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Jason scowled into his empty glass.
Trisha clapped her hands as if she were at a theater production. “Well, if that wasn’t an all-time low in the history of videotaping! Did you really think we’d believe that schmaltzy story?”
“I don’t know,” Adria said huskily and her eyes shone a little brighter than they had before. “But it’s the truth.”
Zach told himself that this was all part of an elaborate con, that the man in the video was probably an actor, or her father trying to run a scam on the wealthy Danvers family.
“The truth. Sure it is,” Trisha said, unable or unwilling to hide her sarcasm.
Jason pressed the “eject” button and pulled the video cartridge from the machine. “This is your ‘proof’?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
Adria nodded and the quiet rage drawing Jason’s features into a knot of anxiety seemed to fade. “Well, Miss Nash, it’s not much is it?”
“What it is, Jason, is a start,” she replied, standing and slipping into her shoes. “You don’t have to believe me. God knows I didn’t expect you to, but take this as a warning. I’m going to find out who I really am. If I’m not London Danvers, trust me, I’ll walk. But if I am,” she said, her small chin thrust in determination, “I’ll fight you and every lawyer you sic on me to prove it.” She grabbed her purse and slung her coat over her arm. “It’s late and I know you have a lot to discuss, so I’ll just call a cab and—”
“I’ll drive you,” Zachary said, unwilling to let her leave just yet, though why, he couldn’t say. He was better off without her, but there was a part of him that was intrigued by her story. Who was she really?
“Don’t bother.”
“I want to.”
“It’s not necessary.”
“Sure it is.” He caught a speculative glance from Trisha and a harder-edged, more pointed glare from Jason. “Danvers hospitality,” he drawled.
“Look, Zach, don’t do me any favors, okay?” She started out of the room and he caught her by the elbow.
“I thought you said you needed a friend.” His fingers clamped over her arm and she felt his breath, warm and smelling faintly of Scotch, brushing the nape of her neck.
She reminded herself that this was the man like her, the man who had no past if the family portraits could be believed. “Maybe I changed my mind,” she said, and her voice sounded ragged.
“Wouldn’t be wise, lady. Looks like you need all the friends you can get.”
Hesitating a heartbeat, she glanced over his shoulder to the rest of the Danvers family. Her family. Or was it? In a show of independence, she yanked back her arm and stepped away from him. “Thanks, anyway.”
Obviously, Zach wasn’t about to let her make a fool of him. He followed her out of the den and through the kitchen where she reached for the phone and he deftly plucked the receiver out of her fingers. “I’d think you’d jump at the chance to be alone with me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
His lips twisted into a self-deprecating grin. “No, I mean, to get more information on the family. That is what you want, isn’t it?”
A little wrinkle of contention formed between her eyebrows. “Whose side are you on?”
“No sides,” he said, opening the back door. The night seeped into the room. “I only look out for myself.” A solitary man. A man who needed no one. Or so he wanted her to believe.
“Humble of you.”
“I didn’t think you were looking for humility—just the truth.”
“I am.”
His expression was hard and unyielding. “Then you may as well know that I really don’t give a damn about the family or the money.”
“But you do care about the ranch,” she said, slipping her coat over her shoulders.
