Zach's Law (20 page)

And she didn’t have to call his name to know that Zach wasn’t in the house. She explored methodically, a distant part of her mind approving the spaciousness of the ground floor that was basically all one room, and the loft above that contained three bedrooms. And the only indications that Zach had used one bedroom were the clothes folded neatly in drawers and hanging in the closet, and the shaving kit tucked away in the bathroom; otherwise, it was as neat as if no one slept there.

Teddy went back downstairs, through the living area with its deep carpet and comfortable furniture, through the kitchen that was separated from the main room by a waist-high
partition, and out the back door. She went to the edge of the cliff, some instinct guiding her, and when she looked at the narrow strip of beach far below, she saw him.

He was standing utterly still, gazing out over the ocean, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He was alone. He looked alone.

He looked lonely.

After a moment Teddy went back to the house. She returned to her car, got her bags, and carried them into the house. Then she unpacked. In Zach’s bedroom.

Burning her bridges.

She was sitting, waiting, halfway down the spiral stairway when he returned more than an hour later. She didn’t call attention to herself with any sound but just watched as he crossed the living area and knelt to build a fire in the stone fireplace. His every movement was as graceful as she remembered, as riveting, and she watched him with hungry eyes.

He rose finally, and she did as well, moving silently across the thick carpet until she was a
few feet behind him. He was standing with head bent, gazing into the fire, and she could only hope that it was thoughts of her that seemed to have blunted his jungle-bred awareness of his surroundings.

“Zach?”

He stiffened, his shoulders hunching as though guarding against a blow. He didn’t make a sound or turn to face her.

Teddy took a deep, silent breath and spoke quietly. “A funny thing happened when I started east a few weeks ago. My car died on the side of a mountain, and I met a dangerous man. I was suddenly in the middle of a lot of things I hadn’t planned on. There were criminals and guns and stolen art. There were feelings I’d never known before. Everything happened—fast.

“And then that dangerous man sent me away. He said I’d get over it, what I felt. He said it wasn’t real. And I’d never felt like that before, so he could have been right. Because of
that, I left. I wanted to be sure. For his sake as well as my own.”

After a long moment she finished in a fierce tone, “Zach, dammit, I didn’t come three thousand miles to tell you that you were
right
!”

Still, he refused to look at her. He was standing stiffly, utterly motionless, and she realized that he was afraid to look in her eyes. Afraid of what he might see there. She stepped closer, still behind him, all her energy bent on reaching him.

Chaining her own inner wildness, she said in a deliberately stony voice, “I have never in my life met such a stubborn man, Zach Steele. Did you really think I’d believe all that garbage about chemistry and biology and lust? Did you really think I’d meekly allow myself to be sent out of your life for my own good? Oh, I went away. Because I knew you had to be sure. Because I knew damned well there was no other way of convincing you.”

She thought she could hear him breathing now, a rough, uneven sound, and pressed on in
a voice that was beginning to reflect the wildness inside her. “What makes you think you’re so damned hard to love, Zach? It was the easiest thing I’ve ever done to fall in love with you. So easy. It would have happened no matter where we were. In a cabin, on a boat, in a desert, or in the middle of Times Square at high noon.”

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “Do you know what was hard, Zach? Not being with you. Waking up alone in the morning. Drinking my lousy coffee instead of that wonderful stuff you make. That was hard. That was harder than anything.

“Maybe it won’t be so easy to live with a tough, dangerous man. Because you can’t turn away from danger and you won’t willingly take me with you into any more jungles. And we’ll probably fight about that. We’ll probably fight about these uncontrollable macho instincts of yours and—and your secretive nature. You don’t talk much and I talk all the time, but—
but you can always shut me up if you want to. You … know how to do that.

“Zach, what I’m trying to say is that living with you in jungles or cities or deserts or anywhere could never be harder than living without you.”

Teddy wasn’t aware that she was crying, or that her nails were biting into her palms. “And I’m not leaving you again,” she told him intensely. “Never again, do you hear me, Zach?” She caught her breath, whispering finally, “Unless you can tell me that you didn’t come after me because you didn’t want to, because you didn’t care enough. Can you tell me that, Zach?”

“No.” It was a grinding sound, raw and hoarse. “No, I can’t tell you that.” He turned slowly toward her, and what he saw in her eyes drained the tension from his strained face. His hands lifted, framing her face, his thumbs brushing away her tears. “What have I done to you?” he asked huskily.

“You sent me away,” she whispered. “Don’t ever do that again.”

And then she was in his arms, held in a fiercely tender embrace, and Zach’s broken voice was muffled against her neck. “I love you. God, honey, I love you so much! I don’t think I could have stood it much longer.”

She could hear the desolation in his voice, the strain of emotions held under control for far too long, and everything inside her opened up to him.

“Love me,” she whispered, and the storm inside her raged when Zach guided her down to the deep carpet before the fireplace.

   Cradled in his arms, she said curiously, “Would you have come after me?”

“I was scared to death even thinking about it,” he confessed, his deep voice a rumble. “But I would have. My head was telling me you couldn’t possibly really love me, but I couldn’t stand not knowing for sure. I would have had
to find out, even though I was afraid my head was right.”

Teddy raised herself on an elbow and smiled down at him. “Are you always so stubborn?” she asked.

“Yes. Daunting, isn’t it?”

“I’m terrified,” she said solemnly. “And I think there are still a few battles left to be fought.”

Zach opened his eyes and peered at her warily. “Uh-huh. You mentioned a few earlier, if I remember. Do you think we might postpone the war, though? At least until after I talk you into marrying me?”

She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Was that a proposal?” she asked, uninterested in wars.

“The beginning of one.”

“Well, finish it.”

“My beautiful love—”

“Yes. I’ll marry you.”

He smiled slowly, and his eyes were dark and deep. “I love you, Teddy. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

Gently, she said, “Just spend the rest of your life
with
me, Zach.”

Pulling her toward him, he murmured just before his lips met hers, “I’ll never do anything easier than that.”

I
N HIS CRAMPED
office where he rarely worked, Kelsey tucked in his elbows and typed disgustedly. “You’d better be glad Zach found himself a lady,” he advised his boss in a voice that was trying to assume the rhythm of his typing. “Otherwise, if he hadn’t been so distracted, he’d have been out for your blood. Damn. I typed
blood
.”

The office had no window, so Hagen gazed out the door, flapping his hands gently behind his back. The portrait of a man deep in thought.

Kelsey wasn’t impressed. “Why don’t you
give it up, boss? You’ve got a snowball’s chance in hell of snaring Lucas for an assignment, and even if you manage it, you’ll just be giving Zach another opportunity to clean your clock.”

Hagen turned and stared at him. “Clean my clock?” he inquired with awful dignity.

Still not impressed, Kelsey said, “Put your lights out. Ring your bell. Beat hell out of you. Take your choice.”

Pulling a folded paper from his pocket, Hagen opened it and studied the closely spaced type. After a moment he said musingly, “Skeletons in the closet.”

Kelsey stopped typing and leaned back as far as he was able. His lean face was unusually grim. “I hope you don’t mean what I think you mean. Because if you’ve stumbled over some dark secret and plan to blackmail Lucas—”

“That’s a dirty word, my boy.”

“It sure as hell is.”

Hagen’s Cupid’s-bow lips curved in a smile, and his twinkling little eyes were brighter
than usual. “And unnecessary, I assure you. Kendrick will take the assignment, if only to complete the job his friend started. No, the skeletons in the closet are something else entirely. The human element.”

Kelsey rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “Don’t tell me. You’re going to partner Lucas with someone out of his dark and stormy past?”

Hagen looked at the paper he held again, his expression thoughtful. “Dark, certainly. Stormy? I don’t know. He seems to have covered his tracks well.”

Beginning to be seriously alarmed, Kelsey said, “Boss, if you rake up something he wants to forget, you’d better be ready to tangle with all of those guys who work for Josh. And you don’t want that.”

He was splendidly ignored. “The human element,” Hagen murmured to himself. “Yes. This should do it.”

Kelsey groaned.