Screw it. He didn't need anybody.
Zach came awake with a start, frowning as he stared at the shadowy outlines of the furniture across the room. Shit . What was it with all this dreaming lately? He nipped over in irritation, only to bump up against Lily's lushly rounded butt. She murmured a protest, but promptly wiggled close to spoon her back against his front, and he wrapped an arm around her waist. Burying his face in her hair, he breathed in her scent.
It was strangely soothing—if you were into that sort of thing, which he wasn't. It never paid to get too involved, and clearly this sudden spate of dreams was a wake-up call, a reminder of the hollowness he'd felt for too many years as a youth. They were a warning that he could easily feel that way again if he let things get out of hand with the curvy little blonde nestled against him.
The dread of losing his sister had forged a quick intimacy with Lily similar to what he'd experienced as a soldier in combat situations. Now that Glynnis's kidnapping had turned out to be a false alarm, he felt almost giddy with relief. But that didn't mean he should jump into a more serious involvement with Lily. She was every bit the keeper Coop had called her. Zach just wouldn't be the one keeping her. She deserved better than to be short-changed that way. Love, at least of the romantic variety, had never been part of his makeup.
The only bonds he'd ever had that lasted beyond a week or two were with Glynnie and the Corp. And face it, except for Coop and lohn, even his brothers in arms had come and gone in his life. He simply didn't possess the stuff tight relationships were made of.
But when Lily uttered a little hum of contentment in her sleep, Zach's arm automatically tightened around her waist and he snugged her a little closer. He blew out an impatient breath. Aw, hell. Why was he inventing problems where none existed?
So he didn't have a knack for relationships. Big deal—not all things were intended for all people. But that didn't mean he wasn't entitled to a little fling. He and Lily were adults; they knew the score. The two of them shared an eyes-wide-open, you-scratch-my-itch-and-I'll-scratch-yours type of arrangement. The fact it wasn't permanent was tacitly understood.
That wasn't to say he didn't care about her, though. Because he did—to his amazement, he realized he cared quite a bit. Somehow, of all the crazy, unlikely things, they'd ended up friends. But that's all they were, a couple of good friends looking to have a little fun while they could.
Having settled that to his satisfaction, he wrapped himself more tightly around Lily and sighed with the contentment of having her in his arms. Then, letting go of everything else, he allowed sleep to suck him back into its depths.
Things would work out fine, he thought hazily just before he drifted off. The only way matters could possibly get screwed up between them was if one of them were to go and do something stupid like fall in love.
And that wasn't likely to happen. He wouldn't let it. Should their relationship ever show signs of getting too serious, he'd do what was best for both of them and cut it off. And hell, chances were, if he wasn't quick enough to do it himself, Lily would do it for him.
Because if there was one thing he could count on, it was that practical, levelheaded Lily would never go all foolish and romantic on him.
Chapter 23
LEVELHEADED WAS THE LAST THING LILY FELT the next evening as she followed the Compass Room host across Rosario Resort's most elegant dining room. She couldn't seem to stop smiling, and when she glanced over her shoulder and caught Zach eyeing the swing of her hips, she grinned even wider. She flashed him an I saw that wag of her eyebrows when his gaze lifted to meet hers, then quickly composed her features as the host stopped at a window table overlooking the bay and pulled out a chair. She thanked him as he seated her, then dismissed him from her mind in almost the same breath and leaned toward her date as he took his own seat across the linen-draped table.
Her date . She rolled the word around in her mind, jazzed right down to her pointy-toed, stiletto-heeled shoes that Zach had gone to the trouble of arranging this evening for them. She pushed aside the charger and plate in front of her and leaned toward him. Ordinarily, she'd be all agog to check out every aspect of the restaurant from its artfully folded linen napkins to the way the traffic flowed throughout the room. But tonight her professional goals weren't foremost on her mind, and she gazed at Zach's smooth-shaven countenance. "This," she sighed happily, "is so nice."
"Yeah, Jessica was sure you'd like it."
"Oh, well, yes. The restaurant, too." She planted her chin in her palm and her elbow on the table, and gazed dreamily past the small vase of fresh yellow rosebuds at the man sitting so straight and tall across the table. "But I meant this." She indicated the two of them. "You and me—having an honest-to-gosh date. We've sort of gone about this relationship backwards."
A look of what in any other guy she might have termed alarm flashed across his face. But his expression just as quickly cleared, and since he was hardly the type to panic regardless of the cause—let alone show it—she decided it must have been a trick of light from the tiny lamp next to the roses. A deduction that seemed validated by the easy shrug he gave her.
"You've been cooking up a storm and handling all the KP since we got here." He flashed her a smile that was all gleaming white teeth. "And with the missing-link Ernestine back in the kitchen now that Darling David's been restored to the throne, I thought it was time to give you a break. You've waited on everyone else. Let someone wait on you for a change."
So it wasn't poetry. She didn't care. It was the kind of autocratic-protective thing he usually reserved for Glynnis, his I-take-care-of-what's-mine attitude, and she gave him a crooked smile. "Works for me."
He sprawled back in his chair and gazed at her, his eyes roaming to the hint of cleavage that showed above her scooped neckline before raising to meet her own. He gave her a lazy, carnal smile, and when she felt his big feet encroaching on her territory under the table, she deftly unbuckled the ankle strap on her right shoe, slipped the pump off, and ran her toe up beneath the cuff of his slacks. Stroking him from ankle to shin, she enjoyed seeing his eyes darken, and continued to tease him even after the waitress arrived with the menus. The minute the young woman had taken their drink order and left, Zach leaned forward.
"You're playing with fire there, honey chile."
"Um-hmm." She stropped her toe up and down, up and down. "Don'tcha just love fires? They make a person feel so nice and"—she dropped her voice to a breathy murmur—"hot."
"Keep it up and I'll show you hot." His voice was a deep rasp that licked its way down her spine. "Right here on the table, in front of all these fine folk."
She made a moue but slid her foot out from under his pant leg and worked it back into her shoe. "Party pooper."
"Hey, I'm just trying to spare the other diners' sensibilities."
"Yeah, right." A laugh purled out of her throat. "I could tell that by your proposed demonstration on the tabletop."
"Honey, I've got a pole tenting the front of my trousers large enough to support a Big Top. The fire alarm goes off because of all this heat you're generating, and I'm going to give that blue-haired lady over there a heart attack."
Lily grinned. "Maybe. But it'd be from sheer envy."