So she sank down beside him, kicked off her boots, and folded her legs beneath her. Then she sat back against the soft cushions and scrutinized his expression until he raised one eyebrow.
“Trying to work out what makes you tick,” she said. “You know, I really thought you weren’t taking this seriously. The threat, I mean.”
“I wouldn’t be holed up hiding if I didn’t take it seriously—the fuckers nearly blew me up. So what’s your point?”
“Coming through the airport—you looked…” She trailed off.
“Shit-scared?” He considered her, his head cocked to one side, and she had the impression he was deciding what to say. “I was. Fucking terrified you were going to get hurt keeping me safe.”
Shock jolted her in the gut. She hadn’t expected that. She stared at him, then pursed her lips. “You weren’t worried about Gary?”
“Hell no.”
“Just me? You still don’t think I’m capable of protecting you because I’m a woman?”
“Again—hell no. I think you’re capable, I just don’t like it.” He must have caught something in her expression because he grinned. “Hey, I never said it was logical. All the time I could sense you behind me, and I wanted to turn around and grab you and…” He shrugged.
“That’s Neanderthal.”
“I know. And unexpected. Would you really take a bullet for me?”
She didn’t even think of her answer. “Of course.”
“So my life is more valuable than yours?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because it’s my duty—it’s what I signed up to do.”
He opened his mouth then snapped it closed again. “I need that drink.” He pressed the button on the arm of the sofa, and almost instantly, the door opened and the flight attendant appeared. Zach murmured to her, and she disappeared.
A minute later, she came back with a tray holding a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket and two glasses. “Should I bring the coffee now?” she asked with a professional smile.
“Later,” Zach replied. “I’ll call when we’re ready.”
Dani studied the champagne then glanced at him. “It’s six in the morning.”
“Yeah, but as you said, when will you get the chance to do this again? And you’re off duty now. Relax. I suspect the rest of the day is going to be a little fraught.”
She could have said more. She thought about it briefly, then accepted the glass he held out to her. He was right. This was once in a lifetime.
“I’ve never drunk champagne before,” she said, staring at the fluted glass and watching the bubbles rise to the surface and burst.
“Another first then,” he murmured, a wicked glint in his eyes.
An image flashed in her mind of that other first, and she could almost feel his hard body on her. In her. She shook her head to dispel the image and found him watching her with that lazy smile on his face, as though he knew exactly what was going through her mind.
He raised his glass. “To firsts. May there be many more between us.”
What did that mean? But instead of dwelling on it, she raised the glass, clinked with his, and took a huge swallow. The wine was a delicious combination of sharp and mellow, and the bubbles tingled in her mouth. She drained the glass, held it out for a refill, then caught his expression. “What?”
“Perhaps you should go a little slower this time if you’re not used to alcohol.” He poured the champagne but stopped a long way from the rim of the glass. She peered at it, then shot him a dark look, so he relented and topped it off.
She grinned. “I said I’ve never drank champagne, not that I never drank. I can drink most men twice my size under the table.”
But actually, she could already feel the buzz of alcohol in her blood, and she realized that apart from the occasional cold beer, she hadn’t drunk since the accident. She took another sip and put the glass on the table. Resting her head back, she closed her eyes, analyzed how she felt.
Good.
A hundred times better than she had when she’d flown into Spain a few weeks ago. Her thigh ached a little from being cooped up on the drive to the airport, but it was merely a dull throb. She turned in her seat and stretched her legs out along the cushions. The sofa was long, and her legs weren’t, so it still left a good few inches between her toes and Zach, where he lounged at the opposite end. But he shifted slightly, lifted her feet, and rested them on his thighs.
She stared for a moment, but when he didn’t do anything else, she forced herself to relax. “Friends?” she said.
He nodded. “Friends.”
She picked up her glass, closed her eyes, and released her breath in a huge sigh. Hell, what did she know about how friends behaved? This was probably perfectly normal, but she kept her feet still and sipped her drink.
The silence was almost companionable, no doubt lulling her into a false sense of security. After finishing the champagne, she put her glass down and leaned back. She was almost asleep when a hand started to massage her feet. He stroked the instep, and her toes curled.
“You ticklish?”
“No,” she murmured.
His fingers inched inside her pants leg and stroked her ankle. She should protest but the sensation was more soothing than stimulating and besides—it felt so good.
The pants were loose and he slid his hand farther up her leg, cupped the back of her calf, and squeezed, then trailed along the sensitive skin at the back of her knees. She felt a little twinge of unease; she couldn’t classify that feeling as soothing. Tingles of pleasure ran up her legs to settle between her thighs. She had an urge to clench her knees together to intensify the sensation but resisted, not wanting to move and give away what she was feeling.
Peeking through her lashes, she found Zach’s eyes closed, his face expressionless. He stroked lazy circles on her skin and she shifted. His eyes blinked open, his head turned slightly, and his lips curved up in a slow smile.
Dani forced her mind to work. “Er, friends…?”
“This isn’t friendly?”
She didn’t know. It didn’t feel friendly. It felt… Actually, it felt good. “Maybe too friendly.”
“Killjoy. You have lovely skin. Soft.” But he gave her calf a last squeeze and withdrew his hand. He rested it on her knee. “How’s your leg?”
“Fine.”
“You just saying that?”