Kara watched her friend’s disappearing back. For mysterious, read ominous. Ominous in a…
Kara’s train of thought was rudely interrupted by a thunderous crescendo of noise. She crossed to the window and craned her neck to get a better look at the visitor who’d just created his own minor hailstorm of gravel beneath the wheels of his great chunk of a motorbike. Frowning, she smoothed her palms down the short, fitted skirt of her ‘when in doubt, go killer’ LBD, and crossed the hallway to open the front door just as the guy on the other side pulled his helmet off his head and shook out his hair.
His sandy, surf boy hair.
Terrific. Just terrific. Kara’s eyes swept him over in an instant, taking in everything from his vintage look leather jacket to the dark shirt and jeans beneath.
“Evening, English.”
Lucien and Sophie appeared through the archway, robbing Kara of the chance of a sarcastic comeback. Dylan Day had the audacity to grin and tip her a private wink.
“Do come in.” She smiled widely, letting her eyes shoot private daggers at him as he murmured his thanks and walked past her into the villa.
Lucien stepped forwards and shook hands warmly with their visitor.
“Sophie. Kara. This is Dylan Day.”
From the look of comprehension that crossed Sophie’s face, Kara knew that Lucien had already told her that he’d appointed someone as manager of the club. Sophie moved forward and placed her hand on Dylan’s arm.
“I’m Sophie. It’s great to meet you,” she smiled, guiding him through into the lounge. “Let me get you something to drink.”
Lucien’s eyes lingered on Sophie’s backside as she retreated to the kitchen.
“That’s my Sophie.” He smiled amicably, but the warning was clear in the almost imperceptible emphasis he placed on the possessive. Look at my girl the wrong way and I’ll kill you with my bare hands. Dylan nodded. Message understood.
Kara cleared her throat dramatically, hands on her hips, her eyes wide. Lucien did a bad job of hiding his smirk.
“And this is Kara, Sophie’s business partner.”
Dylan extended his hand formally towards Kara with a clear, innocent as a baby smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kara.”
“Watch her,” Lucien murmured. His blue grey eyes glittered, danger and mirth. “She has claws.”
Kara opened her eyes wide and laughed lightly. “Ignore him. I’m a regular pussy cat, Dylan.”
Lucien laughed low, excusing himself as Sophie called out to him from the kitchen.
“A pussy cat, huh?” Dylan said. “Domestic, or wild, English?”
Kara didn’t even know what it was about Dylan Day that riled her.
“Play nice, Mister, or you’ll find out the hard way.”
He lowered his head towards her as Sophie reappeared with Lucien close behind her, and the clean, masculine scent of him caught her off guard as he shrugged out of his jacket.
“I never could resist a challenge.”
“Kara, grab Dylan’s coat would you?” Sophie handed Dylan a glass of champagne and smiled at her friend, leaving Kara no option but to take his jacket or else look conspicuously rude. He handed it over with a grin.
“Don’t rip it with those claws of yours.”
Kara shot him a sugar sweet smile and headed into the hallway, Dylan’s jacket in her hands. Faded tan and butter soft with wear, and the kind of bashed up that only ever worked with leather and spoke of many years of being moulded around its owner. It was still warm with Dylan’s body heat, and as Kara lifted it onto a coat-hook the indefinable scent of him caught her for a second time.
So the man smelled good. What of it?
Irritated with herself, she rejoined the others, who by now had made their way outside and gathered on the deeply padded seats of the dining alcove beneath the shade of the awning at the back of the villa. They were laughing easily as she approached, and Dylan already looked utterly relaxed and at home alongside Lucien and Sophie. She slowed her step, watching them, suddenly unsure of her role amongst them. It looked like a table set for two couples, but there was only one couple seated at that table. Plus a couple of other people who meant nothing to and knew nothing of each other.
Dylan glanced across as she approached and pushed himself onto his feet with a wide smile.
“Kara,” he murmured with a nod, catching her off guard with both his old school manners and his use of her given name rather than ‘English.’
There was something in the softness of his pronunciation that made her swallow hard, and she flashed him a quick smile to cover the inexplicable fluster he’d thrown her into. The only seat available to her was alongside Dylan on the upholstered bench-seat, and he dropped down gracefully beside her once she’d settled.
The evening sun had slipped low over the bay, and their vantage point offered them a spectacular view of what promised to be a legendary Ibizan sunset. It had been a long, hot day, and the burnt orange sun was making the most of its curtain call.
“You get some view from up here,” Dylan observed, his eyes on the bay. “It must be one of the highest points?”
“Lucien likes to be king of the castle,” Sophie laughed, and Lucien lifted his eyebrows as he topped up everyone’s glass and then raised his own.
“To Gateway Ibiza’s new management team, complete at last.”
They made the toast as the caterer’s waitress emerged from the villa with their first course, a platter of Iberian ham and mozzarella cheese with plump tomatoes drizzled in fragrant local rosemary oil.
“So you’re American, Dylan.” Sophie stated the obvious, earning herself a nod from Dylan as she pushed the platter a little towards him as an encouragement to help himself.
“Sure am.”
Kara watched him place ham and tomatoes on his plate. “You’re a long way from home," she said, casual but deliberate.
He nodded again, slower this time, his eyes still on his food. “I guess so. I’ve rented a place over in Vadella.”
He looked up and smiled, the kind of open, genial smile that people employ when they really don’t want to elaborate. It served only to make Kara dig a little deeper.
“What brings you to Ibiza?”
Dylan shrugged, that big easy smile still in place. “I was ready for a change of scene. I came to see a friend, but he’s moved on.”
“It’s a long way to come on the off chance. They don’t have phones in America?”
“Kara...” Lucien chided, but Dylan was unfazed by Kara’s bluntness.