dancing across her nose.
And most definitely yes, she’d grown into those long, long legs—legs that now could be registered as a lethal weapon, for she’d nearly stopped him in his tracks when he’d stumbled across her in the kitchen.
If he hadn’t been about to fall asleep on his feet, he might have been able to fully appreciate those unexpected, and delightful, changes.
He might have even enjoyed the décor of the lodge, knowing his sister and her friends were far more talented than he could have imagined. He might have wondered who Hannah had kicked out of the clearly full lodge in order to give him a place to crash.
But his mind had gone fuzzy, and amazing as it seemed for a man who hadn’t been with a woman for far too long, he couldn’t even think about it.
He needed sleep.
Beyond that, he probably needed some good food, too, and some serious brain rest, but if he didn’t take care of the sleep first, he was going to fall down on the spot.
Again, his job’s fault. Portraying someone else for an entire year on the undercover sting, then living on the edge for that long, always on guard and never being able to relax, was incredibly hard on the body.
Oh yes, and being shot.
That hadn’t helped, either.
He’d assumed he’d fully recuperate, but suddenly he had his doubts, and it scared him.
His job was his life. He hadn’t set out for it to be so, but he’d always wanted to be the best, and to do that, sacrifices had been made. His personal life, for one. He’d been so busy being a cop, being a good cop, he’d lost a part of himself. Strange how he’d been perfectly happy that way, until he couldn’t do his job.
Now, that life seemed...empty. No, that wasn’t right.
Maybe it was just exhaustion.
On the second-floor landing he came to a small sitting area. There was a fireplace, and several couches were nicely arranged for easy gathering.
Seated there was an older couple sharing a pot of tea. Mr. and Mrs. Schwartz, they were all too happy to tell him, when he made the mistake of pausing one second too long and they introduced themselves.
Mr. Schwartz gave him a sly smile. “You’re here to pick up babes, I bet. Saw a bunch on the beach today.”
Mrs. Schwartz turned on him. “You said you didn’t notice!”
“Only helping out the young man, dear.”
“Did he ask you for help? No!” Mrs. Schwartz took her husband’s cup of tea right out of his hands and placed it on the tray in front of them. “Always butting in, you are. I’m sure this nice young man doesn’t need any help finding a woman to keep his bed warm at night, especially from you. Isn’t that right?”
She looked at Zach questioningly, and under different circumstances, such as when he wasn’t literally ready to fall on his face, he might have laughed. “I’m just here to rest,” he said, earning a smirk from the older man.
“Well, just ‘rest’ on the east end,” Mr. Schwartz suggested. “That beach is a hot spot. A regular babe magnet.”
Mrs. Schwartz smacked her husband.
“Uh...thanks.” Zach backed away just in time to see the older man lay the charm on his wife, who cackled her surrender and kissed him.
Shaking his head at the mysteries of a relationship that old, yet still together no matter how rocky, Zach kept walking. His room was at the very far end, down a hallway and away from any activity.
A Good Thing.
He let himself in. Without bothering to turn on the lights, he dropped his bag to the floor and kicked off his shoes. Hannah had told him there was one bedroom, a bathroom and a small sitting room. All he needed at the moment was the bed, so that’s where he headed.
The bedroom windows were open to the night air and moon. He’d showered in his condo in Los Angeles before he’d started the drive, so he simply pulled off his shirt, kicked off his jeans, sighed deeply, and slid under the covers.
Before his head settled on the pillow—which held an oddly arousing scent of some sort of flower he couldn’t quite place—he was fast and deeply asleep.
* * *
HANNAH COULDN’T CONCENTRATE on work, and was it any wonder? Zach was here. Here.
It had to be Fate.
Now all she had to do was get him to want to sleep with her. Maybe not a problem for most women, but Hannah knew it would be a task. Never in her life had she been able to make a man want to sleep with her, so she had no idea what made her think she could do it now, but she was up for the challenge.
She had to be. The timing was right, she could feel it. It would help if she knew exactly how to do it, but if she knew what she was doing, then she wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.
Seduce him. That’s all.
Zach didn’t have to know all her problems. That she scared men off more quickly than she could blink. That she wanted, needed, to know what she was missing. No, he could remain oblivious.
It was all perfect, Zach was perfect. Yes, he’d been a wild rebel in his day, but he’d turned out okay. He was a cop, for God’s sake. She knew beneath his tough exterior that he was kind. Sensitive.
And as for the passionate part, one look in his eyes and her knees had trembled. That was passion, right? She was fairly certain.
Just do it. The slogan worked for running shoes and it would work here. Which was why she’d taken such drastic measures. She’d actually put him in her room for the night.
Oh, and one minor detail—she hadn’t told him. How else to get him into her bed? How she’d gotten the nerve, she’d never know, but the wheels were in motion now. Zach was in her room, her bed, hopefully exhausted enough to not question it.
To combat the nerves, and to give herself some time to relax, she threw herself into work. She decided to take the late evening shift at the icecream and gift shop, and if she was distracted, it was no wonder.
There was a man in her bed.
“Hey, Boss,” Karrie called out when she walked in.
Karrie was one of their four part-time employees. She had green hair, green eye shadow and matching green fingernails. She had a silver tongue stud and a pierced eyebrow. And she was absolutely great with the guests.
“I came to help with the crowd,” Hannah told her, moving behind the counter.
Karrie looked around her at the nearly empty shop—there was only one young couple in a booth sharing pie—tucked her tongue in her cheek and nodded gamely. “Yeah, I’m pretty overwhelmed here.”
Hannah ignored her and used the excuse of being there to devour a triple-decker chocolate cone.
“Ah, you’ve got man trouble.” Karrie, all of nineteen, nodded again, as if she knew all about such things.
“I do not have man trouble. This...” Hannah gestured to her nearly eaten cone. “This has nothing to do with a man.” Not much anyway. She helped herself to another scoop.
“Whatever you say, boss.”
“It really doesn’t.”
“Uh-huh.” Karrie calmly sponged down the counter. “Is he at least cute?”
Gorgeous. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“That means yes.”
Hannah stopped eating and looked at Karrie with renewed interest. Desperate times, desperate measures, she thought. “Do you...know a lot about men?”
That