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“Yes,” she agreed, her thoughts whirling as they left the city. “Someone did.” Who? Someone from the Danvers family? Anthony Polidori? The stalker who had left her the ugly notes? Someone who had overheard one of her conversations? Trisha? Jason? Nelson? Zach? A headache thundered behind her eyes and she realized that other than some dark, bitter sludge the police department called coffee, she hadn’t had anything to eat all day.
“You’ll have to check out of the Orion.”
“I know.”
>
“You have another place to stay?”
“Not yet.”
“Jason thinks you should move to the ranch.”
“With you?” she asked.
“I suppose.”
The Jeep’s interior seemed suddenly close, the atmosphere thick as she considered what life would be like living far removed from the city—with Zachary. How would she stand every day cooped up with him? She glanced at his profile. Her heart began to beat more loudly. Of course, she couldn’t accept his proposal—she had work to do, here in the Willamette Valley. This was just another ploy by the family to derail her from her goal. “I don’t care what Jason thinks.”
“It wouldn’t be a bad idea. You’d be safe.”
Alone with Zachary Danvers? Safe? She didn’t believe it for a minute. Zachary was dangerous on too many levels to count. She was never safe with him. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she said, touching the inside of the passenger window with her finger and erasing the dew that had collected on the glass. “Then I’d be trapped in a place where the family could watch me, tape my phone conversations, and monitor me twenty-four hours a day. Thanks, but I don’t think so.”
He eased off the freeway and found a truck stop. A diner with a flickering neon sign that advertised breakfast was served around the clock was set back from the road. Zach parked close to the front door. “Come on, let’s eat something and then you can decide.” He reached across her and opened the door on her side of the Jeep. The feel of his body, warm and hard, leaning over her thighs had a definite effect on her pulse rate. Stop it!
As if he felt it, too, his gaze found hers and for a ridiculous heartbeat she thought he might kiss her again. His eyes darkened for a second, searching hers, and his breath fanned her face. He smelled of leather and coffee and musky male and his jaw was nearly black because he hadn’t shaved.
Earthy and raw.
Primal and wanton.
Passionate and wicked.
Zachary Danvers was all these and more. She licked her dry lips and held her breath. Waiting…sensing he could read her thoughts. “What the hell am I going to do with you?”
“I’m not your responsibility.”
“Aren’t you?” One dark brow lifted.
Her spine stiffened in defense. “Look, Zach, I guess I should thank you for helping me out today, but I don’t really need a baby-sitter.”
“You might be surprised.” He sent her a smile that cut past all her facades. Pure male animal. He hopped to the gravel and she had to scramble out of the Jeep and hurry to catch up with him.
She wanted to tell him to get lost and leave her alone, but she couldn’t. He’d been nearby when she’d needed him and when she’d decided to hold the press conference, he hadn’t argued with her, even helped her pick the spot and stayed with her throughout the entire, nerve-fraying ordeal. She didn’t know his motives, but she doubted they were pure. She’d just been thankful to have his strength, his presence during the press conference, though she was certain she could have handled the situation herself and she believed that he was probably sticking to her like glue in order to spy on her for his family. But why then did he insist she go to the police station with her complaints? Maybe he had no choice and felt backed into a corner since the word was out on the street that another woman claiming to be the little lost daughter of Witt Danvers had shown up in Portland.
They walked into the diner. Country music could be heard over the buzz of conversation and sizzle of the grill. They sat in a booth near the window.
Within seconds, a waitress poured coffee and promised to be back for their orders. Adria picked up her menu and tried to concentrate on the daily special, but having Zachary seated directly across from her was a distraction—the kind of distraction she didn’t want.
Once they’d ordered, Zach drained his coffee and settled onto the small of his back. “You’d better tell me what you’re planning, Adria,” he said, staring at her with eyes that seemed to see into the darkest corners of her soul, “because from here on in, it’s not gonna be much fun.”
“And that’s why I’m here. To uncover the truth. To find out if I’m really Witt and Katherine Danvers’s daughter…” Her voice was clear. Strong. Her chin thrust forward as if she wouldn’t back down.
Hell!
In a private room, Katherine’s killer stared at the television screen with its flickering images of Adria Nash.
Why didn’t she back off? Why in the world would she actually call a press conference? Now all of Portland—no, make that all of the whole damned country—was watching!
