Ethan's POV
After a few seconds, she set her book down and stood up. My heart rate kicked up a notch as she walked toward me, her movements graceful and unhurried.
"Thanks for the drink," she said when she reached my daybed. Her accent was British, refined but not stuffy. "Any particular reason you decided to interrupt my reading?"
I grinned up at her. "You looked like you were enjoying that book a little too much. I thought you might want to enjoy something else for a change."
She laughed, a genuine sound that made her eyes crinkle at the corners. "Cheeky. Mind if I sit?"
"Please," I gestured to the edge of my daybed.
She sat, adjusting her white cover-up. "I'm Isabella."
"Ethan," I replied, extending my hand. When she took it, I felt a small jolt of electricity. Her handshake was
