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“Fuck,” I murmur. “I . . .” But those are the only words I have. I can’t think straight long enough to say anything else. I just need to be inside her, now.

Finding a condom, I tear it open, but she plucks the packet from my hand and kneels in front of me. First planting a soft kiss on my shaft, she carefully rolls the condom down my length. I grin at her then lift her onto the bed and lay her down. Beneath me, she wiggles her sweet little arse, tugging down her thong.

I look into her eyes, seeking one last assurance this is what she wants. The desire I see there exactly matches my own.

I guide myself to her entrance and slide myself in.

She gasps. I groan.

Oh, fuck! She feels so good.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

ALLY

I’m in the restaurant with Jamie, clearing up after breakfast, while Lewis tackles the dishes in the kitchen. It’s been a week and a half since Emily and I went on our climbing adventure—a week and a half since we began a whole other kind of adventure together. Since then, every free moment I’ve had, I’ve spent with her.

As I wipe down a crumb-covered table, I replay in my mind some of what we’ve been getting up to, and I can’t help but smile.

“What are you grinning at?” Jamie asks. He’s over by the continental buffet, gathering up the remains.

“Hmm?”

“That smile! What’s happened to the Ally glower I’m used to seeing? I swear I heard you whistling yesterday. Should I be worried about the sudden mood change? Are you having some kind of breakdown?”

“Er . . . I’m fine, Jamie. Just fine.”

The reason for the smile, of course, is I’ve spent ten glorious days getting to know Emily—in and out of the bedroom. When I’ve not been showing her the sights, we’ve been exploring each other’s bodies and desires in a way only lovers can, trying things out, seeing what turns the other on.

But I’m not telling Jamie that. That’s between me and Emily—it’s no one else’s business what’s going on between us.

“Jamie, do you really not know?” Lewis calls through from the kitchen. “He’s having sex. That’s why he’s not a grumpy bastard for a change.”

“Whoa!” I protest. “I’m not having—”

“Who’s he shagging?” Jamie asks, ignoring me and walking over to the open kitchen door.

“Emily, obviously. When she got here, Ally was all, ‘She’s so stuck-up, so full of herself.’ But that didn’t last long. Now he’s doing her.”

I toss down my cloth, shove Jamie into the kitchen, and close the door behind us. “Will you two keep your voices down? This is how rumours start. I’m not having sex with—”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not shagging her.” Lewis removes his hands from the washing-up basin, wipes them on his apron, then raises a challenging eyebrow.

“I’m not—”

“He’s lying.” Jamie points at me. “His left eye twitched. That’s his tell.”

Shite.

Jamie’s face lights up. “Which means . . . you really are shagging her. Ha! This is brilliant.”

“Like I said, keep your voices down!” I hiss. “This is a place of business—I don’t want the other guests hearing you. I don’t want Emily hearing you either, for that matter. You’re not supposed to know.”

“What aren’t they supposed to know?” Aidan asks, opening the kitchen door and strolling in. “Oh, leftovers! Don’t mind if I do.” With his good hand, he snatches up a pastry. His other arm is still in a sling.

I send both Lewis and Jamie a warning look. “Nothing. We were just chatting about something to do with the—”

“Ally’s shagging Emily!” Jamie blurts out. He shoots a mischievous glance my way then has the cheek to wrap his arms around himself and mock-kiss the air.