Expecting the Best

“Gotcha,” she whispered, trapping his lower arms inside the sleeves with the cuffs still fastened.

“I’m not as talented without my hands.” Zach backed up as she put a palm against his chest and pushed. “But I’m certainly willing to give it my best shot.”

“Later,” she said again. This time she pushed with both hands. Abandoning his halfhearted protest, he fell backward onto the bed.

She came down after him, a featherweight on his chest, and took him into another kiss. Hunger flared up fast, edging him toward the limits of control. They were both panting by the time Shelley tore her mouth away.

Slipping to the side, she ran a hand through the hair on his chest. “We’ve got all night. No hurry.”

“Speak for yourself,” he muttered, straining his wrists against starched cotton, but without enough force to actually break free. “I was considering the priesthood until I saw you tonight.”

“A long time, hmm?” Her fingers traced over his skin, just above the waist of his slacks.

“You’re killing me.”

She lowered her head, nuzzled his collarbone. “Good.”

Crazy with need, Zach surrendered. If Shelley wanted the power, he’d let the lady have her way—for now, at least. Her small hands stroked and kneaded, and his breath got shallower with every touch. Her mouth scattered sparks across his skin. The woman was too dangerous to be safe. Too good to be left alone.

She eased his zipper down, and Zach thought he’d lose his dignity right then. He focused on Shelley for distraction, the way her lips pressed together as she concentrated, how her lashes fanned dark across the curve of her cheeks. White-gold hair fell around her face like angel glass, but if she was an angel, he’d bet on her being one of Lucifer’s crowd. What she was doing to him tonight could only be classified as absolutely wicked.

His socks, slacks and shorts disappeared, and her warm palms covered him. Zach groaned and closed his eyes. “I swear, Shelley, this isn’t going last if you don’t—”

He shut up and opened his eyes as she rolled on a condom.

“There are toothbrushes in the other pocket,” he pointed out between clenched teeth.

She rose above him—delicate, provocative as hell, with one blue satin strap slipping down over her shoulder. “I figured you’d be prepared.”

Zach grinned tightly. “I made Eagle Scout, once upon a time.”

She nodded. “I’m not surprised.” Then, holding his gaze, her own sultry and smiling and serious all at once, she took him inside.

Blood pulsed through his bound wrists, behind his eyes, in his belly. He wanted to slow down, get his breath, control the aching, pounding craving to get there...

But Shelley’s face mirrored his struggle, reflected the agony and the need and the yearning. Zach knew he wouldn’t last another second...and then she cried out and gripped him, with a strength that thrust them both into the heart of a shattering star.

WRAPPED IN THE HOTEL’S thick red robe, Shelley curled up in the armchair by the window and stared through the predawn darkness at a snowstorm that hadn’t slowed in the least. Bumps and clumps on the curbs hinted that an effort had been made to clear the street at some point, but another foot or so had fallen since then. Not many people would be shopping for a house today. She didn’t need to go to work.

At the thought, she turned her head toward the bed. Zach breathed deeply and stirred, but didn’t wake up. He lay on his side, bare chested and adorable, his arms still holding the space where she’d slept.

Unbelievable. She’d spent the night with Zach Harmon. Seduced by his charm, enchanted by the charisma of a man who knew just what a woman wanted, she’d stopped thinking and let her needs carry them both away.

Now...the moment for regrets. This incredible connection between them wouldn’t last. Shelley knew she didn’t have a recipe for the glue that welded relationships. No matter how wonderful the guy appeared to be—and Zach came across as damn near perfect—she couldn’t make love, or even lust, stick.

Her heart sank with the admission. Zach would be fun to keep around, at least a little while. During the two years she’d known him, they’d met maybe five or six times. She’d always thought about him afterward, in more detail and for much longer than was smart.

The result of those silly daydreams was this. This. A weekend fling, a moment out of time. He would walk out the door of this room and, no doubt, forget all about her, as he’d done after their other encounters. He’d never called her, had he? Never asked for a date?

And she would resume her own life, presenting deals and negotiating contracts, cajoling stubborn buyers and obstinate sellers. Late at night, she’d go back to an empty house, turn on the television for noise and wait for the dreams to keep her company.

“Hey.” At the word, Shelley opened her eyes and found Zach awake. “What are you doing over there?” The rumble in his voice reminded her of a drowsy lion’s purr.

Aware of his gaze, she stretched slowly. “Watching the snow.”

“Still?”

“More than two feet now.”

“Too bad.” He grinned, and the sexy message revved up her heartbeat. “We’ll just have to stay inside and play games.”

“Parcheesi?” She decided she might as well get as much of Zach as she could while he was here. The more she had, the more fuel there would be for dreams when she was alone again. “Monopoly? I’m very good at Monopoly.” Walking toward the bed, she untied her belt and let the robe drop to the floor.

“Oh, yeah? So’m I.” His gaze stroked over her as she came closer, and her skin heated everywhere he looked. “We’ll have a playoff sometime. But right now...” The sheet fell to his waist as he sat up and reached for her. Shelley sighed as their bare bodies touched. “Right now I’ve got other amusements in mind.”

“Show me,” she invited. And he did.

MUCH LATER that morning, room service delivered brunch while Shelley was still in the shower. “If you don’t hurry, I’m going to start without you,” Zach called through the door. “I’m starving!”

“I’ll be right out.” Turning off the water, Shelley wrapped up in a towel and used another one to wipe off the mirror. The woman there wasn’t wearing her usual mask, but she didn’t have the supplies to recreate the image. No makeup, except powder and lipstick, no rollers and mousse and spray, no jewelry. No clothes, except the blue dress. And the robe.

She dried her hair and combed it as best she could, donned the robe and then gazed at her naked face. How could she go out there like this? What would he think?

This time, Zach knocked on the door. “Shelley, come on. Your eggs will be cold.”

“Okay, okay!” Maybe he’d be too busy eating to notice her. She took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door.

Zach waited for her outside, wearing an identical robe. He curled his fingers into her hair. “You look great.” His kiss was sweet and soft and so gentle she wanted to cry. When she opened her eyes, he grinned. “Now,” he said, “let’s eat.”

They sat beside the window, watching the storm. “I called my mom, just to check on her.” Zach crunched his bacon. “She’s fine. The TV’s saying this is the worst spring blizzard in twenty years.”

She suddenly remembered what he did for a living. “Do you get called into work on days like this?” Would the end come so soon?

“Sometimes. I checked in there, too. So far, the power’s stayed on and the situation’s under control. I left the station this number if they need me.”

So she could keep him for a while. Shelley relaxed a bit. “I’ll bet the ski slopes stay open until the end of April, now, even into May.”

“We can hope. I’ll have to see about taking my sisters up for a weekend.”

A chance piece of information she’d overheard long ago came to mind. “How many brothers and sisters do you have?”

“Eleven of us, plus two parents. We never went anywhere all together because there wasn’t enough room in the car.” He winked at her over the breakfast dishes. “Lucky thing church was within walking distance.”

His grin drove good sense out of her head. With his hair mussed and his blue eyes bright and the red robe setting off his tan skin, he looked like a magazine centerfold. His bare legs had somehow tangled with hers under the table, so even getting a decent breath took concentration.

Shelley struggled back to sanity. “That must be why you have such magic with kids. Allyson is always talking ‘Uncle Zach.’”

“Your daughter is a special case. I manage to see her whenever Dex and Claire bring her to town—we always have a good time.” He toasted Allyson with his coffee cup. “She reminds me of my 14-year-old baby sister, Carol. Both of them are bright, impulsive, a little hard to control.”

The description certainly fit Allyson. “Your parents have trouble with Carol?”

Zach’s smile faded. “My dad died of lung cancer four years ago. That’s when I left the army.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

He nodded. “No reason you should. Carol took it really hard, and she’s been tough to reach ever since. I get called in whenever there’s a problem—she listens to me more than anybody else. But that’s not saying much.”

“A big family must be fun. I didn’t have brothers and sisters.”

“There were plenty of times I wished I could be an only child.” After thinking a second, he shrugged. “Still are, for that matter. These days, at least, I can go home and get away. You couldn’t pay me enough now to give up my privacy.”

“You don’t want kids of your own?” That surprised her. She’d never seen more perfect dad material.

“You’ll have noticed I make pretty damn sure that’s not going to happen.” He flashed that sexy grin. “Families mean complications, and I’ve already got enough of those—along with plenty of brothers and sisters to carry on the family genes. I figure I’ll be known as eccentric Uncle Zach, who spent his life standing the line between right and wrong but wasted his free time on wild, wicked women.”

He shoved the table out of the way, drew her into his lap and loosened the belt on her robe. “Like you, lady,” he whispered roughly against her skin.

Shelley gripped his shoulders, shuddering as his tongue traced the arch of her throat. “I admire a man with a long-range plan,” she managed to reply before his wandering hands made words impossible.

THEY GOT new towels, shooed the housekeeper away and watched movies late into Saturday night. Zach picked the first one, a big budget historical he’d missed in theaters. Shelley’s choice was romantic comedy.

“Aha,” he crowed as the credits rolled. “You’re a closet romantic. The pragmatic and successful Ms. Hightower enjoys love stories. I bet you read them, too.”

She sat up, pointed the remote and clicked off the TV. “Who has time to read?” But her cheeks reddened.

“I like historical romance myself,” he said casually. “I’m into history.”

“You read romance novels? You’re kidding, right?”

Zach grinned at her skepticism. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“But—”

He stretched out on his side and propped his head on his hand. “Good stories, good research, an interesting relationship. Is that strictly female territory?”

“Maybe not.” Her gaze sharpened. “But you’re not planning ‘happily-ever-after’ for yourself?”

The lady had a way of getting to the heart of things. He turned the tables to make his escape. “Are you?”

She fell back against the pillows and put her arms over her eyes. “Not likely. I have lousy judgment when it comes to men.”

Zach decided to assume present company was excepted. “Hightower is a good guy.” He’d better be, since he was now married to Claire.

Lowering her arms again, Shelley sighed. “Dexter and I were terrible for each other. If Allyson hadn’t come along, we wouldn’t have stayed together at all.”

“You can’t count her as a mistake.”

“Oh, no. She’s the best thing I ever did.” The smile she’d started faded away. “I know she’s doing great in Wyoming, but I really miss having her with me.”

Zach put his free hand on her arm, stroked the soft skin on the inside of her elbow with his thumb. “Dex and Claire would probably bring her down even more often, if you asked.”

“My life’s so crazy, so...relentless.” She shrugged. “And Allyson’s happy on the ranch, or at their second home in Cheyenne. I’d feel bad to tear her away from her friends and life there.”

“That still doesn’t mean you have to be alone all the time.”

Her dark gaze hardened and she pulled her arm away. “So which wonderful candidate should I choose? The guy who steals my credit cards? Or the one who hits and threatens me and, incidentally, cost me custody of my daughter?”

“Shelley, those aren’t the only men who’d go out with you.” What the hell did she think he was doing here? Maybe she did put him in the same class with those jerks.

She wrenched away to the edge of the bed with what sounded like a snarl, found her robe and pulled it around her. Yanking the belt tight, she stalked to the window—a delicate, determined silhouette against the black sky outside. Zach waited out the tension.

Eventually, her shoulders drooped.

“Some women are just not cut out for happily-ever-after.” She rested her forehead against the glass. “My mom made a choice once, and he dumped us both when I was three months old.”

“That classifies him a bastard, but it doesn’t say anything about your mom, or you.”

“Yes, it does!” Her head came up and she turned, dark eyes glittering. “My mom built a life for us all by herself. The rest of her family helped out, but Mom worked two jobs and went to secretarial school, then spent twenty years taking orders from men with half her brains so that I could have clothes and a car and...and skiing. And a decent career.”

“I didn’t say—”

She lifted a hand. “I know. But she managed her life without a man, and did a damn good job. Now I’m doing the same. I mean it—some of us are better off alone.”

Zach pondered for a minute. Was that an invitation to exit? He was surprised by how much the prospect bothered him. Still, when a lady said no... “Well then, maybe I should leave.”

He rolled to the near side of the bed and sat up, feeling around on the floor for his robe. Just as he found it, Shelley’s scent reached him. Her small hands slid over his ribs and her soft breasts, bare and aroused, pressed against his back. His breath left him in a rush.

“You don’t want to go out in the middle of a cold, snowy night,” she whispered over his ear. “Do you?”

He chuckled. “I think the answer to that is pretty obvious.”

“So, don’t.” She laid kisses across his shoulder while her hands—her warm, clever hands—roamed south. “I don’t want you going anywhere right now.”

“That’s good,” Zach sighed, relaxing under her caress. “That’s really, really good.”

SUNDAY MORNING, the snow had stopped and the plows were out in droves. While Shelley called Allyson in Wyoming, Zach made a visit to the hotel shops and came back with clothes for them both. They ate lunch downstairs in the dining room.

“I’ll bet Allyson’s loving this snow.” He poured coffee into Shelley’s cup and then his own. “I went up last winter to visit Claire, and they had snow-maidens all over the lawn in Cheyenne.”

Shelley stirred in cream and artificial sweetener. “She could barely talk this morning for all the excitement. We E-mail several times a week—I’ve probably got hourly updates waiting in my mailbox.” Her smile was part sigh. “I can’t deny she’s happy where she is. Claire and Dex are doing a great job.”

She didn’t look exactly happy, but she wasn’t bitter, either—she’d come a long way in two years. “Sounds like you’ve accepted the situation. That’s a big step.”

Her calculating gaze pinned him to the wall. “And you haven’t.”

Zach retreated behind his own coffee. “Don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

“At least I didn’t love Dex anymore. But you were still in love with Claire when they got married. Weren’t you?”

He stared into his cup for a speechless second. “I—”

“She’s an unforgettable woman. I don’t blame you for wanting her back.”

“Shelley—” Denial would be good, if he could get his mouth around the words. But he wasn’t used to lying.

“I realize I’m a substitute.” He glanced up to find her watching him with a calm, impersonal stare. “But that’s okay. This is just for kicks, right?”

Zach waited for the red haze to clear out of his vision before trusting his voice. “Are you finished?”

“With my lunch?”

“And your ridiculous...”

“It’s not—”

He got to his feet. “Coming back to the room?” No was on the tip of her tongue, he could see it. But she stood as well, and put her napkin on the table. “Why not?”

Upstairs, they faced each other across the newly made bed. Zach didn’t let the lady go first this time. “Have you decided this one’s over, too, Shelley? Time to move on?”

“I thought I’d say it before you had to.”

“Nice of you. What if I had other plans?”

“Do you?”

“Hell, I don’t know!” He shoved his hands into his pockets. His mother would kill him if she heard him swear in front of a woman. But then, his mother would kill him for almost everything he’d done since 7:00 p.m. Friday night.

And why was he thinking about his mother? “I thought we were enjoying the moment and each other, Shelley. I wasn’t making plans.”

She turned to look out the window at the cleared streets. “We were. But we both know this isn’t going anywhere. I just wanted to let you off the hook.”

“Gee, thanks.” He couldn’t think, couldn’t see how to turn the situation. She might relent if he touched her, but he would still be irritated, which wasn’t a good prelude to sex or anything else.

“So,” she said, in that same calm, impersonal tone. “I think I might be going, now that the streets are passable.”

Now he had her. “You came in my car.”

She stared at him, her eyes wide with panic. “I can get a cab.”

Another point for his side. “Good luck finding a driver who’ll take on a snow-covered interstate.”

She knew the truth when she heard it. “Great. Just great.” Her disappointment was so real, Zach almost laughed.

“So you can’t get away from me yet. Come sit down.” He pointed her to the chair on the other side of the table. She gazed at him with a question in her eyes and he repeated the motion. “Yes, sit down.”

He opened the dresser drawer and found a notepad and pen. Desperate situations called for desperate measures. “Did you ever play Battleship?”

THEY SHARED the pen through four games, when the ink ran dry. Zach called down to room service for a bottle of champagne, cheese and crackers, and a box of pens. The war escalated as the room darkened until they could hardly see their marks on the paper. Shelley finally stood up to turn on a lamp.

“That makes us even.” She looked across at Zach, sprawled in a chair with his head back and a half-full glass of champagne dangling from his hand over the arm of the chair. “Twenty games each.”

“We need a tiebreaker.”

“World War Three?”

“Or something like that.” His voice had gone back to the leonine purr she’d followed for two days now.

Her pulse jumped, but she fought to stay sane. “Zach, that’s not a good idea.”

“Why?”

Because I’m already in too deep, she wanted to say. “Let’s...let each other go easily.”

“Okay.”

Shelley took a deep breath of relief.

He stood up. “Tomorrow morning.”

The breath blew out in exasperation. “Zach—”

But he was already kissing her. He warmed her lips with his breath, filled her mouth with his taste, and she had no hope of anything except holding on and enjoying the ride. With Zach, she knew that’s all she could count on. The ride of her life.

MONDAY MORNING, the weather thawed. Shelley froze.

Zach didn’t attempt to break the ice. The next move, glacial or otherwise, would have to be hers. “Here’s my number.” He handed her a piece of paper. “Call me. I always return my messages.”

Now that she’d summoned a cab, she wouldn’t even look at him. “Sure.” She gathered up her clothes and lingerie and folded each item carefully into a shopping bag. “You can reach me anytime at the office. I have call forwarding.”

“Okay.”

He watched as she put her blue dress shoes on top of the clothes and folded the handles of the bag together. When she looked over, her eyes were wide and bright. Was she trying not to cry?

She succeeded. “Thanks, Zach, for...for everything. I’m not being very graceful, but this was a wonderful weekend.”

“For me, too. Kiss me goodbye?”

“Of course.” She meant to give him a buss on the cheek and run off. But Zach turned as she reached him, slipped his arms around her and gathered her close. Her body pressed into his and their mouths touched.

When Shelley pushed at his arms, he forced himself to release her. “Bye,” she whispered. Without another glance, she hurried out the door.

“Bye, lady,” Zach murmured after her. Alone again, he looked around the room, at a loss...and caught sight of the giant plaque. He grabbed it and shot out the door. “Shelley? Shelley!”

She stopped in the process of getting on the elevator and looked his way. “Oh.” Pulling her foot back, she let the doors close. “I—I forgot.” Her hand came up to grasp the award.

Zach let go, reluctantly. “Are you sure you can manage? I could carry it down for you.”

“No!” She glanced into his face and quickly away. “No, thanks. I’ll be fine.”

He relinquished the plaque. “Well, then. Goodbye.” Retreating toward the room, he lifted a hand. “See you.”

Shelley pressed the down button and sent him another cool smile. “Sure.” Then she turned her back on him, which left her facing a wall. But the message came through loud and clear.

With a sigh, Zach returned to the room and waited a meticulous thirty minutes to give her time to get away. Then he picked up his wrinkled tux and headed for home.

CHAPTER THREE

THREE MONTHS LATER, Shelley stared across a tidy desk at the woman facing her. “What did you say?”

Dr. Deb Bryant didn’t blink. “I said your pregnancy test is positive. You’re going to have a baby.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Does that mean you’re considering an abortion?”

“No!” The idea made her sick. But then, she’d been sick a lot lately—that’s why she’d come to the doctor. “How could this have happened?”

“The usual way, I imagine. What were you doing around the first week in March?”

“Working myself to death as...oh.” All except for one weekend. That weekend. The awards banquet. The blizzard. Zach.

She took a deep breath. “But I... we... used protection. Every time.” Not that she could remember how many times they’d made love between Friday night and Monday morning.

“All methods have a failure rate. Now, what do you plan to do?”

Staring at the doctor across the desk, Shelley tried to think and failed. She could only give a gut reaction. “Have a baby, I guess.”

“Then we should choose an obstetrician. Since you’re close to thirty-five, I’d like to recommend a specialist in high-risk pregnancies, just to be on the safe side. We need to get you on iron tablets and vitamins, improve your diet...”

Shelley walked out to her car half an hour later, shaken to the very roots of her soul.

A baby. Zach Harmon’s child.

She went so far as to pick up the car phone, punching out the number she’d memorized twelve weeks ago. But with her finger on “send” she stopped, then ended the call.

They hadn’t seen each other since that Monday morning when she’d rushed off to work, promising to get in touch. She’d never worked up the nerve to call him. Zach hadn’t made contact, either...hadn’t wanted to, she assumed.

Was she going to phone him now and start a chorus of “Hello, Daddy?”