Out of the Blue (11 page)

Much more.

"Maybe you could talk to her about it." Alexi nodded toward the bluffs, where Hannah had appeared.

Her hair whipped about in the light wind, and the sundress she wore danced around her long legs. She walked the path away from them. Just watching her go caused a deep ache. A need.

And only she could fill it. "We don't really have anything to talk about," he said.

"I'm betting you do." Alexi rose to leave, but she stopped to give him a kiss. "Love you, Zach."

Then he was alone, on the sand, with Hannah fifty feet away. As if she sensed him, she slowly turned, then looked right at him.

He walked toward her. "Hey."

"Hey." She sent him a small smile. "Alexi pestering you again?"

"As always. She's opinionated, especially about…"

"About…
?"

"Us," he said bluntly. "She's fond of meddling."

"Does she know about the other night?"

"She's trying to figure it out."

"She just wants to know if she lost."

"Lost what?"

"Oh…
"
She bit her lower lip. "Some silly bet."

"About?"

"About … toilets."

"You guys had a bet about toilets?"

"It was nothing, really. You see, Tara and Alexi started this stupid bet on who could get unsingle for the summer."

"Unsingle."

"Yes. It seemed so easy—only it wasn't easy at all, not for me, because I never date. So I decided to make my own personal goal." She gave him a rueful look. "And I think you know what that was."

"This … was all about a bet?" Any warm and fuzzy feelings he'd been secretly harboring pretty much disintegrated on the spot. Never mind that he'd been worrying
she
would want more from
him,
when he couldn't give it. The idea that what they'd shared had been all because of a bet hurt more than he could have imagined. "So what did you win?"

"Zach, it only started out that way, I—"

"What did you win, Hannah?"

"Nothing, because I didn't tell them what … happened between us."

"What will you win when they find out?"

Remorse flashed across her features. "Well, that's the thing. It's not so much a winning, it's what happens to the loser."

"And what would that be?"

"They have to clean the toilets—all of them in the lodge—for the entire summer."

"So I saved you a bottle of disinfectant and some elbow grease?" he asked in disbelief.

"I honestly figured I'd lose," she said earnestly. "But then you showed up—"

"And you decided the heck with cleaning toilets, I'll just sleep with Zach. He'll oblige me."

"No! No, it wasn't like that at all. When I saw you again, after all that time, it brought back feelings I'd had for you…" She hesitated, glanced at him to see how he was taking this, and clearly decided he wasn't taking it well at all, so she speeded up. "It was awful."

"Awful," he repeated dully.

"Yeah, but not in the way you think."

"Maybe you should explain."

"I'm not sure I can. It's just that I looked at you and something …
happened."
She blinked at him, as if willing him to understand. "I felt as though we were the same, both lonely and aching for something, but not knowing what. It was so good to see you again," she said simply. "It was like the homecoming I didn't know I was missing. I didn't know how to react."

"So you slept with me."

"Well, it wasn't easy," she said with a low laugh, but her smile disappeared when he didn't smile back.

"Okay, yes, so I slept with you." She sighed. "I was tired of being a virgin, okay? Tired of wondering what it would be like to be held and kissed and
wanted
by a man. By a man who maybe cared about me just a little."

"Well you got that last part right at least," he told her grudgingly.
"I
care about you, and more than just a little."

"Really?"

God, the look in her eyes hurt. "Really, but—"

"But we both agreed this was only temporary, from the very beginning. I know, I remember." She watched him very carefully. "Would you have wanted it to be … more?"

"No." But wasn't that the kicker? He was no longer sure about that.

Chapter 11

«
^
»

"
S
o … did you do the deed with Zach yet?"

The three of them, Hannah, Alexi and Tara, were in the kitchen for their nightly ritual—junk food.

Hannah stared at Alexi, thankful she'd already swallowed the last bite of her brownie, which was tonight's dessert of choice.

The three of them had been meeting like this since they'd opened the lodge. It was their favorite time of the day. Usually they discussed the comings and goings of the guests, or their employees, or even financial stuff, but mostly they just sat around and enjoyed each other and the peace and quiet.

"Well? Did you?"

"I don't really want to talk about it," Hannah said.

"Really?" Alexi looked at her, shocked at the thought that one of them would hold out on good gossip. "Why not?"

"Because…
"
Why not? "Because…
"

"Because you're falling for him."

"Really? Let me see." Tara came close and inspected Hannah's face carefully. "Hmm … not necessarily true," she said over her shoulder to Alexi. "It could just be the triple decker ice cream she consumed for lunch, coupled with the five brownies she just inhaled."

"You're saying that look is caused by
sugar
overload and not
male
overload?" Alexi asked.

The two of them stood there discussing her, staring into her face, as if she wasn't right there. Laughing, Hannah pushed them both away. "Go on, both of you. If you see anything in my eyes, it's annoyance. At you. Good night."

She escaped, then leaned weakly against the kitchen door, staring at the curved staircase that led to the rooms.

Was Zach up there?

She realized she was holding her breath, and she slowly let it out, knowing it shouldn't matter where he was.

If only that was the truth.

She forced herself to go directly to her room, where she wandered around until the knock came.

To her shock, it was Zach, and he looked every bit as baffled and uncertain as she was. It was a good look on him though, and just seeing him made her hurt.

When she just stared at him, he sent her one of his most irresistible grins. "The Schwartzes are watching, you know. Waiting to see how long it takes me to talk you into letting me in. You're killing my reputation."

"You can't come in," she told him. "I might do something embarrassing, like throw myself at you."

He sent her a tight smile. "I'm fairly certain I've alienated you enough today so that my virtue is safe."

Unable to hold back her own smile at that, she stepped back. "Come in then. At your own risk, of course."

"Of course." He moved past her, into the middle of the room, then turned back to face her. "I gave up my room."

"You … what?"

"The inn is overbooked. Tara was downstairs tearing out her hair."

"Oh, poor thing. I need to go help."

"You worked a double shift already. She's got it handled. But I gave up my room, and—" He sent her another one of his smiles, this one touchingly uncertain.

Her heart tugged, which really annoyed her.

"Is your couch still available?" he asked unexpectedly.

"Is my—" She narrowed her eyes and studied him. "No."

"No?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I'll probably forget myself and look into your eyes, which will make me melt, dammit, and then the next thing I know we'll be …
you
know,
and quite frankly, Zach, my heart just can't take it."

"Maybe I want you to melt." He took a step toward her. "Maybe I've thought it all over and decided it doesn't matter to me what got us together the other night, that I'm just glad it happened." Another step, and her heart leaped. "Maybe I want it to happen again." He took the last step between them. "And again."

He was standing before her now, his face tense, his entire
body
tense. "Maybe I think that Los Angeles isn't
that
far away, that I think we should do whatever it takes to ride this thing through to the end."

She shook her head, suddenly, terribly, very afraid. "You swallowed too much sea water when you were surfing today. That must be it."

"Okay, you don't believe me." He nodded his understanding. "Hell, I hardly believe it myself. I can give you all the time you need to mull it
over."

"You have only a few days left."

"That's not necessarily true."

She looked at him, wary. "I don't know what you mean. I thought you didn't want to leave any loose ends."

The hurt in her voice was unmistakable, and his fault. "Hannah—"

"No, I already know everything there is to know. Your job, your lifestyle, your everything, doesn't leave room for any entanglements. Don't you see? That's what made it all okay for me, because I knew. At least at first, it was okay." She sighed. "But afterwards, the truth stared me in the face. I was only kidding myself. I … I felt something more than just lust, and it scares me to death."

He knew the feeling, all too well. "Hannah…"

"It can't happen again."

Yes, he'd thought that, too. But he felt empty just thinking about it.

Totally, completely, devastatingly empty.

"Maybe I need more than a few more days to recover from the shooting," he said softly.

Her eyes were wide, still wary. "But you love your job."

"Yeah. But the job could wait. If it had to."

"Don't do it. Don't you dare do something like that for me."

"How do you know it would be for you?"

"Wouldn't it?"

"Maybe it'd be for both of us."

"No." There was more than a little panic in her voice. "Because you
would
eventually go back, and it would be worse then, so much, much worse. So just stop it, stop looking at me like that, like you really, really care, okay?"

"Well, how about I don't look at you at all?" He touched her then, slid his hands up her arms, then back down until just their fingers were connected. Slowly he pulled her close in a hug devastatingly easy and warm. "There." He buried his face in the soft, vulnerable spot beneath her ear. "I can't see you. Does that help?"

He was teasing her, still smiling. Hannah could feel him against her skin, and there was no way she could turn him away. "Fine. Stay." As if it didn't matter, she shrugged, went into her bedroom and shut the door.

Then she sat on her bed and stared at that shut door, her body and mind at war as to what they wanted from the man on the other side of it.

* * *

Hours later Zach came awake to a low cry from the bedroom, followed by a soft thud. He was off the couch and through the door before he came fully conscious, hitting his knees on the floor in front of the thrashing lump by the bed.

"Hannah." She was flailing wildly in the dark, trapped in the blanket, which had fallen with her. "Hold still, I've got you." It took him a moment to free her, but when she did, she surprised him, leaping to her feet.

There was no light, only the faint moon, so he couldn't be certain, but it seemed as though she was standing over him, chest heaving, glaring with fury.

At
him.
"Hannah?"

She shoved back her hair, her breathing ragged, and he reached out and flipped on the light.

He immediately wished he hadn't. She'd obviously had a nightmare. Her shirt was soaked through, plastered against her skin, which was shiny and lustrous. Her thighs, the ones he'd just been dreaming about having wrapped around him, quivered, and she hugged herself, all while shooting him with those mental daggers.

"You,"
she said.

"Yes, me." He was still on his knees, unable to take his eyes off the incredible sight she made standing over him. Her full breasts were thrust up by her crossed arms. And from his low vantage point, he could see just a peek-a-boo hint of white panties beneath the hem of her shirt. "A bad dream?"

"Not a bad one, no." Again, she shoved the hair out of her eyes, then dragged in a deep breath. She continued to glare at him as she moved past him, affording him a fantastic view of her perfect rear end.

Then the bathroom door slammed behind her, making him blink. "Hannah?"

"You sleep naked," came her accusing voice.

Yes. He hadn't thought about that when he'd raced into the bedroom thinking something was seriously wrong.

"I'm taking a shower," she called out grumpily. "A cold one."

Ah. He got it now, and pleased, he let out a low laugh. "You had a sexual dream. About me."

"Don't let it go to your head," he heard her mutter, then the shower blasted on.

He stared at the closed door. Oh, he'd let it go to his head all right.

She still wanted him.

Denying them both because of an elusive future they couldn't control seemed so wasteful. Surging to his feet, he moved toward the bathroom and knocked softly.

No answer.

Not a "go away," but not exactly an invitation either. His fingers played with the handle, which turned easily in his hand.

She hadn't locked the door.

He stared down at it, and finally decided that he'd take
that
as his invitation.

* * *

Hannah lied. The water was hot, hot, hot and she stood there beneath the spray of the shower, trying to blank out her mind.

It wasn't working.

All she could think about was Zach; how he made her laugh, how he made her feel alive, vibrant. Sexy.

As she soaped up, the water pounded over her icy skin, chasing away the shivers and warming her until she felt languid, almost lazy. As she soaped, her hands running over the body she washed every single day, she felt … different.

Sexy. Damn that man anyway, because now all she could think about was making love with him. And making love with Zach was incredible. He was wild and hot, and yes, outrageously sensual. But far more important, somehow in spite of all the sizzle and heat, they'd managed to connect on a deeper level.

Heart and soul.

Sighing, she cranked up the hot water all the more and closed her eyes.

Heart and soul.

Wasn't that just the problem?

She heard the bathroom door open one nanosecond before the shower curtain slid aside.

"That's not a cold shower," Zach said.

She shrieked and went to cover herself, but before she could do that, he stepped into the shower, crowding her with his body, his piercing eyes, his voice when he leaned over her, pinning his arms on the tile on either side of her.

"Tell me to leave," he said. "And I will, right now. But look me in the eyes when you tell me, so I believe you, because what
I
believe is that we belong here, together, for as long as we can make this work."

It wasn't easy to think past the fact that he was completely naked, as was she, and now all those rough and ready muscles were hard and glistening, his skin sleek and smooth and hotter than the water that cascaded over his shoulders and back. "You believe … what?"

"I want you," he clarified, looking fierce and primitive, his eyes narrow and glittering. "And you want me."

"No, the other," she managed, forcing herself to look into his eyes. "The part about belonging together."

"You heard me." Now he nudged closer, big and strong and undeniably male. She couldn't look away from him, both enthralled and even a little frightened. How had this happened, how had her feelings for him become so … huge?

He must have seen some of her fear. "Don't ever be afraid of me," he whispered, brushing her dripping hair out of her eyes. His hands were gentle as he stroked them down her body. "I won't hurt you this time."

He was referring to her lost virginity, but that had hardly hurt, and even then, only for a flash. No, what she was afraid of was what he made her
feel.
"You didn't hurt me."

His eyes glittered. "No?"

"No," she whispered.

The heat of the water had a swirl of steam surrounding them, and Hannah felt her senses take over, as if it was all a dream. A dream making her body quiver, a dream making her arch toward him in acquiescence.

Zach bent to kiss her, slow and deep. Without hesitation, she opened her mouth, kissing him back with everything she had, and he groaned. His grip on her tightened, and the kiss went wild with urgency. She felt his callused palms sliding up her thighs, felt him shudder as his hand moved over her bare buttocks, his fingers caressing her.

With every movement, he taught her more about pleasure, more about herself than she could have imagined, and she moved against him, lost in the sensual haze. Then she felt herself lifted, pressed back against the tile wall, held in place by Zach's body.