It had been a long night. Zach stood outside his bedroom door, the castle quiet at last. Jacob and his mother were settled in the tower room that Julianne had just vacated. The Moodys were back, with looks of sympathy that his wedding night had been interrupted, but happy that Jacob had been found. That took precedence over everything, for everyone.
And now he would join his wife in bed for the first time, without the privileges of marriage, but with all the temptation.
He was proud of her, grateful to her. She’d stayed in the background, didn’t ask questions, didn’t approach him at all. She’d helped Mrs. Moody prepare food for the people involved and offered quiet smiles along with heaping plates and full mugs.
She’d gone to bed an hour ago, at 2:45 a.m., but before she had she’d tracked him down and given him a hug. He’d appreciated it. The usual fallout had already begun—Jacob’s father was filing charges. They would face a too-familiar and exhausting battle.
He pushed open the door. Light spilled from the bathroom into the room. She’d left the light on and the door ajar. He glanced at the bed as he headed to the bathroom. She made a barely visible mound on the far side, under the down comforter. She was so close to the edge, he thought she might fall off if she moved another inch.
She would’ve been better off putting a rolled-up blanket or something down the middle of the bed. At least then she could spread out in the space it would create.
A few minutes later he climbed into bed. He lay on his side, facing her. The scent of her perfume just barely reached him, but his awareness of her was complete.
The sheets rustled as she rolled onto her back. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice sleepy.
“I’m fine, thanks.”
She yawned. “Will you be able to sleep?”
“If I say no, what would you do?” The question hung there like an invitation.
“Find you a sleeping pill.”
He heard the smile in her voice. “I’m sure I’ll fall asleep without resorting to that.”
A surprisingly comfortable silence settled between them.
“Zach?” she whispered after a while.
“What?”
“I’m very proud to know you.”
His throat swelled. People had said things like that to him before, but they were people whose friend or family member he and his team had rescued. He never saw his work as altruistic but a necessity.
He didn’t have the words to answer Julianne’s, so he slid a hand across the bed. She followed suit. Soon their fingers touched, then he wrapped his hand around hers and held tight.
They slept.
Zach was gone when Julianne woke up, lying not on her own side of the bed, not even in the middle, but halfway onto Zach’s, her head on the edge of his pillow. She buried her face in it, but she couldn’t conjure up any scent that seemed like him.
Had she rolled that close to him during the night? She didn’t remember. Surely she would remember that.
She saw that it was ten-fifteen and wondered what was happening. Were Jacob and his mother still there? How about the helicopter pilot and crewman, who hadn’t been introduced to her nor called by name?
She shoved the blankets aside and headed to the shower, which was double the size of the one in the tower room, giving her plenty of room. Anxious to get downstairs, she didn’t take the time to dry her hair.
Julianne was greeted by quiet. No sounds from the kitchen. No baby crying. She went from room to room but found no one. She knocked on Zach’s office door. Nothing.
She grabbed her jacket and went outside. Just then the Jeep came up the road, Zach at the wheel.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” he said as he climbed out of the vehicle.
“Where is everyone?”
He sort of smiled. “I guess the honeymoon is over.”
She tucked her hands in her pockets. “Sorry. You are somebody, but I meant everyone else. Jacob.” She felt amazingly protective of the boy, since she’d been the one to stop him crying. She would remember his big, scared eyes forever.
“Jacob and his mother have been taken to a safe place. They’ll stay there until the legal ramifications are dealt with. Mr. and Mrs. Moody returned to Lil’s so that we could have time together.” He approached Julianne, stopping a few inches from her. “Good morning.”
“Hi.” Did I move into your space while you were still in bed? she wanted to ask.
“Sleep well?”
“Very.” Was that laughter lurking in his eyes? The blue hue seemed to shimmer.
She attempted to act blasé. “Something on your mind, Zach?”
“You’re a bit of a bed hog, aren’t you?”
So. She had crept to his side. The heat of embarrassment enveloped her. “I apologize.”
“No, don’t.” He tugged on a still-damp curl, then cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek. “There’s something between us. Might as well acknowledge it.”
“What good would that do?”
“Keeps things honest. You admit there’s an attraction?”
“Yes,” she answered carefully, not giving him more.
He moved a little closer, so that they almost touched. “I’m going to bed…to sleep for a while.”
It was an invitation without him putting either of them on the spot. “Sleep well,” she said.
He smiled slowly, dragged his hands down her arms, then walked away. She didn’t move until long after the door shut. What had his smile meant? That he could read her mind? That she might resist him today but not forever? Well, she knew that. The longer she stayed, the bigger the temptation.
But she had plans. They didn’t include making love with Zach Keller, even with the legal right—and the desire—to do so. It would only make it harder to leave, and leave she must. She couldn’t live this isolated existence, no matter how important his job was. She needed people and activity and…life, the things she’d missed for so long.
Julianne finally went into the house. She walked through the kitchen and dining room then stood at the bottom of the staircase, her hand resting on the newel post. Was he right that they should acknowledge their attraction? Now that he’d admitted to being drawn to her, her own feelings had changed a little, finding freedom in his openness.
It was the mystery about him that had piqued her interest at first. Well, that and the fact he was gorgeous. The less he told her, the more she’d wanted to know. Now she knew what he did, although not what drove him to it. And he’d become more attractive, because he put other people first. She hadn’t known many people like that in her life.
She believed he would even give up his own life for any of the strangers he’d helped rescue. Which made him a better person than she. Who would she die for? No one. There was no one. That would change someday, when she had children. But to die for a cause? No. In that regard, he was a much better person than she.
That revelation made it easier to stay away from him. That and remembering there was a woman locked in the tower room.
Julianne wandered into the media room and turned on the television, but the screen went unwatched as she stared into space and analyzed her situation.
Zach took care of a lot of people. He deserved to have someone take care of him. She could do that for a while—for as long as she was there. It would be a repayment of sorts for providing her with a safe place to live. Not that she wouldn’t enjoy herself in the process, of course…
She was rationalizing, justifying her own need to be with him. But all rationalization aside, it seemed like destiny, which is why her feelings had sprung to life after such a short time of knowing him. She’d been sent here because she needed something—shelter and protection—yet she’d found someone needier.
She sat up straight. Jamey had said something along those lines. He’d set them up to meet! Because Zach needed someone like her, Jamey had said.
That settled it. Julianne headed up the stairs. She inched open the door to the master bedroom, tiptoed in and shut the door quietly. He was sprawled on his back in the big bed, the comforter pulled to his shoulders. His bare shoulders. Last night he’d worn a T-shirt and sweatpants. Was he wearing anything at all now?
She inched closer to the bed. He sprung up, his hands fisted, body rigid. Then he saw it was her and relaxed.
“Change your mind?” he asked, his tone seeming almost sympathetic, as if he knew her decision was almost out of her control.
She nodded.
“Sleepy?”
She shook her head.
“Ah.” He lifted the comforter and slid over, inviting her.
She toed off her shoes, then caught a glimpse of boxer shorts as she slipped under the covers. He wrapped her in the comforter and his arms and held her.
“I’m glad you came,” he said softly.
She’d made the right decision. He needed someone to care about him. She could do that, even though it would hurt to leave him. But he made sacrifices, and so could she.
Oh, yeah, big sacrifice. Totally selfless. Right.
Well, she could think of it that way.
He found her lips with his, tenderly, arousingly. His were so soft and warm. His tongue dipped into her mouth and gently explored. She wound her arms around his neck and dragged herself closer, her breathing choppy. She moaned when he trailed his tongue down her neck, coming back up to her ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth, his heated breath chilling her damp skin. When he returned to her mouth it was with more passion, more intensity, but he didn’t seem in any hurry to move from step to step.
He drew back. His gaze locked with hers, he set a hand on her stomach then slid it over a breast. She sucked in air and closed her eyes. He searched her with gentle hands.
“I pictured you,” he said softly. “Before you came here. I saw your clothes, touched them. I knew what your body would be like.”
She should’ve been annoyed at the intrusion into her privacy, but she was too aroused to complain. “So you weren’t disappointed?”
“Why would I be?”
“I’m not—I don’t have a model’s body.”
“You have a woman’s body. Did someone criticize you?”
“It doesn’t matter.” She tried to draw him down to kiss him but he resisted.
“You’re beautiful. Perfect. Don’t let anyone convince you differently.” He settled his hand on her breast. She lifted toward him as he sought the contours of her nipple through her sweater.
A moment later he peeled the sweater over her head. She was glad she’d worn her black lacy panties and bra, especially when he found her nipple through the lace and tugged on it with his teeth, gently but thoroughly, as he unzipped her jeans and shoved them down her legs. Her body shook; she could barely draw a full breath. He surrounded her with his touch and his scent, creating a world all their own. His breathing lost its steady rhythm. She moved her hands over his torso, feeling the definition of muscles, enjoying his smooth, warm skin. Her fingertips drifted to his waistband and lingered there, afraid to go lower. He grabbed her hand and moved it to blanket him, holding her palm against him as he moved.
She glanced at his face, at the tension that made it seem like he was in pain. She wanted to soothe him, to bring him peace.
He covered her body with his, moving her legs apart, fitting himself. Even with fabric between them she felt the length and breadth of him. He dragged out the moment, slowing down then picking up the pace again, then stopping before starting over again. Then he knelt, pulling her up with him. Reaching around to unclasp her bra he looked into her eyes.
“You’re on the pill, right?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
A bit of the haze of arousal cleared. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I haven’t…had the need.”
“You’ve been celibate?”
“Kind of.”
“Kind of? How can you be kind of celibate?”
“Okay, totally.”
“For how long?”
She set her hands on his chest and looked him in the eye. “Twenty-three years.”
His hands dropped away from her bra clasp. “You’re a virgin?”
“You say that like it’s a curse.”
“Julianne, you were going to let me make love to you.”
Why was he speaking in the past tense? “Yes, so?”
“Why?”
Because you need me. “Because I want to. What does my lack of experience have to do with anything, Zach? It was bound to change sometime. Why not with you?”
“It’s not ‘lack of experience,’ as you put it. It’s the fact you’d be giving up your virginity to me. Me.”
“My husband.”
“Your partner in ‘appearances and alibis.’”
She could see she was losing this battle. “It’s my choice.”
“And it’s mine not to accept the gift.” He left the bed, grabbed his jeans from a chair and put them on, then T-shirt, sweater, shoes. Armored up, he returned to the bed and sat beside her. She’d tucked the comforter under her chin.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, brushing her hair from her face.
“Like what?”
“Like I ran over your dog.”
She smiled against her will. “I…complicated things.”
“You did. But it’s okay.”
She fluttered her eyelashes. “I did enjoy it.”
“Brat.”
“Think you can resist forever?” She felt a little braver, like she could be direct and not make him mad.
“It won’t be forever, Julianne.”
She hated that tolerant tone. “But you said you don’t know how long we’ll stay married. What if it’s years? You’d deny me my right to companionship during the prime years of my life?”
“I think your prime years come later. You won’t miss out.”
He headed toward the door.
“Would you tell me about Hannah?” she said in a hurry, then held her breath as he stopped. She saw him tense. When he turned around, he’d lost all sense of the ease he’d had with her just moments ago.
“How do you know about Hannah?” His voice was low and harsh.
It had been a shot in the dark—and instinct. It was the only woman’s name she found in her research that fit the H___H signature on the pen-and-ink drawings at Lil’s. Not only was Julianne right, but she’d hit a nerve, a deep and sensitive one.
When she didn’t answer, he moved toward her. “Hannah is not open for discussion. Not now. Not ever. You got that?”
She shrank back. “I got it.” She shouldn’t have brought it up yet. She should’ve enjoyed the new, warm relationship between them first, built some trust.
He stalked out of the room, pulling the door hard behind him.
One step forward, Julianne thought. And two steps back.
The story of her life.
Zach shut himself in his office. Since there were no windows he couldn’t focus on anything other than the photographs on the wall, but they faded into the background as he worked at getting control of his anger.
How did she know? How the hell did she know about Hannah? Had she overheard Mr. and Mrs. Moody talking? He found that hard to believe. Had she been sneaking around? He couldn’t imagine that—Well, maybe he could, but he still couldn’t figure out what her sneaking would’ve accomplished, how she could’ve discovered information about Hannah.
He paced. Hannah had recently begun to be…difficult. Unpredictable.
The phone rang. Zach was grateful for the interruption.
“A new one,” said the voice on the other end. “Fifteen years old. I’m sending you the data now.”
Zach opened his e-mail and studied the statistics. He could’ve left the interview to someone else, but he needed to get away from Julianne for a little while and let things settle down.
He went to his bedroom to grab the bag he always kept packed. Julianne was just getting out of bed. He got a good look at her in her black lace bra and panties. Great. Like he needed that image to carry with him.
She grabbed her sweater and held it to her chest.
He walked past her. “I have to leave.”
“For how long?”
“A day or two.” He went into the closet and stopped, giving her time to get dressed. He slid his hand across his abdomen. He’d wanted before, needed before, but not like this. She was different from any other woman he’d been attracted to. Wasn’t his type at all. But…
He grabbed his suitcase. She was standing in the same spot when he emerged but was dressed. Just leave the room, he told himself. Go. Now. Keep walking.
Then he was standing in front of her, his suitcase on the floor, and he was kissing her, like a knight going off into battle. After a couple of seconds she was kissing him back, and he indulged himself in her warmth and passion, a memory to recall when he needed to.
“Be safe,” she whispered against his mouth. “Come home.”
He kissed her hard one more time then left without looking back, not wanting to see worry in her eyes. His part of the rescue wasn’t dangerous, but for some reason he didn’t want to tell her that. He kind of liked that she was worried.
Just what did that say about him?