He couldn’t help wishing one of them was Cassandra. He would have loved to feel her pressing herself hard against him. He shot a glance at her. Her exquisite features were puckered with concern.
“I’m fine,” he said. Well, croaked. There was a grainy substance in his throat. He cleared it and tried again. “I’m fine. I think I turned my ankle.”
“Ooh, we need to get you up to the house,” Diamond Stud said, turning toward the big house on the hill.
Dylan surveyed the stairs to their deck and winced. From here, it looked like a death climb up a Mayan pyramid. “My place is closer.”
“Really?” She licked her lips. “Where do you live?”
He tried to point, but she had a hold on his wrist, clamping it around her neck, so he nodded instead. “Over there. See? Through the trees.”
Her grip was a little too…grippy. And—come to think of it—so was Platinum Blonde’s. They had plastered themselves to either side in the guise of “helping” him, but he wasn’t fooled. The surreptitious caresses on his back and belly gave them away. He wiggled a little to get them to loosen up.
“Ooh,” the pixie murmured. “We’re neighbors.” She had a sweet face, the pixie.
She
probably wouldn’t be groping an injured, helpless man.
Dylan winced as a hand cupped his ass. He wasn’t sure which one had done it, so he frowned at them both. “I can make it myself.”
“Don’t be silly.”
“Of course we’ll help you. Come on. Take it slow.”
They lurched forward, one agonizing step at a time. Dylan was very aware that his body was still covered in sand, though his sweat had cooled. He felt grungy and awkward and embarrassed.
And still, through all this, Cassandra hadn’t said a word.
He shot a glance over his shoulder, just to be sure she was following. None of this would be worth it if she didn’t come along. And heaven help him, he didn’t want to be wounded and alone with these two barracudas in an isolated cabin. Surely, a fate worse than death.
To his astonishment, he found her smiling. It wasn’t a friendly kind of smile. No. It was a wicked grin. Like she knew of his discomfort in the clutches of her avaricious friends and found it amusing. It sent a bolt of electricity sizzling straight through to his gut and, for some reason, lightened his heart. “Help me,” he mouthed, and her grin turned into a laugh. A low chuckle that resonated through him and settled in his groin.
Which was awkward.
The last thing he wanted was for these two man-eaters to know he had a woodie. Such knowledge could be dangerous.
“Watch where you’re going,” Diamond Stud said as he stumbled over a step, and he decided he’d better pay attention. He couldn’t survive yet another fall in front of Cassandra.
The women helped him up the stairs onto his deck and into his modest cabin—unlike their sprawling mansion—a one-story with two bedrooms, a bath, and an open kitchen and living room. He hobbled over to the sofa and collapsed on it, exhausted.
To his horror, Diamond Stud and Platinum Blonde dropped down beside him.
“We should probably take off your shoe,” Diamond Stud said, lifting his leg onto the coffee table and fiddling with his laces.
“Do you have a first aid kit?” Platinum Blonde asked. “Something with a wrap?”
He nodded. “In the bathroom. Under the sink.”
“Cassie, go get it, will you?” Diamond Stud barked.
Dylan bristled a little, disliking the way Stud ordered his Cassandra around, but she seemed to take the brusque command as par for the course. She headed toward the back of the house, not even asking where the bathroom was. Then again, there weren’t many options in this crackerbox.
Platinum Blonde patted his bare thigh. “Cassie knows first aid. Don’t worry. We’ll fix you right up.”
“You’ll probably need some crutches. Lucy, don’t we have some at the house? From when Lane broke his leg?”
Platinum Blonde tapped her lips. “Hmm. I think so. I’ll have to look in the storage closet.”
Diamond Stud nodded and shot Dylan a lusty look. “I’ll bring them over…
later
.” The way she hummed the word made goose bumps rise on his skin.
“Um, that’s okay. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
Yikes. Alone with
her
? At night? The thought was horrifying. She’d be on him in a New York minute. She was aggressive enough with her friends here. He could only imagine what she’d try to pull if they were alone.
He was used to women coming on to him. In his business, it happened all the time. But Dylan had never been the kind of guy to play the field—despite what his on-air persona might suggest. He’d been faithful to his wife from the day they met and since she’d left…well, since then, there’d been no one.
He hadn’t had a “first time” with a woman in ten years.
No wonder he felt like a virgin in a frat house right now.
Cassandra came back into the room with the first aid kit, rummaging through it as she walked. She pulled out the wrap and knelt beside the coffee table where his now bare foot perched.
She glanced up at him and, yeah, he was poleaxed. “I’m Cassie,” she said.
A shiver shot through him at the sound of her voice. He’d been aching to hear it, wondering about it, dreaming about it for months.
“Dylan,” he said holding out a hand. “Dylan Dev—” His voice broke when her palm met his. Warm sensation crawled through him at her touch. He liked the way her skin felt against his. He wanted to hold on forever. “Deveney.”
“Ooh! I’m Bella Cross,” Diamond Stud wrenched his hand from Cassie’s and took it in her own.
“And I’m Lucy Howe.” The same battle ensued with Platinum Blonde. “And that’s Emily.” She nodded at the pixie who laced her fingers before her and nodded.
“Thank you all for your help,” he said, wrangling free from Lucy’s grasp. He looked at Cassie. “So what do you think, doc?” He tried to infuse his expression with a playful mien, but wasn’t sure if he was successful in keeping his simmering hunger at bay.
Having her so close was excruciating.
“Let’s have a look.”
He nearly jumped out of his seat when she touched him again. Her fingers were soft and gentle and cool; his sensitized skin screamed with delight.
She stilled at his flinch. “Did that hurt?”
“No. No. It’s fine.”
She gingerly explored his swollen ankle then cupped his foot, attempting a slow flex. He winced. “How about this?”
“A little.”
“And this?” She nudged the bone in a couple of places.
“No.”
A smile flooded her face. “Good. It’s not broken. Probably a minor sprain. A tight wrap will make you more comfortable, but you should ice it to keep the swelling down. Of course, you’re going to want to visit your doctor to be sure.”
“Uh huh.” All he could manage. Because, Christ, she was touching him. Only his stupid ankle, but his cock thrummed in sympathetic tandem.
“I’m going to wrap it now.”
“Okay.”
He stared at her as she tended his sprain, marveled at how easily and professionally she trussed him up in the flexible bandage. Mostly he savored each brush. Every casual stroke.
God, he wanted the woman. Ached for her with a hunger he’d never known before.
He’d never believed in soul mates, or love at first sight, but that was what this felt like. He wanted to know more about her, ached to explore her—body and soul—needed to learn what made her tick. Desperately.
Although, how he could accomplish this with an entourage, he didn’t know.
When Cassie finished, she sat back on her haunches and surveyed her work. “There,” she said softly. “That should work.” She glanced up at him and their gazes tangled for a long moment. The exchange could have gone on forever, but Diamond Stud—Bella—cleared her throat.
“Nice job, Cassie,” she said. Dylan couldn’t miss the glare she sent to her friends. It said:
Now clear out
.
Holy crap. He didn’t want to be alone with Bella. Or Lucy. Or any of them.
Except Cassie.
He deliberately let go an enormous yawn.
Cassie drew in a breath. “We should go.” At Bella’s glower, she added, “He needs to rest. Preferably with the foot elevated. And Dylan,” a shower of pleasure trickled through him at the sound of his name on her lips. “You should take some ibuprofen for the swelling.”
“I will.” Hell, he’d do anything she asked.
Anything.
Bella and Lucy sighed heavily. “Must we go?” they whined in a discordant chorus.
Cassie nodded. “Oh, definitely. Dylan, do you need anything before we leave? Water? Something to eat?”
“Do you need help getting to your
bed
?” He cringed at the way Bella said the word.
“No. Thanks. I can manage.”
Bella frowned. “Okay. But if you need anything—anything—let us know, okay? We’re right next door.”
“Ooh!” Lucy’s expression brightened. “Let me give you my cell number. Then you can call if, you know, you want…anything.”
Seriously? Did she need to waggle her brows?
She bounded off the couch and grabbed a pen and pad from the table, scribbling madly.
“And mine,” Bella chimed in. She snatched the pad from Lucy and added her number.
Dylan cleared his throat. “Um, could I have Cassie’s too?” A red heat crawled up his neck. Normally, he would never ask. But he really, really wanted her number. “I mean, in case I have any medical questions?”
“Natch.” Bella shot a glance from him to Cassie.
For some reason Dylan held his breath as Bella scribbled down Cassie’s number and didn’t let it out until she handed him the pad. Then he memorized it. Right then and there.
Not that he intended to call her or anything.
Just having it was exciting as hell.
And then his belly dropped. Because Bella said, in a soft, seductive tone, “I’ll be back later with those crutches.” She batted her lashes. “And I’ll make you dinner.”
His gaze shot to Cassie. There she was, grinning again.
He didn’t mouth the words, but let his eyes speak for him.
Help me.
Oh heaven, help me.
And she winked.
Chapter Three
As they made their way home, Bella and Lucy gushed about Dylan, about how awesome his body was and how warm and hard and yummy he’d felt, but Cassie’s mind was elsewhere. Not elsewhere, precisely. She
was
thinking about Dylan, just not focusing on the conversation.
She’d never met a man so attractive. From the moment their eyes had met—when he looked up at her from his prone position on the beach—she’d been utterly entranced. Practically speechless.
It was as though something elemental had passed between them. His glance had liquefied her, made her feel tiny and feminine and…sexy.
Bella was right. He was a Highlander. And a super-hot one. He was tall and broad and firm. The muscles on his bare chest were perfectly defined, his skin tan and his face arresting. Not handsome, per se, but etched with character. She loved a square jaw on a man and, covered in scruff as it was, it made her melt inside. His eyes were so dark they were almost black and fringed with thick lashes. And in them, a latent sensuality simmered.
But it wasn’t only his looks. There was more to her attraction than his rugged body and striking features. When he’d peeped at her over his shoulder, looking so woebegone and desperate, and mouthed
help me
, she’d been amused. But she’d also felt a burning desire to leap into the fray and rip him from Bella’s clutches…and claim him for her own.
Which was odd. He was hardly her type. In fact, he was the antithesis of every guy she’d ever dated.
Then again, none of the guys she’d ever dated had sent a sharp shard of arousal slamming through her with a glance.
She’d been so jealous Bella and Lucy were touching him, but on another level, the thought of holding him so intimately scared her to death.
Hell
, when their skin had connected as she wrapped his ankle—brief and impersonal as the contact had been—it had left her quivering and, if she was honest, wet.
She’d never thought of herself as a coward, certainly not around men. But Dylan Deveney had her wondering. Had she always, and deliberately, gone for the safe guys?
Because
he
wasn’t safe in the least.
No, this guy was as dangerous as they came.
She had no doubt he could shatter her heart without even trying.
But then, it hardly mattered. She probably would never see him again, and if she did, it would be in passing.
Besides, Bella and Lucy had called dibs.
And no one crossed those two. Not when it came to hot guys…especially steamy Highlanders. She resolved to put the encounter from her mind. But didn’t hold out hope she could.
“You know, something’s been bugging me,” Lucy said as she set a plate of steamed asparagus on the table next to the sliced kohlrabi and kale chips. Today’s lunch was a vegan blowout. It had been Bella’s idea to have a low-carb, veggie-fest weekend. Cassie had been willing to try it, but after only one day, she was craving a hunk of meat.
And no, she wasn’t thinking about Dylan.
Well, she was.
Also, steak.
And ham.
And bacon.
Especially bacon.
She blew out a sigh and scooped some cauliflower mashed “potatoes” onto her plate. Oh, there were no actual potatoes in it. Just a charming combination of mashed cauliflower and olive oil. Yummy. She selected a slab of tofurkey, hoping she could convince her palate it was actually…palatable.
And she made a vow.
If Bella ever suggested a vegan girls-only weekend again, she was developing the flu. Or a highly contagious rash. Or washing her hair. Or
something
.
“What’s been bugging you?” Emily asked, taking a bite of cauliflower crust pizza with soy cheese. Her eyes bulged. She glanced at Cassie and then, very discreetly, emptied the mouthful into her napkin.
“Dylan?”
Cassie didn’t snort aloud, but it took some effort to restrain herself. They hadn’t stopped talking about him since they’d gotten back to the house—except to hunt madly for Lane’s crutches.