Zach shouted her name and came, too. “Frannie, Frannie, Frannie...” He gathered her close and buried his face in her neck.
When she could speak, she stroked his hair with one hand. “Well, that was nice.”
“Mmm...”
Now that the main event was over, Frannie realized her butt was cold, and the rest of her was sweaty. “We could try the bed next,” she said, trying to be helpful.
“I can’t feel my legs.”
His aggrieved complaint made her laugh. “That’s your problem, wild man. I’m not the one who went all Tarzan on the furniture.”
Finally, he leaned back and broke the connection. Holding out two hands, he helped her down. “What can I say? I seem to be addicted to you.”
Twelve
Frannie searched Zach’s face and his words for any clue that such a thing displeased him, but as far as she could tell, he was plenty happy with the current situation.
Leaning into him, she yawned. “Do you have a bag in the car?”
A laugh rumbled through his chest. “Unfortunately, no. When I left the house, I hadn’t thought this through.”
“You want to go home and grab a few things while I shower?”
He tugged on her hair to tip back her head and kiss her lazily. “Or you could come to my place.”
This was a nice hotel, but it didn’t hold a candle to Zach’s condo. “That works. Give me ten minutes to freshen up, and we’ll go.”
She was in denial, trying Zach’s carpe diem attitude on for size. Living in the moment. A lazy Saturday morning tomorrow...in bed with Zachary? She didn’t have the courage to do the smart thing and keep her distance.
Her mind shied away from thinking about the danger in his apartment. That stupid manuscript lay in wait, mocking her, reminding her that Zach wasn’t the open, uncomplicated man he seemed.
After a quick trip to the bathroom, she used the smaller of her two bags and grabbed jeans and a soft cotton sweater and the few other items she would need for an overnight stay. Did he mean for her to be with him for longer than that?
She hated the uncertainty.
When she was ready, Zachary carried her bag out to the car. At his condo, Zach flipped on the fire and opened a bottle of wine. “I’ll be back,” he said.
When he returned, he had changed into soft, black athletic pants and an old navy-and-white Harvard T-shirt that strained across his chest. His feet were bare despite the fact that it was November.
Now Frannie wished she had thought to change into something more comfortable. The clothes she had packed were for tomorrow.
Zach dropped down beside her on the sofa and found the tender skin where her boot ended and her bare leg began. He traced his finger back and forth. “You’re welcome to my robe, Bug. I rarely wear it. You’ll find it on the hook behind the bathroom door.”
The outfit she was wearing was comfortable. If she were naked beneath Zachary’s robe, she’d be opening herself up to all sorts of mischief. Then again, she had been fully dressed in her hotel room, and that hadn’t deterred Zach at all.
“Thanks,” she said. “I think I will.”
In the bathroom, she couldn’t help remembering her shower in this very room with the man of the house. Despite her recent orgasm, little licks of flame settled between her legs and made her restless. Had he turned her into a woman with perpetual cravings?
She had always enjoyed sex, even solo sex. But everything that had come before Zach seemed tepid in retrospect. Now she understood what all the fuss was about.
When she returned to the den, Zach had dimmed the lights and fetched a large blanket from somewhere. He patted the sofa cushion. “Join me, Frannie. I found a Star Wars marathon. How does that sound?”
“Nice,” she said cautiously. She was good at statistics, among other things. The chances of the two of them making it through even one movie without jumping each other’s bones were minimal at best.
She curled into his embrace with her cheek pressed against the side of his rib cage, cushioned by his T-shirt-clad chest. They both propped their feet on the coffee table. Those four feet, two masculine, two feminine, spoke to the differences between them. Frannie was a tall woman, and her feet were longer than the average female’s. Beside Zach’s, though, hers looked absolutely petite.
Was it odd to be turned on by a man’s feet? His were big and well-groomed. Her arches were high, and her toenails were painted red. Frannie liked the way those four feet looked together.
He ruffled the ends of her hair as the opening credits began to roll and the distinctive music played. “What are you thinking, Bug? I can hear the wheels turning.”
She shrugged. “I was admiring your feet.”
That surprised him. He busted out a laugh. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. They’re sexy.”
He wiggled his toes. “If you like any of my body parts, I’m happy.”
They were quiet...content...for the first forty-five minutes of the movie. But sometimes even George Lucas and Harrison Ford were no match for pheromones.
Frannie had been lulled into a haze of pleasure simply by inhaling the scent of Zach’s shower soap. In his embrace, she felt at home. Like she belonged here. But what was Zach thinking? A niggle of regret burrowed into her contentment.
She had given so much of herself. Made herself vulnerable in every way a woman can. Had it been a giant mistake to offer him so much power over her happiness?
He seemed relaxed, too. Eventually, he began stroking her collarbone where the neckline of the robe had gaped. His left hand still held the remote, but the arm and hand he had tucked around her shoulder were free.
As caresses went, it was innocent. He never even strayed lower toward her breast. But already, the robe seemed too hot.
Frannie tried not to move. She tried to be quiet. When he turned and kissed her temple, a tiny moan slipped out. “Zach...” She whispered his name, perhaps not loudly enough for him to hear.
Zach hit the mute button and dropped the remote. Gently, he eased her onto her back and moved over her. The kiss started slow and sweet but ignited quickly into something else. When he unknotted the sash of her robe and peeled back the two sides, he sucked in a breath. “You can tell me to stop,” he croaked, his gaze fixed on her breasts.
She reached up and cupped his face, loving the way his eyes darkened and his cheekbones flushed when he wanted her. “Don’t stop.”
Everything went hazy and slow after that. Perhaps Zach was trying to make up for the warp-speed sex in her hotel room. She wouldn’t have complained about a single thing, but this was nice, too. So very nice.
He took her wrists and lifted her arms over her head. “Keep them there,” he said, his teasing smile softening the command. His hands on her breasts were warm and firm. He licked her nipples lazily, wetting them again and again until they puckered and ached.
Finally, when she thought she couldn’t bear it a moment longer, he returned to her mouth. The kiss was firm, his lips on hers reckless and persuasive.
They were pressed together, shoulders to knees. She could feel the hard thrust of his erection against her stomach. “Get undressed,” she begged. Their time together was limited. The world would intrude far sooner than Frannie wanted.
“I’m having too much fun.” He muttered the words as he kissed the side of her neck, sucking gently. When his tongue teased the whorls of her ear, she gasped.
She was so ready for him that her hips lifted off the sofa. Or they tried to. Zach’s weight pinned her pleasurably. She was helpless. At his mercy. And she loved it. Loved him.
How could she not? She wanted this to be real, but she was so very afraid he was playing around.
He knew her intimately, her brain and her body. No other man had ever been so perfect for her. Not perfect. That was too much to ask. But definitely perfect
for her. She wanted to tell him. He’d been the keeper of many of her secrets over the years.
Now, when it mattered most, she was afraid.
To have her love rejected would be crushing. But she would never know, because the only chance she would let herself take was this one more interlude.
At last, he rolled to his feet and stripped rapidly. What would it be like to share this with him every night? To share every aspect of his life?
Before she could pursue that fantasy, he was on her and in her, breathing her name.
He took her slowly this time...in measured thrusts that gave them both maximum pleasure. His eyes were closed. Did he care that it was Frannie welcoming him into her body? Or was she simply an available woman?
As if he had read her mind, he groaned five simple words. “I care about you, Frannie,” he said.
Was it true? He hadn’t trusted her about the company and what she had found. How could she trust him now? The tepid phrase shouldn’t have affected her so strongly. But the way he said it gave her a sliver of hope. They shared a past, a significant past. Could he see her as part of his life going forward?
And I love you, Zach.
Because she dared not say what she really wanted to say, she kept quiet. The oddest mix of emotional pain and physical exhilaration wrapped her in confusion. She lowered her arms and linked them around his waist, feeling the way his skin radiated heat. This was where women and men connected.
All the differences between them faded as he gave himself to her physically, loving her well with his body but never yielding the parts of him that were his and his alone.
When it was over, and they were both sated and sleepy, they abandoned the sofa and headed for the master suite. Their shared shower this time was more platonic and expedient than before. They climbed into bed and settled with unison sighs.
As Zach reached to turn out the light, Frannie put a hand on his chest. “Wait,” she said. “I have a confession to make.” Her trespass had been weighing on her, and she couldn’t stand it any longer. Though she hadn’t snooped intentionally, the outcome was the same. She had learned that Zach had secrets, that he was giving her only a part of himself. Maybe telling him was a mistake, but she had to know. She would apologize and then see if he was willing to let her into his head and his heart, not only his bed.
He rolled onto his side, propping his head on one hand. “Intriguing. Is this some naughty position you want to try?”
She grimaced, sitting up cross-legged. “When I was here before, you let me borrow a phone charger. As I was going through your desk, I stumbled across a manuscript. Your manuscript.”
His expression went blank. He scooted up against the headboard and folded his arms across his chest. “Did you read it?”
“The first four pages. Then I realized I shouldn’t have, so I stopped. Why have you never told me about this? A book, Zach? That’s so exciting.”
At first, he didn’t respond. His gaze was hooded, his jawline carved in stone. “There’s nothing to tell.”
Her heart sank, despite the fact that she had predicted this very reaction. “Are you kidding me?” She frowned. “This is amazing. You were always a better writer than me in school. Your term papers were works of art. But a novel? I’m so impressed. I have an agent friend in New York who would be willing to take a look, I’m sure. Or maybe you already have an agent. Do you?”
The words tumbled out, though she knew they were futile. She was trying desperately to reach him and going about it all wrong.
“Enough, Frannie.”
He was curt. Distant.
“I don’t understand. This is huge. And what an accomplishment. It is finished, right? Have you started on a second one?” She was so caught up in trying to break through to him that she forgot how stubborn he could be.
He rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand. “The book is something I’ve dabbled with on occasion. Since my father’s accident, I’ve had no time for dabbling, believe me. Leave it alone, Frannie. I know what I am and what I’m not.”
The words poured forth in a torrent, their meaning clear. Stay the hell out of my business. Did he really care about writing? Or was this book one more in a long line of pursuits he had tried?
The level of her disappointment was probably disproportionate. Even though she thought having a completed manuscript was a big deal, Zach wasn’t prepared to share his passion for the project or his dreams. End of story.
Even worse, this whole thing pointed to Zach’s propensity to start things he didn’t finish. Was Frannie just another something or someone he would dabble with and then walk away?
“I thought we were headed somewhere special...that we were finally connecting. That you cared about what I feel for you. But you’re still hiding, Zach, still ignoring your incredible gifts and talents.”
“That’s your opinion, Bug. Not mine.” The words were choppy. Curt.
“Fine. New topic.” She tucked aside her hurt feelings—again—and changed tack. If he couldn’t handle anything personal, he could at least deal with the business at hand. “I want to spend more time at headquarters this weekend. If we’re having a meeting with your brothers on Wednesday, I need to have everything ready. It would really be helpful if you would sit with me tomorrow. I can show you the things I’ve found so far. I think it would convince you that your old family friend isn’t who you think he is.”
Zach had been displeased and reluctant to talk about his book.
Now, she had made things worse. His gaze went from discomfort to glacial. “I have plans,” he said curtly. “I’m flying out to go canoeing with a friend in the Boundary Waters Wilderness.”
“In November? Isn’t it freezing?”
“We do it every year.”
“Zach, this is your family’s livelihood. Someone has tried to hurt you professionally and physically. Can’t you cancel or reschedule?”
He didn’t answer her directly. “I’ll be back for the meeting on Wednesday,” he said. “That’s the best I can do.”
She hadn’t expected the night to go this way. Instead of curling up with her lover and drifting off to sleep, she and Zach were now on opposite sides of a chasm. Maybe it was her fault...partly.
Because of her need to connect with him, she had torn something fragile. In wanting to know where he stood, she had poked and prodded and exposed the truth about their relationship. It wasn’t nearly as significant or as strong as she had imagined.
Her stomach cramped with regret and despair. “I think it’s best if I go back to the hotel,” she said, the words barely audible.
“If that’s what you want.”
His stony silence while she gathered her things hurt more than she thought possible. When she was wearing her jeans and sweater and had shoved her work clothes into her small suitcase, she turned to walk away.
“Do you want me to drive you there?” Zach asked. “I will. It’s late.”
She didn’t want his reluctant sense of honor to offer her anything, much less his presence during an uncomfortable car ride. “No.” When she glanced over her shoulder, he hadn’t moved. He was still propped up in bed like the arrogant alpha male he was.
“Goodbye, Zach.”
All the way to the front door, she half expected him to come after her. But she had underestimated his stubbornness and his need to call the shots. The frustrating man had to hold himself aloof. The dabbling might be important to him, but by hiding from the world and from Frannie, no one, including him, would ever know his true potential.
She let herself out and let the lock click behind her. The sound echoed the death knell of her dreams.
Her high school crush, her intellectual equal, her lover extraordinaire was not interested in what Frances Wickersham had to offer.
* * *
She slept on and off, enough to rise when her alar
m sounded at eight thirty. Though her heart was a chunk of ice in her chest, she refused to cry anymore over a worthless, intractable, infuriating man. It was fun while it lasted. The sooner she could leave Portland and get back to her normal life, the better.
To that end, she dressed and headed for SRO headquarters. She hadn’t asked Zach what time he was flying out. Imagining him on a plane, putting distance between himself and Frannie, gave her a hollow feeling in her stomach.
Even if he made it back for Wednesday’s meeting, the two of them were done.
Work helped. It always did. She returned to Edward Cordell’s office and continued compiling the notes she had begun.
The hours flew by. She had forgotten to bring anything for lunch. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t hungry, anyway. By three o’clock, her head was pounding, but she had what she needed. To finish the job, she had to tick off the last employee computers on her list. That should take her up until the meeting and then maybe a day or two more.
If things went well, she could fly home in a week.
She had hoped against hope that Zachary would agree to look at the evidence and change his mind about her findings. Even if he didn’t want to believe her, she had prayed he would have a change of heart about their personal life.
When she heard a noise in the hallway, her heart leaped. He wasn’t on a plane after all.
As she turned to make sure it was him, something hard made brutal contact with the back of her head.
The world went black.
* * *
Zachary was in such a vile, dark mood, it was a good thing no one passed him in the parking lot. He might have scared his neighbors.
He tossed his bags in the back of his car and headed out. Last night’s skirmish with Frannie still infuriated him. Even so, the memory of her face when she left him was a raw ache in his chest.
Negotiating Saturday traffic was a breeze. He actually passed SRO headquarters, though the building wasn’t technically on his route. Was she there? Did he care? He had his own life to live. He had done just fine without Frannie for a dozen years. He didn’t need her now. He didn’t need any woman.
Secrets of a Playboy Page 15
