Out Of The Blue (The Wrong Bed #12)(41)

*

Fate was not on Hannah's side. The freeways in Los Angeles were at a complete standstill. Then she got a flat tire outside of Santa Barbara and had to call for roadside service.

By the time she exited off Highway 1 and rode into Avila, it was past midnight. Her eyes were gritty with exhaustion and a tension that no amount of quickly downed junk food had eased.

The porch light of the lodge was welcoming, as was the ocean breeze and the unique feeling of being home.

There truly was no place like it.

And Zach was inside, or so she hoped.

Nerves leaped like butterflies in her stomach as she quietly let herself in. Silence greeted her. No one was in the kitchen or the living room, or in their downstairs office.

Everyone was asleep. She checked the front register for Zach, knowing it was unlikely he'd be officially checked in, but she was hoping all the same.

He wasn't listed.

And she could hardly go knock on each door, waking up guests, hoping to get it right.

Disappointment was a bitter pill. Completely deflated, not to mention exhausted, she entered her room, shut the door and sagged against the wall.

Where had he gone?

Kicking off her shoes, she headed directly for the bedroom.

Sleep, she thought, her throat tight, heart heavy.

But as she stepped toward the bed, it came alive.

Then she was blinking as the lamp was abruptly flipped on, staring in stunned shock at Zach, who stared right back at her.

"Thank God," she heard him mutter before he tossed aside the covers and surged to his feet.

He was totally and gloriously naked. "What's going on?" he demanded, putting his hands on his hips and glaring at her. "Where were you?"

"Didn't … didn't Alexi and Tara tell you?" She had a hard time keeping her eyes on his because he was so absolutely beautiful. And so annoyed.

Which, when she thought about it, was how she should feel.

"I've been worried sick!" he said. "Alexi and Tara wouldn't tell me a thing. In fact, they took one look at me and started laughing."

"Were you naked at the time?"

He looked down at himself and swore, then yanked up the jeans he'd dropped on the foot of the bed. "No, I wasn't naked. I got naked after figuring out you weren't coming back." He shoved one foot into his jeans, then nearly fell over, swore again and ended up kicking the material away.

"I don't need pants for this," he said, then before she could blink, he had her flat on her back on her own bed, and covered by his very large, very male body.

"Now," he said, deliberately sliding his hands along her arms, which were over her head, until he held her hands in his, effectively holding her captive. "You were about to tell me what's going on."

Good Lord, he was so fierce, so intense, so absolutely sexy she could hardly see straight. Not to mention her heart had just about leaped out of her chest at the mere sight of him.

But now that her big moment was here, and she could tell him how she felt, she found her tongue had tied itself into knots. "Um … why don't you start?"

"Okay," he said with such mock compliance, she narrowed her eyes.

Zach was never compliant.

"I love you. And I think you love me," he said conversationally. "I also think that you've been telling yourself you couldn't possibly fall in love—the timing's bad, it happened too fast, whatever. You'd rather pretend it doesn't exist."

"I don't pretend!"

"Really? So you expect me to believe you made love with me that first time because you didn't want to clean toilets?"

"I already told you it was more than that. I knew it right away. It was just…"

"Too big to handle?"

"Yes, and I'd only known you a few days, Zach. A few days. It terrified me."

"You've known me all your life. What happened then, what has happened ever since, has nothing to do with anything but us and how we feel for each other."

"Yes," she whispered. And there was more, so much more, but she was feeling a little shy now that the moment was here and Zach was on top of things.

Literally.

Honestly, she was having trouble putting thoughts together in her head with all his intensity and gorgeous eyes, not to mention his bare, hard, warm body stretched out over hers.

"Did I tell you the bust went just like clockwork?" he asked calmly. "That I was given a new undercover assignment? And, oh by the way, I quit my job?"

She went utterly still. "You what? You didn't tell me that's what you were going to do."

"I know." He gentled his grip on her, letting go of her hands to cup her face. "I was afraid, Hannah."

"You're not afraid of anything."

"Oh, yes I am. I'm afraid you don't really understand how I feel about you. I'm afraid you don't feel the same way back. I'm afraid of living without you in my life."

When she opened her mouth to speak, he leaned down and softly brushed his lips over hers. "Don't interrupt I'm trying to make sure I make you feel so loved you can't turn me down."

Turn him down … for what?

But then he was kissing her again. "There," he whispered, smiling down at her, his eyes filled with so many things she could hardly breathe. "That's the expression I was looking for."