Chapter Forty-Seven
In the midst of twisting the cap from a bottle of sparkling water, Zach heard a metallic clink followed by a muffled sound coming from outside the front door and glanced up with interest from behind the kitchen counter. Taking a quick swig of the water, he wiped his mouth and padded to the door, wearing loose-fitting gray linen drawstring pants, a black T-shirt, and bare feet.
Kendall was crouched outside the door, frantically searching the recently rain-washed pavement for something. "Hey," Zach drawled, expecting a response from her corresponding to the pleasure he felt at her return home, "I'm up here." But when she looked up at him silently, her eyes were wide and troubled and unfocused. When he instinctively began to ease himself down to her level, he finally elicited a reply.
"Don't do that, Zach, you might hurt yourself!" Kendall quickly rose to her feet, brushing her hands against each other. "Ugh! What a time to drop my key. The ground's all wet and I can't see a thing." At last her gaze fell upon and enveloped him, and as it did the pitch of her voice lowered, the stress in her eyes evaporated. She added in a whisper, "Except for you."
A second later Kendall was swept into his arms, and they hugged wordlessly and tightly as if they'd been parted for days instead of hours, because that was what it suddenly felt like to Zach. "God, I missed you," he said, resting his cheek against the top of her head and uncaring that his unreserved display of emotion exposed his feelings so utterly. Such displays were getting easier all the time. Holding back would have been pointless and self-defeating. He wanted Kendall to know exactly how he felt. At the moment he was unable to show her in any other way.
He could tell something was wrong, though. Something more urgent than a lost key easily located in the morning was preying on her mind. Renewed tension in Kendall's body was communicating itself to him along his nerve endings. Drawing her inside, Zach kicked the door shut behind them with his foot. Kendall remained rather passive as he unbuttoned her coat, removed and tossed it on the sofa, and walked her into the bedroom with him. There he sat her down on the bed and slowly sat beside her, disguising his wince with a clearing of his throat.
"Lay it on me," he encouraged. "What happened tonight?"
"I don't even know where to begin," Kendall began, rubbing her hands along her arms. "The important thing is Miranda's still doing okay. I should leave it at that and just go pour myself a double vodka martini—you want one? Oh, never mind, you're not supposed to combine alcohol with the drug you're taking, and it's a moot point anyway because I don't even have vodka in the house. Or vermouth either, for that matter." She stood up in an attitude of indecision. "Do you mind if I have a small glass of wine, though? I could really use one. And come to think of it, Zach, have you eaten anything lately? I haven't and I'm starving. What do we have in the house? I'll eat just about anything, except cheese crackers—don't ask. But you know, maybe I should—"
"Whoa. Slow down." Zach reached up and placed his fingers across her mouth. "Tell me what has you so worked up."
Kendall removed his fingers, holding them out as if for her inspection. "Don't tempt me, Zach. If you want me to say you taste good, I will, and I can think of plenty of things you can do with these fingers, it's just that right now they don't count as food." But the look accompanying Kendall's flirtatious statement was more a distracted than a passionate one.
That was love; love required patience. Love required understanding. Above all love required the ability and the willingness to listen and keep your mouth shut until your evasive loved one was ready to spit out whatever was bothering her, and sometimes it was possible to facilitate the process, if not move the discussion into a more productive channel. Zach rose to his feet and easily pulled her back into his arms.
"I'm hungry, too—but not for food," he said decidedly, then tilted Kendall's face up to his. "I had groceries delivered while you were gone. Unfortunately, what I want I can't have at the moment. But if there's anything I can do to relieve your…hunger—?" His fingers descended along the line of her chin and throat and splayed across her breastbone.
The intrigued expression instantly flickering in her eyes let Zach know that Kendall intuited his meaning. Her eyes briefly closed and her breath came faster and his own did too. But then she took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and moved his hand to the top of her shoulder. "Oh, god, Zach, you know there is nothing I would like more," she said fervently, "except it wouldn't be fair, and…and…."
His hand traveled over her shoulder, down her spine, then back up. "Fell how tense you are, Kendall. Unless you tell me, I don't know why. I can only try to alleviate it."
Leaning her head against his chest, Kendall sighed and the dam seemed to burst. "I know but I still can't seem to help being in a total dither even so, Zach! Ryan was such an ass tonight. And get this—as many times as I've driven to and from the hospital in the past week, can you believe I got lost coming home? I took a wrong turn, and on top of that, my car got stuck in some mud and then my cell phone wouldn't pick up a signal!" She leaned back and looked up at him woefully.
"I thought I had problems," Zach commented dryly. Inside, his guts were churning as his mind's eye viewed the dark underside of the images Kendall's indignant recital conjured up. But that he needed to keep to himself, for it could do her no good now. She's all right, she's all right, he repeated to himself, nothing happened, she's not hurt, she got home, she got home safely.
"Oh, well, gee, I'm glad if you think it was funny," Kendall was sniffing. "But you wanted to know, and I wasn't laughing about any of it. If you really want to know the truth, I was scared shitless!"
Fuck. "Do you think the possibility of anything happening to you when I'm not there doesn't scare me shitless too?" he asked intently.
She exhaled and, under his hand that was still roaming her shoulders and back, he could feel her relax slightly. "It does? Does it really?" she asked interestedly.
"More than I can say." That was the literal truth. He could only express it through the meaning of the heartfelt tone of his voice, the emotion in his eyes, the pressure of his touch.
She relaxed a little more. "I'm so tired—I don't think I know what I'm doing or saying. I didn't mean to go off on you, Zach. Or scare you."
"I'm not in the habit of expressing fear," he admitted unnecessarily. "Words have power. I've always avoided giving it to them."
"No kidding! You—a clam? Since when?" Kendall exclaimed, adding more softly, "Come on, Zach—tell me something I don't know about you."
"I prefer not to worry you with my worries. But," he admitted again, "I've become resigned to the fact there is nothing you won't eventually pry out of me."
"Mmm." Kendall arched against his hand massaging the small of her back. "Just try and stop me."
Zach felt his lips curve up into a grin at her irrepressibility. "A challenge? You'll always win that one."
"It works both ways." Her gaze fixed on his then, growing more serious. "Why do you think I was stalling telling you what happened tonight?—because I knew it would worry you. And see how fast you got me to spill anyway?"
"A far lesser feat," he scoffed.
"Okay," she confessed, "You got me. Maybe I partially even kind of wanted you to be worried about me, Zach. After all I've been through it's good for my tattered ego to think I can make my big, strong, handsome, sexy fiancé lose at least a little sleep over me."
Zach took a moment to assimilate Kendall's nonchalantly delivered, but stirring to him, admission. "And he's waiting for you to spill what Lavery was an ass about and how you got home if your car was stuck."
Quickly Kendall replied, "Oh, just the same old crap about you from Ryan."
"But I have a feeling there's more," he prodded.
"Well…Ryan was making noises about Miranda's custody again," she told Zach unhappily.
"Lavery can't make anything but an empty threat. They already dropped their motion. If they reinstate it now Livia will be all over them." Of the latter point, Zach was certain. Of the rest, he was only disappointed in himself for not considering the real possibility the Laverys might try to pull a fast one on Kendall.
"I just can't think about it any more tonight, Zach. I'll scare myself."
"We'll talk to Livia in the morning and make sure Lavery's pissing in the wind," he replied reassuringly. "Okay?" His hands traveled back to her shoulders, with his thumbs on the muscles on either side of her neck. Slowly, he kneaded them and was gratified to feel their tautness diminish beneath the stimulus of his small circular motions.
"Ohh." Her head tipped back. "That…feels really nice. Ryan…Ryan who?"
"See? We'll keep working out the kinks. Don't lose any sleep over it."
"Sleep, Zach?" Kendall finally glanced at him from under her lashes. "Were we planning to get any sleep?"
"I'll do my best to make you sleepy. I expect to stay awake." His tone was both tender and rueful. The spirit was so willing but his flesh still weak—and sore—from surgery.
Signaling her pleasure in his continued stroking, Kendall closed her eyes again. "If you're sleepless, then I will be too. We could play—what's that game?—pinochle to pass the time."
"Cards with a professional gambler? That won't be entertaining for either for us," he pointed out.
"It might if you let me win a game once in awhile."
Zach's hands edged a little lower. "Do you think I can't entertain you better than that?"
Rousing herself to lean forward and bracing herself against his arms, Kendall brushed her lips along his cheek with the lightest of touches. "Of course," she whispered close to his ear, "it's just that it's more fun when we…hit the jackpot together. Mmm, way more fun."
"Of course," he echoed, his head turned so that his lips were almost touching hers, "but I'll still be in the game. So are you sure?"
"Well…," she hesitated, almost breathless just from the thought of what Zach was merely implying. It was that easy for her to be swayed to passion by him, and they both knew it. What woman in her right mind would continue to rebuff a man so finely attuned to her needs, so flatteringly eager to fulfill them, and so exceptionally good at it? It would be only a brief respite. Besides, what else, exactly, could be done to solve any of her problems tonight?
Turning her head so that her lips finally met Zach's, Kendall ensured her capitulatory kiss was inevitable. Molding the rest of her body against his as their lips joined, she yielded completely to the infinitely more enjoyable tension he evoked in her than the nerve-knotting kind she'd arrived home with. Grasping one of his caressing hands in one of hers, she moved it to a spot between her shoulder blades, above the pull-tab of her dress's zipper.
A moment later the clammy material slithered down over her slender form. Kendall reciprocated by pulling Zach's T-shirt up over his arms and head.
"Hey," he said, looking down in half-hearted protest when she was done, "this is supposed to be for you."
"And you are for me," she agreed provocatively, "all for me, Zach."
Although he tried to stay her hands when she plucked at his pants' drawstring, she was faster, loosening the waistband and pulling the pants down. But at the same time they joined the other clothes on the floor, Kendall realized a large gauze bandage was taped over each side of Zach's pelvic bone. Deep purplish bruising extended out from under the bandages' white edges.
As the reality of Zach's situation, of their situation, struck her with renewed force, she stepped back, sucking in her breath. "Oh, Jesus Christ, Zach. You look like you've been kicked by a mule. God, how stupid am I?" she moaned, clapping a hand to her forehead in consternation. "I never realized you'd be all—all beaten up like that."
"This? Beaten up?" He gave a short laugh. "Not even close."
She shook her head. "Bullshit, Zach! That looks awful—it must hurt."
"I'm on painkillers. And making you feel better will make me feel better, too. I want to be close to you."
"I want to be close to you too, but…." Feeling terribly conflicted, Kendall let her words trail off.
"Then do," he said simply.
"How much pain are you in right now?"
He shrugged. "There are different kinds of pain. This is the kind that doesn't matter."
"Oh, please. It matters to me if I hurt you, Zach! Wait a minute—are we really arguing about this?" she found herself asking in confusion.
"No argument, Kendall. Just come back here. Because sprinting after you—that might hurt." He flashed one of his infrequent grins.
"I'll try to be very careful." Kendall reapproached him, more solicitously than she was used to, and slid her arms up around his neck with a light touch. "If I'm not, you'll let me know."
Gazing down at her, Zach said, "That's too careful."
"Okay." She pressed closer. Lifting her face, she kissed him again. "How's that?"
In response his arms enveloped her, and he returned the kiss with a return of the passion she'd interrupted. At the same time she welcomed it, Kendall was still sensitive to the evidence of his recent ordeal and unable to shake her awareness of it. She was the one who concluded the kiss, staring expectantly up into his face, trying to gauge how he might react to her turning the tables on him.
"I know that look, Kendall. You're up to something," he accused lightly.
"Bingo, Zach. You see—there's been a change in plans," she announced with an impudent glint in her blue eyes. "Your macho protestations to the contrary, you're the real patient here, not I. Which means we're about to shift this scene into reverse. You're not going to take care of me—I'm going to take care of you."
She almost flushed at the look Zach stopped her with. "Save it for another time, Kendall. You've taken care of me long enough—"
"And I'm not finished!" she interrupted him determinedly. "Now listen to me. You need to take it easy. I want you to lie down on the bed and position yourself as comfortably you can. I've got some really nice almond-scented massage oil. I just need to warm it up a little."
Sounding amused, Zach said, "Sounds fragrant, but no, you don't. I've been taking it easy since I got to the hospital yesterday. However," he gave her nearly naked figure a smoldering once-over, "if the female Pine Valley Hospital personnel dressed like you I'd still be at the hospital."
Eying him back, Kendall responded insouciantly. "Oh, yeah? And if they got a peek at you the way you look now, they'd have kept you there but that would've been too bad for you, because not one of them can give you the treatment I plan to give to you."
Zach cocked his head to the side. "Do you know what, Kendall?"
Her heart began to pound harder. "No, what?"
"I love you."
She let herself bask in the glow of his unexpected words. "Well, I love you, Zach."
Again they kissed, a mutual, involuntary reaching toward each other. Kendall melted into him like a cat stretching toward its favorite spot in the sun, while Zach caressed her with growing abandon. "Your skin still feels chilled," he murmured.
"You're been heating me up, though. You're like a human furnace."
He smoothed her riotous curls away from her face. "Your hair's still damp."
"I thought I'd take a hot shower after I got home. After I had something to eat," she explained. "Somebody else seemed to have other ideas. But after the first part of my night—oh, Zach, this feels like heaven."
"Why not end this standoff with a shower now?" he suggested. "We're dressed for it."
"Can you? I mean with your bandages—is it okay to get them wet?"
"They can come off now. But remember," he paused, "what's under them isn't pretty."
Kendall bit her lip. "They're your war wounds in the fight for Miranda's life, Zach. I'll always remember that."
They exchanged a glance and he stroked her hair again.
"So shower, and then fix something to eat?" Kendall asked hopefully. "I am talking about actual food, Zach. Don't forget, I'm starving. I only had a cup of tea at Father Clarence's."
Zach frowned. "Where?"
"Oh—my car got stuck in the mud behind a church of all places, the Catholic church on the east side of town. I sort of already knew this priest there—Father Clarence. In fact, he knew Bianca too. He invited me in out of the rain. No," she amended, "he ordered me, is more like it. I felt as if I didn't have any choice."
"What kind of priest is that? I thought they preferred little boys," Zach said cynically.
"Zach!" Kendall smothered a horrified laugh. "No, this priest may be strange in his own way, but I've never picked up any pervert vibes from him."
"No? I still don't like the sound of it, Kendall. How did this priest know Bianca?" Zach probed.
"That's the weird thing about it. We each ended up at his chapel on Christmas Eve, only a year apart. For Bianca it was when she was pregnant and trying to decide whether to keep Miranda. For me it was the night before—before Bianca got Miranda back," Kendall remembered.
"Then I stand corrected. This priest has a predilection for women—Kane women, to be precise. Bianca, Miranda, and you, Kendall." Zach's voice sounded questioning.
"Whatever it is, he seems to feel entitled to interfere in my life," she sighed. "It's annoying, Zach, but he did help Bianca before. I do think he must be harmless. I simply wasn't in the mood to deal with him last night, not after getting it into it with Ryan."
"Ah. Lavery." Zach's tone was still full of disgust.
Kendall sighed again. "Yeah. But can we not talk about him now? Let's let him be known, until further notice, as Ryan who."
"All right, Kendall. No more talk of interfering priests or Laverys. This night is for you."
"And you," she said stubbornly. "We'll just see who wins this standoff."
Smiling, Zach asked, "Do you think there will be any losers?"