The next morning, when Summer awoke, her ankle was so much better she could almost walk without limping if she used one crutch. When she went into the kitchen she discovered that Zach had already cooked and eaten breakfast. She looked down at his dishes in the sink and realized he was avoiding her.
Rolling the scrambled egg and bacon he’d left for her into a tortilla, she walked outside and saw him swimming laps in his pool. When she waved, he got out.
As he dried off, it was all she could do not to stare, even though he wore swimming trunks.
His eyes were guarded as he strode up to her. “How’s the ankle?”
“Much better,” she whispered, lowering her lashes.
“Good. Bob is standing by to fly you to L.A. So, whenever you’re ready, just call him. I know you’ve got work, and so do I, so I won’t keep you.”
He was so remote and cool that her acute disappointment and hurt felt like withdrawal, which was ridiculous.
“What about next weekend?” she whispered, her voice catching. “Do you still want to see me?”
Zach sucked in a breath. “Like you said, maybe spending the weekends together wasn’t such a good idea. So- you won.” His voice was cold, revealing nothing.
He slung a towel across his shoulders and turned away, dismissing her as if she were of no importance to him.
“Are you mad at me?”
“Yeah. Mad at myself, too.”
“Zach…”
“You have your real life…in the theater. And I have mine. I think we should just cool it.”
He was right, of course.
“Or maybe not,” she said huskily as she focused on his profile. “I want to know why you blackmailed me and then changed your mind, why you were so nice last night and are so cold today.”
“Maybe I started thinking about what happened fifteen years ago and don’t see this going anywhere positive.”
He wasn’t making sense. Last week he’d wanted to punish her. And now… What did he want?
“What if I disagree?” she whispered. On impulse, she leaned forward on her tiptoes and kissed his rough cheek tentatively.
When he jerked away as if burned, she beamed. “I enjoyed last night, you see. Too much. And I thought maybe you did, too…just a little. You were sweet.”
“Sweet?” He almost snarled the word.
She smiled gently. “And I thank you for what you’re doing for Tuck, too…taking him out to the tech school and all…especially after what he did to you.”
“Forget it,” he snapped.
“What if I can’t?”
“Soon you’ll fly to L.A. to film those love scenes with Jones. Don’t waste your charm or blatant come-on sexuality on me. Save it for him.”
“I don’t care about him.”
Not believing her, he scowled.
“I don’t.”
When she edged closer and held her hand to his face, Zach froze. At the first light touch of her fingertips on his warm throat, he shuddered. When he tried to wrench away, her hands came around his neck so she could hold him close. She had no idea what she was doing or why she was doing it, she only knew she didn’t want to part from him so dispassionately, when something new and wonderful was beginning in her heart.
“Can’t you at least kiss me goodbye,” she whispered, too aware of her taut nipples pressing against his hard, bare chest.
“Not a good idea,” he growled.
“You sure about that?” She rubbed her hips against the hard ridge of his erection, sighing as her body melted against his.
On a groan, he reached for her, gripping her with strong, sure arms, pulling her close, like a man who was starving for her.
She was starving, too, starving for the intoxicating sensuality of his mouth claiming hers. He tasted so good, so right. For fifteen years, she’d wanted this and denied it. Why should she fight it now? Moaning, she kissed him back.
His savage grip crushed her. His hungry passion ignited unmet needs. Murmuring his name feverishly, her fingertips ran through his thick, inky hair.
“All weekend I wanted this,” she whispered. “Wanted you. Wanted to touch you, to kiss you…to be in your arms…even though I tried to tell myself I didn’t. Friday night I lay in bed, wanting this more than I’d ever wanted anything. And last night after we talked, I craved it even more, craved it so much I felt like I was about to burst. Then you went upstairs, and I felt so lost and alone in that bed. I-I couldn’t sleep for hours. You told me you’d make me want you, and you were right.”
“You shouldn’t say these things.”
“I don’t understand any of it and yet…it’s the truth.”
“Hell,” he muttered. “This isn’t some damn role you’ve got to understand. Life’s messy and chaotic and doesn’t make a lick of sense most of the time. Like now. Like last night. I decided you’re the one woman I should have nothing to do with. And yet here I am…”
“Tell me about it,” she whispered. “You’re definitely bad for me, too.”
When his mouth took hers again, his desperation and urgency made her dizzily excited.
“This is crazy,” she whispered as her fingertips glided across the damp hair on his bronzed flesh. “I didn’t want to come this weekend, and now I can’t bear to go.”
“I don’t want you to go, either.”
“Punish me like you swore you would. Make love to me,” she whispered.
The next thing she knew, he was lifting her, kissing her wildly as he carried her up the stairs, into the house and then down the hall to her room. Locking the door, he drew her down to the bed.
In no time, she stripped, but even in her rush, she enjoyed the striptease, for never had she played to a more fascinated audience. He lay on the bed watching as she undid her blouse in the shadows. Button by button, her slim fingers skimmed downward. He held his breath, his eyes burning when she threw her blouse aside and unhooked her bra.
“You are exquisite,” he rasped when she slid her lacy panties down her thighs. Vaguely she was aware of him rustling with a foil wrapper. Then, reaching for her, he lay down beside her and buried his face in the curve of her neck.
She let her head fall back, offering him her breasts. “You’re pretty okay yourself.”
His lips traced the length of her throat. He tasted first one nipple and then the other until they beaded into damp, pink pearls. She trembled with an enjoyment she couldn’t hide, which she could see excited him even more.
When his lips found hers again, she fell back against the pillows and opened her mouth so his tongue could slide inside.
“Strip for me,” she whispered. “I want to see you naked.”
“Wicked girl.”
Grinning, he ripped off his swimming trunks. Her breath stopped. He was huge and gorgeous, magnificently virile. While she watched approvingly through the screen of her lowered lashes, he tossed his trunks into a far corner.
Reaching toward him, she slid her hand over his manhood, circling it so that he inhaled sharply. While she touched him, he caressed her most secret, delicate folds with blunt-fingered hands, teasing her sensitive nub of flesh until her breath came hard and fast and she wanted him inside her more than anything.
But he refused for a while longer, teasing her with his mouth and hands while she grew hotter and wilder.
