Wild

by Foster, Lori

  “Maybe. But why would a kid want to?”

  He shrugged. Kids did a lot of stupid things, like taking a bet, or agreeing to vandalism for the thrill of it, or for a few bucks. Someone might have hired a kid for the job. It made as much sense as anything else. “Your problems could just be childish pranks.”

  Tamara bristled. “Childish pranks have ruined my savings account. Repairing the plumbing cost a fortune, not to mention all the cleanup and the fact I had to close for nearly a week. And it wasn’t long after the fire had forced me to miss some days, too.”

  “Do you have a better explanation?”

  She sighed in defeat. “I think somehow, someone is getting in without me knowing it. That’s why my aunts insist—”

  “On Uncle Hubert’s ghost.” Zane shook his head. “I suppose they choose to believe that because it’s less threatening to them than a flesh-and-blood person skulking around, getting in unnoticed.”

  “I think so.” She frowned as she looked up at him, as if she didn’t understand him or his level of concern. If it had been up to her, she wouldn’t have told him anything—except that she wanted him.

  He drew a deep breath. Truth was, Zane didn’t understand himself. Never before had he felt so drawn in by a woman’s problems. Especially when he’d only kissed her, and most of the time in between those kisses had involved her insulting him. And there was the fact that part of her problems included an eclectic group of relations who had taken turns trying to do him bodily harm.

  All in all, Tamara Tremayne shouldn’t have been such a temptation. If he had any sense at all, he’d be running in the other direction.

  But now he was involved up to his eyebrows. He was worried, damn it, when he didn’t like to worry. He felt ... connected to Tamara and everything that surrounded or touched her, including her problems.

  Tamara cleared her throat. “I lost three nice rugs because of the water damage, and several boxes of things that had been on the floor.”

  “It was the toilet in here?”

  “Yes. It’s the only one on this floor. There are two bathrooms upstairs, but I only use the one that connects to my bedroom. The other is in the hall in the part of the house that I’ve shut off.”

  “You don’t use all the rooms upstairs?”

  “No. Uncle Thanos and my aunts live in their own home, and I certainly don’t need all this space.”

  He hated to say it, because the idea of an intruder being near Tamara while she slept filled him with rage and helplessness. But the thought wouldn’t go away. “Maybe someone got in through that part of the house.”

  “Upstairs with me?” She looked taken aback by the idea, and damn if Zane didn’t feel her anxiety as if it were his own. Then she shook her head, the stubbornness he was beginning to recognize apparent in her expression. “No, the windows are all too high for someone to climb through, and they’re locked besides. I even have the hallway door leading to that part of the house locked.”

  “You put a lock on it?”

  “No. It’s not uncommon for older houses to have key locks on all the doors.”

  “A skeleton key?”

  “Yes. But the locks are sturdy and I’m a light sleeper. I’d hear if anyone was prowling around.”

  It was an attempt to convince herself as much as him, and it didn’t work. Zane didn’t like thinking about her being alone. He wasn’t entirely convinced that her prowler was anything more than coincidence and pranks, as the police apparently thought, but just in case, he’d have felt better if she had company.

  He’d always written off intuition as coincidence, but now he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that something was very wrong. Tamara wanted him, but he was almost certain that she needed him, too.

  It was far too soon for him to propose that he stay over; that would suggest an intimacy that she’d claimed to want no part of. He tried doing the next best thing. “You have a phone by your bed?”

  “Yes.”

  “Call me if anything happens, if you hear anything at night or if you just get nervous.”

  “ Zane....”

  “Whatever you do, do not try to deal with an intruder on your own.” He broke out in a sweat as he thought of how she’d tried to race down the steps alone earlier. She hadn’t known that only a box of books had fallen; she’d been fully prepared to confront an unknown assailant.

  “Zane....”

  He could tell she was going to refuse. She was an independent woman, doggedly so, and she wouldn’t like the suggestion that she might need him. “Promise you’ll call me, no matter how silly the reason might seem, or I’m going to suggest to Thanos that he spend the night.”

  Her eyes flared. “Good God, if you do that, my aunts will want to stay, too!”

  He shrugged.

  “Do you have any idea how hard I had to fight for my privacy? It wasn’t easy getting them settled in their own home!”

  He’d want to hear more on that later, he decided. Since he valued his own privacy, and protected it fiercely, he could understand. But this was too important to let go. “Then promise me.”

  Angry color darkened her cheeks. She didn’t like being manipulated any more than he would.

  They had more in common than he’d ever suspected.

  “Do it for me, Tamara,” he insisted. “I know you can take care of yourself, but I’ll still worry.

  “You’re supposed to be a playboy, not a mother hen.”

  Thoroughly exasperated, Zane asked, “Do you always resort to insults when you don’t get your own way?”

  Looking contrite, she bit her lip. “There’s no reason for you to worry.”

  “I’m male and you’re definitely not. That’s all the reason I need.”

  For several seconds she glared at him. “Oh, all right.” After she gave that grudging promise, she actually smiled. “I can tell dealing with you is going to be more difficult than I’d expected.”

  “You thought things would be simple when you propositioned me?” Zane asked. “No messy involvement or unsolicited caring, just sex? I’d show up when you said, leave when I finished, and not talk to you much in between ?”

  She looked uncertain, started to say something, then pinched her mouth together and shrugged.

  Indignation nearly choked him.

  In the past, a no-involvement relationship had always suited him just fine. But at the moment, he wasn’t really sure what he wanted. He decided things would last as long as he said, and she could just deal with it. Not that he’d tell her so.

  Zane turned away from her before she could sidetrack him again.

  Hefting the box, he put it back on the shelf. He made sure it was securely stationed this time and wouldn’t fall, then took Tamara’s hand and started her out of the room. He had more important things to do than moon over his unaccountable feelings for a little Gypsy with too much backbone.

  Keeping her safe was first on the list. And to do that, he had to figure out what the hell was going on. He could probably use a little help with that. He’d see his brothers tomorrow, and maybe they could all come up with a logical explanation.

  Thinking of the razzing he’d take pissed him off, but he could live with that. He couldn’t live with leaving Tamara in danger.

  “Okay, before I head home,” Zane growled, “tell me the rest, and don’t leave anything out.”

  “Zane....” She trotted along next to him as he headed upstairs, where her relatives waited. “You’re ... upset?”

  She was good at reading him, and he didn’t like that much either. He gave her one sharp nod, unwilling to discuss it. He should have known that wouldn’t be enough for Tamara.

  She pulled him to a stop in the middle of the stairs. One step above him now, she was on eye level. Her expression turned serious, and curious, and warm. “Why?” she whispered. “Is it because we can’t start our new ... association tonight? Or is it because of that insult business ? I didn’t mean to make you angry, you know.”

&n
bsp; It didn’t matter this time if she saw his hands shaking. Zane cupped her face and drew her closer until their breaths mingled. “You could have been hurt, Tamara. If you’re right, and it is an intruder deliberately preying on you, you could have been killed.”

  Her eyes widened, in shock both at his vehemence and at the fact that he obviously believed her. Her emotions—relief, confusion, lust—rolled over him in suffocating waves.

  “I’m not just upset, honey. I’m goddamn furious.” Zane kissed her, to try and block the unwelcome connection, to replace it with pure lust, something he could understand and deal with.

  His time as a free man was slipping away, and he knew it.

  Cole was at the bar when Zane wandered in much later that night. He hadn’t meant to go there. Hell, he’d meant to go home and think about things, maybe get some needed sleep. He’d spent a long while talking to Tamara, hearing about the more recent problems. Before he’d left, they’d made plans to have dinner the following day.

  But Zane hadn’t gone home afterward, knowing he’d only have stayed awake thinking of Tamara. And so he found himself at the bar. It was a place of comfort, a place to let his brain rest.

  Women greeted him as he walked in. They didn’t insult him—far from it. They ogled him and smiled suggestively, and his world felt right again.

  Dropping onto a bar stool, Zane asked his brother, “Been busy tonight?”

  Cole glanced up while filling a mug with beer, then continued to look. With a sudden frown, he demanded, “What’d you do?”

  Startled, Zane glanced around, realized Cole was speaking to him, and said, “Nothing. I just got here.”

  Cole slid the beer to the customer, wiped his hands on a dish towel, and propped his elbows on the bar. He studied Zane suspiciously. “You’re up to something.”

  “I am not!” Zane shifted uncomfortably, laughed a little nervously. There was no way Cole could know what he had planned for Tamara.

  “You look just like you used to when you got into trouble.”

  Zane managed a credible snort. “I never got into that much trouble.”

  “Ha! I had outraged mothers calling me all the time.”

  “That’s an exaggeration.” Zane refused to feel guilty about things he’d done in his teens. More often than not, it had been the females asking him out, anyway.

  “You’d stay out too late,” Cole continued, on a damn roll for some reason, “go places you shouldn’t, like parking, and then break things off as soon as she got serious....”

  As if a light went off, Cole straightened. “That’s it! You’re after a new woman, aren’t you?”

  “No!” He wasn’t after Tamara. Good God, just the opposite. She was after him. Of course, he was the one who’d been insistent....

  “I can see it in your face,” Cole said with a nod. “She’s got you hooked, doesn’t she?”

  “No.” That was just plain laughable. No way did Tamara have him hooked; he wouldn’t let himself be hooked. No woman could affect him to the point that it’d be plain on his face, to the point his brother could take one look at him and....

  “If she’s a nice woman, Zane, leave her alone.”

  Leave her alone! Zane couldn’t quite hide his irritation. “I know what I’m doing, Cole.” At least, he thought he did. But Tamara had a way of keeping him guessing, keeping him on edge.

  Affecting him, damn her.

  God, maybe he was hooked.

  “There are plenty of interested females around without seducing one who’s hesitant.” Cole nodded to the room at large. “Just look around you. Hell, half a dozen are ready and waiting as we speak.”

  Zane peered over his shoulder and was met with a lot of seductive looks. Beyond feeding his ego, however, they didn’t move him one bit. He plain wasn’t interested. The only woman he could think of right now was Tamara, and he wanted her bad.

  He turned back to Cole and caught his brother’s speculative gaze. “Now you can just stop that.”

  “Stop what?” Cole asked innocently.

  “Stop imagining things.” Given half a chance, Cole would come up with all kinds of ridiculous notions.

  Cole laughed, forced a shrug, and began wiping off the bar. “If you say so.”

  Gritting his teeth, Zane said, “I am not hooked, damn it!”

  Several people looked up, making Cole lift his brows and Zane cringe. Zane ran a hand through his hair and then stood. “I’m heading home.”

  “Don’t leave mad,” Cole admonished.

  “I’m not mad.”

  This time Cole laughed. “Not hooked, not mad, and not protesting too much, huh?” He hesitated, then said, “Bring her around. I’d like to meet her.”

  “Not yet.” Zane realized what he’d said the second the words left his mouth. He scowled at Cole.

  “Well, at least remember what I told you.”

  “About seducing the unwilling? Ha! I ... no, forget that.” Zane frowned. No way in hell would he explain to his oldest brother that Tamara only wanted him for sex. Not only was it none of his business, it was embarrassing besides.

  Cole took pity on him and leaned across the bar to clap him on the shoulder. “You look exhausted. Get on home and get some sleep.”

  “Yeah, I think I will.” If he stayed any longer, he’d be making confessions and telling more than he should. “Give Sophie a hug from me.”

  Zane made his way out, dodging women and suggestions and invitations. The fresh air felt good, and the thought of his bed sounded great. But Zane knew he wouldn’t sleep. He knew he’d think about Tamara, and if by chance he did doze off, he’d dream about her. He had to get a grip.

  Tomorrow he’d prove to her that he was still in charge. And before the day was over, they’d both believe it.

  Seven

  They had made plans to get together for a late dinner that night. Because she closed up earlier than Zane, she could take care of a few errands first, shower and change, and replace her garish makeup with something more suitable. She could hardly wait.

  Tamara couldn’t remember floating through a workday before, but no matter how busy it got, no matter how harried, she felt elated.

  Zane had said he wanted to discuss things. She didn’t know if he meant her proposition or her problems, but she’d vote for the first. The last thing she wanted was to involve him further in her problems. It was humiliating for one thing; she’d worked long and hard to find a settled life, and she didn’t want him to know her financial position was still precarious. A few more setbacks, like the fire and the water damage, could wipe her out completely.

  And for another, the book had said to be independent. A man should know you want him before he thinks you need him, otherwise you give him an edge. Tamara thought the book was right, and she intended to keep every edge she could; that was the only way she could deal with Zane Winston and not get her heart permanently squashed.

  Luna, who had worked with her that day, eyed her suspiciously. “You’ve been grinning ever since I arrived.”

  Tamara tried, and failed, to suppress another smile. “Have I?” She felt like laughing out loud. After all the recent troubles, it was good to be able to concentrate on something else, something positive, especially when that something was tall, dark, and outrageous.

  “Uh-huh.” Luna looked her over. “Whatever it is, you’re glowing—and impatient. You want me to take the money to the bank for you, so you can get freed up a little earlier?”

  It wasn’t something Luna did often, and Tamara shook her head. “No, that’s okay. I can do it. You probably have a date or something tonight, don’t you?”

  Today Luna had red hair in three stubby braids. The last time she’d worked, her hair had been brown and gelled into a severe bun. Luna changed her appearance from day to day, and the regular customers found her fascinating.

  “I have a date,” Luna said with a wink, “but waiting is good for him. Keeps him on his toes.”

  Tamara wished she could be
so cavalier. She had no intention of keeping Zane Winston waiting for her. Not only was she far too anxious to stay away from him longer than she actually had to, but she just didn’t have the time to waste playing games.

  Smiling like a devout sinner, Tamara said, “I have a sort of a date, too.”

  “What the heck is a sort of a date? You meeting a guy in an alley or something?” As she spoke, Luna went through the routine of snuffing out candles and incense while Tamara took care of the cash register. After counting out enough money for the next day and locking it away, Tamara stuffed the checks and excess cash into a zippered plastic bag. Luna had already run the credit slips and closed out on them.

  Keeping her gaze on the money bag, Tamara admitted, “I’m having dinner with Zane Winston tonight.”

  Luna halted, then let out a long, low whistle. She propped her hands on her rounded hips and fought with a grin. The grin won. “I’ll be damned.”

  “You know who he is?”

  “Honey, there isn’t a woman alive in or around Thomasville who doesn’t know the Winstons, especially that one.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. Her black leather pants gleamed in the dimmed light. “It’s Zane’s antics that have given the Winstons celebrity status.”

  “Not entirely. Heck, they’re all gorgeous, and that’s probably reason enough for them to be so popular.”

  “Maybe,” Luna conceded. “But I saw the article the local paper did on him recently. He made the family tavern topless when he stripped off his shirt to serve drinks to a group of women organizing a wedding shower.”

  “They goaded him into it!”

  Luna’s eyebrows bobbed theatrically. “The guy’s got a stellar chest.”

  Tamara knew that. She blushed just thinking about how great that chest had felt against her hands and her breasts. “Yeah, he does. His brother assured the reporter that from now on, Zane would be wearing a shirt when he worked there.” She couldn’t help laughing. “I have the feeling keeping Zane in line is a full-time job for his brothers.”

  “You know those women asked him to be a stripper at the wedding shower, to surprise the bride.”