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He sent her a wry smile. ‘I may be a guy, but lifting the hood is about as far as my knowledge of auto repairs goes.’ The self-deprecating remark had her smiling back at him, despite her despair. She had to give him points for not seizing the opportunity to rub her nose in it. Although, as she watched the radiator cap steam, she wasn’t sure that was all that much comfort.
‘Do you have breakdown cover?’ he asked.
‘Not any more.’ She’d cut her cover a week ago, along with all the other items in her account she’d deemed ‘non-essential’ expenditure. She’d figured she could always take the bus or the cable car if need be. Unfortunately, they didn’t have cable cars out on Highway One. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said, letting the dream of moving into Nate’s beautiful estate die a short but painful death. ‘I can catch a cab back today. I don’t suppose there’s much point in me seeing the cottage now though.’
Unhooking the hood, he let it crash down, making her jump. ‘Why not?’
‘I can’t very well stay all the way out here without reliable transportation.’
Nate studied the weary look in her eyes...and wished to hell he could solve this problem the easy way—by waving the magic money wand and getting a new car shipped up here this afternoon. But he could see the determined tilt of her chin, and knew she’d hitchhike back to the city before she’d accept the gift.
‘Not necessarily.’ Thinking fast, he tugged his smart phone out of his back pocket and flicked through the directory to Zane’s number. ‘I can’t fix the car, but I may know a guy who can.’
Zane might know all there was to know about cars, but he wasn’t a miracle worker. And Nate had a feeling Tess’s car would need more than a miracle. But Zane had more charm than he knew what to do with, and Nate couldn’t think of a better man to stall Tess while he came up with the best way to finesse her into accepting a new car.
‘Really?’ She sounded so grateful for the lifeline, he persuaded himself the white lie was justified. She needed transportation. And he could afford it. Figuring out a way to get her to accept the obvious solution was all that mattered.
He wanted her living in the cottage, so he could look out for her. It didn’t bother him too much that he’d never wanted to look out for any woman before her.
It had to be a result of her pregnancy and the fallout from his own childhood that made him feel responsible for her—and had nothing at all to do with the need that had shot through his system when her gaze had roamed over his chest and then dipped down to the front of his shorts after he’d got out of the pool.
Thanks to the freezing cold swim, he’d kept himself under control long enough to get back to the pool house without causing himself an injury—or letting Tess know the full extent of the effect she had on him.
He’d never wanted a woman this much before—probably because he’d never known one whose naked yearning had matched his own. But that didn’t mean he planned to give in to the urge. He’d discovered as a teenager that the more you wanted something, the less good it did you.
He tapped the call button and listened to Zane’s phone buzz in his ear as Tess watched him expectantly, her eyes wide with hope. Damp tendrils of hair stuck to the slim column of her neck in the heat while her small white teeth dug into her bottom lip. She looked exhausted and worried—all the belligerence of their meeting in Walter’s office yesterday having melted away in the heat. He let his gaze glide down to her flat stomach, wondering if the effects of the pregnancy might be starting to bite. His chest tightened at the thought—the protective instinct both novel and confusing.
Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she needed his help. And she was going to get it.
Once Zane arrived, he’d figure out how to finesse her into accepting a new car. Zane could help with that—the man was a master at getting women to do what he wanted. For once it was a quality Nate might actually find useful—instead of annoying.
‘Kemosabe, what’s the deal?’ came Zane’s familiar greeting.
‘Hey, Zane. Any chance you could cruise down to San Revelle this afternoon, take a look at a dead engine?’
The sound of background music muted and Zane’s stunned voice came back on the line. ‘The Jeep croaked? No way. It’s less than a year old. That’s the most reliable model in—’
‘Not the Jeep,’ he cut in before his friend died of shock. ‘It’s Tess’s car.’
‘Tess?’ Zane’s puzzled reply was swiftly followed by a low chuckle. ‘Not Tess the British girl you did in a closet?’
‘No, Tess, the mother of my child,’ he countered, holding onto his temper with an effort. It was only as the statement echoed down the phone into silence that he realised what he’d said—and the possessive way in which he’d said it.
‘So I take it you got the proof you wanted?’ came Zane’s sober reply.
No, he hadn’t. Why didn’t that seem to matter any more?
‘Can you come or not?’ Nate replied, not wanting to have this conversation in front of Tess.
There was another long pause, before Zane replied, ‘Sure, I’m near Daly City, shouldn’t take me more than thirty.’
Nate felt an unpleasant tickle in the back of his throat at the eagerness in Zane’s voice.
‘This is one lady I want to meet,’ his friend added.
Nate coughed, the unpleasant tickle firing up the back of his neck. ‘Actually, Zane, forget it, you don’t need to...’ But before he could finish, he was listening to a dial tone.
‘Can he come?’ Tess asked.
