walk on the beach?’ he asked, still smiling easily. He didn’t want to spook her any more than necessary.
The way she glanced over at the villa then shook her head told him all he needed to know. She wasn’t ready to return to the scene of the crime just yet. Or maybe she was worried about what they’d be tempted to do, alone in there.
He didn’t blame her. Just the idea of it had his blood heating and images of her naked in his arms filling his brain.
Ash swallowed. ‘Beach it is, then.’
* * *
Yeah, the villa was not a good idea.
It wasn’t that Zoey didn’t trust Ash there. She didn’t trust herself. Just one kiss from him last night and she’d been clawing his clothes off. Blaming the whisky or the adrenaline or whatever didn’t change the truth, now she’d acknowledged it to herself.
She wanted him.
But she couldn’t let herself have him.
That way lay a broken heart, for certain.
She’d always been the runner before, but this time she knew she wouldn’t be able to outrun her feelings for Ash if she let herself fall any deeper. He couldn’t give her what she craved—a happy marriage, a happily-ever-after. And she couldn’t ask him for it either.
He’d given it once, to the person who she’d loved most in the whole world.
It wasn’t hers to want.
So she wouldn’t.
It had been one night. One stupid night. And that was what it would stay.
Which meant she needed to get them both firmly back on friendship ground again. Quickly.
It would have been easier back in the real world—although there she’d have had her ex-fiancé and both their families to deal with first. So maybe this was for the best.
However tempting it was to just drag him back to the villa...
No. Focus on the friendship.
They strolled back along the beach she’d explored that morning but this time, less preoccupied with her own thoughts, Zoey noticed more signs of the storm. Palm leaves strewn over the sand, some wood she assumed the builders had been using for the villa had blown out and got stuck in a palm tree. Plants were reduced to sticks, and she could see signs where the waves had crashed far higher than usual, hitting parts of the island usually safe from the sea’s ravages.