The Same Deep Water (22 page)
Read The Same Deep Water Online
Authors: Lisa Swallow
"Is this your underwear?"
I snap my eyes open, spilling my wine as I jump to my feet. Psycho-sexy driver stands at the bottom of the stairs with a pair of my knickers hanging off his long fingers. Not even nice underwear. The sort reserved for unsexy times of the month.
The mortifying sight of a stranger holding my flowery underwear is joined by the eye-popping sight of him standing shirtless in the house with damp hair. My look travels from the knickers to his low-slung jeans and the tightest six-pack I’ve ever seen, in real life anyway. At least he's not spoilt his sculptured chest and abs with the ugly tattoos on his arms. Um. What the hell? Calm down, Sky.
This man has broken into my sanctuary and stolen my knickers. I snatch the offending item from him, mind scrambling to form a coherent sentence. "Get out of my house before I call the police!"
"Your house?"
I clear my throat, not impressed with the squeaky tone I’m favouring. "Where the hell did you come from? Did you follow me?"
"How is this your house? This place is a holiday rental."
"Well, my Gran's house but I'm staying here," I say, unsure why I’m justifying myself to a knicker thief.
The tired, ocean blue eyes fix on mine. "That's a problem then."
"Why?"
"Because I'm renting the place for a month. I arrived about an hour ago and thought the last guests must’ve forgotten some items of clothing." He points at my knickers. "Then I get out of the shower and find you here."
"Gran never said when I asked to stay..."
I vaguely remember Gran’s distraction when I asked. She was shouting at her dog - I bet she wasn't listening.
Crap.
"Well, I was here first! You have to leave!" I retort.
He raises an eyebrow. "I have to leave? I've paid for the place. Have you?"
He already knows the answer judging by his growing smirk. Fine. I change tack.
"You can't kick me out!"
"Stay then. But I'm having the main bedroom, and you’ll have to remove all your clothes and underwear." He pauses, fixing me with the look he tried when we were in the country lane. "From the bed I mean.”
Damn my blushing cheeks. "I'm not staying with you; you could be a psychopath or something."
"Or something? What's worse than a psychopath?"
An arrogant but disarmingly attractive bare-chested man stirring things that should remain unstirred, that’s what.
"You have to go," I repeat.
"Where?"
"I don't know. Get in your penis extension of a car and find somewhere expensive."
The man laughs. Really laughs, not just a chuckle. He looks at me as if I'm the weirdest thing he's seen; but with a genuine, open, and ‘non-frowny’ expression for once.
"I got a taxi," he says. "Didn’t you notice my ah…penis extension wasn’t parked outside?"
"Why get a taxi?"
"I didn't want to park my car here."
"Why?"
"Why do you think?" His smile leaves.
"If I had an idea, I wouldn't ask." The microwave beeps and I glance over, stomach reminding me drinking red wine when it's empty isn't smart. "If you could get your T-shirt on and go now, please. I want to eat my dinner."
I stalk over to the microwave and pull out the carton. Underestimating the heat of the plastic, I drop the container and watch in disappointment as my beef madras decorates the linoleum.
"Fuck."
"Quite."
The amusement in his face does nothing to calm the situation. "If you hadn't freaked me out by being here, I wouldn't have dropped it!"
"Do you like pizza?" he asks.
"What's pizza got to do with anything?"
The man sits on top of the table. "I'll order some for us. If you'll put up with my company until I can find somewhere else to go."
I eye him suspiciously. "You'll leave?"
"Yeah, I can always sleep on the beach."
I'm not a hundred percent sure if he's serious or not, and I'm still very wary. "Hang on."
Rooting around inside my handbag for my phone, I walk away and turn my back, dialling Gran's number.
When she answers, her West Highland terriers are yapping in the background, matching the volume of her television. "Hello?"
"It's Sky. I'm at the beach house and there's someone here saying he’s rented the place for a month?" I half-shout.
Man-whose-name-I-don't-know-even-though-he's-seen-my-underwear cocks an eyebrow at me.
"Why are you there?" asks Gran.
"You said I could stay for a week."
"In July."
"No, now."
Gran shouts at her dogs, forgetting to take the phone from her ear and I wince at the volume. "I thought you said July."
Great, I knew she wasn't listening when I asked. "I told you about..." I almost remind her about Grant, and then realise I don't want the guy knowing my business. I lower my voice, "The thing with the thing."
"Thing?"
"Yes, the thing that's made me want to come here for a week. Remember?"
"You're making no sense, Sky. Have you been drinking?"
So much for escaping everything. "Has he paid?" I whisper. "You’ve got his details? Is he...you know...genuine."
"I spoke to him myself. He transferred the money straight away and paid over the odds. And yes, I have the usual: drivers licence number, bank details and such. They were definitely him. Bit cagey about giving them to me, maybe he has a mistress he’s bringing down, wouldn’t be the first time..."
She’s burbling; Gran loves red wine as much as I do. Hmm. Paid in full, so definitely not someone she wants me to kick out. "Oh."
"I'm sure you'll work something out, sweetie! Listen, I have to go. Monty is eating the curtains."
As she hangs up, I stare at the phone. Why me?
"And?" he asks with an eyebrow still cocked.
"Fine. I'll pack."
"Where will you go?"
"No idea."
He looks at me with
that
look again, curious and amused. "I won't kick you out into the night. We can stay together for one night?"
I splutter. "Yeah, right."
"Is my reputation bothering you?"
"Reputation as a bad driver?"
"No." Shaking his head a little, the guy holds out a hand. "I haven't introduced myself. I'm Dylan. Dylan Morgan."
I stare at his hand, and wonder why he has so many rings on. Big solid silver things. When we shake hands, I'm aware of a weird, but not unpleasant, tingling continuing up my arm and somehow hitching my breath.
"Um. Sky."
His mouth tilts at one side. "You're funny. It's refreshing."
I have no clue whether he's insulting me or not, but for some reason, under his scrutiny, heat creeps across my cheeks. Am I supposed to know who he is, or something?
The curry congeals on the floor next to me, and as if on cue, my stomach rumbles. I cough to try to disguise the sound.
"Pizza," he says as if forgetting himself. "You will share a pizza with me? I don't often get to share pizza with funny chicks."
I scowl, but he's earnest. Do serial killers have a detectable aura? I always thought I was a good judge of character, though that's cast into doubt recently, thanks to Grant wearing a girl on his head. Dylan has a presence. Confident, a little arrogant, but I don't feel unsafe. He's tired, and I think something is dragging him down too. How do I know? I don’t, but something in his presence reflects my own state.
What bothers me more than his possible psycho status is how those eyes have brightened since we spoke and how they’ve disarmed me.
"I think I'll eat a whole one. Meatlovers." I promise myself I'll eat less chocolate tomorrow.
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Acknowledgements
As always, a big thank you to my beta readers: Louise and Leeann. Also thanks to Demelza, Sasha, Cassi and Shelley for last-minute input.
This stunning cover was designed by the amazing Najla Qamber. Thank you again for making my book look outstanding!
Thank you to Peggy and Becky from Hot Tree Editing.
Thanks to Nicole from Indiesage for taking over the promotion and release and to Inkslinger for organising a tour.
Thank you Rebecca Hamilton for your advice and for sharing your knowledge.
A huge thank you to all the bloggers who continue to support me, I couldn’t reach as many people as I do without your help. Every single post, share and shout out means a lot.
To my friends in the Lounge: you ladies keep me sane and make me laugh and I feel I’ve made so many new friends. When times were tough this year you’ve helped me through in more ways than you imagine. Thank you.
And thanks to every single reader who has left a review, signed up to my mailing list, spoken to me on Facebook or emailed me. You make my dreams a reality. I’m overwhelmed by the support and can’t wait to share more with you!
And a final shout out to Louise again. Thank you for being there for me when I felt nobody else was and for helping me through the deep water I found myself in earlier this year. Your friendship and support, both professional and personal, means the world to me. I think I’d be lost without you.
About The Author
Lisa is an Amazon best-selling author of contemporary and paranormal romance, including the best-selling Blue Phoenix rock romance series.
She is originally from the UK but moved to Australia in 2001 and now lives in Perth, Western Australia with her husband, three children and dog.
Lisa has spent the last 18 months with imaginary rock stars who’ve made her dreams a reality.
She also sucks at writing bios.
Where to find me:
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