Page 22 of Beached Wedding

“For God’s sake, Fliss.” Ashley drained the flat champagne in a couple of gulps.

I was so lethargic, I could have stayed in this hammock the rest of my life, but I threw off the blanket and climbed out.

As I did, Ashley glanced to the pocket of my robe, asking, “Do you have?—”

I flashed her.

I wasn’t trying to. I wastryingto kick into a slipper. My robe parted and yeah. That happened.

Ashley’s thunderstruck gaze slammed into mine. I read clear as day that she was hoping I hadn’t noticed thatshe’dnoticed. She went bright red as she saw I had.

And we both knew I was standing at half-mast. I had just woken up, for Christ’s sake. I had felt that glance of hers like a warm breath.

I did the only thing I could do. I owned it. If I apologized every time I got an inappropriate stiffy, that’s all I’d do in this lifetime.

I shrugged and tucked and belted the robe tight while glancing to be sure the minor hadn’t also caught an eyeful of x-rated material.

“What’s this?” Fliss brought her nose out of the basket, but apparently sensed something was amiss. She looked back and forth between us. “What’s wrong?”

I braced myself for Ashley to make some pithy, disparaging comment, but she only blushed harder and mumbled, “Nothing.”

My ears did that vinyl record scratch noise. A pulse of electricity jolted to the ends of my fingers and gave a bright stab into my groin at the same time.

What the hell? Disgusted or offended or amused I could handle. She wasn’t supposed to actshy. Like she had been caught perving on me and felt guilty for it. Like she hadn’t realized she could make me grow wood and was feeling all feminine and flustered now that she knew she could.

She kept her gaze lowered, eyelashes a line of fine, mink hairs that cast a feathered shadow against cheeks still wearing a soft blush. It was so damned pretty and suggestive of a woman considering her options, I suffered a second, sharper pulse. This one was made of high-grade, red-light district neon and pulled my homewrecker to full attention.

I was positively lightheaded. If Fliss hadn’t been there, I might have asked Ash what the hell was going on.

Or maybe not.

No, I decided. Whatever my gonads were thinking didn’t bear thinking about. Ash was friend, not food. This was an awkward moment that needed to be obliterated as quickly and completely as possible.

ASHLEY

“Are you moving back into the villa with us?” Fliss asked as we walked to the elevator. “Grandma said you would.”

I bit back a hard,Dear God no. “I’m going to stay in the suite.”

I wanted to look at Fox for confirmation. His offer to cover the cost was really generous, but even if he had changed his mind, I would max out my credit card and treat myself. He was right. I needed my own space right now.

Fox used his room card on the elevator and pushed his hands into the pockets of his robe as he joined us inside. Definitely naked under there. And no worries about the bikini line. He kept things tidy around the mast.

I wanted to fan the self-conscious heat from my cheeks. It was so dumb! I’d seen him in his underwear before, including a few hours ago when he’d jumped into the water at the beach. When we’d been sharing a house, I’d had to avert my eyes from his morning wood. I hadn’t grown up with men in the house, but I knew erections were a normal, frequent, uncontrollable thing. Heck, he’d probably seen my nipples loads of times, when it was cold out or I’d been braless under a pajama T-shirt.

Okay, that didn’t help. Now I was blushing with embarrassment, wondering if he had ever been this disconcerted by my nipples as I was by his boner.

No. I didn’t think he’d ever noticed I was a woman. Not in a sexual way. Izzy was his type, all sensual and pretty and colorful with golden eyes and high cheekbones and buckets of bedroom confidence. Sure, he was nice enough to say, “You scrub up well,” if I put on a dress and some lip gloss, but he never flirted or acted like anything more than a friend who happened to be a straight male.

He was probably feeling better from his hangover. That’sall. Maybe reacting to generic breasts and butt, not specificallymychest and chassis.

And I wasn’t reacting to him. Why would I? Everything was normal.

Why wasn’t everything normal?

“Oliver wants to go on a hike to a waterfall tomorrow,” Fliss said gloomily.

“Hmm? Oh. That sounds nice.”

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