“I promise,” I whisper. “Hurry.”
We hang up and I place my phone back into my purse. Bile crawls up my throat, forcing me to my knees in a quick scramble to reach the toilet on time. I puke up the contents of my stomach, sobbing the whole time. When I’ve purged my system of the horrible dinner, and what I believe to be the drugs I ingested, I finally climb to my feet. I’m just washing my mouth out and splashing water on my face when Sean enters the bathroom.
“You look terrible,” Sean says, frowning. “Want me to call your father? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
I want to scream in his face.
You know what you did!
My lips refuse to move. Tears well and spill out of their own accord. He rushes over to me, wrapping an arm around me. I’m disgusted by his touch.
“Let’s get you out of here. Don’t worry, I already spoke to management that you’d clearly eaten undercooked food or something. They comped our meal, but it doesn’t feel like enough. I’ll be filing a formal complaint later.
He guides me out of the restaurant, past all the curious onlookers. As soon as we make it outdoors, I start dragging my feet.
“You can, uh, just go. I have a ride,” I murmur, unable to meet his hard stare.
“Your father?”
“No, my—”
“Brother,” a deep, familiar voice growls. “Keith Bowden.”
I snap my head up, locking into Zane’s intense green ones. “There you are. See, Sean, my brother is here.”
Sean releases me, his jaw clenching. “I could have gotten you home, sweetheart. You didn’t need to call your brother.”
“It’s fine. I know you have your important case you’re working on. Thanks for dinner.” I force a smile. “Good night, Sean.”
His eyes flicker with barely contained rage. Finally, he bites back whatever he was going to say, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “We’ll have to do it again sometime soon. I cook one helluva steak. Next time, we can dine at my place.”
He stalks off, climbs into his Porsche parked out front, and then zooms away. Zane pounces on me, drawing me into his arms and hugging me tight.
“It’s okay,” he croons. “I’m here now. I’ve got you.”
I cling to him, my tears soaking his shirt. “I don’t feel so good.”
“I know, beautiful. I’m going to take you to the ER.”
“N-No. Just take me home.”
He pulls back to look at me, his palms sliding to my cheeks. “I can’t do that. Not until I know you’re going to be okay. Once I know you’re not going to die on me, I’ll take you home. Trust me?”
“Y-Yes.”
The softness in his stare cuts me deep, burrowing its way into my heart. I don’t know how or why I chose Zane Mullins of all people to connect with, but it’s happening and I’m powerless to stop it.
I feel like whatever’s been brewing between us for months has finally been tapped into. When he touched and kissed me in my office, we crossed a line we can’t come back from. I’m terrified for what could happen, but I’m also relieved. The fantasy come to life feels realer than anything I’ve ever known.
Chapter Four
Zane
“Again,” Dr. Morris says, frowning at Kerry, “if you think you were drugged, you really ought to let me call Sheriff McMahon.”
She stubbornly shakes her head, glowering at me. “Like I told you already. It was the food. I think it’s just a simple case of food poisoning.”
“Your brother disagrees,” Dr. Morris challenges. “Right, Keith?”
Her eyes roll, but she doesn’t correct him. We may have fudged a bit on our relationship so I could come back with her.
“Maybe I’m just too overprotective,” I grumble. “If that’s what she wants to believe, who are we to change that?”
Dr. Morris crosses his arms over his chest, studying her for a beat before glancing my way again. “I trust you won’t let her eat there ever again.”
And with him.
“Never,” I growl, understanding his unspoken words.
Relief floods through him. “Good. The fluids should have flushed any toxins out and since your vitals are good, I feel comfortable discharging you now, Miss Bowden, but make sure you take tomorrow off to rest up.”
It takes forever, but eventually, we’re back in my car and headed to her place. She’s quiet as she motions the directions leading up to her apartment. As soon as we park, she tries to hurry away, but I catch up to her, not willing to let her make the trek alone.
“You rescued me. I’m safe now,” she mutters. “You can go.”
“Nah, beautiful, I’m not done taking care of you yet.”
She doesn’t resist me when I tuck her into my side as we walk. The elevator ride two floors up is uneventful. We make it inside her apartment a few moments later. The floral scent is stronger here and I love it. It’s thick in the air, and like a creep, I inhale it.
“Why don’t you shower and wash up?” I suggest. “I’ll make some tea.”
Rather than arguing, she nods and disappears. I flip the lock on the apartment door and make my way into her kitchen. Everything is neat and orderly. The apartment lacks personality. It makes me wonder what it is Kerry Bowden likes besides pleasing people like her father. I rummage around until I find a kettle. My nanny, Peg, used to make tea for me when I was little and would sob over missing my mother. When Mom left my dad, she left me too. As though I was just as guilty as him for his affair. I was three at the time, so I didn’t understand, and by the time I knew what an affair was, I couldn’t be mad at Dad since he wasn’t the one who left me. It was her.
I’m just filling a couple of teacups with the hot water when Kerry emerges from her room and walks into the kitchen. Stopping to let the teabags steep, I turn to look at her. Long blond hair is wet and combed through. Her face is free of makeup and slightly red around her eyes, which makes me think she cried some more in the shower. Contacts have been replaced by her nerdy black-rimmed librarian glasses that I secretly love when she wears. She’s no longer in her glossy office clothes. No, she’s fucking perfect in black yoga pants and an oversized hoodie that says, “Lost my Focus at Blur.”
“You’re almost too big for my kitchen,” she mutters, shamelessly roaming her gaze up my front.
“Guess you’ll need to move somewhere bigger so I’ll fit.”
She rolls her eyes but smiles as she grabs the milk from the refrigerator. After we fix up our tea, I follow her over to the sofa in the living room. She sits down on one end and doesn’t balk when I plop down beside her.
“You’re full of surprises, Mr. Mullins.” She eyes me over her teacup, the steam fogging up her glasses. “You’re chivalrous and make tea. Who knew?”
“It’s Zane when we’re alone, Kerry. I know what you taste like, remember?”
Color floods her cheeks and she breaks my stare to set her teacup down on the end table. I lean over and do the same. Then, I hug her to me. I’m thankful when she doesn’t resist, instead settling against my side and clinging to my shirt.