Page 24

The music pounds from the speakers, and I can feel the beat in my feet. We’ve been on the dance floor for a while, and it’s late. The marquee is hot and overcrowded, so now we’re doing less dancing and more leaning against each other, our arms around each other’s waist. I nestle into Levi’s neck, inhaling the scent of his woodsy cologne mixed with a faint trace of sweat. It’s a sexy smell and I push harder against him.

He lowers his hands to the upper curve of my arse, pulling me even closer. I reluctantly move away from my resting place and look up to find him smiling at me.

He looks rumpled and sexy and mine, so I kiss him and kiss him again. His arms tighten and I pull back and grin at him. “I don’t wish to seem unromantic on our honeymoon, but I’m knackered. I don’t think I’ve got a shag in me tonight.”

He starts to laugh and hugs me. “I know,” he breathes into my ear. “I’m so relieved you said that.”

“It’s the truth,” I say sagely.

He’d got back from his run this afternoon to find me spread-eagled across the bed with the bottle of lube in my hand. His eyes had darkened and he’d fallen on me like a dog with a bit of steak. A storm rolled in, and we spent the afternoon in a dim bedroom, our bodies rocking and rolling across the bed. We were insatiable. As soon as we stopped, one of us would start it again, and it had seemed like some sort of fever dream.

Now I’m loose, limber, and sore with a lovely ache in my arse. And thirsty. “Shall we get a drink?” I shout.

He grabs my hand and pulls me through the crowd to the bar, where we get a couple of beers.

It’s been a good night. The DJ is good—a local lad who’s apparently famous in Ibiza. The food’s been plentiful, and Levi and I have stuffed ourselves. We’re really going to have to go food shopping tomorrow, though. Man cannot live on gatecrashing end-of-season parties.

The wind hits us when we step outside. It’s fresh on my hot face and body, but bears the chill of oncoming winter, and after a few seconds, I shiver and quickly pull on my jumper that had been tied around my waist. Levi does the same with his own hoodie.

He wanders across the sand looking around, and I follow, unable to hide my smile. He’s like a pigeon looking for somewhere to roost. Eventually he finds the spot he deems the best and sits down on the sand. I’m not sure why this is any different from any other spot on the beach, but I’m always happy to let Levi do his thing. When I sit in front of him, his legs come around mine, his spare hand on my shoulder. I’m caged in warmth and Levi, and I nestle back against him and give a happy sigh.

The beach is pretty—a stretch of sand as pale as sugar. As I watch spumes of water eject from waves hitting rock, something stirs in my brain. The moment I try to grab the thought, it vanishes. I’ve had the feeling all afternoon and evening that I’m forgetting something important. It’s aggravating—like having something in your teeth that you can’t get out.

“There you are.”

We both look around to see Jax approaching us. I hide my smile by taking another pull at my beer. He apparently works in the cafe near the cottage, and he’s got a very obvious crush on my bloke. He’s so eager and charming that I can’t bring myself to be bothered, though.

“Hey, Jax,” Levi says, his face as sweet as ever.

Jax pauses, taking in our bodies tangled together so closely. “Is it okay for me to join you?”

“Depends where you’re joining us,” I drawl and wince as Levi pinches me.

“Of course it’s okay,” Levi says. “I wanted to ask you something anyway.”

I roll my eyes. “Levi, for shame. We’re on our honeymoon. Isn’t one man enough for your insatiable appetite?”

He gives a beleaguered sigh. “If I live to be a hundred, I will never become the rake that you have in your mind.”

“Try,” I advise him, and he laughs.

Jax settles next to us on the sand, his face turned to the sea, his keen eyes watching the water and evaluating the tide. Then he turns to us. “So, what did you want to ask me?”

Levi doesn’t answer right away, and I turn my head to look up at him. When he doesn’t meet my gaze, my interest sharpens.

“You said the cottage was haunted?” Levi finally asks.

“What?”

Levi offers me a wry look.

“Yeah,” Jax says. “It’s supposed to be.” His response is light and easy, given what he’s just said. I suppose it makes sense, as he’s not the one in danger from the spirit world.

“Haunted by what?” I ask, sitting up a little straighter.

He shrugs. “No one’s said as far as I know. It used to be called Smuggler’s Rest, you know. Not Gorse Cottage. I don’t know why they changed the name. There isn’t so much of a sniff of gorse at that place.”

Levi chuckles. “I prefer the original name.”