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He rubbed his forehead. No, Casey had Jillian.
Zane’s instincts made him damned good at his job … and those instincts assured him the intelligent, tenacious, tenderhearted Ms. Ramsay would be an excellent mother.
Or maybe he was rationalizing.
Acid bitterness stung his mouth. Because the kid was better off with her than with him.
The hair on the back of his neck prickled, and he jerked his gaze sideways to see Jillian striding up the concourse toward him. She’d changed into a candy-apple red sundress that flattered her smooth-as-cream complexion and rosy cheeks. She looked stubbornly determined. She looked furious.
She looked irresistible.
His stomach twisted, every muscle in his body tensed. Goddammit, how had she found him? He’d made his position more than plain. Why didn’t the woman get it?
She stopped in front of his chair, folded her arms across lush breasts and tapped a red-and-white polka-dot sandal. Her toenails sported glittery ruby polish. “You left before we finished our conversation.”
He stood. Moved closer, towering over her. Deliberately crowding her. His body’s leap of awareness surged into an instant hard-on.Shit.
He lasered her with the stare that had intimidated even the most brutal offenders. The unspoken warning had made men twice his size cower. “Wearefinished.”
She didn’t even blink. “Think again.” Her index finger stabbed his sternum, stayed there. “I have more to say, and you’re going to listen, Champ.”
Well hell.Big bad alpha wolf didn’t faze Ms. Jillian Ramsay. He took another step closer. She held her ground. Why didn’t she surrender, step back?
The heat from her skin taunted his senses, surrounded him with the exotic scent of patchouli and warm, willing woman. The remaining blood drained out of his head, rushing south. Concise objections knotted up. Instead of setting her straight, he stood there more tongue-tied than a pimply freshman nerd star-struck by the head cheerleader.
Her hand relaxed on his chest, his heartbeat drumming wildly beneath her warm palm. “Zane?”
He shook his head, attempting to force his blitzed brain back on track. Meeting Casey must have knocked him farther off balance than he’d realized. His concentration wasn’t easily flushed down the crapper. It had happened maybe twice in ten years.
Neverover a woman.
“It’s okay.” Her voice went tender. “I know finding out about Deb and Casey upset you. Honest emotions are nothing to be ashamed of.”
Those dangerous emotions had been drilled out of him before he’d hit puberty. Lust had him twisted into a pretzel, that’s all.
He stared into Jillian’s eyes. High-voltage awareness crackled across the scant inches separating their bodies. His heart leapt under the compelling heat from her hand.
Surely she could feel the super-charged atoms colliding between them.
Needing to know, he covered her hand resting on his chest, enfolded her fingers in his. He slid his thumb across her palm and up over her wrist. Her breath caught, and under his thumb, her pulse rabbited.
Yeah. She felt it, all right.
Ensnared in her gaze, his ability to make rational decisions fled. His hand refused his brain’s order to let her go.
Those remarkable violet irises darkened as her pupils dilated. Her whispered breath feathered over his mouth, mere inches away. Zane’s attention riveted on her lips. Pink. Plump. So soft, so temptingly sweet—sweeter than the cookies he’d longed to try but had denied himself.
Obeying the dark, primal need, he tugged her closer. Their bodies brushed, the whisper of clothing and sensual friction enticingly erotic in the quiet corner.
He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything. Wanted her so damned bad that a shock of terror chilled him to the marrow.
Jesus Christ, was he going insane?
Stunned, Zane did something he hadn’t done since he was ten years old.
He gave ground.
Pulse pounding a painful tattoo that throbbed clear to his toes, he backed down first. Dropping Jillian’s hand, he stepped away from her.
