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He left, and Kaylie, a headache beginning to pound behind her eyes, decided to call it a day. She was tired of Alan and his schemes. How could he talk about the premiere of Obsession as if the entire horrifying experience were nothing more than a publicity stunt?
If only it had been….
But the memory was too vivid, the images too terrifying and real. Frowning darkly, trying not to dwell on the brutal image of that night, she shivered and told herself to shake off the lingering fears.
She didn’t see him, so much as feel his presence.
“Kaylie?” Zane’s voice drifted to her as if in a dream. Standing in the doorway, filling it with his broad shoulders and narrow hips, Zane was watching her. His hair was mussed, and Kaylie guessed he’d sprinted across the parking lot.
“Is something wrong?” His features were taut with concern.
“Oh—no, nothing.” She decided there was no reason to worry him just because Alan had mentioned the premiere of Obsession.
“Nothing?” He closed the door behind him and crossed the room. “Something’s bothering you,” he challenged, hook
ing one leg over the corner of her desk. “What happened?” Concern etched the lines of his face, and she thought guiltily that she should be thankful that he cared.
She couldn’t lie. “Well, for starters, Alan seems to think I should jump-start my movie career by agreeing to costar in Obsession II or whatever it may be called.”
Zane didn’t move.
“Never mind that there’s no script or director, yet.”
“You couldn’t—”
“And that was on top of a pretty bad week to begin with.”
“Bad?” he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Well, you see, I have this ex-husband, who has been ramrodding his way back into my life.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You probably know the type—pushy, arrogant, opinionated.”
“But handsome, sexy and intelligent.”
“That’s the one,” she said, her bad mood beginning to evaporate.
“And you don’t like him pushing you around, right?”
She avoided his eyes for a second and fingered the strand of pearls at her throat. “Well, the problem is, I do like him—a lot. More than I think I should. But I don’t appreciate him trying to dominate me. But he knows that—”
Zane reached across the desk and took her hand in his. “Kaylie, I love you.” The words hung in the air suspended by unseen emotional threads.
Her mouth went dry, and she had trouble finding her voice. As she stared into his eyes, she whispered, “Love isn’t based on possession, Zane, and you’ve tried to possess me for as long as I can remember.”
“Hey, Kaylie, about tomorrow’s show—” Alan said, opening the door without knocking. With one glance at Zane, he froze.
To Kaylie’s surprise, Zane actually smiled, releasing Kaylie’s hand and facing Alan. “Bently,” he drawled, as if seeing a long-lost friend. “I was just asking Kaylie if she’s seen the front page of The Insider.
“You what…?” Kaylie asked, feeling a cold lump form in her stomach. Alan licked his lips.
Zane reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and withdrew a folded piece of newsprint. He smoothed it on her desk, and she read the bold, two-inch-high headline: Lover’s Spat Forces Kaylie Off Morning Show.
“What is this?” she demanded, skimming the article that insinuated that she and Alan, still planning marriage, had been involved in an argument that sent her running away, seeking solace for her wounded heart. “This is absurd. I did no such thing!” she said, glaring first at Alan, then at Zane. “You’re the reason I left. You kidnapped me!”
“Kidnapped?” Alan repeated, his mouth falling open, his gaze moving from Kaylie to Zane and back again. “Wait a minute. Let me get this straight. He kidnapped you?”
Zane shot her a look that cut to the bone.
Alan lounged one shoulder against the wall. “Is that what you call persuading you to go to the mountains?”
