Hold Me Close - Talia Hibbert Page 0,297

issue. She couldn’t allow her worthless ex to derail her evening. “We were going to continue our agreed-upon—”

“Agreed upon,” Zach cut in with a snort. “Aren’t you sharp tonight.” His tone was even sharper. But when he looked at her, she saw something beseeching in his eyes. “Do me a favour, sunshine,” he sighed. “Don’t talk about fucking favours.”

If she were sensible, she would interpret that as an obvious rejection. And she would carefully ignore the rapid beat of his heart against her palm, the yearning in his voice, the way his grip on her tightened as if he couldn’t let her go.

But Rae wasn’t feeling sensible. She noticed everything, and she let herself enjoy it. Stopped trying to hide her own yearning, her own longing, her own tight grip on him. Holding his gaze, she said, “Alright. No favours.”

He nodded curtly. Then she leaned in close, and everything about him tensed.

“Zach,” she whispered, as if they were starting again. “Will you come upstairs with me?”

He pulled back to look at her face. She watched his expression shift from disbelief to sheer, shocking pleasure. Then came his smile, slow and sweet and so fucking sexy. Teasing as ever, he asked, “Upstairs? What for?”

She smiled back, a little afraid and a lot determined. “I have a list.”

Chapter 13

This time, Zach managed to take a detour for necessary supplies. Condoms, which he hadn’t needed in a while, and a bottle of the silky, flavourless lube he actually liked—plus two Red Bulls because sleep was for people who didn’t have a shot with Baby Ann McRae.

His lips twitched as he remembered her wrinkling her nose at her own name. Then, without warning, more memories followed: Rae, Rae, Rae, so fucking wonderful. The look in her eyes, burning desire and hesitant trust, when she’d spread her legs for him. The exhausted curl of her right hand after she signed all those books. The way she smiled at her own reflection when she looked especially good. How she said whatever it took to catch him by surprise, and braided her hair all pretty, and drifted away inside her own head.

What came next wasn’t a realisation so much as a release: he was in love with Rae.

Zach stopped dead in the middle of a hotel corridor and breathed, “Fuck.”

He should’ve figured this out a while ago. Hell, he had a sneaking suspicion he’d started falling for her before he’d even developed an attraction toward her. It was the kind of oblivious shit he did all the time, but right now it was extremely inconvenient. Something had shifted between them tonight, something monumental—but he was 100% sure that if he mentioned his feelings, she’d panic and pull back.

He started walking again, muttering sternly to himself. “Keep your mouth shut, Davis. Keep it together.”

Love danced on the tip of his tongue.

By the time he slipped his key card into the door of their hotel room, his hands were shaking. Fear, love, and way-too-intense lust had him in their grip, and he was breathing slow and deep to calm himself down. Blood rushed in his ears like a stormy sea, every breath tasted of urgency, and his thoughts had narrowed to a single, shit-scary refrain.

If you fuck it up, this might be all you ever get.

But that wasn’t true. He couldn’t let himself believe it. Rae was skittish, and he understood why, but he could prove that she didn’t need to be. His long-term plan involved regular orgasms and casual intimacy and the perseverance of a fucking ox, and he would make it work.

She was sitting in the glow of the bedside lamps, looking all prim and pretty in nothing but a T-shirt and her underwear. He was arrested by the sight of her, but it took him a second to realise what was different. She’d taken her hair down, so for once, it was completely loose. No braids at the front; just a wild, brown and bronze length that was starting to frizz and curl at the ends. She watched him approach with fathomless eyes, and for a moment he felt like prey. Like she was about to sink her teeth into him in the best way possible, and he should approach with caution.

It wasn’t a sensation he disliked. Quite the fucking opposite.

He put down his pharmacy bag, threw her a can of Red Bull, and said, “For later.”

She gave him that familiar, one-sided smile with a brand new, sex-hungry edge. “You have the best ideas.”

“I should shower.”

“No,