Abigale jerked upright, her breath coming in harsh, ragged pants as she stared around. Confusion, heat, and hunger burned inside her. What in the world? The dream burned inside her brain like an afterimage, searing along the pathways of her mind and she groaned, flopping back on the bed and closing her eyes.
“Abby?”
Her eyes flew open and she shot back up, staring toward the door.
Two seconds later, Zach appeared in the door.
Then have me.
Those words, whispered against her mouth only seconds ago, echoed in her mind, and the dream, so vivid and bright, flashed through her memory as she stared at him.
He leaned against the doorway, arching a brow. “You’re still in bed.”
“Ah . . .” Glancing down, she stared at her rumpled sheets and blankets and then back up at him. “Ah, yes. Um. Late . . . late night.”
She swallowed again and then looked back up at him.
“I can see.” A faint grin curved his lips and he asked, “Were you up late formulating your response to Roger? Or carrying out some other nefarious step on your new life plan?”
She made a face at him even as blood crept up her neck to stain her cheeks red. Dreams didn’t count as carrying out nefarious steps. “Neither, you jackass. I was covering a job for a friend who ended up with the stomach bug that’s been going around.”
“Grace?”
She arched a brow. “How did you know that?”
“She’s about the only one you like well enough to take on a big job for at the last minute. Anyone else, you refer out to Midnight Delite.”
Sighing, she shoved her tangled hair back from her face. “You know me too well.”
“Hey, isn’t that what friends are for?” He shoved off the wall and swung the bag he had in his hand. “I was going to make you breakfast, if you were interested.”
“Breakfast, huh?” Eyeing the bag, she asked, “And just what are you making?”
“The only thing I can do that passes muster for the professional caterer.” He winked. “Bacon and an omelet.”
“Hmmm.” Her belly rumbled. “Well, I guess that decides that.” She went to climb out of the bed and that was when she remembered she’d been too damned tired to dig for clean pajamas last night. Wearing just a camisole and panties, she stood by the bed. Blood crawled up her neck, but she casually grabbed the robe from the foot of her bed and put it on. Hell, it wasn’t like Zach hadn’t seen her in less. Toward the end of their show, they’d had a few . . . mini-make-out sessions, including one where she’d been wearing just jeans and a bra. And hell, they went swimming together all the time in the summer.
Still . . .
Hell, he isn’t going to notice, she told herself as she tied the robe around her waist. Keeping that in mind, she made herself smile as she shifted her attention back to him.
And the look on his face stole the air right out of her.
His face could have been carved from stone and his eyes burned. They burned so hot, it was a miracle the air around them didn’t explode.
Shaken, caught off guard, she licked her lips as his gaze slowly moved up along her body, but before he met her eyes, he closed his eyes and in that moment, the strange tension in the air shattered. It fell apart and dissolved, like spun sugar in the rain. When he opened his eyes to look at her, it was as though it had never happened.
“So . . .” With his easy, cocky smile on his face, he met her gaze. “You want breakfast or should I just head home and eat it all myself?”
Chapter Six
His hands were shaking.
Once more, she’d done this to him.
Damn it, this was out of hand.
He’d dropped one of the eggs on the counter. He’d almost cut his finger off with the damned butcher knife and his hands were shaking as he went to flip the bacon.
Upstairs he could hear the pulse of the water and if he closed his eyes, he could just picture her standing under the spray. Water gliding over all those lush pale curves, her deep red hair hanging in wet ropes along her spine.
It wasn’t a new fantasy. He didn’t have new fantasies about Abby. He’d dreamed everything imaginable about her, but somehow, seeing her in that ridiculously thin, skimpy little top that she’d slept in and a