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His brows drew down as he read the message from someone identified as ‘Ash’.
His stomach twisted into a painful knot and suddenly sexual frustration was the least of his worries, as the cruel wave of betrayal washed through him like acid.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘WOULD YOU LIKE a hand with the pancakes?’ Cassie asked, trying to sound calm and casual and totally cool.
Not easy when she felt anything but.
Especially after Luke had caught her earlier in nothing but his T-shirt and her knickers. He’d been tense and guarded and off, somehow, and what had been exciting and freeing last night—a sexual adventure to be proud of—now just made her feel exposed... And unbelievably awkward.
Still, at least she had some clothes on now. Even if they did belong to someone else. She had drawn the line at borrowing his housekeeper’s underwear, but she’d managed to find a pair of jeans and a baggy T-shirt and sweater and some boots and socks.
She’d left a thank-you note on the housekeeper’s kitchen table in the annexe, with a promise to have the clothes returned once she’d had them cleaned.
With her hair tied in a knot after she’d taken a quick shower in one of the guest bathrooms, she still felt hopelessly exposed, though. She didn’t have on any of her usual armour. She didn’t even have her make-up with her... Or a bra!
Gee, thanks, Ash.
Luke sat on a kitchen stool, his head bent over something. He hadn’t heard her offer to help—probably a good thing, she decided, seeing as she knew next to nothing about making pancakes.
She took a moment to absorb the sight of him. A sight that still had the power to stagger her.
Her breathing became ragged. Again.
She still couldn’t quite believe everything that had happened...or how immense it had seemed. That a man who looked like he did, who oozed heat and passion and sex appeal from every pore, hadn’t just noticed her,
but had seduced her so thoroughly, with such power and passion and such dedication to her pleasure as well as his own.
One thing was certain. However grumpy he might be in the mornings, Luke Broussard came into his own at night.
A small smile tilted her lips, but then wavered and flattened as she caught her reflection in the window glass and the awkwardness returned.
Unfortunately, while she looked less than her best, Luke Broussard, even in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants, looked drop-dead gorgeous. The smooth tanned skin on his bare chest and broad shoulders gleamed in the sunshine coming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, highlighting the tattoo of thorns that ringed his collarbone.
The thousand and one thoughts that had been bombarding her ever since she’d woken up that morning, to find him fast asleep beside her, her body aching and her mind a mass of confusion, began to batter her all over again.
Not one of those thoughts, though, was calm or cool or casual.
All the problems with what she’d done—what they’d done—had only increased her confusion and anxiety in the past twenty minutes, while she’d taken a shower and tried to get a handle on how to deal with the awkwardness of her first ever morning-after...
She had no doubt last night had been about chemistry and fun for Luke, but she could see now that it had been about more than that for her. And that was without even factoring in the lie she’d told him about her virginity.
She’d tried to tell herself it wasn’t a big deal. But when he’d treated her so dismissively this morning it had hurt when it really shouldn’t have. Why hadn’t she thought this through? Being stuck on an island with the guy you’d had your first ever sexual encounter with was bound to be awkward. Practicalities-wise, it was a nightmare. Not only had she been forced to borrow his housekeeper’s clothes, she couldn’t leave under her own steam. She was completely reliant on him flying her out of here.
She coughed, trying to clear the swell of anxiety from her throat.
Luke’s head lifted sharply.
What she saw on his face had her drawing in a sharp breath. This was more than impatience. Much more. His jaw was rigid with tension as he stared at her, his gaze flat and hard...
‘You’re back,’ he said.
His voice was as harsh and flat as his gaze, the husky purr which had intoxicated her all through the night gone.
‘You’ve got some explaining to do.’
The accusing words came out like brittle staccato punches, confusing her more. Until he lifted the hand he had on the counter and she spotted her smartphone.
