Some Kind of Wonderful (Puffin Island 2)

“I’ll get a cab.” She fumbled with her seat belt, stood up and caught her foot in the strap of her purse in her haste to get away from him. Without her right hand to save her she would have fallen, but Zach shot out his arm and caught her around the waist.

She fell against him, her good hand planted in the middle of his chest and her thighs pressed against the hardness of his.

It was as if fate were trying to torture her.

She heard him mutter something under his breath, felt the strength of his arm and the warmth and pressure of his hand on the dip of her waist. In that instant there was no space between them. With anyone else she would have laughed it off as nothing more than an embarrassingly clumsy moment, but Zach wasn’t just anyone and she was a million miles from laughing. It was impossible not to notice that her body fitted against his perfectly. They molded together as if they’d been designed to custom fit and she felt a dizzy excitement she’d only ever felt when she was near him. Desire ran through her like liquid fire, sexual heat so intense she was afraid she might burn up right there and then. If the fuel tanks were full, it was likely she’d take the airplane with her. She had no idea how something so wrong could feel so right.

“Sorry. Clumsy seems to be my middle name.” Without meeting his eyes, she eased away from him and stooped to pick up her bag. Her legs were liquid. So were her insides.

She didn’t dare look at him. She didn’t need to know if he was feeling what she was feeling.

What she needed was to get out of here as fast as possible.

She called Emily again as she walked down the steps to the tarmac, the phone almost slipping from her fingers as she willed her friend to answer.

Pick up, pick up, pick up.

The phone went to voice mail again.

“My car is parked here.” His tone was level. If he’d felt what she had felt, then he wasn’t showing it. “I just need a few minutes and then I’ll take you.”

“No need. I’ll call Pete.” Pete drove one of the island cabs and Brittany had known him since she was a child.

“The ferry just docked. Pete will be busy. I can get you home faster.”

There was no logical reason why a woman who was supposedly indifferent to him would refuse.

Ten minutes, she told herself. Ten minutes, and she wouldn’t invite him in.

“Thanks. I’ll wait by the car while you do whatever it is you need to do.”

She waited, bathed in sunshine and her own sinful thoughts.

When he finally joined her, she noticed that he’d slid on sunglasses.

She did the same.

She didn’t look at him.

He didn’t look at her.

Neither of them spoke during the short journey to Shell Bay, but the silence created more tension than words would have done.

By the time Zach pulled up outside her cottage, Brittany was contemplating plunging fully clothed into the Atlantic to cool off.

“Goodbye, Zach. Thank you.” She was out of the car the moment it stopped, running for the sanctuary of Castaway Cottage.

ZACH GRIPPED THE WHEEL. Ahead of him waves crashed onto the rocks that guarded the soft curve of Shell Bay, and to his right lay the cottage.

And Brittany.

She’d closed the door in his face, and that was after she’d done just about everything to try to avoid being in the car with him.

Ignoring the part of his brain that said this was a bad idea, he walked up to the door of the cottage. He didn’t bother knocking because he knew she wouldn’t answer. Instead he took a chance that she hadn’t locked the door.

She hadn’t, and he stepped into the hall just as she emerged from the kitchen to investigate the noise.

Her eyes widened. “More breaking and entering?”