The jolt of shame hit harder as he recalled the look on Nate’s face last week when his friend had asked him to be Bran’s godfather, and he’d come up with some lie about not being all that into kids.
Nate had been shocked and saddened but had remained silent. And Zane hadn’t had the guts to tell him the real reason he couldn’t be Bran’s godfather.
He was into kids, especially Nate’s kid; Bran fascinated him. He could still recall the staggering feeling, tinged with awe, when he’d arrived at the maternity hospital last April and this tiny perfect bundle of humanity had been cradled in Nate’s arms. But as Bran had grown, seeing him had
brought back echoes of the quiet all-consuming rage that had dogged his every step as a teenager and been kept so carefully contained as an adult.
Brandon was another child with Harrison Graystone’s eyes. And that meant Zane couldn’t bear to spend too much time with the boy.
He straightened, his shoulders screaming with tension. The sun beating down on him through the car window did nothing to melt the fury and disgust settling in his gut like a block of ice.
His mother didn’t know, would never know, how much he already knew about his father, Harrison Graystone. And he would never let her know, because she’d already suffered enough. So until he found a better strategy for avoiding the conversation she seemed determined to have with him about Nate, and Bran and his father, he was forced to avoid her calls instead.
He turned on the transmission and cranked up the AC. But as the clammy sweat dried on his brow he pressed his foot on the gas, speeding back to his house on the bay. Because he knew only one thing would chase away the chill.
Iona.
Sinking into her hot, wet flesh, hearing her broken sobs as she fisted around him would make it all go away—for another day.
C.D.’s sudden barks from the hallway had Iona juggling the lasagne. Her heart rate jumped as she heard the low murmur of Zane’s voice and the front door slamming.
And then her heart stopped completely as he walked into the kitchen. How could she not have noticed how seeing his face still took her breath away even now? But then she noticed the creases at the corners of his eyes as he slung his briefcase onto the countertop and the deep grooves around his mouth. He looked shattered.
‘Hey, honey, I’m home,’ he said with a grim smile.
The dog jumped to prop her paws on his waist, but instead of making a fuss of her, as he usually did, he gave her an impatient shove. ‘C.D., will you quit that now?’
C.D. returned to her basket, her tail drooping almost comically. But Iona wasn’t laughing. Seemed she wasn’t the only one who’d had a disturbing day.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.
Strong fingers curled around her wrist and he hauled her towards him. ‘Nothing you can’t fix.’
He wrapped his arms around her in a hard hug, buried his face in her hair and took a deep breath. But tension vibrated through him as his palms cupped her bottom.
The rush of lust stemmed the panic as she felt the familiar weight of his erection. She hugged him back, absorbed the delicious spicy scent.
Sex was easy. Simple. and it would make her forget her cartwheeling tummy.
The long firm muscles of his back rippled through his shirt as she ran her hands down his spine and felt the steady punch of his heartbeat against her ear.
‘Supper smells terrific,’ he murmured, framing her face in rough palms. ‘But I don’t want food right now. I want you.’
‘Then we’re in luck,’ she said as she let all her worries about how attached she was getting be consumed by the insistent arousal. ‘Because I know how to reheat it.’
The rumble of his laughter made her heart leap painfully and then his lips covered hers. Making her forget everything but the touch, the taste, the scent of him.
He plunged his tongue into her mouth, his fingers moulding her buttocks, then fumbling with the button on her shorts. He swore and the button released. Searching fingers cupped her sex through her panties, making her swell against his hand.
‘Zane, wait.’ She pressed her hand over his to still the exploration, more than a little shaky. Sex was simple, so why did this suddenly feel like anything but?
‘Why?’ he demanded. ‘You’re soaking wet.’
‘I know, it’s…’ She glanced over her shoulder, looking for a way to slow him down until she’d got the foolish vulnerability under control. And saw the dog watching their actions with big soulful eyes.
‘We should take this upstairs,’ she said. ‘C.D.’s over there.’
‘She’s a dog, not a child,’ he said, the tone sharp, but he dragged his hand out of her shorts.