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Authors: Susan Andersen

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BOOK: Getting Lucky
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“Too pastel,” Lily agreed. “It washes you out. And a style less bulky would be more flattering. Something like these.” She led Jess over to a stack of chenille sweaters that zipped up the front and had a different type of stitching through the midsection that lent a hint of a waistline. “Yep, I bet these would look good on you. What color grabs your fancy?”

Jessica reached for a rich golden brown, but then dropped her hand to her side, figuring it’d probably make her look like a big brown wren. But Lily pulled it out of the stack.

“I think most of us tend to be drawn to the colors that look good on us,” she said. “Not always, of course, but more often than not.” She held the sweater up to Jessica. “Look, you have excellent instincts. This brings out the highlights in your hair and makes your skin look really creamy. Try it on.”

By the time they finished shopping that afternoon, Jessica found herself the proud owner of two new sweaters, new makeup, and even a new pair of shoes. She’d tried to protest the latter, citing the practicality of her current pair of casual oxfords.

But Lily had merely looked at her with raised eyebrows and demanded, “Practical for what, plowing the lower forty? I’m not suggesting you toss them away, Jess, just save them for tramping the cliffs. Meanwhile, buy yourself these darling ballerina flats for the less athletic moments. Heck, if you’re looking for practicality, slip-ons have that in spades. Think about it: For someone who likes to go barefoot in her own apartment, this style is much easier to kick off and slide back into. Not to mention how good
pretty
can be for your health. It relieves stress. I can testify that seeing you wear something other than those big old clodhoppers has dropped
my
stress level considerably.”

So Jess laughed and bought them, secretly delighted. She knew her new purchases and a few quick lessons in applying makeup wouldn’t magically transform her into a beauty. And it certainly wouldn’t address her worries concerning her marriage. But for nearly the first time in her life, she felt stylish. Not just passable or neat, but genuinely stylish. And that made her feel attractive. It was as if a light had come on, as if the secrets that other women took for granted had finally decided to reveal themselves to her, too. And even knowing that sooner or later Lily would go back to California, Jess felt confident she was actually learning the skills to continue
making
choices that would highlight her assets.

There was a surprising amount of power in that.

 

It was getting late when Zach heard the knock, and he swore softly into the phone. “Someone’s at my door.”

“Then I’ll let you go,” Rocket promptly replied.
“And don’t worry; I’ll start looking into the background of Beaumont’s family right away.”

“You’re the man, Miglionni. Something is sure as hell fishy here, and if anyone’s got the juice to dig me up a motive, it’s you.” They settled on a time for him to call back for the results, and Zach hung up just as another knock sounded at his door.

“I’m coming, already,” he growled, and strode over to yank it open. “Hold your damn hors—” At the sight of the woman on the other side of the door, the words dammed up in his throat.

Because the last person he expected—or wanted—to see was Lily.

And the last place he wanted to see her was in his bedroom.

But there she stood, all five and a third feet of her in her crazy sky-high heels, looking like sin incarnate and smelling like heaven. He didn’t want to let her in, and he opened his mouth to make an excuse—any excuse—so he could shut the door in her face and safely keep her on the other side. But before a single word left his lips, she sashayed right past him into his room. The next thing he knew, she was crossing within a foot of his bed and bringing with her every damn memory he’d struggled all day long to suppress.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well, hey, c’mon in,” he said with carefully understated irony. “Make yourself right at home.”

She turned to him. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Ah. I thought I smelled something burning.”

She gave him a look that was surprisingly repressive
for a woman who was anything but repressed. “Very funny. You need a minute to get all your blonde jokes out of your system, or do you wanna hear what I have to say?”

He could use a minute, all right, but not to assemble his arsenal of jokes. The woman scrambled his brain. He’d been raised to be polite to women, yet every time he turned around he found himself acting rude as hell toward this one.

Still…did he want to hear what she had to say?
No.
He didn’t want to have to deal with her, period. Then again, she looked as if she were about two seconds away from walking over and taking a poke at him with one of those competent little fingers of hers, and he
really
didn’t think he could handle her touching him right now. He didn’t trust what he’d do if she laid hands on him—and wasn’t that a hell of a thing for a trained warrior to have to admit? Yet it was nothing short of the truth. It was all he could do just to squelch the fantasy that raced through his mind of the various ways he could keep those capable hands busy. So he gave her a brisk, impersonal nod and said, “My apologies. What have you been thinking?”

“That somebody really ought to call the police about the kidnapping.”

That actually took his mind off wondering what it would be like to lay her down on the bed just a few steps behind her.

At last.
Someone who showed a little common sense. He gave her a wholly approving look that for once didn’t have a thing to do with her sex appeal. “You and me both, sweetheart.”

“You agree?”

“Hell, yes. You heard me arguing this morning wi—No, I guess that was before you came downstairs.” He rolled his shoulders. “Anyway, I had this very argument with Mrs. Beaumont. Christ, Lily, I’m a soldier—I
believe
in the system. But not only did Mrs. B. threaten to kick my butt out of here if I called in the feds over her objections, she said she’d deny Glynnie and David were even kidnapped!”

Lily looked properly horrified, and he was filled with a sudden comradely warmth toward her. He took a few steps closer.

“That’s just plain foolish!” she said indignantly.

“Amen to that.” He couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized before how intelligent she was.

“So what do we do?”

“We proceed cautiously. We’ve got five days to work on her, and Rocket—” At her furrowed brow, he cut himself off to say, “You remember my friend John Miglionni who stopped by the house?” He got a flash of Rocket laughing himself silly on the phone a few minutes ago after he’d started to tell Zach he’d discovered Lily was exactly who she’d claimed to be, and Zach’d had to admit he’d already found that out for himself. Then, recalling his behavior when he’d introduced them back in Laguna Beach, not to mention the way he and John had double-teamed her, he braced himself for an acid response.

But she merely nodded. “Of course. Mr. Sensitivity. You call him Rocket?”

“Yeah, it’s his Marine handle. He’s a private detective now, and he’s checking out the reliability of the local
FBI.” He patted her shoulder with companionable bonhomie as he explained the reason for John’s inquiries.

Big mistake. She was soft and warm beneath his fingers, and it took an effort to remove his hand. He rubbed the back of his neck in an attempt to eradicate the feel of her and groped for the hail-brothers-well-met emotions of a moment ago. He cleared his throat. “Don’t, uh, worry about it, okay? One way or the other—hopefully with the feds’ help, but even without it—I
will
see to it that everything works out all right.”

Lily stared up into his eyes, and blinked when she saw their normal gray watchfulness all warmly avuncular as he gazed back down at her. She didn’t get this guy—she didn’t get him at all.

Oh, not the trust-me-I-can-take-care-of-everything attitude—that struck her as pretty typical of the Zach she’d come to know. But earlier today he’d kissed her like she was the hottest woman in the known universe—and now he was patting her like a decrepit old dog? Good Lord. And to think she’d hesitated to come to his room for fear he’d jump to the wrong conclusion. Talk about worrying over nothing.

And how immature was it to be a little bent out of shape that the need had been removed? Heck, it wasn’t as if she
wanted
to pick up where they’d left off. She stared at the pale scar that bisected his upper lip. Did she?

No, of course she didn’t. But really, was she the only one who remembered the way they’d been all over each other just a few short hours ago?

Impulsively, she reached out and touched his chest. “Zach,” she said…then realized she didn’t have the first idea where to go from there.

Before she could decide, Zach’s hand whipped out to grip hers. He jerked it away from the soft red material covering those hard, muscular planes. “You don’t want to be doing that,” he growled. “Or maybe you do. Either way, be damn careful what signals you send out, Lily, because I’m not in the mood to be teased.”

His eyes, when hers snapped up to meet them, were no longer the least bit avuncular. They were molten and intense, and seemed to see right down to her skin.

And suddenly she didn’t have a doubt in the world that he remembered every single thing about that encounter.

Z
ACH REMEMBERED, ALL RIGHT.
H
E REMEMBERED
every single second. And staring down at Lily, with that curvy body that made his fingers itch, and those electric-blue eyes that seemed to see into his darkest corners, he wanted nothing more than to pick her up, toss her on the bed, and have at her.

Jesus.
He was a man who took pride in his self-control—so what the Sam Hill was it about her that brought him so close to throwing it all away, time after frigging time? To prevent himself from grabbing her, he crossed his hands behind his back and assumed the time-honored “at ease” position. But damned if she got to wiggle off the hook and just bebop on her merry way.

“Why are you really in my room?” he demanded. “You looking to pick up where we left off?”
Say yes,
he thought fiercely.
Just say the word, sweet thing, and I’ll be happy to oblige you.

“No, of course not,” she snapped indignantly. “I told you—” Cutting herself off, she shook her head and blinked up at him thoughtfully. Then she shrugged. “I
don’t know,” she admitted with the inherent honesty he was beginning to understand was an integral part of her. “Maybe. I’d like to say you’re crazy even to suggest it…but maybe I am.”

His hands came out from behind his back and he took a step forward, crowding her so closely she had to tip her head way back just to maintain eye contact. But she didn’t step away, and triumph exploded in his chest. “Good,” he said in a low, intense voice. “Because that’s sure as hell what I’d like to do. I’d like to pick right up where we left off before we were interrupted—and then some. I want to strip you naked and touch you every place I’ve ever thought of touching you. Spread you out on that bed and lick you from head to toe.” His gaze took a slow, leisurely journey down her body, and the sheer lust that roared through his gut tempted him to jettison his control, if only for a while. Hell, self-restraint was probably overrated, anyhow.

Christ, Taylor. Wise up.
“Or maybe”—he snapped his gaze back up to pin her in place—“I should leave you in those cock-teasing shoes you always wear and just lick you from head to ankle.”

There. That oughtta do it.
He’d noticed that Lily never swore, so his deliberate crudeness ought to put some distance between them. And as much as it galled him to admit it, he needed her to be the one to do it, because he simply didn’t have the strength to voluntarily pass up the chance to get naked with her.

Her eyes flared hot, and she made a soft, yearning sound low in her throat. “Maybe…” She licked her lips. Cleared her throat. “Maybe you should go with that idea.”

Zach’s much prized constraint hit the skids. His right hand whipped out and hooked her by the back of her neck. Pulling her flush against his body, he bent and rocked his mouth over hers.

It was like splashing white lightning over the coals of a fire believed to be extinguished, but which had only been banked. When Lily’s mouth immediately opened beneath his own, red-hot lust exploded in his veins and incinerated the last bit of common sense he had left. He was all urgent need as he licked into her, all burning sensation as he felt her plush breasts flatten against him when she rose onto her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. With a rough sound deep in his throat, he picked her up by her hips, took two giant steps forward, and toppled them both onto the bed.

Immediately, he rolled until he was half on top of her, throwing one leg over her thighs to pin her in place and pressing his forearms to the mattress on either side of her shoulders. He plunged his hands into that soft, cotton-candy hair and held her head still for his kisses. Triumph rolled through him when she kissed him back with unbridled enthusiasm—until a soft sound that struck him as more anxious than aroused purled in her throat. Frowning, he raised his head and looked down at her.

Lily’s eyes were still closed, the fine skin of her eyelids looking fragile and vulnerable. Her Marilyn Monroe ’do clung in soft strands to his fingers, and her mouth was reddened and swollen. Shit. He was behaving with all the finesse of a high school geek who’d suddenly found himself getting lucky with the hottest cheerleader in town.

“Lily?” He stroked his thumb slowly over her cheekbone and down to her full bottom lip. “Are you all right?”

Lily was slow to drag herself from the hot quagmire of sexual enthrallment, but surprise at the question pried her heavy-lidded eyes open, and she blinked up at him. His pale gray irises, ringed in darker charcoal, were full of fire. They stared back at her, hot, horny…and full of concern.

Ah, jeez. How was she supposed to
not
care about this guy, when he disrupted his own gratification in order to worry about her welfare? There was no question that Zachariah Taylor could be tough, hard-nosed, and occasionally downright impossible to get along with. But the man was also a caretaker right down to his big old size-thirteen combat boots. And more than anything else—more than his hard body and knowledgeable mouth, more than his propensity for smart-aleck remarks and his occasional loss of temper—
that
was the thing about him that really got under her skin.

So just how the heck am I supposed to stop myself from caring?

A cool dribble of unease trickled through her hot blood, but she shoved it aside. It wasn’t a crime to care; heck, she’d probably never be able to feel this level of attraction if she
didn’t
. That didn’t mean she was in
love
, or that this was anything more than a temporary fling. Whatever this thing was that she and Zach had going between them, it would no doubt end once Glynnis was brought home safe and sound.

So until then, why not enjoy it? Did it really matter that flings weren’t her usual style? Zach could be her exception.

Face it, the man was in a class all his own, anyhow.

Parting her lips, she gave the rough-skinned pad of Zach’s thumb a tiny suck, then curled her arms around his strong neck and arched slightly to press her breasts against his chest. “Are you
worried
about me?” she asked with a slight smile. “I’m not sure how we got from ‘lick you from head to ankle’ to being anxious about—”

“I’m not
anxious
,” he growled. “But when you made that little noise in your throat, it sounded as if you were—I don’t know—in pain or something. I don’t want to hurt you, or push you somewhere you don’t want to go.”

“Why, Zach, that’s so
sweet
of you.” And it was—sweet and accountable. But sweetness from him was the last thing she wanted at this juncture. Thankfully, as she suspected, simply using
sweet
and
you
in the same sentence made him react as if she’d just complimented the size of his penis by squealing, “Isn’t that
precious
?”

“Sweet?” His head reared back and his eyes darkened. He was fully upon her now, and when he pressed his hips forward she felt the hard bulge behind his fly. “Men aren’t
sweet
.”

His erection felt solid and competent, and it hit just the right spot between her legs. She managed to keep her eyes from crossing, but her voice emerged more breathy than the ironic she was shooting for as she suggested, “Responsible, then?”

“Yeah. Responsible’s good. A helluva lot better than
sweet
.” He lowered his head and touched his lips to a vulnerable spot behind her ear, then moved his mouth along her neck. “That’s a good word for you, though. Consid
ering that’s the way you smell, the way you taste.” His lips moved back up to her mouth. “
God
, you taste sweet,” he repeated hoarsely before his mouth once again claimed hers.

Lily clung to his broad shoulders and allowed herself to be enveloped by his heat and his strength, to be seduced by his mouth. She retained just enough presence of mind to warn herself not to become addicted to Zach’s kisses. But they were soft and lingering, then strong and fierce, and it would be so easy to become dependent upon them, especially when his tongue went from teasing hers gently to demanding full capitulation as he boldly countered her every parry and thrust.

Absorbing his heat, she undulated restlessly beneath the weight of his body. The scent of him surrounded her, an amalgamation of the triple-milled soap from the bathroom they shared, laundry detergent from his T-shirt and jeans, and the healthy musk of aroused man radiating from his hot skin. Excitement burned in Lily’s veins, and with a need to touch him, to feel the strength and heat of his muscular body, she reached down to tug his red Henley tee from his pants.

It had barely cleared his waistband when he slid off her onto the mattress, and without breaking their kiss, propped himself half over her. He disentangled a hand from her hair and stroked his fingertips down the side of her throat and along the V neckline of her thin sweater. Lily stiffened a little, waiting for him to transfer all his attention to her breasts. It had been her experience that where those particular curves were concerned, men often forgot there was an actual woman attached to them.

But she should have remembered from her session
with him in the hallway that Zach never did the expected. Instead of diving into her cleavage, or enthusiastically fine-tuning her nipples like a radio operator trying to dial in a static-filled station, he seemed perfectly content to trace lightly along her sweater’s neckline. When his fingers did stray lower, it was with a touch so gentle she found herself holding her breath and thrusting her breasts out for closer attention. Behind the lace of her bra, her nipples distended.

When a moment later, he removed the only true source of satisfaction she had going for her by raising his head until their mouths were connected only by the light play of his tongue, Lily growled in frustration. Lifting up she kissed him hard, then grabbed the hand that teased her and dragged it over the aching swell of her breast.

The impact kicked Zach like a mule. Finally, he had his hands on her. When he’d felt her stiffen a moment ago, he’d forced himself to go slowly, but
damn
, the temptation had been strong to fill his hand with her breast. Now that he finally had, its tactile impression was everything he’d known it would be. It was firm and round with that marvelous inner jiggle that made tits such a magnet for men. A guttural groan rumbled in his throat, and he returned her kiss with a strength that drove her head back into the coverlet as his fingers massaged her breast’s full softness. He moved his palm lightly to feel the fluid movement beneath it, and was so enthralled with the result that it was a moment before he even noticed the thrust of her nipple trying to drill a hole through his palm.

He ripped his mouth free to look down at her. “I’ve
been a good boy scout, Lily; I’ve been patient and true. But you have on way too many clothes, and I want to see you.”

Hot color washed up her throat and onto her face, but she coolly raised her eyebrows and met his gaze with the directness he expected from her. “I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours.”

“Oh, honey, now that’s what I call a sweetheart deal.” Pushing back to sit on his heels, he reached for the hem of his T-shirt.

By the time he’d tugged it over his head, Lily had divested herself of her pullover sweater, and Zach’s shirt fell from suddenly nerveless fingers. “God,” he whispered and stared at her, all lush golden skin and killer curves in a wine-colored lace bra. “You’re even prettier than I imagined. And trust me,” he said with a slight smile as he tore his gaze away from her body to meet her eyes, “I’ve spent a lot of time imagining.”

Lily might have stuttered out an unimaginative, “Ditto,” if every drop of moisture hadn’t suddenly deserted her mouth. Instead, she simply stared. But
ho
ly petunia.

His shoulders were wide, his arms were powerful, and his stomach was flat and ridged with muscle. But it was his broad chest that tempted her to check her chin to make sure the moisture missing from her mouth wasn’t a result of having drooled it all out.

His chest was all sculpted brawn that looked harder than granite. But stone usually denoted a certain gray chill, and she already knew Zach’s tanned skin would be hot to the touch. Flat copper nipples played peek-a-boo behind the fine fan of ebony hair that covered his
pectorals, and Lily wanted to search them out and catch the tiny nail-head points of them between her teeth. More than that, however, she wanted to feel her breasts flatten against all that hard muscle, only this time without any clothing to separate them. Sitting up, she rolled onto her knees and reached behind her to unhook her bra. Peeling it down her arms, she knee-walked across the short space separating them.

“No, wait,” he said. “Wait, Lily. I want to look at you.”

But she didn’t stop until she was pressed against him, and they both sucked in a sharp breath at the first bone-melting contact of hot, naked skin against hot, naked skin. Lily reached up and looped her arms around his neck.

She felt the quick wash of goosebumps that shivered over Zach’s skin, but he didn’t say a word. Instead, he tucked in his chin to gaze down at where her soft curves pressed against his solid muscle.

Lily discovered she liked watching him look at them. He clearly got off on the sight, for his bottom lip developed a sensual droop, his steel-colored eyes a molten heat. She didn’t have to look down herself to envision the contrast between her curves and his planes, his tanned skin and her paler olive coloring. She felt the strength of him pushing her breasts back against the wall of her chest, and she undulated a bit to rub them against the smooth, bare skin of his torso.

Zach whispered a swear word and reached behind her to direct the movement. With the heels of his hands cupping her sides and his fingers splayed wide, it felt as if her entire back was enveloped within his hard-skinned grasp as he moved her against him in volup
tuous circles. Then he widened the spread of his thighs to lessen the height disparity between them, and her breasts suddenly dragged over his hair-roughened pectorals, rasping heat into her nipples. Her head dropping back, she sighed.

BOOK: Getting Lucky
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