“I’m waiting for an answer,” Ryan said.
Zoe shivered and pushed up the air-conditioning vents so they pointed away from her, but the chill remained.
“I don’t see that I have a choice but to follow your rules unless I want a flood back here,” Sam muttered.
A muscle twitched in Ryan’s cheek. “You just reminded me of my next condition. No more soda until we get there.”
Sam started to stick out her tongue, then obviously thought better of it and whipped her head around to the side, glancing out the window. “Whatever you say, oh great one,” Sam muttered.
Ryan raised an eyebrow Zoe’s way. “Is she always this pleasant?”
Zoe couldn’t help but stifle a chuckle. “I have to say she reserves her best behavior for you.”
“I feel so privileged.” Ryan grinned and they shared their first easy laugh of the day.
True to his word, he pulled off at the next rest stop and drove up to the entrance of a small mini-mart with bathrooms around the side.
Sam yanked on the handle, obviously intent on storming out of the car.
“Come right back,” he called after her.
She saluted and marched out of the car, slamming the door behind her.
Zoe rolled her eyes and leaned back in her seat. “I hope you don’t think you’ve won this round.”
“What does that mean?”
“Just that I expect Sam will stop ordering you to pull over now that you promised her that her demand for pit stops won’t bother you.”
He lowered his sunglasses. “And wasn’t that the point?” he asked with all the confusion of a man unfamiliar with children.
His puzzled expression was endearing, showing her yet another side of this multifaceted man. She shook her head and laughed. “Ryan, you have a lot to learn when it comes to teens. I mean, just don’t think she’s letting up because you put one over on her or because she’s found some sort of respect for you. You just took the fun out of her game. She’ll find another way to torture you instead.”
He turned in his seat. “Well I’ll call it a draw, then.”
She inclined her head, giving him this one. Heaven knew Sam would find enough ways to challenge him in the days ahead. But without the frequent pit stops now, Zoe knew they might not have another chance to talk alone.
“Ryan, something you just said bothers me,” she stated bluntly. She bent one knee beneath her, accidentally brushing her leg against his thigh. She sucked in a deep breath and tried to focus.
He whipped off his eyeglasses, placing them in the empty cup holder, and his deep gaze bored into hers—so warm, so darn sexy, she thought she’d melt right then and there. She flipped the vents again so the cool air blew directly onto her skin.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, sounding as if he truly cared.
She badly wanted to believe that he did. “We already talked about you not trying to mold Sam into some perfect child your family will accept.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a hand, forestalling him. “I’m not suggesting her current language is appropriate or even acceptable. She needs discipline and I agree with how you’re handling her.”
“Thank you for that.” He tipped his head to one side. “Then I don’t see what the problem is.”
She sighed. How to explain and not insult him at the same time? “The problem is you need to accept her for the free spirit she is. So does your family. Otherwise not only will they have learned nothing from your sister’s running away and subsequent death, but you’ll end up running Sam off, too.”
Despite Sam’s frequent over-the-top behavior, Zoe had seen firsthand the fun and joy he experienced watching her just be herself. That was the man Zoe enjoyed, too, and she didn’t want to lose him when they reached Boston.
Her fingers twitched with the desire to reach out to him, her emotions warring with her mind. Her emotions won. She placed a hand over his warmer, more roughened one. “Am I making any sense to you?”
Ryan nodded. Her soft fingers wrapped around his hand and the heat shot straight through to his heart. This woman affected him. She made him want to please her in ways he’d never thought or cared about with any woman who’d come before. For that reason he was listening to her concerns and honestly trying to keep an open mind. But the truth was that coming home would mean a reversion of sorts and that included a stricter code of behavior. Especially if he was going to convince his parents to accept Sam, as they hadn’t accepted their own daughter.
Ryan had never faced a greater challenge. Except for keeping Zoe happy. He had no idea how he’d accomplish both goals.
“I’ll try to be more understanding,” he promised, not just for Sam’s sake, but for his and Zoe’s. The key to any kind of future with this woman lay in her believing in him.
She nodded. “That’s all I can ask for.”
Her hand still lay on top of his, and as gestures went, he knew it was a big one.
They waited five minutes more, but there was no sign of Sam. “Want to go in after her?” he asked.
“I guess I’d better.” Zoe reached for her seat belt buckle when a piercing scream shattered the silence.
Both Ryan and Zoe darted out of the car.
He ran to the end of the small building in time to see Sam running and shrieking.
“Come back!” she yelled and began to run toward the patch of grass on the boulevard.
In that instant, Ryan somehow knew exactly what was going on and he sprinted past Sam, determined to stop the wandering pig. Unfortunately Ima had other ideas and the little runt continued to bolt toward the grass. The highway lay just beyond.
He managed to step on the leash, which gave him a chance to reach for the pig, but she was more than an arm’s length away. He stumbled and she scooted ahead, giving him no choice but to dive into the grass and grab her leash just in time.
He rose to his feet, trembling pig in hand, to find Sam and Zoe staring at him with wide, frightened eyes.
“Your stowaway, I presume?” He held Ima out for Sam.
She grabbed her pet, first wrapping her hand around and around the leash so the animal couldn’t run away again. “You saved her from becoming roadkill,” Sam said, obviously grateful he’d shown up when he had.
Zoe cleared her throat loudly.
“Thank you,” Sam added.
“You’re welcome.” He met her gaze and for a brief moment, all her teenage anger and resentment disappeared.
Only gratitude and pleasure shone in her blue eyes and Ryan warmed, happy to be the recipient of something other than her disgust.
“What happened?” Zoe asked.
Sam shrugged. “It was so fast, I’m not sure. I used the bathroom and then I took Ima out so she could do the same thing. Somehow the leash slipped out of my hands and she bolted. I was so scared when she started running for the highway.” She shivered. “I didn’t want some car makin’ bacon out of her.”
Ryan shook his head and tried not to laugh at her description. “You should have told me you wanted to bring her along. Then you wouldn’t have had to sneak her out for walks behind my back.”
“We were afraid you’d say no,” Sam said.
“We were afraid?” He glanced Zoe’s way.
She clasped her hands behind her back and began whistling, deliberately not meeting his gaze.
She definitely wasn’t innocent. “You didn’t have much faith in me, did you?” he asked her.
She looked away. “I guess not.”
The admission hit him in the gut and hurt more than it should have. He wasn’t sure what disappointed him more, her lack of trust or himself and what he’d done to bring it on.
In silence, the three of them walked back to the car. Before getting in he paused to brush the dirt off his arms and khaki slacks, figuring he resembled a major-league ball player after a long skid home.
Unable to help himself, he glanced up at the sky and laughed.
SINCE RYAN WOULDN
’T HEAR of Sam staying in a hotel and Sam wouldn’t remain at Ryan’s without Zoe, Zoe found herself unpacking clothing in one of the two extra rooms in Ryan’s townhome in downtown Boston.
The condo was an old brownstone duplex apartment that had been renovated inside with gorgeous crown moldings and auburn-colored wood floors. Although the apartment had obviously been decorated by a professional, Zoe couldn’t fault Ryan for going to excesses. Every piece in the apartment served a purpose or looked as if it belonged.
For warmth and personal touches, on the shelves she’d passed in the living room he’d placed photographs—Ryan and a couple that had to be his parents, Ryan and his uncle, whom Zoe hoped to avoid on this trip because he made her uncomfortable, and a photo of his sister, Faith, at Sam’s age. Forever young because of her untimely death.
Zoe liked Ryan’s home, and the fact that it lacked the uptight, artificial feeling she’d feared she’d find here, gave her hope. Hope that Ryan had more of the man she liked inside him.
It had been a day of contrasts, she thought. Her mind strayed back to the incident at the rest stop with the pig. He’d thought nothing of his own safety or his good clothing, as he’d dived into the dirt to save Ima because he knew how much the animal meant to Sam. And because he knew his life wouldn’t be worth squat if Sam lost her pet.
His expression when he’d handed the pig back to Sam had been priceless, a man so proud of his accomplishment—until he’d realized even Zoe hadn’t trusted him enough to ask permission to take Ima along. The hurt and desolation in his gaze stayed with her even now.
But then there was the moment at the car when he’d brushed off his filthy pants and arms. He’d been dirty, disheveled and sexy. A man comfortable in his own skin. And when he’d laughed—oh, when he’d looked up and flashed those dimples—Zoe could have sworn the sun shone more brightly in the sky. She’d felt the heat and happiness and wished it could always be that way between them.
“I’m unpacked!” Sam bounced into the room and onto the bed.
“Someone’s in a good mood.”
“Yeah well you-know-who said Ima could stay with me in my room.”
“No kidding? Well make sure you keep her in her crate so she doesn’t mess the floors,” Zoe warned.
“Yeah, yeah. So how long do we have to stay here before we can go back home?” Sam asked.
Zoe shivered, not wanting to admit to Sam that for all they knew, this would be her home.
Chapter Nine
TO ZOE’S SURPRISE, they spent the next few days having a lot of fun. Ryan took them to Faneuil Hall, on the Duck Tour, and they hit many historical landmarks. They had dinner at Legal Seafoods one night and at Union Oyster Bar the next, and Davio’s, an Italian restaurant in the North End on the third evening.
Now they found themselves at Ryan’s office where he proudly showed off the brownstone where he and his partners worked. He’d wanted Sam to meet his associates and the rest of the staff, and perhaps because she was still experiencing twinges of gratitude over his saving Ima, Sam went without argument. For Zoe, it was a chance to see Ryan in his own environment without his family pulling at him and without hers changing him.
Zoe waited until Sam headed off to get something to eat with Ryan’s secretary before she inclined her head toward his office, indicating she wanted to talk to him alone.
He gestured for her to go on in and he followed, shutting the door behind them. “Like it?” he asked.
She glanced around at the typical attorney’s surroundings, dark wood desk, bookshelves, diplomas and a row of windows with a view of the cloudless blue sky. Clearly, Ryan did well for himself and he cared about what she thought.
“It’s perfect,” she said, stepping toward the plate-glass windows.
“Meaning?”
She sensed him come up behind her, his body heat warmer than that of the sun shining through the glass. Ignoring her awareness of him in his apartment was getting more and more difficult, especially since her bedroom shared a wall with his. She knew when he woke up and when he went to sleep—and when he tossed and turned as fitfully as she.
She turned now to find him closer than she’d realized and she stepped back toward the window. He came forward.
Zoe sucked in a breath and exhaled slowly. “We need to talk,” she told him.
“We damn well do.” He reached up and loosened his tie.
The effect of him looking so relaxed and slightly rumpled in his power suit was devastating to her senses. Her knees shook as though she was a school-girl on her first date.
“I need to hold you or I’m going to go insane.” His deep gaze burned into hers. “I have to taste you.” His hands came to rest on the window above her shoulders, as he dipped his head closer. His determined expression told her he wasn’t about to be deterred.
She trembled, wanting the same things. “That’s not what I wanted to talk about,” she managed to say, despite being breathless with anticipation.
He lowered his head, his forehead touching hers. “What is it?” He sounded resigned to listening first and kissing second.
Disappointment filled her nonpractical side, while her rational side applauded her self-restraint. “This is our fourth day here and you haven’t mentioned taking Sam to see your family at all.”
She voiced the concern that enveloped her constantly. How would his relatives treat the teenager who was just coming to trust Ryan a little bit more each day?
Zoe refused to factor her own feelings into meeting his family, telling herself that what they thought of her didn’t matter. Yet she couldn’t deny that if and when they were introduced, she wanted smoother sailing than she’d had with Uncle Russ. The thought of his parents judging and finding her lacking turned her stomach, because despite everything, she cared how it might affect what Ryan thought of her.
“We’re going to my parents’ house for dinner tonight,” he said, finally.
“Let me guess. You were going to spring it on us at the last minute.” She tried for a teasing tone, but Ryan had tensed up and he wasn’t relaxing or laughing at her joke.
“Do you blame me?” he asked instead. “Sam doesn’t need another excuse to run away and as for you—”
“Afraid I’ll embarrass you in front of your parents?” Again she tried for a laugh, but she also averted her gaze, not wanting him to see how serious her question actually was.
Ryan knew Zoe well enough by now to get when she was feeling vulnerable and, despite the jokes, the idea of meeting his family obviously scared her. Hell, there were times his parents scared him, too.
He placed his hand beneath her chin and lifted her gaze. “They will adore you,” he said, knowing in his heart every word was a lie.
They’d find her short skirts and high heels as offensive as they’d found his sister’s tube tops and ripped denim shorts way back when. Hell, Uncle Russ had already expressed his shock after meeting Zoe and catching the obvious undercurrents between them. Though Russ was a ladies’ man and he dated all types, it didn’t matter since he was determined never to settle down.
But Ryan was different. His uncle knew that Ryan wanted to have the kind of family he’d lacked growing up. Unfortunately, for all that Uncle Russ supported Ryan, he also had enough of the Baldwin genes to want Ryan to find the proper wife to carry on the Baldwin name. “Proper” meaning correct bloodlines, manners and breeding.
“Ryan?” Zoe’s voice startled him. “Where’d you go?” she asked of the mental break he’d just taken.
He met her wide-eyed gaze and refused to acknowledge aloud that Zoe Costas and her con-artist, day-spa, pig-owning family didn’t fit with the Baldwin family lineage—something Ryan hadn’t wanted to think about or deal with during his time in New Jersey. He’d blocked out everything he could about home and focused on nothing but getting to know Sam. And his growing feelings for Zoe.
“I was just thinking about this.” He leaned forward and captured her lips in a kiss. A hot, devouring kiss fil
led with all the desire that had kept him awake nights and the yearning he experienced each time he looked at her.
Apparently she felt the same way and missed him just as much because she wound her arms around his neck, pulled him close, and thrust her tongue inside his mouth in a clear act of desire and possession.
He groaned and pulled her tightly against him, his groin thrusting against the barrier of his pants, eager to escape confinement and sink deep inside her moist heat. It’d been too damn long, he thought. Her hips swayed from side to side, seeking more intimate contact, and he was happy to oblige. He widened his stance and let his aching member settle between her legs so they could grind against each other, mimicking the act of making love as best they could.
Only the window seemed to support them now. Zoe’s breath came faster and she breathed hot and heavy in his ear. He couldn’t remember any woman who made him want so much. Need so much. And wish to give back as generously as she gave to him. In the back of his mind, he understood that more than his body was engaged with Zoe and he’d have to deal with that soon.
But first he’d handle the woman writhing against him, almost ready to come apart in his arms. He was damn close himself and every ounce of self-control went into keeping himself in check while bringing her closer and closer to what he hoped would be a mind-blowing orgasm.
He’d already caught her rhythm with his hips and pelvis and it wasn’t long before he thrust upward one last time and she shook, groaned and came, calling out his name.
Only when she finally caught her breath did he step back. He took in her flushed cheeks and the way she attempted to straighten her clothing and grinned.
“I’m sure this isn’t appropriate behavior for a partner,” she said wryly.
He raised an eyebrow. “Who knows? There is a reason we partners have private bathrooms in our offices, you know.” He pointed to the door in the back corner of the room.
She blushed and in a very un-Zoelike way, ran to the restroom to pull herself together. Still, she had a point. He’d never brought a woman he was seeing to his office, let alone made one come behind the closed door.
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