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She clamped her hands over the rail and, without looking in his direction, shouted, “What’s wrong with you?”
Zane leaned against the fender of a car as she pressed her nails into the painted railing and stared at the rippling blue waters reflecting against a clear, cerulean sky.
Gulls floated on the air currents near the docks, while sailboats and fishing trawlers skimmed across the horizon. Kaylie barely noticed, her concentration centered solely on Zane.
“Well?” she demanded, wanting to shake him.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Like hell! You’ve changed, Zane!”
“I’m just here to do a job.”
“You care about me!”
“You’re my client. My responsibility.”
She flew at him. Emotionally strung out, she raised her fists as if to pummel his chest, but he captured her wrists and pinned them together over her head before she had a chance to strike. So close she could see her own reflection in his sunglasses, she felt helpless and tired. Tears welled in her eyes and she crumpled against him. “There’s more—we both know it. Tell me there’s more,” she pleaded, her throat closing against the pain of his rejection.
“There can’t be.” But the corners of his lips turned down, and she knew he was fighting his own ragged emotions.
“I love you.”
“Kaylie, no!” But his face was pained, and he sighed loudly…sadly. “God, help us,” he whispered, releasing her and shoving one hand through his wind-ruffled hair. Looking toward the heavens, he swore. Was he angry? At her? Or himself?
“I do love you, damn it, and I always will.” Sobs choked her. “I love you, Zane. Please, just love me back.”
“It won’t work.”
“We’ll make it work!” she cried, reaching up and lifting his sunglasses to see the agony in his eyes.
With a moan, he wrapped his arms around her and dropped his mouth on hers in a kiss that nearly strangled her with promised passion.
She closed her eyes to the storm of desire overtaking her. He did care! He did!
When he raised his head, she saw the torment on his face. “This can’t happen. We can’t let it.”
But she kissed him again and again. Only when she knew the director would send someone looking for her did she pull back.
That night she expected Zane to come to her. She lay on her bed, wearing a soft pink nightgown, trembling at the thought of what she intended.
She watched the clock as the hours passed. Ten. Eleven. Midnight. Still the light beneath his door shone. At twelve-thirty, she could wait no longer and knocked softly. “Zane?”
The door opened. He stuck his head into her room. “What?”
She swallowed hard. Though she’d played the role before, she’d never seduced a man, never been in bed with a man. “I—I uh, thought, you might like to come in….” Oh, Lord, why did her voice sound so high-pitched and trembling—like a child’s?
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then let’s just leave it, Kaylie,” he said, his voice as rough as sandpaper.
“I can’t.”
“Go to sleep.” He shut the door firmly, and she wanted to die of embarrassment.
She couldn’t sleep that night, nor the next. She was a failure at rehearsals, and the director, running behind schedule, was in a foul mood.
