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Or it might have had something to do with the fact he’d already been out here and wouldn't have to worry about his nice villa getting trashed by a pair of boozed up party girls.
Not that he’d have had much to worry about on her account. Stacey might have been the good time girl, but the boring little introvert that she was, Cassandra rarely ever went out to party. And she never, ever got pissed.
I’m sorry Cass, but you’re just too boring for me.
No! Inwardly screaming defiance, she rolled off the inflatable and plugged down through the pool’s crystal waters. After the warmth of the Mediterranean sun, the depths raked her like shards of ice as she kicked angrily for the bottom, then rolled and torpedoed from the tiles for the surface, breaching up to grab a breath before breast stroking for the edge. Nathan’s words constantly echoed in her ears, taunting her.
No, that wasn’t who she was. Stacey was right. She was fun and exciting in her own way. She could step out of her comfort zone. She could do the unexpected. She would prove that arrogant son of a bitch wrong.
She would... She would... Oh who the fuck was she kidding.
Hauling herself out of the frigid waters, she made straight for the lounger where she’d laid out her towel, lying back and wrapping it around her like a cocoon. It was hopeless. If she didn’t even have the balls to go out on an impromptu shopping trip with her best friend, how the hell was she ever going to break out of her slump. What could she do to break the cycle? Who-
“Room for one more?”
His familiar low raspsent a hot rush sizzling down her spine and tingling out to her fingertips.
Oh god, that voice!
Her heart suddenly fluttered like a robin red-breast in a cage and Cassandra’s breath caught in her throat as she twisted round and sawhimwalking out of the house.
David Street, Stacey’s dad. A god among mortal men.
A tall feast to behold with long limbs dusted with soft dark hair and he was dressed in tan shorts, sandals and a plain white short sleeved shirt stretched tight over broad musculature. Beneath those thick waves of raven black hair, his face was like a chiselled slab of white marble, hard and brutal with a sharp nose, wide jaw rough with the morning’s growth, and full lips that she had so longed to feel pressed against her skin.
And his eyes were the stormiest shade of grey she had ever seen, and so intense, they seemed to crash over the banks of her own and wash her away.
“Oh, hey Mr Street.” Cassandra forced herself to smile, but couldn’t drag her gaze from the vision of him coming to stand over her with a colourful drink in hand. It didn’t help that he’d left the top three buttons of his shirt open, teasing her with a glimpse of the treasure beneath. “Sure, help yourself.”
Oh if only I could...David mused, drinking in the bounty stretched out before him, before stepping around her lounger and instead settling down on the next. “Thanks, how’s the sun?” he asked before sipping his drink.
“Hot and bright. Just another beautiful day in paradise,” she said, forcing a broad smile and trying to remember she was meant to be on holiday. She was supposed to be enjoying herself, not a bag of nerves just because her friend’s dad was sitting next to her. Sitting next to her while she was dressed in nothing but this damn micro bikini!
Then he chuckled, a deep warbling rumble that rose up from within his throat to crash over Cassandra as he turned to look at her. “You say that now but give it a couple more months and you’ll be praying for some good old English weather.”
She could feel his eyes moving over her body, devouring her from head to toe, and the heat of his gaze made her skin flush and tingle.
