Lisa Jackson - Obsession

“He must do just as you say.”

Zane’s teeth flashed in the soft light. “That’s about the size of it.”

Kaylie was caught up in the romantic mood of the old house with its wainscoted walls and flickering sconces. A fire glowed in the grate and no one else was seated in the small room, though there were four other tables near the windows.

“How’d you arrange this?” she asked, finishing her second—or was it her third?—glass of wine. Pinpoints of light reflected against the crystal.

“Arrange what?”

She motioned to the empty room. “The privacy.”

“Oh, connections,” he said offhandedly, and she was reminded again of how powerful he’d become as his security business had taken off and his clientele had expanded to the rich and famous. He’d opened an office that catered to Beverly Hills, another to Hollywood, as well as San Francisco, Portland, Seattle and on and on. In seven years his business had prospered, as if he’d thrown himself body and soul into the company after their divorce.

He refilled her glass. “I thought we should be alone.” “What? No bodyguards? No private investigators?” she teased, then regretted her sarcasm when his eyes darkened.

“I think we should declare a truce.”

“Is that possible for divorced people?” she asked, and watched as he twisted his wineglass in his fingers.

“Mature divorced people.”

“Oh, well, we’re that, aren’t we? And I guess you’re bodyguard enough, right?” She sipped the wine and felt a languid sleepiness run through her blood. Maybe she should slow down on the claret. It was just that she was so nervous around him. Her muscles relaxed, and she slumped lower in her chair, eyeing him over the rim of her glass. He was so handsome, so erotically male, so…dangerous to be around.

The waiter cleared their plates and brought coffee. He offered dessert, but both Zane and Kaylie declined.

“Well,” she said as Zane reached into his wallet for his credit card, “don’t forget the keys.”

“The what?”

“Your end of the bargain. The keys to my house.”

“Oh, right.” He dropped his credit card on the tray, then reached into his pocket and withdrew a key ring from which he extracted two keys. He slid them across the table. “There you go. Front door and garage.”

She could hardly believe it as she plopped the keys into her wallet. “No strings attached?”

Something flickered in his eyes, but quickly disappeared. “No strings.”

Kaylie felt a twinge of remorse for thinking so little of him. Why couldn’t she open her heart and trust him—just a little? Because she couldn’t trust herself around him, she thought with realistic fatalism.

They walked outside and into a balmy night. The sky had darkened, and jewel-like stars winked high over the mountains. Zane opened the Jeep door for Kaylie, and Franklin hopped onto the passenger seat, growling as Zane ordered him into the back.

“You’re in his space,” Zane explained. The dog jumped nimbly into the back seat, but his dark eyes followed Kaylie’s every move as she climbed inside.

“I don’t know if that’s so safe.”

“He’s fine. He likes you.”

“Oh, right.”

Once back on the road, Zane switched on the radio, and the soft music, coupled with the drone of the engine and the security of being with Zane again made Kaylie feel a contentment she hadn’t experienced in years.

Drowsy from the wine, she leaned her head against the window and glimpsed his profile through the sweep of her curling, dark lashes. His hair brushed his collar, his eyes squinted into the darkness as he drove, staring through the windshield.

The road serpentined through dark forests of pine. Every once in a while the trees receded enough to allow a low-hanging moon to splash a silvery glow over the mountainside.

Kaylie leaned back against the leather seat and closed her eyes. The notes of a familiar song, popular during the short span of their marriage, drifted through the speaker. She punched a button on the radio and classical music filled the interior of the Jeep. That was better. No memories here. She’d just let the music carry her away. Her muscles relaxed, and she sighed heavily, not intending to doze off.

But she did. On a cloud of wine and warmth she drifted out of consciousness.

* * *

Furtively, his palms sweating, Zane watched her from the corner of his eye. He noticed that her jaw and arms slackened and her breasts rose and fell in even, deep breaths.

Ten minutes passed. She didn’t stir. It’s now or never, he thought as he approached the intersection. Turning off the main road and heading into the mountains, he guided the car eastward.

There was a chance she’d end up hating him for his deception and high-handedness, but it was a chance he had to take. He frowned into the darkness, his eyes on the two-lane highway that cut through the dark stands of pine and redwood. Don’t wake up, he thought as the seconds ticked by and the miles passed much too slowly.

It took nearly an hour to reach the old logging road, but he slowed, rounded a sharp corner and shifted down. From here on in, the lane—barely more than two dirt ruts with a spray of gravel—was rough. It angled up the mountain in sharp switchbacks.

He drove slowly, but not slowly enough. Before he’d gone two miles, Kaylie stirred.

The Jeep hit a rock and shimmied and she started. Stretching and swallowing back a yawn, she blinked, her brows knit in concentration. “Where are we?”

“Not in Carmel yet.”

“I guess not,” she said, rotating the crick out of her shoulders and neck as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. “What is this—a park?”

“Nope.”

“Zane?”

He heard her turn toward him. The air was suddenly charged. For a few seconds all he heard was the thrum of the engine and the strains of some familiar concerto on the radio.

Finally she whispered, “We’re not going back to Carmel, are we?”

No reason to lie any longer. “No.”

“No?”

When he didn’t answer, pure anger sparkled in her eyes. “I knew it! I knew it!” she shouted. “I should have never trusted you!” She flopped back in the seat. “Kaylie, you idiot!” she ranted, outraged. “After all he’s done to you, you trust him!”

Zane’s heart twisted.

She skewered him with a furious glare. “Okay, Zane, just where are you taking me?”

“To my weekend place.”

“In the boonies?”

“Right.” He nodded crisply.

“But you don’t have—”

“You don’t know what I have now, do you?” he threw back at her. “In the past seven years I’ve acquired a few new things.”

“A mountain cabin? It’s hardly your style.”

“Maybe you don’t know what my style is anymore.”

“Then I guess I’ll find out, won’t I? I can hardly wait,” she muttered, her eyes thinning in fury. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and waited, then quietly, her voice trembling with rage, she asked, “Why?”

“Because you won’t listen to reason.”

“I don’t understand.”

“We’re talking about your life, damn it. And you were going to go on as if nothing had happened, as if this—” he reached into his pocket and extracted the tape “—doesn’t exist! Well, it does, damn it, and until I find out if there’s any reason to believe ‘Ted,’ I’m going to make sure you’re safe.”

“You’re what? How?” she asked, though she was beginning to understand. “I think you’d better stop this rig and turn it around, right now,” she ground out.

“No way.”

“I’m warning you, if you don’t take me home, I’ll file charges against you for kidnapping!”