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Standing apart from the main buildings, its shape barely visible in the clinging fog, was the sagging skeleton of an old weather-beaten barn, the one structure on the farm that was in sharp contrast to the rest of the modern facilities. The old relic was out of sync with the times. Why had Ellery kept it?
Tiffany watched Zane with new fear taking hold of her heart. What was he saying? Did he really believe that Ellery could still be alive after all these years?
Her voice was suddenly hoarse and she was forced to clear her throat. “Look . . .”
He continued to stare at the rain-washed countryside.
“If you think that Ellery is alive, I want to know about it and I want to know now. This minute. No more stalls.”
Zane lifted his hands dismissively. “I don’t really know. The only thing I’m certain about is the horse.”
“But you said—”
He whirled to face her, his burning hatred resurfacing in his eyes. “What I said was that I don’t know what happened to your husband, but I wouldn’t rule out the possibility that he could very well be alive and hiding out somewhere.”
Tiffany’s dark brows drew together, and she shook her head as if she could physically deny the doubts and fears beginning to plague her. “That doesn’t make any sense!”
Zane’s scathing eyes slowly traveled up her body to rest on her troubled face. He shook his head as if he couldn’t begin to understand what was happening between himself and Ellery Rhodes’s wife. “If your husband did leave you, then he’s not only a crooked bastard, he’s crazy to boot.”
“You didn’t much like him, did you?”
“I didn’t like him at all.” Zane uttered the words without any trace of emotion, as if he were simply stating a fact. He noticed the worry clouding her gaze, the weariness in the slump of her shoulders, and he silently wondered how such a beautiful woman could have linked up with the likes of Ellery Rhodes. Stasia’s passion for money was understandable, but Tiffany? The bitter thought of Stasia heightened his curiosity and got the better of him. “Tell me, what kind of a marriage did you have?”
“Pardon me?”
“How was your relationship with Ellery?”
Searching gray eyes probed hers and seemed to pierce her soul. Just how much did this man want from her? “I don’t think this is the time or the place—”
“Cut the bull, Tiffany.”
“It’s really none of your business—”
“Like hell! I just spent the night with you, lady, and I think that counts for something.” His skin tightened over his cheekbones and his jaw hardened. An unspoken challenge flared in his intense gaze.
“Wait a minute. You didn’t ‘spend the night’ with me. You merely sat in a chair in my room.”
“Tell that to the rest of the people on the farm.”
“I really don’t give a rip what anyone else thinks, Zane,” she replied, coloring only slightly. “What I do with my life is my own business.”
He quirked a disbelieving brow.
“By the same token, I expect that you wouldn’t go around to the workers and brag that you slept in the boss lady’s room.” Her heart was pounding wildly, but she managed to keep her voice steady.
Zane rammed fingers through his dark hair. “But I did.”
“No reason to brag about it, especially since nothing happened.”
“Not for any lack of wanting on my part,” he admitted with a sigh of frustration. His eyes had darkened, and a tiny muscle worked furiously in the corner of his jaw. The tension that sleep had drained from his body resurfaced, and Tiffany realized for the first time just how badly this man wanted her. Her pulse jumped, and she had to force herself to stand and face him. Things were moving too rapidly, and she couldn’t begin to deal with the bold desire written on Zane’s rugged features.
“This conversation isn’t getting us anywhere,” she whispered, her voice becoming thick as her eyes lingered in the smoky depths of his. “I . . . I’m going to clean up and get dressed and then I’ll fix you that cup of coffee. It’s the least I can do since you helped out here last night . . . and were such a gentleman in the bargain.” She motioned with a suddenly heavy hand toward the door of the room. “There’s a bath down the hall, if you’d like to shave or change. . . .”
He noticed her hesitation. “I brought a change of clothes.”
“You did? Why?” Tiffany demanded. Had he intended to spend the night? Was he using her? If so, then why hadn’t he tried to force himself upon her last night? Surely he had sensed her attraction to him. Zane Sheridan was a very fascinating man, and it had been a long time since she had been with a man . . . so very long.
“I thought I was going straight to the airport from here,” he replied, abruptly bringing her back to the present.
