Getting Lucky

Chapter 22

ZACH GAZED BLURRILY AT THE FLASHES OF lightning outside the airplane window. His eyes felt gritty with fatigue, while his body ached from sitting. Glynnie slumped astride his lap, her arms limp at her sides and her head heavy on his chest. Every now and then a tiny snore rumbled out of her throat. She stank to high heaven, but since he wasn't about to risk waking her up to change her diaper he ignored it. They'd been traveling for thirty four hours straight, with five stops and four plane changes, and she'd been awake and increasingly cranky for most of them. She'd howled nonstop during the layover in Atlanta, and by the time she'd finally dozed off on this last leg of the journey he'd been pretty tempted to put his head down and do some serious bawling himself.

But he'd been charged with being a man and taking care of his sister, so he fought back the urge. Now, momentarily free of the need to be constantly vigilant, the desire to give in to his emotions suddenly roared back with a vengeance. Gritting his teeth, he blinked rapidly and stared out into the storm buffeting the plane.

Yet he couldn't seem to turn off his mind. Or stop wondering what was so wrong with him that his own parents didn't want him. In every village they'd lived in over the years, he'd seen evidence of the affection the various tribes held for their children. It was in the elders' voices and in their eyes. It was in even the most casual of their touches. Why didn't his parents ever tousle his hair as they walked by? Why had Father never swung him up onto his back? Or Mother rarely hugged him to her side ?

Resting his cheek against the porthole glass, he decided that there must be something wrong with him. And now here he was, being shipped to the total strangers that were his grandparents, to another continent where he wouldn't even have the survival skills he'd had on the veldt.

But he'd learn. He straightened in his seat. He wouldn't rest until he knew this strange new place as well as he knew the high plains of Africa. Staring out into the storm, he clenched his jaw tignt and vowed that while he couldn't control the actions of others or the way they viewed him, he did have power over two things. He could and would watch over Glynnie until he was certain she'd be all right. And he could take care of himself. As for his grandparents— well, the hell with them. He was done worrying whether they'd like him or not. From this moment on, he was through caring how anyone felt about him, through craving the things he couldn't have—like love .

Screw it. He didn't need anybody.

Zach came awake with a start, frowning as he stared at the shadowy outlines of the furniture across the room. Shit . What was it with all this dreaming lately? He nipped over in irritation, only to bump up against Lily's lushly rounded butt. She murmured a protest, but promptly wiggled close to spoon her back against his front, and he wrapped an arm around her waist. Burying his face in her hair, he breathed in her scent.

It was strangely soothing—if you were into that sort of thing, which he wasn't. It never paid to get too involved, and clearly this sudden spate of dreams was a wake-up call, a reminder of the hollowness he'd felt for too many years as a youth. They were a warning that he could easily feel that way again if he let things get out of hand with the curvy little blonde nestled against him.

The dread of losing his sister had forged a quick intimacy with Lily similar to what he'd experienced as a soldier in combat situations. Now that Glynnis's kidnapping had turned out to be a false alarm, he felt almost giddy with relief. But that didn't mean he should jump into a more serious involvement with Lily. She was every bit the keeper Coop had called her. Zach just wouldn't be the one keeping her. She deserved better than to be short-changed that way. Love, at least of the romantic variety, had never been part of his makeup.

The only bonds he'd ever had that lasted beyond a week or two were with Glynnie and the Corp. And face it, except for Coop and lohn, even his brothers in arms had come and gone in his life. He simply didn't possess the stuff tight relationships were made of.

But when Lily uttered a little hum of contentment in her sleep, Zach's arm automatically tightened around her waist and he snugged her a little closer. He blew out an impatient breath. Aw, hell. Why was he inventing problems where none existed?

So he didn't have a knack for relationships. Big deal—not all things were intended for all people. But that didn't mean he wasn't entitled to a little fling. He and Lily were adults; they knew the score. The two of them shared an eyes-wide-open, you-scratch-my-itch-and-I'll-scratch-yours type of arrangement. The fact it wasn't permanent was tacitly understood.

That wasn't to say he didn't care about her, though. Because he did—to his amazement, he realized he cared quite a bit. Somehow, of all the crazy, unlikely things, they'd ended up friends. But that's all they were, a couple of good friends looking to have a little fun while they could.

Having settled that to his satisfaction, he wrapped himself more tightly around Lily and sighed with the contentment of having her in his arms. Then, letting go of everything else, he allowed sleep to suck him back into its depths.

Things would work out fine, he thought hazily just before he drifted off. The only way matters could possibly get screwed up between them was if one of them were to go and do something stupid like fall in love.

And that wasn't likely to happen. He wouldn't let it. Should their relationship ever show signs of getting too serious, he'd do what was best for both of them and cut it off. And hell, chances were, if he wasn't quick enough to do it himself, Lily would do it for him.

Because if there was one thing he could count on, it was that practical, levelheaded Lily would never go all foolish and romantic on him.