Out Of The Blue (The Wrong Bed #12)(27)

She really could give a part of herself.

She'd always wondered. And in that wondering, had always held a part of herself back. Maybe it'd been self-preservation, she didn't know.

But she hadn't held back last night. And now she was facing the implications of that—that no matter what she'd promised Zach, her feelings for him weren't casual, and sure as hell weren't temporary. One night hadn't been enough.

And while she knew she could have more nights, a few anyway, she was deathly afraid that wouldn't be enough either.

And yet for Zach they would be.

What a mess.

But it was her mess, and she wouldn't drag him any further into it, nor would she ruin what was left of his time off.

Gently, so as not to awaken him, she tried to lift the arm he'd slung across her belly. It weighed a ton. Very quietly she wriggled, trying to scoot out from beneath him. She'd nearly gotten free when his arm suddenly tightened.

He opened one eye.

"Hi," she said inanely. "I didn't mean to wake you—"

"I've heard that one before." His voice was deep, husky.

And thrilling.

So was the way he lifted his arm to trace a finger over her jaw, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I was just going to slip out of here—"

"No." He tugged her close again in a nice hug that made her want to melt.

"You need your rest," she insisted. "But I don't, I'm not tired—"

The way he was looking at her made her want to hold him forever. She had to get out before she gave herself away. "So I'll just—"

"Hannah."

"I forgot to water the fern on the landing, and I think that—"

"Hannah." With a sigh, he opened his other eye. "Sleep."

"But—"

"Shh." Gently, he set a finger to her lips then managed to lift his head and look at her. "I know we need to talk, but I swear I can't put together a single, rational thought. Can we sleep first, just for a little while? Please?"

His eyes were dark and serious. His arms were strong around her, making her feel warm and safe in a way she hadn't felt in a long time, if ever. He wasn't trying to avoid her, or put her off, he was just plain exhausted.

And she was falling for him, big time. If he found out, or even got a hint of it, he'd regret their night together, and she refused to let that happen.

"You sleep," she said quietly, lifting her hand to touch his face just because she wanted to feel him one more time. "I'll just—"

He nuzzled his face against her neck. "You'll sleep too," he said, holding her tight. "Talk later."

"Zach."

"Sleep."

She'd never been one to follow directions or take authority well, but she didn't feel bossed around. The opposite actually.

She felt … cared for. And so she did what he said.

She slept.





* * *





Chapter 10


? ^ ?

Zach woke up alone, and refused to admit he wished Hannah hadn't left, that he'd had her all night long and it still hadn't been enough.

With all his restless energy, he ended up at the beach, where he surfed his troubles away. When he was done, refreshingly numb so that hopefully he couldn't think, he took the path through the grounds of the lodge.

There was a couple on a bench there, wrapped in each other's arms and kissing as if their lives depended on it.

Newlyweds, he figured, with an odd mix of envy and disgust.

Was he going to ever be that much in love? Scary thought. One he immediately dismissed.

He concentrated on his surroundings. He was amazed by all the color and beauty. Someone, probably a group of someones, worked damn hard here. It was a wonderful haven, with the wind blowing lightly, the sound of the surf providing mother nature's music.

The gardens couldn't be the doing of Alexi—she had what his family had always called a "black thumb," killing even the most hardy of houseplants when they'd been young.

And somehow he couldn't imagine the elegant and sophisticated Tara getting dirt beneath her carefully manicured nails and sullying her clothes.

Definitely not her style.

"That's the way," came a sweet, coaxing female voice from the other side of a bush.

Zach stopped in surprise. He recognized that voice.

"That's the way I like to see it."

He'd have known it was Hannah even if her voice hadn't registered right away because his pulse all but stopped, then sped up like a locomotive.

"Come on baby, there you go."

Zach rounded the corner, not sure what he expected to find, but tense and battle-ready—which if he'd stopped to think about, would have made him laugh.

He had no claim on her.

But the sight before him was an even bigger surprise than her words.

She was on her hands and knees, her face streaked down one side, her hands covered to her wrists in soil.

She was talking to the daisies.

Startled at his abrupt appearance, Hannah sat back on her heels and blinked at him before smiling self-consciously. "Hello."

"Do you always talk to the plants?"