Ella drove to Zane’s home with every swearword she knew on the tip of her tongue, ready to lash out. Until she reached his street and the tension in her shoulders drained away. Is it really a matter of life or death? Remember the last time you wrote him off?
She remembered all too well.
His little episode with her shoes was a mean trick to play. In front of all her colleagues he’d made her look a fool.
She parked her car, letting it idle a few moments before switching it off and bringing forth all those swearwords again, just in case.
Zane waited on the back porch. She wasn’t surprised he’d heard her arrival seeing as she’d slammed his side gate harder than necessary. His eyes were broody, his suit long since discarded for casual knee-length shorts. A navy cotton tee stretched over his broad chest.
Determined to have the upper hand, Ella pressed her shoulders back and ground her teeth, but then her eyes were drawn to his bare feet. For a moment she weakened, willing to do anything to have those feet rub against her legs. Inwardly, she groaned, realising how much she missed him.
She gave her head a quick shake, sucked in a ragged breath and ignored her pounding heart. With a straight back, she gave him a glare worthy of an Olympic gold medal. “You wanted to see me?”
He beckoned for her to come inside. When the door closed behind her, she held her ground for a moment before lashing out. “That was not a nice thing to do to me at work.”
Zane’s eyebrow rose sharply. “Neither was throwing a frame at my head.”
She’d regretted throwing the frame the second it had left her hand. “I know, and I’m sorry, but you’ve been lying to me since the day we met.”
Zane took a step back. “I could’ve lost an eye because of your temper.”
She clamped her jaw, trying to keep said temper in check. “I said I was sorry.”
Zane turned away and headed for the kitchen. “I didn’t want anyone to think I owned those heels.”
“Nice change of subject,” she muttered, reluctantly following and hating every step she took. “You could have thrown them away. I don’t want them back.”
He stopped and spun around, only a breath between them. “Well, you have them now.”
Deadlocked. Neither gave an inch. Neither looked away.
Heat flushed her neck. With anger or something else? “So, who’s dying?”
“No one.” His warm breath reached her cheeks and made her dizzy.
She quirked an eyebrow. “More lies?”
“Christ!” It was the first sign of a crack in his armour. “I needed you here today.”
“Why?”
His gaze dropped. “Truce first.”
“Like hell.”
Before she could grasp together her next words in this slinging match, he’d reached out and gently tucked his hand behind her neck. In an instant, she was brushed up against his chest. His mouth lowered and proclaimed her as his. And yep, this was where she wanted to be. This was where she belonged, and she didn’t shy back. Her tongue slashed across his, satisfied she was the cause of his groan reverberating around them.
When she pulled back, cool air on her wet lips caused her to shiver, and she released the fistful of his shirt. She gasped, taking in all the air she could and swayed. He caught her and tightened his grip around her waist.
“I’m here now. What did you want?”
His hand dropped and she instantly missed its warmth.
“Do you want to stay for dinner? I have a freezer full of precooked meals.”
Aaaarggghh! He was impossible and this was no longer a joke.
“Zane,” she yelled when he turned away and walked towards the small kitchen. “I have better things I could be doing.” Did she? She hissed between drawn lips. “Don’t you dare walk away from me or I’m leaving.”
He disappeared through a doorway. “Come and have dinner, and I’ll tell you who your father is.”
Ella froze, her world tilting on its axis. Seconds ticked by as she stood paralysed, unable to move. When her vision clouded, she reached up and touched her flushed skin. She blew out a series of short breaths and, when a tingling increased in her limbs, recognised the signs of hyperventilation. She made it to the couch just as her legs buckled.
He can’t know. I haven’t given him a name. She rocked from side to side. Her insides refused to stop quivering. If he was lying, she was certain she was capable of harm—or worse.
She burst into tears. She covered her face, trying to hold back the wave washing down her cheeks. Why was Zane doing this? Remorse washed over her. She hadn’t meant to hurl the frame at him. Was she going to pay for that mistake for the rest of her life? And why was she crying again? She’d never cried as much as she had in the past few weeks. She was growing tired of her inability to control her emotions. Where was the strong, fierce and independent girl she used to be? The one her parents had been delighted with as far back as she could remember.
She curled up, unable to give a damn where that girl was. She would give up looking for her, too.
Zane heard a sob, dropped the takeaway container onto the kitchen bench and legged it back to the lounge room.
Jeez, she’s crying? He hadn’t meant for this to happen.
He was ashamed of his antics earlier that day; he hadn’t once considered how highly strung she was and how he shouldn’t have pushed it. Damn it, would he ever stop to think about his actions before barrelling ahead?
“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He slipped her heels off and picked her up. Her tears continued unabated, washing over his arms and dripping onto his shirt. Instead of slowing, sobs heaved from her throat, compounding his guilt. His good-guy meter dived to an all-time low. “Shh, hey, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
In his bedroom, he pulled back the covers of his bed and laid her down. Lying beside her, he swept her hair back while he pressed light kisses on her forehead, giving her time to calm down.
When only the occasional hiccup escaped her soft lips, he lifted his shirt and used it to wipe her face. She looked everywhere but at him.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She shrugged, using his sheet to mop up further. “From the day I thought you’d dumped me, when you were in fact in hospital, everyone’s been mad at me. I thought you were, too, until I learned of the accident. But first I screwed things up at home, which I did royally.”
Zane listened to her recount her sorry tale with regret on his part. Shoot. She really was mixed up and hurting a lot, and her family’s pain was taking its toll. He shouldn’t have been so hard on her. Though his anger at her for throwing a tantrum with the frame was justified, he could see how everything had built up around her.
And he’d missed her. Badly. He tucked her face under his chin and tightened his hold, absorbing as much of her pain and hurt as he could. He needed something to tide him through the uncertain days ahead. No doubt a lot was about to unfold. When he filled her in on what he now knew, he couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t bring more shocks the more clues they unravelled. He had a sense of what waited for her in Boston after reading countless articles. There was no telling how the meeting with her father would go. It could go either way. Good or bad.
She pushed away, piercing him with her watery, red-rimmed eyes. “Do you really know who my father is?”
He nodded. “But I insist we have dinner first. Then I’ll go through everything I’ve learned and how I came to find him.” He held her gaze and willed her to agree to his condition.
She dropped back, nestling into the pillow. “The mysterious friend in the photo is your mother, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but I don’t know how they’re connected yet.”
She rolled to face him and clutched his hand. Squeezing tightly, she asked, “Will you give me one tiny detail before we have dinner? Then I promise to wait.”
Zane debated what to tell her—as part of their truce, she deserved something for his unnecessary behaviour. He lowered his head until his lips touched hers, trying to lose himself in her presence. Her lemon and eucalyptus scent swamped his senses, and the urge to savour every single moment with her was strong. He pulled back a fraction and pinned his gaze on her. “I’m pretty certain you were born in the States. Boston, Massachusetts, in fact.”
Ella gasped, her eyes widening in surprise. “No way. My mother doesn’t have an American accent.”
“Neither does mine, but I think I was born there too. I’ll let you be the judge when I tell you everything. Now,” he made to get up, “do you need to be home any time soon?”
She groaned and covered her face with his pillow, her voice muffled. “Like I said, everyone’s mad at me.”
He tugged on her hand, encouraging her sit up. “I’ll feel better if you send a message telling them you’ll be late. Let’s not make them madder. Also, please don’t say a word to your mother about me. I have a hunch she’ll recognise my name, and I want to uncover all the facts I can first. I’m not sure about you but I want to be absolutely certain about how my mother is connected before I say anything to her. I’m not sure how far back my father fits in, but the last thing I want to do is destroy what I’ve always considered my parents’ perfect marriage.”
Ella discarded the pillow she was hugging and sighed.
“They mean everything to me,” Zane added as he took her hand and helped her off the bed.
She nodded, and he saw complete comprehension on her face. “I get it, Zane, I really do.”
“I’m glad.” He drew her in close. Relief surged through his body as he kissed her closed eyelids. This discussion between them could’ve gone a couple of ways at this point, but so far, it was going okay. “I’ll finish getting dinner ready while you let your family know you’ll be home late.”
Zane trailed his thumb down her arm, leaving goosebumps as she turned and left the bedroom in search of her handbag and phone. While he’d been nervous about how she would react to the news of her father, he was even more anxious to know whether she would forgive him. He didn’t blame her for being distrustful. He’d be the same in her situation. Zane had known all along that he had to tell her about the photo, sooner rather than later, but he’d never imagined she would stumble across the second one in his mother’s house. It’d come as a shock that his plan to keep her away from his mother for as long as was needed had so easily unravelled.