Looking ahead, he could see those white capris and her hips moving in an eminently feminine way. The sight produced a pleasant heat beneath his clothes. Releasing a breath, Zane smiled. He was all right now. No problems at all. Just a man contemplating sex with a woman. And wondering how soon he could arrange the matter.
He hurried toward the car.
~~~
She should have been feeling high, or at the very least, satisfied. They'd got what they'd come for, the name of the man who'd owned Savannah's house in Pacific Palisades. He was their best suspect, very possibly the answer to the question that had nagged Pattie ever since her sister's drug overdose death.
But as Pattie followed Tristan out the scraggly opening in the chicken wire fence, she felt decidedly uneasy. It was because of Zane, of course. He was behaving...suspiciously.
"I'm gonna use my sc'ewd'ivah at home," Tristan confided to her as Pattie opened the back door of the car. He kept his gaze lovingly on the scrap of wood cradled against his chest as he climbed into his car seat one-handed.
"Sounds like a plan, my man." Despite her unease, Pattie smiled at the child. She was about to reach over to fasten his car seat belt, when Zane opened the back door on the other side of the car.
"Oh." He smiled. "You're already doing it."
"Yeah," she replied. "I'll strap him in."
Still grinning, Zane backed out of the car and closed the door.
Hissing out a quiet breath, Pattie closed the buckle on Tristan's seat belt. Yet another example of Zane's suspicious behavior. He'd just given in, ceded her some Tristan-duty. And earlier, while they were talking with the carpenter, he'd been careful not to take too much charge, to give Pattie some control.
Yes, all of this unwonted consideration would have been mysterious enough on its own. It was much worse, though, when put together with Zane's conduct this morning, when she'd told him her theory about B.O.B. the carpenter. He'd played it very cool and low-key, with none of his customary arrogance.
While fidgeting with Tristan's car seat straps, Pattie wondered about Zane's new attitude. She sensed he was playing her, like a fisherman played a fish.
"Ted Cranston isn't a very unusual-sounding name," Zane said, settling behind the wheel of the car. "But I'm confident we'll find something that points to the guy we want."
Pattie nodded. "Having a name is a lot more than we had before."
"Exactly." Calmly, Zane adjusted the rear view mirror, as if that were the only thing on his mind.
Pattie didn't believe it for a minute. But the banal action still had the effect of setting her at ease and calming her resistance.
Oh, he was a damn good fisherman.
But she was onto him. She knew what he was after. Smiling slightly, she patted Tristan's chest and backed out of the car.
Zane wanted to go to bed with her again. This truth was revealed every time he tugged on the line, when he let the heat of desire glint in his eye.
She had to admit Zane's sexual hunger was flattering. But, so what? They weren't going to do anything about it. As she climbed into the passenger seat of the car, she did her best to keep a dispassionate demeanor.
Unfortunately, Zane seemed to guess she wasn't actually dispassionate. "There's a significant chance Tristan will fall asleep on the way home," he said, sending her a meaningful glance as he started the car.
His implication was obvious. If Tristan fell asleep, they'd have an opportunity to be alone together.
Pattie wasn't sure if Zane were incredibly thick, or simply handicapped by his birth as a male. Didn't he realize what would happen if they went to bed together? Or...had their one lovemaking given him no emotional aftershocks?
The idea dismayed. Could they have had such very different reactions to the same event?
"I'm not gonna fall 'sleep!" Tristan proclaimed.
Pulling the Rav4 from the curb, Zane merely smiled. It was the smile of a man who'd seen many toddlers make the same vain claim.
He was assuming way too much, both about Tristan and about her. Grinning, Pattie glanced back toward Tristan. "That's the spirit, kid. You keep your eyes open all the way home, all right?"
"You betcha!" Tristan rocked back and forth in his seat.
Turning forward again, Pattie smiled toward Zane. It was a smile of sweet serenity. The man could think what he liked and scheme how he pleased. It wasn't going to change anything.
They were not going to bed together again.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Tristan was sound asleep. Zane thought the child looked like an angel as he set the boy on his bed. Tristan's lashes lay long on his peaches-and-cream cheeks and a sweet expression curved his little mouth. His arms still clutched the beloved wood chip. He'd lasted maybe ten minutes on the ride home from the construction site before passing out for his nap.
With a smile, Zane stepped back from the bed. He gave himself a moment there, alone with Tristan in his bedroom. He pondered.
Inside him simmered a stew of impatience. How long did Pattie intend to pussyfoot around? And why? They both wanted each other. As he'd decided earlier, the whole thing was very simple, a satisfaction of mutual needs.
Clasping his hands behind his back, he rolled his weight onto the balls of his feet. Maybe it was time to lay his cards on the table. Time to make Pattie lay her cards down too.
He turned and stalked out of the bedroom.
In the kitchen, he saw Pattie scooping coffee grounds from her tin container.
She stilled when Zane stopped in the door opening. Her gaze flicked over to him, widened, and then locked.
Zane couldn't help smiling. This was not going to be difficult. She was already halfway there. The realization made him feel generous, made him decide to ease into the thing gently and give her pride a chance to catch up.
"I'd like to share your thoughts," Zane told her. He leaned against the doorframe. "...about Ted Cranston."
At his innocuous words, she visibly relaxed. "Oh, yeah. I guess we could talk...about that." She cleared her throat. "Uh, why don't we go into the living room?"
Her bright smile following this suggestion told Zane she wanted to get away from the kitchen. She obviously remembered what had happened the last time they'd been in the kitchen together.
Her idea that changing venues would change the ultimate outcome amused him. Here, there—it wouldn't make a spot of difference. "Sure," he agreed. "Let's go into the living room."
Swiveling, he left the kitchen and led the way into the carpeted living room, amused all over again when Pattie chose an easy chair to settle in, a place where Zane couldn't possibly sit next to her.
As if that would be any kind of obstacle.
Wryly, he sank into her overstuffed sofa. Enjoying himself now, he simply looked at her.
Pattie pretended to have no idea what was going on. Enthusiastically, she opened her mouth. "So! About Ted Cranston. I know it won't be easy trying to figure out which Ted Cranston we're looking for. But there are some tricks we can use to narrow down the search, and I know a website where you can find out all kinds of—"
"Pattie," Zane interrupted.
Her lashes lowered. With clear warning, she replied, "Zane?"
"I do want to discuss Ted Cranston with you, but...maybe later." He put an arm across the back of the sofa. "Right now there's something more urgent on my mind."
Her eyes said she knew exactly what he was talking about, but her brows rose questioningly, as if she had no idea. "Oh, really?"
"Uh huh." Zane tapped his fingers along the back of the sofa. "Are you going to make me say it?"
Color slowly rose into her cheeks. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Zane couldn't help smiling. She was trying to make this difficult, which only made it all the more interesting. A challenge. He was starting to understand that he liked challenges, particularly where Pattie Bowen was concerned.
"Then I'll explain." Slowly, he stood. "But I'd rather show you than tell yo
u."
Her eyes glittered as he walked toward her. Zane saw defiance in her gaze.
His excitement ratcheted up a notch. She intended to resist. Ah, good luck to her.
Deliberately, he came to a stop in front of her chair. He held out one hand.
Pattie simply looked up at him. Her eyes still glittered defiance, but if she really didn't want this, she could have walked out of the room. She could have sent him away.
Assuring himself he wasn't forcing her, Zane bent to pick up her hand.
She didn't respond, didn't curl her fingers around his or anything. But she didn't resist, either.
Slowly, he pulled.
Just barely, she let him tug her, let him draw her from the chair. Slowly, she rose to her feet.
She was glaring at him now. But she didn't walk away. She didn't tell him to go to hell. She just stood there and glared. She knew this was going to happen, but for some reason, she wanted to act pissed about it.
Zane almost laughed, but his mirth dissipated with the sudden realization this was going to happen. And it was going to be— It was going to be—
Important.
Whoa, no. Not important. Wrong word. It was going to be—
Mind-blowing. Yeah, that was it. Mind-blowing.
With such an imperative, Zane's heart beat like mad. He pulled again on her hand. He only pulled a tiny amount, not enough to move a woman who didn't want to move.
She didn't move.
He went still, too. He could wait. Meanwhile, her hand remained in his.
Her eyes narrowed. "So?"
Zane raised his eyebrows. "So?"
She lightly dug her nails into his palm. "What are you waiting for?"
He couldn't help smiling. "You."
Her narrowed eyes widened. "You think I'm gonna make the next move?"
"Ah...only if you want to."
"And you think I'm going to want to."
He thought she'd already made it crystal clear she wanted to, but he wasn't idiot enough to say so. "I...think I could convince you, maybe."
"Huh."
"For example, I could tell you how much I want you, how goddam sexy you are, just standing there. Not just now, but all the time. The way you move, the way you talk, the way you think—it all turns me on, honey."
Her nostrils flared. "God, Zane. You are so full of it."
He lifted a shoulder. "I'm just being honest. You get through to me, when I never thought another woman was going to get through. You make me...take stupid chances." He laughed softly, adding, "Like this one."
She was staring now. Her appearance was part angry and part...vulnerable.
God, it was terrible when she let him see down into her that way. It made him want to—to—just fold her in his arms and kiss away her fears.
"You are so full of it," she whispered, still looking like that.
Zane felt his chest swell. "Ah, honey." He couldn't resist gently tugging her hand. "C'mere."
She came. No more resistance, she simply swayed forward.
Suddenly, he was holding her, with all her powerful, soft, vibrant femininity.
"I'm gonna be so good to you," he murmured, his lips against hers. "Let me show you."
"Lord, Zane," she muttered back. "Don't you know when to shut up?"
He smiled, his mouth against hers. "But I was just getting star—"
She pressed her lips to his.
He shut up. It wasn't a hard kiss, or even a particularly passionate one. If anything, it was kind of...soft. Almost tentative.
It caught him like nothing else could have. All of his certainty, his plans, his lascivious fantasies—gone. The only thing he wanted to do, with single-minded passion, was exactly what he'd promised: to show her.
She was the world.
~~~
Oh, he was good. Pattie had to give credit where it was due. Zane was awfully talented at acting sincere and tender. She wasn't taken in by it, of course, but it sure felt nice to play along, at least for a minute.
"Pattie," Zane murmured. "Pattie." He sounded utterly enthralled.
She let herself melt against him. As long as she kept in mind this was all make-believe, there was no harm in going along with it. Just for a little while.
"Pattie." He said her name like it was something important.
That killed her. Not that she couldn't let go of him...soon.
"Mmm." He clutched her closer. "What you do to me, I want to do for you."
It was the perfect time to put a stop to the whole nonsense. She wasn't going to bed with him. About that, she remained firm.
"Let me..." Zane's lips grazed her cheek, the side of her jaw. "Let me..."
Was it his voice, so deep and alluring, or his lips, so soft and warm—? A shudder went through her, something that weakened her knees.
No, she thought. No, no, no.
"Let's go to your bedroom," Zane suggested in a low, rough voice.
No, Pattie thought. Oh, absolutely not.
"Okay," she heard herself say.
What? Her brain squawked in disbelief. Had she just said okay? Taking Zane to her bedroom was not okay. If she let him— She'd get all soft and mushy, like she had the last time. Needy.
Then he smiled at her, that quiet, almost-shy smile. He took her hand.
With her hand in his, she followed him down the hall.
After closing and locking her bedroom door, Zane turned to her.
Now, Pattie thought. Now was the time to tell him it was all a mistake. Very sorry, she hadn't meant to lead him on, but they weren't going to do anything.
His eyes were very soft. "I want this to be perfect."
Good luck with that. But Pattie didn't voice the sarcastic sentiment. Instead she stupidly wondered what Zane had in mind.
"Let's start here," he breathed, and took her head between his hands.
When his lips touched hers, a soft rain fell through her. This wasn't perfect; this was terrible. Awful. Exactly what she didn't want.
"Good," Zane breathed. "You taste so good."
In a choked voice, Pattie heard herself ask, "Really?"
He kissed her again, his mouth opening over hers, his tongue seeking entrance.
Heat washed over Pattie. Her arms went around him, holding on, holding close.
What happened next? She lost herself, that's what. His hands were on her breasts, then drawing off her blouse. He got her pants off, together with her panties. After that, it was his palms and his lips on her skin.
The world boiled down to the sensations ripping through her. Oh, and the words, the wonderful, completely unbelievable words coming out of his mouth. "...beautiful...perfect...marvelous."
Pattie'd had other lovers sweet talk her. None of their words had pierced her the way Zane's did.
A luxurious languor overwhelmed her. When Zane drew her toward the bed, she lay on it. She settled on her back, perfectly naked, feeling oh, so deliciously passive as she watched Zane undress.
"God, you're gorgeous," he said, unzipping his fly.
She was already aroused for him, but his words made an even deeper desire drop over her as sweet and silky as a mink coat. It didn't hurt that he was gorgeous, too. His chest was powerfully curved, and covered with wheat-blond curls. His arms had muscles that stretched and bunched in a fascinating way, especially when he pushed down his pants.
Ah, he was beautiful there, too, the curls thicker and a darker blond than on his chest. His erection was large and eager. Quickly, he got out a condom—his own this time—and rolled it on.
Her languor deepened. Dimly, very dimly, she remembered she hadn't wanted to do this. With Zane, sex had too much power.
Mostly, however, she just wanted him inside her. She felt a little crazy, in fact, hungry to get him inside her, to have him...possess her. She held out her arms.
He got on the bed and embraced her. His eyes were very dark, very intent. "Not yet."
"I'm ready."
"Maybe." His lips curved. "B
ut you're not desperate."
"Oh..." Whatever protest she might have made descended into a moan as Zane lowered his lips to her left nipple.
He mouthed her already furled tip for a moment and then set his teeth, gently, but decisively, around it. At the same time, his fingers went to the curls between her legs. His fingertips slipped into her private folds.
Gasping, Pattie opened her thighs.
With this greater access, Zane soon found what he'd apparently been looking for. She cried out as he gently stroked her sensitive core. Another cry, louder, when he bit down on her nipple at the same time.
"Now," she begged.
"Soon," he promised.
"Now."
He laughed softly, his warm breath feathering her wet nipple.
She writhed. "Please."
"Oh, well. Since you asked so nicely." He moved, but not to cover her. Instead, he took her knees, spread her legs even more, and lowered his head.
"Ohmigod." Pattie thought she would die. His mouth—it was warm and wet and...perfect. Her arms clutched the pillow above her head. "Please," she moaned again.
"You're...amazing," he groaned back.
This wasn't what she'd wanted, to lie here helpless and passive, completely at his mercy. Yet there was something unbelievably pleasurable about it: being at his mercy, being his. Pleasure crashed through her with each stroke of his tongue. Soon that was all she was: a creature of pleasure. She could feel the intensity of that pleasure rise and rise, like a tide, inexorable, unstoppable.
She was going to come, without him getting inside her at all. Zane's wonderful plan had backfired. After this, she wouldn't have anything left to give him.
The well-known sensations washed over her, spinning through her head. She was in the midst of the wonder when Zane moved, drawing over her. She felt his body stroke into hers.
Full, complete, beyond. It seemed as though they were not two people, but one. It shouldn't have been possible, but her climax crested higher.
"Zane."
He folded her closely in his arms and shuddered powerfully. Deep inside herself, she could feel him pulse.
She clutched him while they soared through the apex together.
In that glorious moment, Pattie felt no fear. All she experienced was gratitude and a sweet, sweet surrender.
If I Loved You Page 19