by LENA DIAZ,
Cole simply stared at him, waiting.
Zack blew out a frustrated breath. “This is so messed up.”
“I know.”
The regret in Cole’s voice sounded genuine. Zack realized that his friend didn’t like the idea any more than he did.
He looked over Cole’s shoulder at her. And from the hopeful, determined look on her face, he knew she wasn’t bluffing about going it alone.
“All right. I’ll do it.”
He expected Cole to thank him, or at the very least tease him because he’d been able to badger him into agreeing to do what Zack absolutely did not want to do. Instead, Cole gave him an uncomfortable look. Like there was something else they needed to discuss, something Zack already knew he wasn’t going to be happy about.
“What?” he demanded. “Spit it out. Whatever it is can’t be half as bad as what you’ve already asked.”
Cole sighed deeply. “I told you that Kaylee had shared a lot of information. That information came at a price, a bargain she made me agree to at the outset of the interview.”
“That I’d take her out to the swamp?”
“Yes.”
“And you just assumed that you’d be able to get me to agree.”
Cole shrugged. “I wasn’t sure, to be honest.”
Zack shook his head. “Go on. Finish it. What else did you promise her?”
The words rushed out of Cole like a confession, so quickly that it took them a moment to sink in. When they did, Zack stared at him, dumbfounded. Because what Cole had just asked him wasn’t half as bad as his first request.
It was worse.
Chapter Ten
As hotels went, Kaylee was used to far more luxurious accommodations than what this one offered. But since the La Quinta was less than two miles from the sheriff’s office, where the search parties would rendezvous in the morning, this was the perfect location. Not that she’d had a choice. Zack refused to let a victim pay the tab, so he chose a place that was police-budget friendly. There was a Red Roof Inn a little closer to the sheriff’s office. But it didn’t have inside hallways or what he called good vantage points, whatever that meant. So, the La Quinta it was.
But it wasn’t the lack of luxuries, or even the fact that the suites had been sold out, leaving them sharing a room with double beds, that had her nervous as Zack slid the hotel key card into the electronic lock. It was the tight, shuttered expression on his face as he held the door open for her to enter.
The kind, caring man she’d met nearly a month ago had dissolved the instant that Cole told him her deal—that she would only cooperate in the investigation if Zack was assigned to her—meaning, where she went, he went, including to a hotel for the night.
He’d taken her to Marco’s Bar & Grill for dinner after leaving the sheriff’s office, where they’d eaten a rather delicious seafood dinner that she’d have enjoyed any other time. But sitting in silence with Zack’s stoic profile across from her as he monitored every person coming in and out of the restaurant took all the pleasure out of the meal. She’d been more than relieved to get out of there. But it didn’t look like the evening was improving now that they were at the hotel.
She smiled thinly at Zack as she swept inside, not that it mattered. He was cold, stony, remote—polite, but not doing anything that could be misconstrued as friendly either. She tried not to let it bother her, but it was as if her only support net had been ripped away. The one person who seemed to understand her, whom she’d felt a kinship with, was now treating her like a stranger. And it hurt.
Keeping her expression devoid of emotion, she surveyed her surroundings—which took only a few seconds. The short hallway led past a small bathroom and into the bedroom. A dresser, work desk and TV took up the wall on the right. The two beds, separated by an end table, were on the left. Filmy white curtains framed a large window at the end of the room, with an air-conditioning unit beneath it, currently set to arctic levels. The room was freezing.
She shivered and rubbed her bare arms as she considered which bed to choose. Zack took the choice away from her, plopping the duffel bag he’d brought from his truck down onto the bed closest to the door, and placing her small suitcase on the bed nearest the window.
He’d insisted on a second-floor room when he’d registered. In answer to her question of why, he’d mumbled something about controlling access points. He made a quick circuit of the room, checking the window, pulling the heavy drapes over the small flimsy ones, blocking out the rather unimpressive view of the parking lot. Then he adjusted the air-conditioner and grabbed a thermal blanket out of the closet, tossing it onto the foot of her bed as he passed back to the main door.
Maybe he was paying more attention to her than she’d thought. She nodded her gratitude and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. He checked the lock on the door, threw the security bar across it and surprised her by tilting the desk chair underneath the door handle, as well. Was he normally that careful or was he doing that just to make her feel secure? She didn’t know, didn’t ask.
Without a word, he grabbed a small leather toiletry bag from his duffel, went into the bathroom and firmly shut the door behind him.
Kaylee sighed and unzipped her suitcase. Might as well get ready for bed. Tomorrow was going to be a difficult day, probably the most difficult she’d faced since escaping the devil. And she’d need a good night’s sleep to ensure that she was as ready as she could be, and hopefully, ready to piece all of her memories together and find the camp where she’d been held.
After taking her own turn in the bathroom, she slid into bed.
A whisper of sound had her eyes fluttering open. She frowned at the unfamiliar ceiling above her for a moment before remembering where she was—the hotel room. A soft, yellow glow of light dimly lit the room. She turned her head on her pillow, saw that the bedside clock said it was just a little after midnight. But she didn’t even remember falling asleep. And the bed beside hers was empty.
She gasped with alarm and sat up, clutching her covers to her chest. Relief swept through her when she saw Zack. He hadn’t left her, as her sleepy mind had at first assumed. He was sitting at the desk at the foot of her bed, writing something on a piece of paper. While she watched, he reached back without turning around and gently patted her leg, all while whispering, “Shhh, it’s okay, Kaylee. It’s okay. You’re safe. Shhh.”
When she didn’t move or say anything, the patting eventually stopped. He pulled his hand back then smoothed out what she now realized was some kind of map. She had a very bad feeling about why he’d patted her by rote, without even turning to look at her, and why he was awake at this hour.
Testing her theory, she gasped again. Immediately, his arm shot out and he started patting her again, whispering those nonsensical words, without turning around.
Shame washed over her. Obviously, she must have had one of her awful nightmares. And Zack had soothed her, helped chase the nightmare away. But, as often happened, the nightmare had returned. And now he’d, what, given up on sleeping? He was working and keeping an ear out for her distress so he could chase her nightmares away every time they came back?
She wrapped her arms around her waist and scooted back against the headboard. The movement was significant enough to make him turn his head this time, and his eyes widened when he saw that she was awake.
“You okay?” His voice was somber, quiet, and...tired. There were dark circles under his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “What did I do? Scream?”
He hesitated, watching her, almost warily. “Once.”
“So you soothed me in my sleep, got me to quiet down. And then I kept slipping back into my nightmare.” She waved toward his hand resting on the foot of the bed. “I ruined your sleep. You’ve been sitting there for, what, hours? Calming me down every time I grow restless ag
ain. I’m so, so sorry. Why didn’t you just wake me up?”
He pulled his hand back from the bed. “I couldn’t sleep, anyway, not your fault. No reason for both of us to be tired in the morning.”
She let out a sigh and watched him. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, so she let her gaze idly slip across his golden-tanned skin, his sculpted shoulders and muscular arms. Biting her lower lip, she allowed her gaze to slide lower, tracing down to see that he was wearing shorts, but nothing else except a pair of white ankle socks. The man was practically naked, and it was doing all kinds of crazy things to her belly, not to mention the room suddenly seemed to have heated at least ten degrees.
“I’ll try to be more quiet,” he said, causing her gaze to rise to his face.
As if he was suddenly aware of her fascination with his near-naked state, he frowned and turned back around.
The sound that had awakened her, that whisper of noise, sounded again. Curious, and completely awake now, she tossed the covers back and slid her own sock-covered feet out of bed. She wasn’t one for walking on hotel carpet in bare feet, not wanting to risk trodding without shoes where countless others had been. She wondered if he wore socks to keep his feet warm, or whether he was a bit of a germophobe like her.
Since she was wearing long-sleeved and long-legged pale yellow pajamas, and a bra for modesty, she didn’t bother grabbing her robe. She padded across the floor to stand beside him. Since the only true desk chair was currently propped under the handle to the main door, he’d pulled one of the two small armchairs over and was sitting in that. She grabbed the other one and pulled it beside his and then plopped down.
He frowned at her but then went back to his perusal of the map.
She took the opportunity to study his chiseled profile, admire the thick lashes that framed his dark blue eyes.
His frown deepened and he blew out an impatient breath as if he was aware of her perusal. “Did you need something?”
“Just...wondering what you’re doing.”
He sighed again, obviously not thrilled that she’d joined him. But she’d already discovered that he was too polite to be out-and-out rude or mean-spirited in any way, so he didn’t tell her to go away. Plus, she knew something else about him now. He cared, really cared. A man who didn’t care wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of moving himself to the foot of her bed where he could calm her through her nightmares. A man who didn’t care would have simply woken her up then tried to get his own sleep while she was the one sitting up and worrying that she might fall asleep again and cry out.
No, Zack wasn’t the angry man he’d been since they’d left the sheriff’s office. That Zack was the exception, not the rule. The real Zack was the one that had saved her from the devil, the one who’d seemed aggravated at first at the airport, but who’d quickly exchanged that aggravation for concern when he’d realized how freaked out she was about being caught in such a public, busy place. That was the Zack she was most comfortable with, the man she admired. So this one, the irritable one, didn’t bother her anymore.
“Why are you looking at a map?” she asked, since he hadn’t answered her.
One second went by, two.
“I’m reviewing the topography of the grid we’ll be searching tomorrow.” The tone of his voice sounded more resigned now, less angry, as if he’d realized she wasn’t going back to sleep unless he answered her questions, and he didn’t see the point in arguing.
She leaned toward him, automatically clutching his shoulder for balance as she peered at the map. “Why?”
His gaze shot to her hand. But he didn’t say anything, didn’t ask her to move it, so she didn’t. She simply looked up at him and smiled.
His eyes widened and he looked away, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. She was making him nervous. And she was enjoying it. He’d made her nervous and upset since the moment Cole had ordered him to watch over her for the night and take her to the search sight tomorrow. Served him right that she was returning the favor now.
He cleared his throat. “I’m memorizing as much of it as I can, checking out the terrain, where the canals go, its general location in relation to the highway.” He looked at her again, his emotions shuttered away, once again the calm, in-control police officer. “Cell phones, GPS trackers, even compasses are temperamental out there. Your safety is my responsibility and I don’t want to get you lost.”
Staring into those beautiful blue eyes, that achingly handsome face, up this close, with him half-naked and her in her pajamas in a hotel room no less, at any other time, would have made her giddy with the rush of hormones and the beginnings of a raging crush. But after everything she’d gone through, none of those emotions seemed appropriate. Instead, they were ridiculous, wrong. So why, then, was her skin flushing hot, her gaze dropping to his lips?
“Kaylee.” His voice sounded tight, strained. “What are you doing?”
She frowned then looked down and realized she was stroking his naked shoulder. If her face had seemed hot before, now it positively burned...with embarrassment. She jerked her hand back and leaned away from him.
“Sorry,” she murmured. She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Seriously. I’m really, really sorry. I can’t believe I did that.”
“Why don’t you get back in bed, go to sleep?” he said. “It’s going to be a trying day tomorrow, a long day.”
“What about you?” She waved toward the map. “You need your sleep, too.”
Something dark, angry flickered in the depths of his eyes. “You didn’t seem worried about that when you blackmailed Cole into convincing me to take you here tonight.”
She jerked back. “Why are you so mad about that?”
“I don’t like being forced to do something I don’t want to do.”
“What’s the real reason?”
“Excuse me?”
She rolled her eyes. “Come on. You’re a big, strong, smart man. You don’t work for Cole, or even Lieutenant Shlafer. You’re working as a volunteer, because I was discovered in your territory, your jurisdiction. I don’t believe for one second that you resent me for blackmailing you. Because if you really didn’t want to look after me, you’d have simply said no and walked away. So what’s the real reason that you’re so upset?”
His eyes darkened, and she could tell she’d struck some kind of chord in him. But what? She really didn’t understand why he was so angry.
“I don’t want you in danger,” he finally said. “The lieutenant never should have agreed to let you go back to the swamp.”
She cocked her head, studying him. “I don’t want to go either, Zack. But what kind of person would I be if I don’t?”
She watched him for another moment, and then she sucked in a breath as a thought occurred to her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even consider... I never asked whether this, staying in the hotel room together, could be a problem for you. Is there a girlfriend or fiancée who might be upset about you staying with me? I’m sorry that I didn’t think about that before. I should have asked.”
The blood seemed to drain from his face, and she belatedly realized she’d said something that had hurt him, perhaps crossed a line. What had she said? Girlfriend? Fiancée? Why would that make him act like she’d physically struck him?
And then she knew.
Because she’d felt like that once herself, that devastating feeling of loss when, back in middle school, her best friend was killed in a car accident. Without thinking about it, she took his left hand in both of hers.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “How did she die?”
He froze, shocked. “How did you know?”
“Pain recognizes pain, I suppose. I was in eighth grade when I lost my best friend in an accident. I still remember how I felt, how I still feel when something happens to make me think about her. Your loss is more recent, I
would guess?”
“Five years. We were college sweethearts, engaged to be married. She felt a lump one day. Four months later she was gone.”
“Breast cancer?”
He nodded.
“I’m so sorry. What was her name?”
He didn’t look like he wanted to tell her, but then he did.
“Jo Lynne.”
Kaylee had always been what her mom called a touchy-feely kind of person, sometimes crossing boundaries, getting into other people’s space without realizing it. She couldn’t help it. If she felt bad for someone, she wanted to make them feel better. And since hugging made her feel better, she didn’t stop to think about her next action. She just slid her arms around Zack’s waist and rested her head against his chest, hugging him close.
At first he didn’t move, just stiffened in his chair with her awkwardly leaning against him. But then it was like a dam broke inside him, and he was holding her just as tightly as she was holding him. His cheek nestled against the top of her head, his soft breath fanning out against her scalp. With her encouraging him, he began to tell her about Jo Lynne—slowly at first, then the words rushed out, in ebbs and flows, as he told her about this woman he’d once loved enough to plan forever with her.
Until he lost her.
When he stopped talking, they continued to hold each other for a long time. Her ear pressed against his chest, listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart. Him gently rubbing her back, his cheek moving every once in a while against the top of her head. When he finally pulled away and stared down at her, she expected to see regret, perhaps even embarrassment that he’d confessed his pain to her, a woman he probably thought of as a relative stranger, even though she felt like she knew him better than most men she’d ever met. But there was no embarrassment, no regret, no anger anymore. There was something else in the depths of his eyes. Relief, perhaps? That he’d finally been able to talk about something that she sensed he’d never really spoken about before?
His hand shook as he feathered her hair back from her face. He swallowed, hard, and then he was gone, shutting the bathroom door between them, as if he needed that barrier to compose himself again.