Page 50 of Zane

He narrowed his eyes at her obvious ploy. "That's not going to work. I like them well enough, but there's no way in hell I'm taking you to that bar. Those are some pretty rough individuals who are not used to beautiful women like you. They'd probably start a bloody fight."

"You'll be there to protect me." Her lips curved into a sweet smile that tangled his heartstrings. Every female must have been born with the instinct to seduce and manipulate, because she was doing a damn decent job of it.

"I'm only one man. And why would you want to go to a place like that anyway?" His eyes narrowed into slits. "Unless it's to piss off your mother even more. I don't appreciate being used. I understand you're hurting, but this is not the way to get back at her."

Her smile collapsed, making him feel like pond scum.

Without a word, she pushed away from the table and started clearing it.

"Kara-"

"I'm fine." Dragging her hand from under his, she carried the piles of dishes to the sink and started rinsing them out and stacking the dishwasher.

Swearing softly, he shoved to his feet and went to stand behind her. Her shoulders were as rigid as boulders, making him feel even worse.

"I'm sorry."

"It's all right."

"No, dammit, it's not." He spun her around, eyes smoldering. "I don't want to put that look on your face."

"What look?"

"That injured and defeated look that breaks me in two." His hand lifted to cup her cheek. "I want to erase all the hurt and pain you've been through, not add to them. The bar is somewhere I go, just to chill. The owner is a friend of mine. The others are just acquaintances. They resent me but cannot do anything about it because of my friendship with Big Thunder."

He smiled slightly. "He insists on being addressed like that, even by me." He moved his thumb over her smooth cheek. "It's a place where fights break out at the drop of a hat. Tempers run hot. I usually distance myself from the drama. I would hang out and drink a beer or two, watch a game, and then split."

"I offer my services as a lawyer and dispense advice. It started out that way because I wanted to pull my parents' chains and beat against the system and society I belong to. But Paul Grant, that's his name, saved my life." He cradled her face, his hands gentle. "I was in a crash two years ago and ended up in a ditch. The driver of the SUV ran me off the road and kept right on going."

"Paul saw the whole thing and stopped to lend a hand. I would have bled to death if he hadn't been there. So for that, I owe him." He bent to brush his lips on hers. "I cannot take you there. Paul is the only one who means a damn to me, and if you want to meet him, I could invite him for dinner over at my place."

He touched her cheek, amazed anew that he could not keep his hands off her. "We should go out to dinner. A fancy restaurant. We, I mean the family, own or have interests in a few. Garden Retreat over on Main Street."

He skimmed his knuckles over her cheek. "They offer the best lobster Thermidor I've ever tasted. We dress up." He traced her bottom lip and had her belly jumping. "I'll even wear a jacket."

She couldn't think. He was doing things to her that were making her weak. Her brain was getting muddled, and her knees were rubbery. But she managed to shake her head. "I can't."

His movements stopped as he stared at her. "Can't or won't? I'm asking you out on a date, in case you misunderstood."

"I know." She had to take a step back. Her mother's words were haunting her. She had fallen asleep with them on her mind and woken up reliving and replaying every nasty, vile thing she had said. She had started this as a game of defiance.

She was an adult, wasn't she? She had never broken the rules. She had never had a speeding ticket, because she stuck to the speed limit. She had never stolen a thing in her life, not once, and she would never dream of taking a sweet. She had never entertained thoughts of violence. She had always been a good girl.

Then she had decided that it wasn't worth it and had broken from the mold big time. She had given her innocence to a man her mother would never accept. And what was worse, she was drawn to him. It was no longer a game.

Zane watched the play of emotions on her face and wondered if she knew that everything she was thinking was there for him to see.

"This is going too fast." She moved away, and he let her, a cold feeling settling inside his chest.

"I see." Folding his hands over his chest, he leaned back against the sink, his expression carefully neutral. "What do you want from me, Kara? Be specific."

She fiddled with the bunch of fruits on the counter and plucked a dead leaf from the vase of peonies and baby's breath she had put there two days ago.

"I don't know," she told him honestly.

"I see," he repeated as he watched her. "Is it just sex? Am I just an experiment? A way to get back at that spineless jerk you were involved with, or your mother?"

"What?" She jerked her hand back from moving the bowl of fruit from the center. "No!" Closing her eyes briefly, she turned away from him and wandered over to the window. "I don't know how I feel."