Out of the Blue Read online

  “Oh, my,” she whispered. “You’re...”

  “Aroused?” He gave her a tight smile. “I’ve been in this sorry state for two nights now, thank you very much. Can you see how wrong you are now? It isn’t you, surely you can feel that much.”

  She licked her dry lips. “But I don’t get it. This should be so simple. I know your life down in L.A. is important to you. I know you crave wild adventure and excitement, you’ve always craved that. And I know Avila doesn’t do it for you. I’m not expecting anything other than this, Zach. I’m not.”

  “You should.” Unable to help himself, he slid his hands up her smooth thighs, around to her bottom, beneath her T-shirt. He filled his hands with her.

  “I’m not going to beg you,” she whispered.

  In a second, he’d be the one begging. He couldn’t stop his fingers from roaming, from skimming over as much of her as he could.

  “Zach....”

  “No,” he whispered, forcing his fingers still, though it was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

  She let out a rough sound of wanting, but she rose with grace and dignity, took her book and left him alone.

  Sleep was impossible.

  * * *

  THE NEXT AFTERNOON, Hannah ran across the bluffs to the stairs, then down to the beach. The sand sank between her toes as she walked to the water’s edge.

  She swam like clockwork every day—except when beautiful men named Zach Thomas came to town and messed up her thought process—which was why she could tear off her clothes and have her bathing suit already beneath.

  Today she had the beach to herself. And though she loved their guests, loved talking to them, for once she was grateful for the solitude.

  The water was icy, and did exactly what she’d banked on—cleared her brain in one quick wave that sucked the air right out of her.

  She held her breath and dove into the next wave, gliding beneath the water she knew better than the back of her own hand.

  Here she was at home. Alone. No demands on her time, no one needing her.

  It went without saying that she needed no one in return.

  There was a storm brewing, and the water was choppy, but she could handle it. She needed to handle it. She swam straight out.

  From shore, someone called her name.

  Zach.

  He was standing, some twenty-five yards back now, watching her with grim worry.

  “I’m fine,” she shouted.

  “Too far,” she thought she heard him call. He glanced up at the churning sky.

  “I’m fine,” she said again, but he ripped off his shirt, toed off his shoes and dove in after her. Hannah sighed in annoyance, but there was something else there, too, something far too close to a thrill.

  He was coming after her. She glanced at the sky and decided maybe he was right, there was a storm moving in. Just as she turned back, Zach called her name.

  She couldn’t help it, laughter bubbled, and enjoying that he’d come for her, she pumped her arms and legs faster, heading toward him now.

  That’s when it hit, a cramp that shot up her entire right leg and nearly paralyzed her with shocking pain. She couldn’t believe how much it hurt—it was everything she could do just to breathe.

  A swell towered over her head, but she couldn’t duck it, couldn’t body surf it, couldn’t do anything but double over with agony.

  The wave hit full force, dragging her under.

  When she managed to surface, Zach was right there in front of her, his face filled with terror.

  She had time to think he must be a fantastic swimmer to have covered that distance in a fraction of the time it had taken her, before she went under again. Then Zach had her.

  “What is it?” he demanded as he reached for her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Cramp.” She gasped, struggling to take in only air and not the entire ocean.

  The wind had picked up, and so had the size and the frequency of the waves. She squirmed to try to alleviate the pain, and went under again.

  “I’ve got you.” Zach’s arms slipped around her, and they were firm and filled with welcoming strength.

  The storm hit with a vengeance, sending a harsh, driving rain in their faces in tune with the choppy swells.

  “Hold on to me!” he yelled, as he started toward shore.

  But she couldn’t hold on, couldn’t do anything but convulse with pain. Another swell hit them. They both went under then, but he had her, had her tight to him, and she knew he wouldn’t let go. The pain was incredible, but it blocked out the heavy current, the stinging rain, everything but the shore wavering in and out in front of her.

  Zach never hesitated, just swam with long, sure, powerful strokes, though she could feel the tension radiating from every bone in his body.

  Another huge swell hit them, and Hannah was certain she’d be ripped away from Zach, but he held tight, refusing to let her go.

  “Almost there,” he said breathlessly.

  Hannah was lost in her world of agony. When she finally felt the sand beneath her feet, she nearly burst into tears, would have burst into tears, but she couldn’t breathe for the pain.

  They dropped heavily to the wet sand, gasping for air.

  Zach leaned over her, holding her still. As it continued to rain down on them, he pushed his fingers hard into her cramping muscles, so hard she saw stars, but finally, long moments later, bit by bit, she was able to relax. “Better,” she managed.

  Completely spent, he collapsed next to her. His arms came around her hard. Together they lay there beneath the rain and wind, shivering, but without the energy to move.

  “Well, that was a nice swim,” he was finally able to say.

  Hannah was busy concentrating on the heat of his chest, the very lovely sound of his heartbeat beneath her ear, his arms snug and secure around her. “I’m glad you were there.”

  “Me, too.” He rubbed his cheek over her hair, but still neither of them moved.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly. “Without you—”

  “Don’t. I don’t even want to think about it.”

  A few moments went by while they concentrated on being alive. “Zach?” she asked after awhile.

  “Yeah?”

  “This didn’t have anything to do with...you know.”

  “Seducing me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I know.” He smiled. “Saving you didn’t have anything to do with me continuing to try to resist you.”

  She managed a rusty laugh. “Okay. As long as we’re straight.”

  The wind whipped over them and she shivered. Zach let out a low sound of remorse. “A shower,” he decided, surging to his feet. “Hot water.”

  She couldn’t help imagining them in her shower, together, all slick, sleek, hot, drenched, soapy skin...

  “Hannah.” His voice was ragged. “Stop those thoughts.”

  “Okay.” But she slid her chest against his, just to get closer to his warmth.

  His gaze dipped down to her bathing suit.

  She was chilled through to the bone.

  They both stared at her hard nipples, pressing against the material. He groaned softly and closed his eyes. “Shower,” he said again. “Hot one for you, cold one for me.”

  CHAPTER 9

  ZACH GOT HIS OWN ROOM the next day. It should have taken his mind off his troubles, but his mind was occupied with the image of Hannah sprawled across the sand the day before, water beaded across her body, her eyes filled with hunger.

  She’d still wanted him. He’d wanted her.

  Even with the storm, she’d been hot and bothered, and so had he.

  He still was.

  And yet, whether she wanted to realize it or not, she wasn’t the quickie affair type, and he was discovering that neither was he.

  It was all so complicated, and complicated, in Zach’s opinion, was to be avoided, at all costs. Especially here. But his heart didn’t seem to be in agreement with his brain.

&nbs