Don’t talk about Scott.
But he’s right in the other room. He will never forgive me.
Women had been Zane’s escape many times, but not like that. Never before had he risked one of the most important things in his life for a kiss.
It had been such a blur, Zane had left without saying so much as goodbye to Scott, asking Allison to tell him that he had a headache. She told him he was getting freaked out for nothing, but Zane knew his weakness when it came to women, and Allison was the one woman he absolutely could never have.
“Mr. Patterson? Are you sure everything is okay? Scott mentioned that you’ve been under a lot of stress.” Angelique looked at him quizzically, knocking her head to one side.
“Oh, yes. Sorry.” He shook his head in an effort to get it straight. He needed to get a grip. He and Allison had shared a kiss. It was no big deal. Scott would never know about it, and it would never happen again—end of story.
“Is there anything else you need?”
“My room key, I guess.”
“There are no keys on Rose Cove. You will enjoy more seclusion and privacy than you ever imagined. But I’m happy to have someone show you to your cottage.”
Zane picked up the map from the registration counter. “Not necessary. I think I’ve got it from here.”
“You can’t get too lost. Just stop when you reach the ocean.” Angelique winked and grinned, then waved goodbye.
Zane followed the path and the small wood signs to cottages eight and nine. As he walked under the canopy of trees, he had to remind himself that Allison was not fair game. He would be friendly and cordial. He might even spend a small bit of time with her while they were both there, but there would be no replay of that kiss. Scott was too important to him. He would not betray the bro code. Never.
Ahead, Zane could see the water and two cottages set several hundred yards away from each other, one a shade of sky blue and the other pure turquoise, each with painted white trim and a bright red roof. All around them, the powdery pink sand was a bright and summery accent, while the sun glinted off the calm crystalline sea. It could not have been a more stunning setting, and despite his worries over how he would handle the situation with Allison, Zane could feel himself unwinding, his spine loosening and his shoulders relaxing.
He opened the door to his cottage and stepped inside, his eyes immediately drawn to the stunning vista of ocean at the far end of the house. He set down the map and strolled through the open living room, which had a vaulted wood-beamed ceiling and entire wall of windows, all open and letting in the sea breezes. At center was a set of oversize French doors, which led out to Zane’s patio, covered in terra-cotta tile with an arbor above it for shade. Beyond that was his private plunge pool, surrounded by lush tropical plantings.
Not wanting to wait another minute for his vacation to start, Zane found the bedroom, which, as advertised, had an intricately carved wood bed with another beautiful view of the sea. His suitcase had been delivered by staff, and he wasted no time getting into his swim trunks, grabbing a towel from the beautifully appointed bathroom and making one more stop in the kitchen to grab a beer. He poured it into a shatterproof tumbler, and, sunglasses on, he strolled out onto the terrace and jumped into the pool.
The water was cool and exhilarating, the perfect counterpoint to the strong Bahamian sun. He slicked his hair back from his face and swam over to the edge of the pool, folding his arms up on the edge and drinking in the beautiful ocean view. As difficult as the last few weeks had been—hell, the last several years—Zane could feel that all fading away. Scott had been so right. Maybe he just needed some time to clear his head and stop thinking about Josh Lowell and Black Crescent.
Zane dropped his chin down onto the back of his hand and something caught his eye. More specifically, someone—a woman sauntering down to the water in front of the other cabin. Allison. It had to be her. She was turned away from him, but he’d have to be dead to not admire the view—her hair down the middle of her back, tawny skin set against a colorful sarong, lithe legs and bare feet. She stopped where the pink sand met the water and turned, ambling in his direction while gently swishing her feet in beautiful blue.
He wasn’t sure what to do. Call out to her? Submerge himself in icy water and try to hide for the next five days? This never, ever would have been a question if she hadn’t kissed him on Scott’s birthday. She was permanently off-limits, fruit so forbidden that he would be blowing up his entire life if he dared to go there.
Before he had a chance to formulate any sort of plan, Allison looked up and spotted him. His heart instantly began pulsing, jumping to double time when she raised her sunglasses up onto her forehead for a moment, smiled and waved. Good God, she was unfairly beautiful. And she was coming his way. He had no means of stopping this. He had to go with it and try to have a casual conversation with the sister of his best friend.
So he did what he would have done if they’d never kissed—he waved back and called her name. “Allison!”
As Allison walked up the beach toward Zane’s cottage, she could hardly believe this was really happening. How many times had she concocted some dream scenario in her head where she and Zane were alone? Too many to count. And what was unfolding before her was exactly the kind of fantasy she loved to weave—a perfect sunny day, not another
