"I'll get warm just thinking about you in the bathtub."
Her heart did a crazy, unruly somersault. Later, she and her wayward heart would have to have a good ole heart-to-heart talk. She had three things to tell it; it was great, it was fabulous, it was over.
With this stern reminder foremost in her mind, she pretended not to hear the intimate note in his voice, or notice the way his gaze slid over her with ever increasing heat. As for his remark, she ignored that altogether. “I'll j-j-just go take a b-b-bath, then.” And you can burst into flames for all I care, she added silently, daring her heart to misbehave again. “Hot ch-ch-chocolate sounds g-good."
To show she wasn't completely heartless, she grabbed a clean towel from a shelf built into the wall next to the bathroom and pitched it to him—football style. “Might be a g-good idea to d-dry your hair,” she stammered just before she slammed the bathroom door.
Zack caught the towel, grinning at the closed door. When he heard the click of the lock, he chuckled. So, Justine hadn't forgotten his habit of joining her in the shower. Good.
Wisely pushing the steamy memory from his mind for the moment, Zack laid the towel aside and took off his coat, running shoes, damp socks, and after a slight hesitation, his wet jeans. After all, Justine had see him in less, hadn't she? And surely she didn't expect him to remain in his wet clothes until she got out of the bathroom? Clad in boxer briefs and his shirt, Zack scooped up his wet pants and went in search of a dryer.
The living room and kitchen formed one large room, separated by a breakfast bar. Zack found a compact washer and dryer tucked behind a curtain adjacent to the kitchen. He threw his jeans in the dryer and turned it on. He took two steps away, paused, and swung around to punch the button marked low heat. With a satisfied smile, he headed to a closed door next to the bathroom, hoping to find something to put on over his briefs. He may be sly, but he wasn't stupid; Justine would probably shriek if she emerged from the bathroom to find him nearly naked.
Just as he suspected, he discovered a bedroom when he turned on the light. He stood on the threshold, his interested gaze taking in the antique-looking decor. An old-fashioned four-poster bed was situated catty-corner in the room; a dark, gleaming highboy stood next to the bed, and a matching dresser dominated the east wall. His gaze lingered on the thick, downy comforter patterned with pretty roses. The furniture, along with the matching pillows shams and curtains reminded him of a cozy bed and breakfast he'd stayed in during a layover in Atlanta.
He looked at the bed again, easily imagining Justine burrowed beneath the covers fast asleep, or stretching her naked body like a sleepy cat upon awakening. The thought intensified the ache in his groin to an almost painful degree. To distract himself, he moved into the room and looked behind the door.
No robe conveniently hanging on a hook.
Unwilling to give up, Zack opened a closet door and gingerly glanced through the row of clothing. He found a faded green terry cloth robe and slipped it on, inhaling the faint scent of Justine's perfume, a light, flowery fragrance that seemed uniquely her. The robe barely reached his knees and the belt was too short for tying, but it would have to do. At least it wasn't flowered.
Turning out the light, he shut the door and padded to the kitchen, stopping briefly in the living room to edge the thermostat up a few notches. He filled the tea kettle and set it to heating before he rummaged through the cabinets in search of hot chocolate. If she didn't have instant, she was out of luck. Finally, he found the packages next to a box of cat food. Did Justine have a cat? he wondered. He'd seen no signs of a pet, yet the cat food indicated she had one. Of course she has a pet, you dope. She owns a pet shop.
Frowning, he nudged the cat food box aside, his brows climbing. Iguana food? What the hell was an—
Something nibbled on his toes.
Something sharp and hungry.
Slowly Zack glanced down at his bare feet, fully expecting to find a nice kitty having a little fun.
He froze.
It wasn't a kitty; it was a huge green lizard. No, it was a baby dinosaur, complete with thorny-looking ridges from head to toe. It had to be at least three feet long, if he counted its long, wicked-looking tail. Since it was as ugly as the rest of him, Zack was inclined to.
Whatever it was, Zack wasn't about to let it make a meal of his toes. He scampered backward, slamming the box of cocoa mix onto the counter.
The iguana—by this time he realized the identity of his new friend—followed. It bent its thorny head and opened its mouth, reaching for his toes.
Zack cursed softly and moved out of reach again, not really frightened but definitely concerned for his toes. He racked his brain, trying to remember what little he knew about iguanas. Were they meat eaters? More importantly, was this one? Or did he just have a thing for toes?
"Easy, boy,” Zack said. He watched the iguana crawl across the tiled floor. It didn't move fast, but it was relentless, its black beady eyes locked on Zack's feet as if he envisioned a feast.
Inspiration struck Zack. Stepping quickly around the dinosaur wannabe, he snatched the box of iguana food from the cabinet and poured a generous portion on the floor in the iguana's path. He stood back. Way back.
The overgrown lizard turned its fat body and crawled over the pile of pellets as if they were invisible—and kept on coming.
Zack was tired of dancing with the damned thing. The tea kettle was whistling, and any moment now Justine would emerge from the bathroom to find him penned against the wall like a coward. “Look, you ugly—"
"Thor. His name is Thor,” Justine informed him, her voice shaking with laughter. “Here, put these on."
Instinctively, Zack caught the pair of socks. He was torn between a manly urge to scorn her rescue, and the urge to save his toes from this T-Rex wannabe. And did she really think socks would stop this relentless monster?
Meanwhile, Thor was stretching his neck in an effort to reach his toes again. Zack lifted his foot and balanced himself on one leg. The iguana shifted his thick body and aimed for his other set.
"Put them on and he'll leave you alone."
Okay, okay, Zack snarled with silent exasperation. He danced around, nearly toppling over as he drew the socks over his feet. They were a tight fit, but he managed. Cautiously, he planted both feet on the floor in front of the waiting iguana.
Thor sniffed, then turned aside, lumbering in the direction of the living room. His long tail swished slowly back and forth as he moved.
"If he's dangerous, why do you keep him?” Zack demanded, his embarrassment surfacing as anger. He wasn't normally afraid of critters, but this thing hadn't been normal.
Justine shrugged, looking incredibly sexy with her face scrubbed free of makeup and her damp hair loose around her shoulders. The blue robe she wore looked new, and to Zack's disappointment, it was firmly belted at the waist.
"Because nobody else wants him. After the third customer brought him back with the same complaint, I adopted him.” Her eyes danced with suppressed laughter. “He's harmless as long as I keep my toes covered."
"You could have warned me,” Zack growled in a low voice. Maybe if he stayed angry, he wouldn't leap on her like he wanted to do.
She cocked her hip against the kitchen counter and crossed her ankles. The robe parted, revealing a length of smooth, curvy leg. Zack's mouth watered. He firmly forced his gaze to return to her face. Of course she wasn't teasing him. She probably had no idea the robe had come open—
"Now, where would the fun be in that?” She looked him up and down with those gold tiger eyes of hers, fanning the blaze in his gut. “Besides, if you had waited for your turn in the bathroom instead of stripping in my living room, then Thor wouldn't have fallen in love with your toes.” Her twinkling gaze dipped to his feet. “Although I don't know what Thor sees in them."
She'd gone too far. Zack caught her gaze, satisfied when her eyes widened in recognition of his intent. So, she hadn't forgotten the little games they'd played
. He reached over and turned off the burner beneath the whistling tea kettle, then began to move slowly in her direction.
What had she been thinking, to tease him this way as if nothing had changed between them? Justine stumbled back as he came forward. With a half laugh, half scream, she turned and headed for the safety of her room at a dead run.
Dear God, if he touched her she would ignite!
He caught her before she could get the door closed, pushing it open with little effort. Strong arms circled her waist and lifted her against him; she gasped as she felt the rough hair from his thighs prickle her bare skin. Her nervous giggled died away as shock waves of need, long suppressed but not forgotten, slammed into her. Zack, her body cried out in joyful recognition. Her arms came around his neck of their own accord; her mouth turned unerringly to his the exact moment he sought her lips.
It was heaven and hell.
They fell onto the bed, the full weight of his arousal finding its haven as easily as his mouth had found hers. Justine swallowed a whimper. She hated herself for being weak, but she had missed him so badly. Perhaps they could recapture the physical glory of their relationship without cluttering it up with the pain of love—
Zack suddenly stiffened, arching his back. He eased his mouth from hers, his hazel eyes wide with surprise. His rock-hard arousal deflated like a balloon.
As Justine watched his face, she stifled a disappointed sigh. Another moment and she would have joined him!
Moving only his lips, Zack spoke in a painful whisper. “Please tell me that's not Thor on my back."
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Five
Justine lifted her head and peered over Zack's shoulder. She let her head fall back against the bed, biting her lip against a betraying giggle. “That's not Thor on your back,” she said in a choked whisper. Poor Zack. He had a cat on his back, and she had thought he'd—he'd—Her breath hitched. She didn't dare look at him.
"Then would you mind telling me who—or what—it is?” he gritted out, apparently not amused in the least.
His biceps bulged from the strain of holding himself still above her. Justine resisted the urge to reacquaint herself with those hard muscles and swallowed a sigh of regret, knowing her moment of weakness had passed. She was glad, wasn't she? Yes and no. Her aching body wasn't, that was for damned sure.
But at least her heart was still intact. Hopefully.
"It's Rogue. He's my cat.” She no longer felt like laughing.
"A cat. There's a cat on my back. Any idea why?"
Justine shrugged. “I don't have a clue. He never shows himself when strangers are around.” It was true. Maybe Rogue sensed she was about to do something she was certain to regret. Animals sometimes possessed an uncanny instinct concerning people, Justine knew. If this happened to be the case she owed him one.
"Obviously, he's gotten over his shyness,” Zack muttered. “What do I do?"
"Hold still and I'll try to sweet talk him into getting down.” In the loving voice she used with all her critters, she began to croon to the big tom. “Rogue, come here kitty kitty! I've got a snack for you. Yes, he's mama's pretty kitty...” Her words trailed into silence as she felt Zack's deflated arousal stir in response. She swallowed hard and tried to ignore the instant flash of desire that reheated her body. She was trying to woo the cat, not arouse Zack! Her body still taut with need, she feared she wasn't strong enough to withstand a second assault on her starved senses.
To her relief, Rogue's black, whiskered face came into view at the top of Zack's shoulder. “Don't move."
"I don't intend to."
"That's a good boy, Rogue. Yes, keep coming, darling. That's my sweetie."
Rogue was responding—and so was Zack. Sweat beaded his upper lip. Through the thin cotton of his briefs, he could feel her quivering against him. He pressed forward very slowly, so sensitive he could feel her petals parting. How incredibly wonderful she felt. Just as he remembered. No other woman compared, had ever come close to satisfying him physically and emotionally the way Justine had. She had ruined him for all women, and there had been plenty.
But now there was only one.
"You can get off me now. He's gone."
The abrupt change in her voice confused Zack. He knew she wanted him as he wanted her. Her breathing was as labored as his own, and he could feel her quivering. Nipples, wonderfully hard, strained against his chest. Her lips said no, but her body said yes.
"Zack."
This time there was no mistaking the order.
With a groan of frustration, he rolled away from her and lay on his back. The ceiling became his focus as he willed his body to cool down. What had changed her mind? He was certain—before the cat—that she'd been just as eager as he to make love. He turned his head slightly to look at her.
She was lying on her back with her arm flung over her face. To hide her expression? he wondered. Well, she could hide the truth from him, and she could verbally deny it, but her body wasn't going along with her plans.
"Why did you come here?"
"You invited—"
"Not tonight,” she interrupted impatiently. “To Cannon Bay. Why did you come to Cannon Bay."
Zack had been prepared to tell her the truth, but after tonight he wasn't sure she was ready to hear it. He didn't relish getting slapped with a stalking charge. His lips curved in a humorless smile as he realized that from what he'd read and watched on television, he certainly fit the profile of a stalker.
"My career is pretty much over, from what the doctors tell me.” The knowledge still held the power to hurt. Zack shook his head; he hated self-pity. “I saw an opportunity to teach, so I took it."
He hadn't lied at all, he realized. He'd just omitted the most important part; that he'd come to Cannon Bay to be near her, and the job opening and subsequent offer had been a sheer coincidence. He heard the rustling of the comforter as she turned her head to look at him.
"I'm sorry to hear about your career,” she said softly and with obvious sincerity. “Now that we've...talked, will you let Jordan back on the team? He has nothing to do with you and me, Zack. It isn't fair to make him a pawn in your games."
Zack thought he'd fallen asleep. Surely he hadn't heard her right? He sat up, searching her face for a sign that told him she was pulling his leg.
She stared back at him, her chin tilted defensively, her golden eyes fixed on him with determination and just a hint of lingering desire. In the light of her words, he now found the latter hard to swallow. It was the height of humiliation to think her response had been feigned, but it would explain her sudden shift from cold indifference to inviting him over for coffee.
"I can't put Jordan back on the team yet,” Zack stated, hiding the hurt behind a stony face. He could have explained everything to her and eased her mind about his motives for taking Jordan temporarily from the team, but his pride forbade it. That she would think he would actually stoop so low wounded him to the core. “My jeans should be dry by now."
He slid from the bed and started for the door.
"Zack?"
It was the plea in her tone that stopped him.
"Maybe I was wrong about your motives."
Maybe? Zack gave a brief, bitter laugh before shaking his head and continuing on. Her voice stopped him again, and this time she sounded astonishingly angry.
"But you were wrong about Jordan. He was sick with the flu and missed an oral test. The teacher let him make it up, but failed to get the grade in on time."
Zack felt the tension ease out of him. The story Justine told was accurate to some degree, but there were a few vital facts missing. He was still annoyed enough, however, to keep his mouth shut. Justine would eventually learn that he didn't jump to conclusions, not without all the facts, and especially not with his students.
But she wouldn't hear it from him. Some lessons were best learned the hard way.
"Good night, Justine. Sweet dreams.” He glanced over his shoulder jus
t in time to see something slither back beneath her bed. He didn't think it was the cat or Thor.
She followed him to into the kitchen.
"Wait just a damned minute, Zack! Did you hear what I said?"
Zack pulled his jeans from the dryer and straightened. He shot her a chiding look. “How could I not hear you? You're shouting. By the way, when were you planning to tell me about the snake under your bed?” He'd been hoping to catch her off guard with the question, but he had to admit her startlement looked genuine.
"I'd forgotten about Squeeze. Don't worry, she's harmless."
"I'm not afraid of snakes, but I like to know when I'm in the room with one—especially one that big."
"She's only three feet long."
"So is Thor, but he eats toes,” Zack retorted.
Justine folded her arms, her lips pressed in a mutinous line. “She wouldn't have hurt you. And I really did forget about her—I'm babysitting her for a friend."
Zack believed her. Incredibly, he did. After Thor... He leaned against the dryer and pulled on his jeans, then headed to the door where he'd left his coat and shoes. Getting out of here before he pulled her into his arms again was his top priority; two rejections in one night might be more than his pride could handle.
"You know, you men are all alike."
He asked because it was expected. “How's that?"
"All brawn and bluster, but when it comes to harmless little critters, you turn into cowards."
Jerking on his shoes, Zack stood and faced her. He should have been angry at the slur against his manhood, but he couldn't be; one look at her and his anger vanished like smoke in the wind. Did she have any idea how beautiful she looked to him? Her hair had dried and now lay like a soft, dark cloud around her face and shoulders; her golden eyes glittered with temper, and beneath the robe her breasts heaved temptingly.
God, he loved her.
"I'll bet you've never even had a pet,” she taunted.
She was spoiling for a fight, and any other time Zack would have welcomed the challenge. But tonight he wasn't entirely certain he could control his more basic urges long enough to give her what she thought she wanted.
It Takes Two Page 5
