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‘Uh-huh.’ His dark gaze returned to her face.
‘Back off, Henry. You’re poaching.’
Ella spun round at the deep, wonderfully familiar accent—and the shot of adrenaline went into overdrive. Cooper Delaney had looked super-fit that morning in ragged denim, but he took fit to a whole new level in a dark blue polo shirt and black jeans. But then her head carried on spinning and she started to tilt.
A tanned hand shot out to grasp her upper arm and hold her upright. ‘Damn it, Henry, how many of those things have you given her?’
‘Only the one.’ The barman, who Ella’s slightly fuzzy brain had registered must be called Henry, sounded affronted.
‘Oh, yeah?’
Ella blinked, hearing the edge in Cooper’s usually relaxed tone. Was he mad about something? And what did it have to do with Henry, the benevolent barman?
Cooper slapped a couple of bills onto the bar with enough force to make her jump. ‘That’s for the rum punch, man. The lady’s with me.’
Really? Fabulous.
So she hadn’t imagined his offer of a date. The spurt of joy at the thought was quickly quashed, though, when his fingers tightened on her arm and he slanted her a look that didn’t seem particularly pleased to see her. ‘We’re out of here.’
‘But I haven’t finished my drink.’ She pivoted on her heel, making a grab for her glass. But missed as he hauled her away from the bar.
‘You’ve had enough.’
Henry shrugged and shouted after them, ‘Sorry, miz. I told you he was no good.’
‘You didn’t have to pay for that,’ she said, racing to keep up with his long strides as he marched past the tables and headed out into the night, dragging her along in his wake. ‘Henry said it was on the house.’
‘Yeah, I’ll just bet he did.’ Was that a snarl?
A succession of people called out a greeting to him or shouted across the crowd, but other than throwing back a quick wave of acknowledgement he barely broke stride. By the time they stepped off the deck and he swung her round to face him, she was breathless, the happy glow from her Swizzle fading fast.
‘Okay, let’s have it.’ His shadowed face looked harsh in the half-light from the bar as he grasped both her arms, and made full use of his superior height. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I...’ And just like that her tongue swelled up, rendering her speechless. And all Ruby’s advice about how to put her flirt on got washed away on a tidal wave of mortification.
He didn’t look remote, the way he had when they’d parted that morning. He looked upset.
She’d made a terrible mistake—coming here when he hadn’t really meant to...
‘Because if you’ve come all the way out here to give me another smackdown, don’t bother. I got the message the first time, sweetheart. Loud and clear.’
Smackdown? What smackdown?
‘I should leave,’ she blurted out, suddenly wishing that the worn floorboards of the bar’s deck would crack open and swallow her whole. Or better yet whisk her back to her nice, quiet, ocean-view room at th
e resort.
Sticking to safe might be dull, but at least it didn’t get you into these sorts of pickles. She’d never managed to piss off any of the guys she’d actually dated to this extent.
She sent a wistful glance back at The Rum Runner—the joyous dance music pumping out into the night. The lively bar had contained so many exciting possibilities less than five minutes ago. But as she stepped past him he didn’t let go.
‘Hey, hang on a minute.’ The edge had left his voice. ‘You didn’t answer my question.’
‘Was there a question in there?’ she asked.
He didn’t look mad any more, which she supposed was good.
But as his emerald gaze raked over her the focused attention made her breasts tighten. Humiliating her even more. Obviously her nipples were completely immune to his disapproval.
