At the mention of his fated one, Eve tried to pull away.

Zachary wouldn’t let her. Didn’t want to let her go. “Uh-uh. I heard about your vision. It’s only fair you hear about mine.”

She gave an exasperated sigh. “I’ll listen. But could you please just move your arm while you talk?”

“I could. But I need to touch you. Want to touch you so bad, it’s like a physical compulsion.” He gave in to his desire and wound his hand through her locks, letting his fingertips brush over her scalp.

Ah. Better. Much better.

The muscles in her cheek twitched, as though she was having an internal debate, and finally, almost reluctantly, she settled back on the couch.

He tapped his fingers against her scalp in a slow, sensuous beat that he heard in his head. He seemed to hear a beat in his head whenever she stepped up close. A beat that tied his balls in knots and made his chest ache just a bit.

He enjoyed the way her hair feathered over his hand and wrist. Enjoyed just having her there, beside him. Enjoyed the music she inspired in him.

“It first happened when I was very young, about four or five,” Zachary told her.

She turned to face him, watching him while he spoke. Her blue eyes held him captive.

“It was the first time my grandmother sang me the lullaby. She took my hand, held it in hers, and explained the song she was about to sing was meant for my ears only. Said it would be our secret song.” The memory was clear, as though it had taken place yesterday. “Nothing happened until she began to sing. And then I felt these…I don’t know, chills running through my hand and up my arm.” He frowned. Kind of like the chills he’d felt when Eve had zoned out on him. “Before I knew it, I couldn’t see my grandmother anymore. She’d disappeared. Everything had disappeared. All I heard was her song.”

Zachary hummed the tune and sang the first two lines of the lullaby.

Eve caught her breath. Her eyes turned a shade darker, her pupils suddenly enormous. She stared at him, riveted, and let her head relax into his hand as though she’d given herself over to his touch, to the rhythm of his fingers against her skull.

Which was a good thing, because he couldn’t get enough of the feel of her.

“Nothing else happened…at first. And then there she was. The woman you saw. She just stood before me, smiling, laughing, as though she was having a wonderful time. Then she waved at me, beckoned me over…”

He blinked. God, she’d been so real. Was still real. Every time he imagined her, he heard the tinkle of her laughter.

“The vision lasted the length of the lullaby, and when my grandmother stopped singing and pulled her hand away, she was gone.”

Eve swallowed. “Have…” She stopped, cleared her throat and tried again. “Have you seen her since then? Had any other visions?”

“Whenever my grandmother sang the lullaby after that, I saw her face as clear as the first time. And if she was holding my hand while she sang, I felt the chills too. Now I don’t need to hear the song, I just see her in my mind.”

Eve closed her eyes, opened them again. She glanced at him then quickly looked away. “How did you feel? When you saw her that first time?”

Zachary concentrated, recalling what he’d experienced. “Confused. Surprised. I didn’t know what was happening.”

“That’s all?”

“At the time, yes. But over the years, I started to feel a whole barrage of emotions. Shock, bewilderment, longing, torment and then happiness.” A blaze of happiness. An all-consuming happiness, so intense it had burst through his chest like lightning. That’s when he’d known, sensed, that the woman was important. More than important. She was vital. She was—or would be—the one to make his life complete.

As a child he hadn’t stopped to question or analyze the knowledge or the experience. He’d simply accepted it, internalized it. He’d made it a part of himself.

From that day on, he’d lived with the certainty that one day he would meet her. One day she would become central to his life.

“Most of what I felt was too complex for my immature brain to process. But one thing I did understand was that she was mine. Or meant to be mine. Not then. Not when I was a child, but sometime down the line, further in my future.”

She chewed her lip some more, and even though the redhead occupied his thoughts, his body responded to Eve. Blood raced to his groin as desire struck him, bam, in the chest.

“She’s your destiny?”

“I believe so.”

Eve sighed. “You’re lucky. To know what’s in store for you. Who’s in store for you. My visions…they’re never about me. Only the person whose hand I’m holding.”

“I am lucky, I guess.” He shrugged. “I know she’s out there, somewhere. But it makes it tough to live in the present sometimes. Especially when I meet someone I…like. Someone who doesn’t have red hair or green eyes.”

Zachary searched her face as he spoke. He liked Eve. Very much. Liked her brown hair and blue eyes. And for now he didn’t want to think about his red-haired beauty. He wanted to live in the present. Enjoy the present. Enjoy Eve.

“Which leads me to ask, once again, why me, Zachary? Why single me out? Why—” Her voice hitched as he ran his hand from her hair, over her ear and down her cheek. Something flashed through her eyes.

Panic?

She twisted her head, freeing herself of his hand, and the panic abated, as though it had never been there. “Why look at me the way you’re looking at me now?”

Why? Because she both intrigued and worried him. Because she was either scared or scarred, and for a second there panicked too, and he wanted to know her better so he could ask about it. Maybe even comfort her.

But those weren’t the only reasons. Not by a long shot.

“Because I like you. I like the fact that you’re not scared to call me out when you think I’ve done something wrong, and I like how easily I can talk to you.” He liked it although it confounded him. As Jonah, he’d mastered the art of charming fans, but he always did it with a sense of aloofness. He never spoke about himself. He made the chatter about them, not about him.

With Eve, he couldn’t do that. Didn’t want to. With Eve he wanted to talk about himself and about her. He wanted it to get personal.

And still those weren’t all the reasons he stared at her like he did.

“Because, Eve Andrews, regardless of what my future may or may not have in store, I can’t deny that you turn me on. You make me think ridiculously horny thoughts about you and me.” Which made him think of something else he liked about her. “And I really appreciate that you’re not doing whatever you can to get me into bed.”

She harrumphed and muttered under her breath, “Just because I’m not doing it doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about it.”

Bam.

Jesus, this woman was like one punch after the next.

Here he sat, talking about his future, the woman he saw himself spending his life with, and all he could think about was getting closer to Eve, touching her way more intimately than a mere hand through her hair.

He wanted her naked and panting beneath him. And on top of him.

He grinned. Couldn’t help it. “You wanna get me into bed, Tiny?”

She closed her eyes and dropped her head against the back of the couch. Her nipples pebbled beneath her T-shirt, temptation personified. “More than I want my next breath. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna act on it.”

Funny. He’d used that exact expression just minutes ago. He forced his gaze from her chest to her face. “Even if I ask nicely?” Or beg. Loudly.

Zachary’s cock already stood at half-mast. If he did ask nicely—or beg loudly—Eve would have no trouble spotting his predicament the second she chose to open her eyes again.

“Back off, Pace. You have a woman in your life.”

“Not yet, I don’t. And I’m not saving myself for her. That would be impractical and probably very, very lonely.” Who knew how long he’d have to wait. He could be an old man by the time he met her.

She opened one eye, looking at him accusingly through it. “Well don’t expect me to go filling the void until she comes along.”

Somehow he doubted spending time with Eve would ever count as just filling a void. “Ya know, there are no cameras around us now. If I kissed you, no one would ever know. You wouldn’t have to poke me in the eye.” Fuck, he wanted to kiss her again. Wanted it so bad he could taste the chocolate on his tongue.

“I’d know. And so would you.”

Of course he’d know. He wanted to know. He turned his whole body toward her, not so subtly trying to get closer. “So you’re not feeling that buzz?” He whispered the question, although he hadn’t meant to. The electricity that seemed to zap around them, like tiny prickles of excitement on his skin, must have affected his vocal abilities too. “You don’t want to kiss me now?

She looked away, her gaze resting on her arms—which were covered in goose bumps, just like his. “I never said that.” Her words brought his gaze to her lips. To those cherry-red lips, just asking to be kissed. “But that’s irrelev—”

Zachary didn’t give her a chance to finish. Couldn’t.

He pounced.

One second Eve sat beside him, avoiding his gaze, the next she lay on her back—pinned to the couch by one very aroused man—staring at him with wide eyes.

“What are you—”

Zachary kissed her. Took her mouth with his and swallowed the rest of her words. He swallowed her surprised yelp too. A rational thought, buried somewhere deep in his mind, tried to make itself known. Tried to warn him that if he didn’t back off soon, he’d find himself in deep waters with Eve Andrews. Too deep for him to swim back out of.

But he couldn’t focus on it, couldn’t listen.

Not when Eve’s surprise turned into hunger. Not when her mouth responded with a fervor similar to his own. Not when she parted her lips and let his tongue in, let him explore and taste.

And definitely not when she moaned softly beneath him and her hand crept over his shoulder to grasp his neck, holding him to her.

Blood emptied into his groin. He was hard as a fucking rock. His erection pushed against her leg, reminding him all over again how tiny she was. How fragile. Like a porcelain doll beneath him. Never mind her mouth, he could crush her with his body.

But that didn’t seem to faze her. Didn’t seem to stop her from pulling him closer, from bending one knee and slipping her foot around his thigh, twining her leg with his.

Fearing he might injure her with his bulk, Zachary pushed up, holding his upper body weight on his lower arms. But, damn it, he couldn’t move off her altogether. Couldn’t break contact. He rocked over her, against her, arching his back so he could rock his erection over her pussy.

Fuck. If that didn’t clear his lungs of oxygen and his head of thought…

Eve twined her other arm around his shoulder and used him shamelessly to lift herself up, press her body against his.

She rocked in time with him, gripped his leg tighter with hers.

Her breasts grazed his chest. Those pert breasts he’d admired earlier, and damned if he didn’t wish their shirts away. Didn’t wish it was her naked flesh tantalizing his.

And then Eve groaned, louder this time, a groan vibrating with frustration. She pulled her mouth away and dropped back onto the couch, breaking contact.

She swore under her breath as she slipped her arms from around his neck and her foot off his leg.

He chased her mouth, intent on possessing it again, possessing her. All of her. He’d imagined her naked chest against his, and God help him, he wanted it. Wanted her, naked. Beneath him. Or on top of him. Both. First one then the other.

But she stopped him. Placed her hand on his chest and halted his descent.

“Door,” she whispered, her voice a husky murmur.

“Huh?” Her lips were full, red, and so damn tempting he wanted to pull that lower one into his mouth and suck on it.

“Someone…at…door.”

It took him a good few seconds to comprehend her meaning. Impossible to think when his head was so full of her. When her floral scent baffled his senses and her chocolaty taste filled his mouth. Impossible to focus on anything but the feel of her all wrapped around him.

“Food,” she said. “Room service?”

Ah. Right. Of course. Room service.

Reluctantly Zachary pushed himself off the couch.

He ran a hand over his swollen lips and took several breaths, not at all calmed by the fresh oxygen. His balls were tight knots and his dick an aching rod squashed by his jeans. “This…” He lifted a finger in the air and motioned between the two of them. “This is not over. Not by a long shot.”