Page 57 of Her Wild Coast Refuge

“It’s really good to see you,” he says, and gently pulls me into his arms.

The last of the tension from my conversation with Quinn melts away, and I sigh. “It’s really good to see you too.”

He holds me for a moment longer, his warmth radiating through me. He’s brought in the scent of the pines and the river. Mixed with his spicy aftershave, it’s a powerful elixir that fills me with a sweet craving. I don’t want to let go, but if I don’t, I’m afraid I never will.

“Looks like I’m just in time for dinner,” he says, stepping back.

“She refused my help,” Quinn says.

Dawson grins. “That’s probably for the best.”

Quinn laughs.

Dawson leans in and kisses my forehead. “Thank you.”

“You haven’t tasted it yet,” I protest.

He gives me a hungry look. “I’m pretty sure it’s going to be incredible.”

A hot pulse of blood taps low in my belly, sending ripples of desire over my skin. Before I do something stupid, I turn away and slide the fillets into the hot pan. The fish sizzles and the scents of garlic, butter, and brine fill the air.

“Grab your plates.” I reposition the fillets so they brown evenly. “These will be done in two minutes.”

“You’re eating too, right?” Dawson asks.

I pause, mid-flip.

“Of course she is,” Quinn adds, frowning.

“If you’re sure.” I try to keep my voice from betraying my feelings. I’m eager to stay, but my mind is still tumbling from the conversation with Quinn. And I don’t want to make any assumptions.

Dawson and Quinn eye each other. “We’re sure.”

Throughout dinner, they entertain me with stories from their glacier adventure. True to form, their pilot and guide gave them the five-star experience, including an ice-climbing excursion, champagne iced by chunks of glacier, and a thrilling flight through a narrow valley. Laughing and teasing them helps me forget about the scary encounter with Hayden and my growing fear of losing the fight to save Soren Lake, while stoking the fire building between Dawson, Quinn, and me.

The three of us do dishes together, with music blasting from the fancy sound system. We dance and flirt and get water everywhere. By the time we close the dishwasher my sides ache from laughing.

“Dessert is ready whenever you want it,” I say. “I just have to—”

Before I can finish, Quinn steps close, pinning me against the counter. His eyes shine with mischief. “What do you think, D.J.? Dessert now, or later?”

My breaths rise and fall against Quinn’s firm chest.

Dawson sips from his whiskey, a tense look on his face. “I say now.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Quinn replies, and caresses down the back of my dress to cup my bottom. “We can start with covering the rest of those ground rules.”

“Can you give me the abbreviated version?” I reply, practically panting.

“You told her my limits?” Dawson asks Quinn. The two of them exchange a heated glance.

Dawson steps closer, and says in a sultry, low tone, “Tell us ‘red’ to stop, ‘yellow’ to slow down. Green for go.”

I sling my arms around his neck. “Green.”

Then, in one motion, he lifts me up and folds me over his shoulder.

I shriek as he takes off for the stairs. Dawson is right behind us, whiskey in hand and a dangerous grin on his face.

---