He took his hand off the stick, the need to comfort her surprising, but he went with it. She sounded so hopeless. He squeezed her knee. ‘But you know it wasn’t, right?’
Was that why she had fallen victim to Demarest so easily? And why she’d jumped to the conclusion this evening that Maria was one of his lovers? Because of some seed planted years ago in her childhood? Being unwanted was a bitch. It could play hell with your self-esteem; he ought to know. He figured he should probably say something reassuring…But then the scent of her, fresh and sultry, drifted across the car, and his gut tightened.
Better not go there. He wanted her and all this serious talk was casting a spell over the evening, making them both reveal more than they probably should.
‘I’m sorry I made things so uncomfortable between you and your family,’ she said around another jaw-breaking yawn.
Uncomfortable? His heart-rate did a quick skip at the perceptive comment. ‘I’m the one who should be sorry,’ he said, careful to keep his voice light. ‘I had no business dragging you along.’
‘I liked your family, especially your mother.’
He heard it then, the slight censure in her tone—and realised that she had noticed more than his uncomfortable relationship with Maria.
He rolled his shoulders, forcing himself to relax, and forget about it. Her observations, her opinion didn’t matter, their fling wasn’t serious—and she’d never have to meet his family again. He’d make sure of it.
‘Do you mind if I have a nap?’ she said, her voice groggy with fatigue. ‘It’s been an eventful night.’
‘Sure, go ahead. It’ll take about an hour to get back.’
He checked on her a few moments later as they hit Highway One. Curled in the seat, she’d drifted off into a sound sleep.
He’d forgotten to mention that they were headed back to his place and not hers. But he figured she’d find out soon enough. And he’d deal with any fall-out then. He wasn’t going to push anything tonight, he could see how tired she was, but he didn’t want her out of his sight for too long either. She’d been through the wringer at Maricruz’s party. And that was mostly his fault. He should have introduced her to Maria, instead of running scared.
But as the car sped down the coast highway it occurred to him that, however casual their fling was supposed to be, something had changed tonight. Something about Iona pulled at him. Her honesty, her vulnerability, that prickly demeanor she used to hide her insecurities. It reminded him of the kid he’d once been a little too forcefully.
He stretched his neck from side to side as the muscles cramped. He felt protective of Iona—which probably wasn’t a good thing. Because whenever he’d got protective in the past, it had generally been a disaster.
He shifted in his seat, the dull ache in his back reminding him of the two wounds that had signalled his exit from the LAPD five years before. He switched on the car’s radio, let the pain and confusion from that time in his life slowly drift away on the seductive bass riff of the old soul song.
He was over-thinking. The only reason things had got heavy tonight was because he’d taken her somewhere he didn’t feel comfortable.
And while he might feel protective of Iona, he didn’t have to feel that way. She was a grown woman, who could take care of herself. She’d certainly proved that tonight. A wry smile lifted his lips at the intoxicating memory of her pale skin flushed crimson with fury as she stalked across the dance floor to confront him while he danced with his mother.
He pressed his foot onto the gas pedal, in a hurry to get home. This was still a casual fling—and he could prove it, because when they got back to his place he wasn’t going to pounce on her like a starving man.
‘Hey, precios, we’re here. You want me to carry you in?’
Iona moved her head and caught the strong scent of sea air as the question drifted through the fog of sleep. ‘Hmm?’
‘Guess I’ll carry you, then. Hold on.’
Her lids fluttered open as her stomach became weightless and she found herself being boosted into Zane’s arms. The night air closed around them and she held on to his neck to stop herself from falling. The sound of surf and the cry of a nocturnal seagull had her squinting at the huge wood and glass structure that rose up out of a sand dune. ‘Where are we?’
‘My place. Figured it would be easier to stay here tonight.’
‘But I…’ she began, knowing she should probably object, but it felt good to be held.
‘But nothing,’ he said. ‘You were exhausted. My place was closer.’
He shifted her in his arms to key a code into the door panel, then shoved open the front door and carried her through the darkened house.
‘Relax, Iona,’ he said, giving her a soft kiss on the forehead. ‘This place has five bedrooms. I’m not planning on jumping you tonight.’
‘Oh, okay.’ Well, heck, she hadn’t intended to object quite that much.
They passed the door to a vast open-plan kitchen, the low lighters illuminating dark marble surfaces and blonde wood cabinets, then entered a double-height living room that had a glass wall leading onto a wide terraced deck. A lighted pathway led off the terrace and out into the darkness.
‘You live by the sea?’ she said.