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He stood on the porch and waited until she was inside her car before he turned away. The urge to slam the door was almost more than he could resist. The anger that festered inside him was sharp, raw and completely irrational.
He’d only met Lesley Walker, and if the Fates were with him, the necessity of seeing her again would be minimal. She had yet to pull out of his driveway, and already he was worrying about how long it would be before he could see her again.
This woman was dangerous. Instinctively Zane recognized the threat she represented to his sanity. It was unfortunate. He would have enjoyed getting to know her but he could see no purpose in developing any kind of relationship when he fully expected to be dead within the year.
* * *
Lesley caught her reflection in the rearview mirror and saw that her mouth had formed into a tight line. “That, my dear,” she whispered to herself, “was a brush-off.” She wondered what she’d said or done to offend the great and mighty Zane Ackerman.
One thing was sure, he was by far the most unusual man she’d ever met. Compelling. Forceful. Handsome. Even with the scar that ran down one side of his face. And the limp seemed to enhance the sense of overwhelming masculinity.
When Jordan Larabee had contacted her about this project, he’d been uncharacteristically closemouthed about the man he was sending her to meet. All Jordan had said was that he’d appreciate it if she’d look over the project and get back to him.
The request was unusual in itself. The fact that it came from Jordan made it more so.
Lesley worked for one of the largest and best-known architectural firms in Chicago. Remodeling projects were not her expertise. Most recently, she’d worked on the plans for a high-rise apartment complex. She was responsible for the design of a new city library and the year before, a large government building. Jordan knew all that and yet he’d personally requested she be the one to look at Zane Ackerman’s home.
Lesley’s relationship with Jordan was finally back on an even keel. They’d once dated while Jordan had been separated from his wife, and had gotten serious enough to discuss the possibility of marriage.
At the time, Lesley had agreed to Jordan’s stipulation that there be no children. After the death of his infant son to SIDS, Jordan had refused to consider a family. But, as it turned out, Jordan had reunited with his wife.
It had never set well with Lesley that she was dating a man who remained technically married. When their relationship had progressed to the point that they were serious enough to contemplate making a commitment, Lesley had insisted Jordan go ahead with the divorce. Unfortunately he hadn’t a clue where his wife, Molly, was.
Then Jordan discovered that she was working as a nurse in the politically unstable country of Manuka in Africa. And despite Lesley’s protests, he had insisted upon going after her himself.
Far more than a rescue had taken place the day Jordan found Molly. Less than three months after the other woman’s return to Chicago, Lesley learned that Molly was pregnant. Their daughter was born six months later and within the last year they’d had a son.
Lesley was happy for the couple, and wished them her best. In retrospect, she recognized she hadn’t been in love with Jordan Larabee. Instead, she had been in love with the idea of being married. The idea of being a wife. Frankly, it appealed to her now as much as it had three years earlier, but she wasn’t as desperate as she’d been the year she turned thirty. If she met the right man, she’d be thrilled. Ecstatic. But frankly, she had given up hope of that happening.
In the time since her breakup with Jordan, she had dated a number of men. But they seemed to fall into two distinct classifications: the disillusioned and the unfit. She wasn’t interested in either group.
As she drove down the long driveway that led back to the highway, Lesley realized that because she was interested in the house, she hadn’t paid any attention to the view of Lake Michigan. Now the view flashed before her like a shooting star blazing across a velvet night. She literally slammed her foot on the brake.
The car jolted to an abrupt stop. For a moment she did nothing but sit and stare, the view as spectacular as any she’d seen. The blue sky reflected upon the water’s white-capped surface like a shiny mirror. Gulls circled overhead and fluffy clouds billowed past.
Hardly aware of what she was doing, Lesley turned off the engine and climbed out of the vehicle. She didn’t mean to trespass as she walked across the large expanse of manicured lawn, but she couldn’t help herself.
She’d wandered some distance when she stumbled upon a viewpoint. A stone bench sat at the edge of the drop-off. Clusters of blooming red roses scented the afternoon air.
After standing and admiring the view for several moments, Lesley sat down and breathed in the calm beauty of the scene before her. Water stretched for as far as the eye could see. Sailboats with their bright spinnakers dotted the surface. Motorboats zoomed past, their wakes rippling wider and wider swells.
For no reason Lesley could understand, emotion clogged her throat. It was as though this house, this property…this man lured her very soul.
She’d sensed it the moment she’d turned into the driveway. Felt it to the very marrow of her bones. The house had called out to her like a wailing spirit. A small voice buried deep inside her heart had welcomed her home. Because she was practical, she’d refused to believe, refused to listen.
That was when she first noticed Zane standing on the porch, waiting for her arrival. One look at the forceful, enigmatic man and she had felt as though all the oxygen had emptied from her lungs. Never had she reacted to a man quite this way.
Even now she was left to wonder what had happened between them those first few moments. Neither chose to voice whatever it was, and both seemed equally uncomfortable with the force of the attraction.
Later, Zane couldn’t seem to get rid of her fast enough, and Lesley was convinced that whatever had transpired had all been one-sided.
Now she wasn’t so sure.
A sound behind her alerted her to the fact that she was no longer alone. Lesley stood and turned to face the man who’d dominated her thoughts from the moment they’d met.
Zane sat atop a black gelding, his dark gaze focused on her. “I thought you’d left.”
Embarrassed to have been found trespassing, Lesley cleared her throat and licked her lips before she forced herself to smile. “Hello again,” she greeted. Zane made an intimidating figure sitting atop the sleek Arabian, staring down on her. Because the sun was behind him, it made it all the more difficult to read his expression, but she couldn’t help feeling that he was displeased to find her still on his property. “I hope you don’t mind that I stopped to admire the view.”
