Finding Zoe (Atlantic Divide) (7 page)

BOOK: Finding Zoe (Atlantic Divide)
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“Mum?”

“Ryan?”

Ryan chewed his lip, glanced at Mac and down at his plate, pushing a cherry tomato around with his fork.

“Week after next is Parents’ Job Week—on the Tuesday.”

Zoe’s heart trembled; she knew what it was, she’d done it last year. She’d turned up with a few animals and explained what a vet did for a living. It took twenty minutes and the kids had loved it. She didn’t particularly.

Unfortunately, she knew it wasn’t her he wanted.

“I said Cormack Blunt would come.”

Silence panned out until Zoe couldn’t bear it any longer. She looked at Mac’s closed face and raised both eyebrows, trying to will him to understand what Ryan wanted. How important it was.

“I’m afraid I can’t, Ryan. I’ll be tied up filming all day.”

Zoe’s chest squeezed as she saw the crestfallen look on her son’s face. She placed her knife and fork down with shaky hands and smiled tightly.

“Perhaps I can fill in.”

Ryan’s eyebrows pulled low over his forehead and his bottom lip pouted, looking too much like Mac for comfort.

“Thanks. But it won’t be the same.” He chewed his cheek. “Please may I leave the table?”

She thought it would look too obvious if she gave Mac a swift kick, but she really wanted to.

“Yes. Have you done your homework?” Ryan shook his head, his sullen mouth downturned. “Bring it to the table and settle down. Mac will be going now so you can concentrate.” Her heart ached as she watched Ryan drag his feet across the kitchen and pick up his schoolbag. All he wanted to do was boast about who his father was because so far no one believed him. Some of the kids were starting to tease him because of his insistence that Cormack Blunt was his dad. The fact everyone knew Cormack Blunt was filming in the area just seemed to prove it was a ten-year-old’s overactive and hopeful imagination.

She found she couldn’t look at Mac. It wasn’t his fault; he obviously had no idea of the significance, but she still wanted to beat him senseless.

“Hey kid…Ryan, look, I’m sorry, okay. I’m real busy now.” Gratified to see at least he seemed a little guilty, she tried desperately not to interfere.

“S’no biggie.”

“Huh?”

“He means it’s not a big deal. Don’t worry.”

“Oh.” It didn’t look like Mac was going to move anytime soon, and as Zoe stood to stack the plates, she noticed the small frown line between his eyebrows similar to her son’s.

“Can I help with your homework? Do you have math?”

Ryan snorted and flung his bag on the table. “You speak funny sometimes. It’s numeracy.” He tipped the books out of his bag and pushed a blue one toward Mac, smiling as he sat next to him, apparently already over his disappointment.

“Well, it’s a damned long way to say math.”

She felt herself smiling until she glanced at her father, who watched them with a cool, steady eye.

By the time she’d dealt with the dishes and her dad had put them away, Ryan had finished his homework. Zoe sent him upstairs for a shower before bedtime, but his granddad’s quiet offer to read a story caused her a moment’s concern as Ryan hesitated. His eyes flicked to Mac, and as he opened his mouth to speak, she stepped in.

“I’ll move my Jeep. It’s blocking your car in. I’m sure you need to get off now.”

Ryan gave a weary sigh and, shepherded by his grandfather, reluctantly dragged his oversize feet up the stairs.

“You want me to go?” Mac stepped up close, his huge chest blocking her way, his dark eyes intense.

“I assume now Ryan has gone to bed, you would want to. You came to visit him. There’s no reason for you to stay any longer.” She nervously linked her fingers together and then quickly stopped, realizing what a dead giveaway it was.

Mac reached out and twirled one of her wild red curls around his finger.

“Zoe, I have a little problem.” He tucked the curl behind her ear and smiled as it sprang back out again. She couldn’t speak. The man had stolen her voice with one act of tenderness.

Ryan’s footsteps thundered above; the old floorboards creaked and groaned as he charged along the landing into the bathroom and slammed the door.

“Why don’t we walk, and I’ll tell you what it is.” She chewed the inside of her cheek, let him take her hand and persuade her out of the house. They walked in silence; the warmth from his hand heated her entire body until she couldn’t bear it any longer.

“Mac.” She pulled up just as they reached his car, tried to disengage her fingers from his, but he held on, his grip firm. She needed to distance herself from him, so she kept her voice cool. “Do you want to explain to me what your problem is?”

Meeting her eyes, he stared at her for so long she wondered if he was ever going to speak. His eyebrows had lowered, and he had a small line showing between them again, as though he was really concentrating on something.

“Mac?” He was starting to make her feel uncomfortable with his intensity.

“You.”

“Me?” Her heart lurched as she blinked slowly, her mind unable to grasp what he meant.

“Yeah, you.” His voice was a low seduction “You’re my problem.” He stepped forward, and as she retreated, her back came up against the side of the car.

He lifted her hand, never taking his eyes off her as he touched his firm lips against her knuckles and placed a light kiss on them, making her knees instantly weak. He shouldn’t be allowed so much power over a simple human being.

“I am?” Conscious of the slight warble in her voice, she tugged at her hand again, but there was still no give. She swallowed and waited.

“Like you didn’t know it.” He smiled, wide and wolfish as he moved in closer, blocking her body with his. He released her hand and raised his to cup the side of her head, his fingers threading through her hair. “You’re my problem…” he repeated, his voice husky and low. “Because I can’t get you out of my mind. Since yesterday, my body doesn’t seem to be able to forget you, either.”

Her eyes widened as she stared up at him. He lowered his head and placed tender kisses across her cheek until he reached the shell of her ear. The tip of his hot tongue followed the line of it, gently dipped in and sent her pulse skittering, and a pool of warmth gathered in the pit of her stomach.

“You gave me such a hard-on…” Shocked, her head snapped back, but his hand, covering it, stopped her from moving far. She pulled a deep breath in, but there was nowhere else to go as he slid his hand to the back of her neck and massaged her muscles, making them weak and malleable. Shivers of anticipation danced down her spine. “I walked real strange for the rest of the day.” He brushed his warm lips down her throat and back up to her ear again as though he couldn’t get enough of that particular morsel, his low murmurs designed to tempt. “I had to tell everyone I’d caught myself in the harness when I dropped off the tower.”

He ran his tongue along the outer rim of her ear, down to the lobe, and nipped gently. Her stomach spasmed in response, liquid heat spreading rapidly. Her hands automatically reached out and held onto the sides of his waist to steady herself. “’Course no one believed me…” he whispered, his voice a slow seduction, “’cos my dick was poking out the front of my pants half the day.” She gulped at his crudity, knew she should pull back, but as his teeth nibbled their way delicately along her jawline, her will deserted her.

Her head told her he was deliberately trying to shock her and she should push him away, but her knees had turned to water and she thought it was probably a good idea she was pressed against the car so she didn’t simply slide to the ground at his feet.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Brain still struggling for control, she felt the need to protest.

“Nor me. Let’s have sex.”

She raised her hand to push against his chest, but he caught it in his own larger one, pulled her tight so her body was plastered against his; every curve, every dip fit against him. A low moan rumbled through his chest.

He touched a gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“You know, I realized yesterday we still have it. The attraction. The passion.” He adjusted her fit, pressed his heat against her stomach, and skimmed his mouth over hers. He captured her lips with his own gentle, persuasive ones. Her heart skipped a beat and then thundered in hot pursuit of her pulse. “We used to be good together.” He dipped and teased, making her mouth chase his, and then just as she thought he was about to retreat again, he dived back in and took her lips with a passion that sucked the breath out of her leaving her weak and limp.

In the blink of an eye, he went from slow and persuasive to red-hot. His arms encircled her, molding her curves to fit tight against him, lifting her up so her feet dangled above the ground, and his hard length nestled against her softness. In self-defense, she raised her own arms and wrapped them around his wide neck, her fingers stroking the warm skin there, feeling every muscle, every sinew.

Lost in him, she allowed him free rein, and as he pinned her body against the vehicle with his, he freed his hands and let them roam. She tipped her head back, vaguely aware the purring sound she could hear had come from her own throat. She gave up on any idea of control as he slipped his warm hand down her bra, held her breast in his palm, and squeezed.

White-hot lust shot through her veins straight to her womb, making her sob with desperation as she returned his kisses tenfold, squirming in his arms to get closer, writhing her hips sinuously against his so she could feel his hot, hard erection as it pushed into her welcoming flesh. Desperate, she tangled her hands in his short, raven hair and hauled him in tight, moaning his name as his mouth left hers to blaze a trail down her throat. His warm breath heated her skin, and his fingers worked magic on her breast.

“Let me fuck you, baby.”

And just like that, reality slapped her in the face and returned her to normal. For the second time in two days she’d almost given in. To her love and his lust.

It took him a moment longer to catch up and realize she held herself stiff and unresponsive, but when she said his name, cold and clear, he raised his head. His confused gaze met hers, and he gently lowered her to the ground.

She stared into the black depths of his eyes and clenched her jaw to stop herself from screaming with anger and frustration.

“What happened?”

She stepped past him, smoothed her clothes down, and tugged her bra back into place.

“You called me baby.”

“I call everyone baby.”

Her head snapped up, and she allowed herself a tight smile. Just as she’d thought.

“Precisely. Next time you want to fuck someone, Mac, at least have the decency to remember their name.”

Chapter 5

Jesus Christ, the woman was impossible. She wanted him. She definitely wanted him. Almost as much as he wanted her.

Irritated, Mac stomped around. The redhead was driving him insane. Every time he caught sight of her, he wanted to throw her over his shoulder or drag her by her thick, lush red hair into a darkened room and fuck her brains out until she couldn’t think past pleasing him. And her. He desperately wanted to please her. It wouldn’t take much, either; she was as ready to explode as he was. She just kept slamming on those brakes, though.

He scrubbed his hands over his face and groaned with frustration as he slumped into his deck chair. He’d almost had her twice now, and twice she’d turned cold and frigid on him within an instant, but just before she had, she’d nearly fried him with her response.

He was between a rock and a hard place. She drove him crazy. He didn’t want to want her, but he did.

Worse than wanting her, he was starting to really like her kid. The three times he’d been over recently, Zoe had deliberately made herself scarce. He knew it was deliberate because Emory was also a vet; he could just have easily gone out on an emergency or worked her shift. But no, each time he’d arrived, Emory had been there and she’d been absent. He knew the ultimatum had been his, but now he needed things to change. He needed Zoe there.

He had no objection to her father; the guy was great. Quiet, intelligent, and unassuming. He let the kid get on with things without interfering too much.

They’d been out in the boat with the dogs, although the weight of them all together had almost sunk it.

He chuckled as he distracted himself with the thought of his agent and insurers. They’d have had a heart attack if they thought he was floating around in a tiny little rowboat with a kid, a granddad, and their two mutts, Coke and Ice. Mind, Emory had insisted they wear life vests. His hadn’t fit, so Emory had used a dog’s lead to extend the straps. Now that would make a fine insurance claim.

He glanced up at the sky. It was going to be another warm day. Nothing like an English summer’s day. He didn’t mind having to get up at six in the morning when the dewy mists snaked low over the land, following the line of the River Severn. By midmorning the mist would have burned off.

They had a long day ahead of them. Another complex stunt.

Makeup would be with him soon. They’d want to plaster oil on his chest again. He hated the sticky feel of it and couldn’t wait to wash it off.

He smiled to himself, admitted to the egotistical thrill of knowing it made his skin look good as it glowed bronze in the golden English sunlight. And Zoe hadn’t been able to keep her hot green eyes off him when she watched them slick it all over him. Her voice might be saying no, but her eyes couldn’t lie.

The pleasure he’d had smearing it all over her when he’d grabbed her had made him think it wasn’t such a bad thing. It smelled real good, but he bet his sweet life she hadn’t been able to get it out of the crisp white cotton shirt she’d had pressed against him.

Diverted, he leaned back and thought of the patches of soot she’d had splattered across her breasts after he’d rubbed against her and wondered how she’d explained it to her dad.

Makeup needed to try to get the dirt in the same place as they had when he did the cooling tower stunt for the sake of continuity. It always took longer. Perhaps he should ask Zoe for her shirt to use as a mapping tool.

He narrowed his eyes as he watched a heron fly overhead, lazy and elegant. He’d noticed it flying in the opposite direction the last two evenings as the sun started to lower. His gaze followed it now as it made its way across the pale, clear blue sky, skimming low over the fields, dipping through the mists and down toward the River Severn.

BOOK: Finding Zoe (Atlantic Divide)
3.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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