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“Whom?” he asked.
“Jim maybe—or Alan. Not Margot since she’s in cahoots with you.”
“And what would Alan have done?”
“Rescued me!”
“Ha!” He barked out a laugh and twisted hard on the wheel. “So now you want to be rescued?”
“No, I just want my life back,” she said, staring out the window and watching the wipers slap away the rain.
“A life without me.”
She drew in a steadying breath and tried to lie, but couldn’t. The words stuck in her throat. She didn’t want him completely out of her life—not anymore. And that was the problem. There was no letting Zane in a little bit. With him it was all or nothing. “All” meant giving up her hard-fought independence. “Nothing” meant never seeing him again. Her heart squeezed painfully at the thought. These past few days had been exhilarating and romantic, and her life back in the city seemed colorless in comparison.
“I thought Alan didn’t mean anything to you.”
“He’s a friend. A co-worker and a friend.”
He snorted and fiddled with the heater as the windows began to fog. “So what about us?”
“I don’t know what to do about us,” she admitted, her emotions as raw as the dark night. “Part of me would like to see you burn in hell for what you’ve put me through.”
“And the other part?”
She slid him a glance. “The other part tells me you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Zane drew a slow breath, then smiled painfully. “I definitely think you should listen to part two.”
“How can I,” she asked, turning to face him, “when all you’ve done since you showed up at my house is bully me into doing things your way?”
The honesty in her eyes cut deep into his soul. He knew that he’d gone too far. But now there was no turning back. He’d considered letting her leave, pretending not to hear her sneak out of the house and into the barn. But what then? Let her show up in San Francisco with his horse and never see her again? The thought was unbearable. “I’ll let you go, Kaylie,” he promised, forcing the words through his teeth. “Once I’m assured that you’ll be safe.” He swallowed with difficulty and almost tripped over the lie. “That’s all I really want for you.”
As the rain stopped, he turned off the wipers and checked the side mirror. His Majesty was tiring. “I think we’d better pull over for a little while,” he said, frowning. “Give the old guy a break. He’s had a hard night.”
“Haven’t we all?” she said, but climbed out of the Jeep when it slowed to a halt. Both she and Zane checked the horse, who was sweating and starting to lather. Zane walked him slowly for a while, until the stallion’s heavy breathing returned to normal. Zane slanted a glance at Kaylie, and his gut twisted.
She caught his gaze, and her lips moved a little—so seductive and innocently erotic. He wondered how much more of this self-induced torment he could stand.
Time seemed to stand still as they stood, not touching, gazes locked, the earthy, rain-washed forest surrounding them.
“We’d better get going,” he said, his voice gruff.
She glanced away, breaking the spell. Nodding, she replied, “I’ll lead His Majesty.”
Zane didn’t argue. Once she was safely inside the Jeep, he handed her the reins, then climbed behind
the wheel. The rest of the ride was tense and excruciatingly slow. Several times his fingers, gripping the gearshift, brushed against her knee, and she looked sharply up at him, but there weren’t accusations in her gaze. If anything, there was an unspoken invitation.
Zane’s fingers tightened over the wheel, and he thought he’d go out of his mind battling the urge to stop, take her into his arms and make love to her right then and there!
Finally, after agonizing minutes, he steered the vehicle around the final corner, and the log house loomed in the darkness ahead.
“I’ll take care of the horse,” he said as he parked the rig and looked long and hard at Kaylie. “And you should take a hot bath, drink something warm and then find the heaviest nightgown in the closet and wrap yourself up in about a thousand blankets.” She reached for the door, and he couldn’t let her escape. He grabbed her and pulled. She fell against him. As she did, he covered her mouth with his, pressing hard, insistent lips to hers and surrendering to the emotions that had warred with him ever since he’d seen her walking out of the water on the beach in Carmel.
His blood thundered, his body burned, and all those vows he’d sworn to himself—vows to stay away from her until she was ready—vanished.
She seemed to melt against him, her supple lips responding, a quiet moan escaping her throat. “Why?” he rasped, when he finally lifted his head from hers. “Why do you continue to fight me?”
