Page 38

He wore black jeans and an indigo T-shirt that did amazing things to his eyes.His hair, still slightly damp from the shower, gleamed in the low light, and she had to stop herself from reaching out to smooth back the thick swathe that caressed his forehead.
She’d learned very quickly that touching Zach hampered clear thinking.She’d barely made it into one of the short, white, off-the-sleeve sundresses she’d packed after casually caressing his chest as he’d walked past her in the bedroom.
He’d imprisoned her against the bedpost and proceeded to devour her mouth.The only thing that had saved her from another marathon sex session had been the loud growling of her ravenous stomach.
Zach had ordered an oyster starter for them, followed by steaks with fries and salad for himself, and a pasta carbonara for her.The accompanying Chardonnay had been heavenly, but it was the man sitting across from her who continued to make her insides zing every time she looked at him.
“What are you thinking?”she blurted, then kicked herself.She’d read in a magazine once that asking a man what he was thinking was asking to be hurt.She’d known him barely two days, but she already knew Zachary Savage had the power to hurt her.Even more than Chris had managed to hurt her with his gender-preference bullshit.
“I’m thinking about a lot of things, but mostly, I’m thinking… thirty minutes.”
“Thirty minutes?”
“Yep.That’s all that could’ve prevented this from happening.”He gestured between them, his gaze never leaving her face.“I don’t believe in coincidence or karma or any of that crap.But I can’t help thinking I was there, in New York, for a reason.Because now this has happened, I can’t imagine how the rest of my life would have been without this experience.”
Just like that, he’d floored her.Tears sprang to her eyes and she hurriedly blinked them away.
She swallowed.Then swallowed again, but the lump in her throat refused to move.
She spoke around it.“For a guy who doesn’t believe in karma, that’s a lot of responsibility to lay at the feet of coincidence.”
“I have a feeling I’d have met you again at some point.Sooner or later.”
“And how do you figure that?”
He shrugged.“You work in events organizing.I have several companies that use New York organizers.”
“That’s still a stretch.”
“So you think this was destiny?”
What had happened between them—and was happening—felt too powerful to be anything casual.And to be honest, it scared the hell out of her.“I don’t know.Maybe.”
“Whatever it is, I’m glad it happened now.”
“Why?”
“You prefer that we would’ve met when I was ninety and couldn’t fuck more than once a week?”
She laughed.“I guess not.”She took another bite of her food and chewed, supremely conscious that he was still staring at her.Bethany wondered if she’d ever get used to Zach’s unashamedly invasive stare whenever they were in the same room.It was almost as if he wanted to burrow under her skin and learn her every secret.
The weird thing was that a part of her wanted to hand him that freedom.
“So thirty minutes, and you would have been headed where exactly?”she asked.
He sipped his wine before answering.“San Francisco.That’s where I’m based.I have a house in the Palisades.We stopped in Newark to refuel.”
“Why San Francisco?Is that where you grew up?”
“No.”His eyelids descended, veiling the look in his eyes.When he raised them again, his expression was carefully neutral.“I grew up in Louisiana.”
His voice cautioned her not to probe any further.Despite the keen curiosity that assailed her, she heeded it.There was a reason Zachary Savage guarded his privacy so rabidly.Out of this world sex didn’t give her the right to know his every secret or vice versa.Although there was one thing she was curious about.
“Why indigo?”she asked.“Is that your favorite color?”
One corner of his mouth lifted in a smile that was off-the-scale sexy.Her insides clenched harder.“Partly.Indigo is my middle name.”
Her mouth dropped open.“No way.Your name is Zachary Indigo Savage?Were your parents hippies or something?”