Out of the Blue (4 page)

Chapter 4

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"
I
can't let you sleep on your own couch," Zach said firmly, for the third time. "Take your bed. I'll be fine downstairs."

"Oh, Zach. No. Not when this is all my fault. But it's only because I—" Hannah looked at him, her eyes half closed, with soft shadows beneath them. She held herself in a way that told him she was every bit as tired as he was.

No wonder. It was well past midnight and she'd probably been on her feet since early that morning, serving people, running around and taking care of the inn.

"Come on," he said quietly. "Time for sleep."

"Only if you stay here."

"On your couch."

"Yes," she whispered.

Both of them stood in her bedroom, staring at the bed in question, which was still a little mussed from Zach's first attempt at sleeping.

It was a vivid reminder of how Hannah had slid into it with him, how he'd come fully awake with her sprawled beneath him, locked in his arms.

She was dressed now, having hastily thrown her clothes back on, but she hadn't been dressed then, and he knew he'd never forget how she'd looked wearing nothing but a few scraps of silk. Or the way she'd looked at
him,
devouring him with her eyes as if she'd never seen anything like him.

It'd been a long time since he'd felt that hard, fast shock of arousal, but he'd certainly felt it then, even as out of it as he'd been.

Hell, he
still
felt it.

Quickly, he glanced at her, wondering if she had any of the same thoughts racing through her mind.

It was hard to tell, since she wouldn't meet his gaze no matter how he craned his neck.

Unfortunately, he wasn't very in tune to women, at least at the moment. Living undercover as he had, within a tough crowd of gang-bangers and basically the scum of the earth, he hadn't even been in close proximity to a woman in a long time.

Too long to possibly guess how to handle this.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I don't mind going downstairs."

"I'm positive." She flashed him a shaky smile, and moved over to her dresser. With a smile still pasted on her face, she lit a match and held it to the first of three candles she had there. "I mean we're both adults, right?" She lit the second candle, then shot him another smile. "There's no reason we can't both— Ouch!" She dropped the now burned-out match and brought her fingers to her mouth. "It's nothing," she said before he could move toward her. "Do you like candles, Zach?"

Zach figured he must have missed something in his exhaustion, because he definitely hadn't followed her train of thought from the bed to candles. But there was no missing her nervousness. He lifted her chin with his fingers, planning on gently telling her to relax, that he would take the couch, and she the bed, and they could both get some desperately needed sleep.

But at the feel of her soft skin, the strangest thing happened. Something close to an electric current jolted him, only it wasn't painful. No, it was much worse than that, it was … nice. Warm.

Which made it very dangerous.

He wasn't looking for nice and warm. He wasn't looking for a woman to stare up at him as Hannah was, with wonder and awareness.

Hell, all he'd been looking for was a bed. Okay, and maybe a woman, but someone else, someone … temporary. Hannah wasn't a temporary woman, she was his sister's friend, a woman who would always be around in some form or another because of that. That didn't equal temporary, not in his book.

But his fingers had a mind of their own, and they liked the feel of her so much they didn't let go, but stroked their way to her jaw and cheek.

Her mouth opened, as if she had to do that just to breathe. His own breathing was suddenly just as challenged. "Tell me to leave," he murmured.

"Stay."

"Hannah—" She didn't, couldn't, understand. He was exhausted, dizzy with it. Add to that the fact that he couldn't get the picture out of his head, the one of her half-naked in his arms, which meant he was still aroused. It was wrong.

Eyes lit with something he didn't understand, she moved across the room and hit the power button on her portable stereo.

Soft jazz filled the room.

Then she stared at him, as if waiting for some reaction.

"What about my sister's room?" he asked desperately. He couldn't do this, not with her. "I could—"

"She doesn't have a couch. You know how she is, her room is so spartan."

"Bad timing." The music and candles combined with her expressive, almost hopeful eyes were going to prove too much for him any second now.
"Really
bad timing."

"Oh, Zach. This is all so wrong. I'm trying to … I wanted to … darn it!" She covered her eyes in misery. "I can't imagine what you must have thought of me when I got into bed with you like that."

"There wasn't much thinking involved," he told her honestly. "At first I thought you were just a dream." A really
hot
dream.

"Really?" She dropped her hands from her face and actually looked intrigued!

Letting out a low laugh that released exactly none of his tension, he nodded. "Really. And then when I came all the way awake, and you were beneath me like that, I…"

She licked her lips, probably a nervous habit, but damn if that didn't put the immediacy right back between them.

"I didn't crawl beneath you," she said, her voice husky. Her lips moist from her tongue.

She was close enough to … kiss.
Kiss.
He couldn't get kissing her out of his mind.

"You
sorta
… put me there," she said softly. "You were confused. My fault." Her voice trembled.

"I scared you. I'm sorry."

"No. No, you don't understand."

He was fascinated by the play of candlelight over her hair. Lightly, he stroked a hand down her back, over her hair, feeling the soft, long strands catch on his work-roughened skin.

"I wasn't afraid of you." It seemed very important to her that he believe her. "I would never be afraid of you."

He was thinking if she could read his thoughts, she might not feel so confident of that. "Because I'm a cop?"

"Because I know you.
Knew
you," she corrected.

"Ten years." He was riveted by the look in her eyes, by the feeling she was waiting for … something, but he didn't know what. "I can't believe it's been so long. You were so young when I last saw you, and now… Look at you, you're beautiful."

"Zach—"

"We never got a chance to say a proper hello, did we?"

"Not a proper one," she said, her lips curving. "No, we didn't."

Slowly, he drew her close. For a brotherly hug.

A nice-to-see-you-again hug.

Big mistake.

His body knew it instantly, at the first shock of holding her against him.
Again.
His mind knew it, too, it was just slower to respond because the feel of her warm, soft curves pretty much blocked out anything else.

"Your side—"

"It's fine," he assured her, and she nodded, tipping her head up, closing her eyes. His body responded automatically, leaning toward her for the kiss—

Wait. No. No kiss.
What was he doing?
With an oath, he pulled away.

She let out a soft sound of disappointment.

This couldn't be happening. He couldn't be wanting her like this. She was his baby sister's best friend. She was his own best friend's baby sister!

And yet the feel of her against him…

"Sleep," he said, far less firmly than he meant, but dammit, he wasn't just a little turned on here.

He was dying.

"Yes, sleep." She cleared her throat and backed away. She glanced at the candles with a sort of … hurt?

He had no idea what that was about.

"I'm going to go downstairs," she said a bit breathlessly. "To get an extra supply of bedding for the couch. Make yourself … at home."

That would be difficult in his current condition. Sleep would be impossible. "Is it all right if I take a shower?" A cold one, a
very
cold one.

"Help yourself." As if she was late for a wildfire, she hightailed it to the door.

He showered quickly, then toweled off, thinking if he didn't lie down soon, he was going to fall down. Eyes gritty, muscles quivering faintly with exhaustion, he hung up the towel and swore.

So used to sleeping in the buff, he hadn't thought to grab clean clothes.

He'd left his bag … where? By the front door. With a huge yawn, he grabbed the towel again, slung it around his hips and tiptoed out, hoping that Hannah had come back and had already fallen asleep.

The lights were off, which he took as a good sign. She'd gone to sleep then. Making his way
in
the dark, he tried to be quiet. He tried so hard that he tripped over his own shoes, nearly killing himself in the dark. Pain arched through his side at the sharp movement.

Biting back his oath, he stood again … without his towel, which had fallen. Though the movement was torture, he reached down, searching, but couldn't find the thing anywhere. Finally, he went on without it because he was not only standing there naked as a jaybird, but he was freezing. Feeling for the door, he once again bent down, groping for the bag he'd so thoughtlessly tossed when he'd thought he was in his own room.

As he slung it over his shoulder and carefully straightened, the light came on, blinding him. Lifting a hand up to cover the glare, he heard a gasp.

Hannah's gasp.

She stood by the light switch, still fully dressed. "Okay, this time you scared me," she whispered.

He stood there, stark naked, with Hannah staring at him, eyes huge and dilated, mouth open. "Uh … Hannah?"

"Yes?"

He held his duffel bag in front of him. "Could you cut the light?"

Her gaze was glued to the bag. "You're naked."

No kidding. "I lost my towel in the dark, I forgot my clothes, and … and dammit, why aren't you in bed asleep?"

"I'm not taking the bed,
you're
the guest."

Her eyes hadn't moved from their target, and they were once again filled with that heated awareness. It wouldn't take but a second more of this to completely void out the effects of his cold shower. "Hannah?"

"Hmm?"

"The lights?"

"Oh!" She reached out, then stopped. "If I turn them off, how will you find your way?"

"I'll manage," he assured her through his teeth as he forced a reassuring smile.

"You'll hurt yourself. I'll just close my eyes." Which she promptly did.

"Fine." He hunkered down for his dropped towel, which he could see now thanks to the light, but before he could secure it, her eyes flew open again.

"Hannah!"

She bit her lip and looked only slightly remorseful as her gaze once again ate him up. "I just wanted to tell you, the couch is far too small. You'll bump your side or your head all night, or even fall off, or—"

"Okay!" At this point, he was willing to agree to anything if she'd either flip off the light or keep her eyes closed. "The bed then, fine. Just
close your eyes!"

"Yes! Right!"

Grabbing his towel, he covered himself as best he could, took his duffel and headed toward her bedroom.

The damn woman followed.

"I can find the bed all by myself," he told her.

"I just want to make sure…"

He peered over his shoulder and found her studying his butt. "What are you doing!"

Her gaze jerked up to meet his. Her cheeks reddened. "Nothing!" Guiltily, she scooted back, but remained in the doorway.

He sat on the bed. "You know, I really think I can take it from here."

Nodding, she proceeded to … stay right where she was.

He might have just ignored her, rolling over and falling back into oblivion, but since he'd never in his life taken the easy way, and since she was looking at him with a whole host of things in her eyes, the least of which was a yearning and loneliness that stoked his own, he sighed. "I've got to tell you, the way you're looking at me is going to make sleep impossible."

She swallowed, hard. "You're looking back at me in the same way."

Yeah, he probably was. "Well, how about we both stop. Because if you keep looking at me like that…"

"What?" she whispered. "What will happen?"

"Just stop, okay?" When she only blinked, he rubbed his tired eyes. "It's been a long time since I felt I was in the real world. Back with friends. Back with a woman," he clarified when she just stared at him blankly.

It was a moment before she spoke. "How long is a long time?"

"I can't even remember."

"Well, it couldn't have been longer than it's been for me," she said.

Dangerous conversation. He'd been celibate too long, and now she was admitting the same. After this week, he probably wouldn't get back up here for another couple of years at least, and Hannah meant far too much to him to take advantage of her like that. "Good night," he said softly.