with an effort. It was only as the statement echoed down the phone into silence that he realised what he’d said—and the possessive way in which he’d said it.
‘So I take it you got the proof you wanted?’ came Zane’s sober reply.
No, he hadn’t. Why didn’t that seem to matter any more?
‘Can you come or not?’ Nate replied, not wanting to have this conversation in front of Tess.
There was another long pause, before Zane replied, ‘Sure, I’m near Daly City, shouldn’t take me more than thirty.’
Nate felt an unpleasant tickle in the back of his throat at the eagerness in Zane’s voice.
‘This is one lady I want to meet,’ his friend added.
Nate coughed, the unpleasant tickle firing up the back of his neck. ‘Actually, Zane, forget it, you don’t need to...’ But before he could finish, he was listening to a dial tone.
‘Can he come?’ Tess asked.
‘Yeah,’ Nate said, stuffing the phone back into his pocket and pushing aside the vivid recollection of the waitress’s face two weeks ago in Murphy’s bar when she’d got her first good glimpse of Zane.
This was dumb. Zane might have a face that had women hitting on him in bars, but Nate had never envied the attention he got. Up till now, Zane’s extraordinary effect on women had never bothered him a bit. Call him old-fashioned, but he’d rather be the hunter than the prey.
But the thought of Tess’s eyes clouding over with lust, the thought of her gaze devouring his friend the same way she’d just devoured him, was bothering him big time.
The unease settled in the pit of his stomach.
‘Let’s get you down to the cottage,’ he said brusquely. ‘You could probably use a drink of water.’
He touched her cheek, gratified when her eyes darkened again despite the exhaustion. ‘And the place has air conditioning—you look hot.’ In more ways than one, he thought as her little huff made her breasts rise under the tight-
fitting T-shirt.
‘How long will your friend take to get here?’
‘A while,’ Nate replied, masking his irritation at the enquiry. ‘By the way, do me a favour when you meet him.’
‘What?’
‘Don’t drool.’
‘Excuse me?’ she said as her brow wrinkled in confusion.
‘Zane’s a good-looking guy,’ he said grudgingly, keeping his hand anchored to her hip as they headed down the driveway.
She shifted round, dislodging his hand. ‘If you don’t mind, I’ve never drooled over a man in my life.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Yes, yeah,’ she said, looking affronted.
He lifted a sceptical eyebrow. ‘So what were you doing when I got out of the pool? Impersonating a guppy?’
‘I... That’s not...’ Her face flushed from pink to vermillion. ‘How remarkably conceited of you.’
‘But I don’t hear you denying it,’ he said, not sure why he was goading her. Or why her flustered reaction was making the queasy feeling ease off.
‘Oh, for Pete’s sake, stop boasting and show me the cottage.’ Swinging round, she marched off down the driveway. ‘And I’ll do my best to resist the urge to impersonate a guppy again.’
* * *
The infernal man.
Tess stalked down the driveway, adding exhaustion to indignation and sexual frustration.
How could he be so crass as to mention the way she’d looked at him by the pool? Right after announcing in the middle of a phone conversation with his friend that she was the mother of his child. It was almost as if he were trying to knock her off balance every chance he got.
Rounding a towering oleander bush thick with showy white blooms, she came to an abrupt stop, her indignation faltering at the sight of the large one-storey hacienda-style building. Pink stone steps led up to an imposing wooden front door studded with brass and matched the terracotta tiles on the sloping roof. Intricate plasterwork and latticed windows added the same rococo flourishes as the main house.
If that was a cottage, she was Cinderella’s fairy godmother.
She jumped as a warm palm
‘So I take it you got the proof you wanted?’ came Zane’s sober reply.
No, he hadn’t. Why didn’t that seem to matter any more?
‘Can you come or not?’ Nate replied, not wanting to have this conversation in front of Tess.
There was another long pause, before Zane replied, ‘Sure, I’m near Daly City, shouldn’t take me more than thirty.’
Nate felt an unpleasant tickle in the back of his throat at the eagerness in Zane’s voice.
‘This is one lady I want to meet,’ his friend added.
Nate coughed, the unpleasant tickle firing up the back of his neck. ‘Actually, Zane, forget it, you don’t need to...’ But before he could finish, he was listening to a dial tone.
‘Can he come?’ Tess asked.
‘Yeah,’ Nate said, stuffing the phone back into his pocket and pushing aside the vivid recollection of the waitress’s face two weeks ago in Murphy’s bar when she’d got her first good glimpse of Zane.
This was dumb. Zane might have a face that had women hitting on him in bars, but Nate had never envied the attention he got. Up till now, Zane’s extraordinary effect on women had never bothered him a bit. Call him old-fashioned, but he’d rather be the hunter than the prey.
But the thought of Tess’s eyes clouding over with lust, the thought of her gaze devouring his friend the same way she’d just devoured him, was bothering him big time.
The unease settled in the pit of his stomach.
‘Let’s get you down to the cottage,’ he said brusquely. ‘You could probably use a drink of water.’
He touched her cheek, gratified when her eyes darkened again despite the exhaustion. ‘And the place has air conditioning—you look hot.’ In more ways than one, he thought as her little huff made her breasts rise under the tight-
fitting T-shirt.
‘How long will your friend take to get here?’
‘A while,’ Nate replied, masking his irritation at the enquiry. ‘By the way, do me a favour when you meet him.’
‘What?’
‘Don’t drool.’
‘Excuse me?’ she said as her brow wrinkled in confusion.
‘Zane’s a good-looking guy,’ he said grudgingly, keeping his hand anchored to her hip as they headed down the driveway.
She shifted round, dislodging his hand. ‘If you don’t mind, I’ve never drooled over a man in my life.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Yes, yeah,’ she said, looking affronted.
He lifted a sceptical eyebrow. ‘So what were you doing when I got out of the pool? Impersonating a guppy?’
‘I... That’s not...’ Her face flushed from pink to vermillion. ‘How remarkably conceited of you.’
‘But I don’t hear you denying it,’ he said, not sure why he was goading her. Or why her flustered reaction was making the queasy feeling ease off.
‘Oh, for Pete’s sake, stop boasting and show me the cottage.’ Swinging round, she marched off down the driveway. ‘And I’ll do my best to resist the urge to impersonate a guppy again.’
* * *
The infernal man.
Tess stalked down the driveway, adding exhaustion to indignation and sexual frustration.
How could he be so crass as to mention the way she’d looked at him by the pool? Right after announcing in the middle of a phone conversation with his friend that she was the mother of his child. It was almost as if he were trying to knock her off balance every chance he got.
Rounding a towering oleander bush thick with showy white blooms, she came to an abrupt stop, her indignation faltering at the sight of the large one-storey hacienda-style building. Pink stone steps led up to an imposing wooden front door studded with brass and matched the terracotta tiles on the sloping roof. Intricate plasterwork and latticed windows added the same rococo flourishes as the main house.
If that was a cottage, she was Cinderella’s fairy godmother.
She jumped as a warm palm
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