Page 24 of Salt and Knot

He comes with me at arm’s length, as though lagging behind.

“It’s here!” I say excitedly, and turn to smile at Dylan.

His expression is almost grim.

“What?”

His gaze darts to the sea, then back to me. He’s clenching his jaw. “Nothing. Just that now I don’t have the easy excuse to spoil you. You’re ruining my fun.”

“You don’t mean that,” I snort.

I look across at the water, and the pure blue of it calls to me. For a second, I want to suggest a swim.

But what if the sea creature returned? What if he didn’t like Dylan, and attacked him? What if he grabbed and dragged me underwater like he did before? This time he could drown me.

I can’t help remembering the big eyes of the monster, and a shudder goes through me. Not of fear, but of shameful arousal. Because whatever else that creature was, he really knew how to use his tentacles. No question.

“You didn’t ask me how I got into trouble in the water and ended up on the beach, half drowned,” I say. And that’s odd, isn’t it?

Dylan’s shoulders tense, but replies easily, “That was hardly the most important issue at the time. And you said you’re from Manchester. That’s miles inland. I assumed you struggled with the current or got unexpectedly tired swimming.”

That is one way to put it. Surprise orgasms are quite exhausting.

So is almost drowning.

“Is it safe to swim from this beach?” I ask.

There’s a beat, and Dylan’s eyes go dark. “It depends.”

“Do you swim here?” I get the feeling Dylan would like this conversation to stop.

“I do. But right now, let’s get your stuff back to the house, and you can call anyone you need.”

I nod, and obviously I don’t disagree. I don’t want a conflict between the creature that seemed to claim me yesterday, and my actual fated mate. That would be a disaster.

He hefts my bag onto his shoulder. “Oof. This is almost as heavy as you are! What do you have in here? Rocks?”

“A tent,” I justify. “A sleeping bag. It was cheaper than going to hotels or bed and breakfasts!”

“No wonder you passed out. This is enough to sink a ship.”

“It’s not!” And I can’t help but laugh as he pretends to wilt under the weight of my not-very heavy rucksack.

Then he winks, and the electricity zaps between us, bright and uplifting, as he pulls me in for a kiss, and I’m thoroughly distracted.

But as we walk away from the water, hand in hand, I glance back at the sea. And for a second, I feel I’m betraying the creature somehow. A small part of me wants to drag Dylan into the water, risk and all.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call yesterday,” I say when Elaina answers the phone.

“Isla, I was worried! Two nights away and you’ve gone AWOL!”

“Sorry! A lot has happened.” I look at Dylan from the side of my eyes. As good as his word, he’s intent on his laptop’s screen, earphones over his head, and scanning numbers, seemingly oblivious to the conversation I’m having. We’re sitting at the table we had breakfast at, me next to him now, with my feet across his solid thighs to give me as much distance as possible. Dylan insisted. Said I should have privacy to call my friend.

“Did you get blisters, or have an accident? Is that why you didn’t call?” Elaina asks, sounding a bit worried.

“Yes to the blisters.” Though that seems a long time ago, now I’m constantly touching my fated mate, so my heat doesn’t get out of hand again.

“And it’s been scorching,” Elaina continues, not allowing me a moment to say more. “Has it been hot down in Cornwall? Are you okay, did you get heat stoke?”