About the Author

CHARLENE SANDS is a USA TODAY bestselling author of more than thirty-five romance novels, writing sensual contemporary romances and stories of the Old West. Her books have been honored with a National Readers’ Choice Award, a CataRomance Reviewers’ Choice Award, and she’s a double recipient of the Booksellers’ Best Award. She belongs to the Orange County chapter and the Los Angeles chapter of RWA.

Charlene writes “hunky heroes with heart.” She knows a little something about true romance—she married her high school sweetheart! When not writing, Charlene enjoys sunny Pacific beaches, great coffee, reading books from her favorite authors and spending time with her family. You can find her on Facebook and Twitter. Charlene loves to hear from her readers! You can write her at PO Box 4883, West Hills, CA 91308, USA, or sign up for her newsletter for fun blogs and ongoing contests at www.charlenesands.com.

Moonlight Beach Bachelors

Her Forbidden Cowboy

The Billionaire’s Daddy Test

One Secret Night, One Secret Baby

Charlene Sands

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08143-6

MOONLIGHT BEACH BACHELORS

Her Forbidden Cowboy © 2015 Charlene Swink The Billionaire’s Daddy Test © 2015 Charlene Swink One Secret Night, One Secret Baby © 2016 Charlene Swink

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

About the Author

Title Page

Copyright

Her Forbidden Cowboy

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

The Billionaire’s Daddy Test

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

One Secret Night, One Secret Baby

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Her Forbidden Cowboy

Charlene Sands

To our own Zane William (Pettis), the bright little light in our family. And to his mommy, Angi, and daddy, Kent, with love to all!

One

The heels of Jessica’s boots beat against the redwood of Zane Williams’s sun-drenched deck overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Shielded by the shade of an overhang, he didn’t miss a move his new houseguest made as he leaned forward on his chaise longue. His sister-in-law had officially arrived.

Was he still allowed to call her that?

Gusty breezes lifted her caramel hair, loosening the knot at the back of her head. A few wayward tendrils whipped across her eyes and, as she followed behind his assistant Mariah, her hand came up to brush them away. Late afternoon winds were strong on Moonlight Beach, swirling up from the shore as the sun lowered on the horizon. It was the time most sunbathers packed up their gear and went home and the locals came out. Shirt-billowing weather and one of the few things he’d come to like about California beach living.

He removed his sunglasses to get a better look at her. She wore a snowdrift-white blouse tucked into washed-to-the-millionth-degree jeans and a wide brown belt. Tortoiseshell-rimmed eyeglasses delicately in place didn’t hide the pain and distress in her eyes.

Sweet Jess. Seeing her brought back so many memories, and the frigidness in his heart thawed a bit.

She looked like...home.

It hurt to think about Beckon, Texas. About his ranch and the life he’d had there once. It hurt to think about how he’d met Jessica’s sister, Janie, and the way their small-town lives had entwined. In one respect, the tragedy that occurred more than two years ago might’ve been a lifetime ago. In another, it seemed as if time was standing still. Either way, his wife, Janie, and their unborn child were gone. They were never coming back. His mouth began to twitch. An ache in the pit of his stomach spread like wildfire and scorched him from the inside out.

He focused on Jessica. She carried a large tapestry suitcase woven in muted tones of gray and mauve and peach. He’d given Janie and Jessica matching luggage three years ago on their birthdays. It had been a fluke that both girls, the only two offspring of Mae and Harold Holcomb, were born on the same day, seven years apart.

Grabbing at the crutches propped beside his lounge chair, Zane slowly lifted himself up, careful not to fall and break his other foot. Mariah would have his head if he got hurt again. His casted wrist ached like the devil, but he refused to have his assistant come running every damn time he wanted to get up. It was bad enough she’d taken on the extra role of nursemaid. He reminded himself to have his business manager give Mariah a big fat bonus.

She halted midway on the deck, her disapproving gaze dropping to his busted wrist and crutches before she shot him a silent warning. “Here he is, Jessica.” Mariah’s peach-pie voice was sweet as ever for his houseguest. “I’ll leave you two alone now.”

“Thanks, Mariah,” he said.

Her mouth pursed tight, she about-faced and marched off, none too pleased with him.

Jessica came forward. “Still such a gentleman, Zane,” she said. “Even on crutches.”

He’d forgotten how much she sounded like Janie. Hearing her sultry tone stirred him up inside. But that’s about all Janie and Jessica had in common. The two sisters were different in most other ways. Jess wasn’t as tall as her sister. Her eyes were a light shade of green instead of the deep emerald that had sparkled from Janie’s eyes. Jess was brunette, Janie blonde. And their personalities were miles apart. Janie had been a risk-taker, a strong woman who could hold her own against Zane’s country-star fame, which might’ve intimidated a less confident woman. From what he remembered about Jess, she was quieter, more subtle, a schoolteacher who loved her profession, a real sweetheart.

“Sorry about your accident.”

Zane nodded. “Wasn’t much of an accident. More like stupidity. I lost focus and fell off the stage. Broke my foot in three places.” He’d been at the Los Angeles Amphitheater, singing a silly tune about chasing ducks on the farm, all the while thinking about Janie. A video of his fall went viral on the internet. Everyone in country music and then some had witnessed his loss of concentration. “My tour’s postponed for the duration. Can’t strum a guitar with a broken wrist.”

“Don’t suppose you can.”

She put down her luggage and gazed over the railing to the shore below. Sunlight glossed over deep steely-blue water as whitecaps foamed over wet sand, the tide rising. “I suppose Mama must’ve strong-armed you into doing this.”

“Your mama couldn’t strong-arm a puppy.”

She whipped around to face him, her eyes sharp. “You know what I mean.”

He did. Fact was, he wouldn’t refuse Mae Holcomb anything. And she’d asked him this favor. It’s huge, she’d said to him. My Jess is hurtin’ and needs to clear her head. I’m asking you to let her stay with you a week, maybe two. Please, Zane, watch out for her.

He’d given his word. He’d take care of Jess and make sure she had time to heal. Mae was counting on him, and there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for Janie’s mother. She deserved that much from him.

“You can stay as long as you like, Jess. You’ve got to know that.”

Her mouth began to tremble. “Th-thanks. You heard what happened?”

“I did.”

“I—I couldn’t stay in town. I had to get out of Texas. The farther, the better.”

“Well, Jess, you’re as far west as you could possibly go.” Five miles north of Malibu by way of the Pacific Coast Highway.

Her shoulders slumped. “I feel like such a fool.”

Reaching out, he cupped her chin, forcing her eyes to his, the darn crutch under his arm falling to rest on the railing. “Don’t.”

“I won’t be very good company,” she whispered, dang near breathless.

His body swayed, not allowing him another unassisted moment. He released her and grabbed for his crutch just in time. He tucked it under his arm and righted his position. “That makes two of us.”

Her soft laughter carried on the breeze. Probably the first bit of amusement she’d felt in days.

He smiled.

“I just need a week, Zane.”

“Like I said, take as long as you need.”

“Thanks.” She blinked, and her eyes drifted down to his injuries. “Uh, are you in a lot of pain?”

“More like, I’m being a pain. Mariah’s getting the brunt of my sour mood.”

“Now I can share it with her.” Her eyes twinkled for a second.

He’d forgotten what it was like having Jess around. She was ten years younger than him, and he’d always called her his little sis. He hadn’t seen much of her since Janie’s death. Cursed by guilt and anguish, he’d deliberately removed himself from the Holcombs’ lives. He’d done enough damage to them.

“Hand up your luggage to me,” he told her. With his good hand, he tucked his crutches under his armpits and propped himself, then wiggled his fingers. If he could get a grip on the bag...

Jessica rolled her eyes and hoisted her valise. “I appreciate it, Zane. But I’ve got this. Really, it’s not heavy. I packed light. You know, summer-at-the-beach kind of clothes.”

She let him off the hook. He would’ve tried, but fooling with her luggage wouldn’t have been pretty. The doggone crutches made him clumsy as a drunken sailor, and he wasn’t supposed to put any weight on his foot yet. “Fine, then. Why don’t you settle in and rest up a bit? I’m bunking on this level. You’ve got an entire wing of rooms to yourself upstairs. Take your pick and spread out.”

He followed behind as she made her way inside the wide set of light oak French doors leading to the living room. “Feel free to look around. I can have Mariah give you a tour.”

“No, that’s not necessary.” She scanned over what she could see of the house, taking in the expanse—vaulted ceilings, textured walls, art deco interior and sleek contemporary furniture. He caught her vibe, sensing her confusion. What was Zane Williams, a country-western artist and a born and bred Texan, doing living on a California beach? When he’d leased this place with the option to buy, he told himself it was because he wanted a change. He was building Zane’s on the Beach, his second restaurant in as many years, and he’d been offered roles in several Hollywood movies. He didn’t know if he was cut out for acting, so the pending offers were still on the table.

She sent him an over-the-shoulder glance. “It’s...a beautiful house, Zane.”

His crutches supporting him, he sidled up next to her, seeing the house from her perspective. “But not me?”

“I guess I don’t know what that is anymore.”

“It’s just a house. A place to hang my hat.”

She gave his hatless head a glance. “It’s a palace on the sea.”

He chuckled. So much for his attempt at humble. The house was a masterpiece. One of three designed by the architect who lived next door. “Okay, you got me there. Mariah found the house and leased it on the spot. She said it would shake the cobwebs from my head. Had it awhile, but this is my first summer here.” He leaned back, darting a glance around. “At least the humidity is bearable and it never seems to rain, so no threat of thunderstorms. The neighbors are nice.”

“A good place to rest up.”

“I suppose, if that’s what I’m doing.”

“Isn’t it?”

He shrugged, fearing he’d opened up a can of worms. Why was he revealing his innermost thoughts to her? They weren’t close anymore. He hardly knew Jessica as an adult, and yet they shared a deeply powerful connection. “Sure it is. Are you hungry? I can have my housekeeper make you—”

“Oh, uh...no. I’m not hungry right now. Just a bit tired from the trip. I’d better go upstairs before I collapse right here on your floor. Thanks for having a limo pick me up. And, well, thanks for everything, Zane.”

She rose on her tiptoes, and the soft brush of her lips on his cheek squeezed something tight in his chest. Her hair smelled of summer strawberries, and the fresh scent lingered in his nose as she backed away.

“Welcome.” The crutches dug into his armpits as they supported his weight. He hated the damn things. Couldn’t wait to be free of them. “Just a suggestion, but the room to the right of the stairs and farthest down the hall has the best view of the ocean. Sunsets here are pretty glorious.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Her quick smile was probably meant to fake him out. She could pretend she wasn’t hurting all that badly if she wanted to, but dark circles under her eyes and the pallor of her skin told the real story. He understood. He’d been there. He knew how pain could strangle a person until all the breath was sucked out. Hell, he’d lived it. Was still living it. And he knew something about Holcomb family pride, too.

What kind of jerk would leave any Holcomb woman standing at the altar?

Only a damn fool.

* * *

Jessica took Zane’s advice and chose the guest room at the end of the hallway. Not for the amazing sunsets as Zane had suggested, but to keep out of his hair. Privacy was a precious commodity. He valued it, and so did she now. A powerful urge summoned her to slump down on the bed and cry her eyes out, but she managed to fight through the sensation. She was done with self-pity. She wasn’t the first woman to be dumped at the altar. She’d been duped by a man she’d loved and trusted. She’d been so sure and missed all of the telling signs. Now she saw them through crystal clear eyes.

She busied herself unpacking her one suitcase, layering her clothes into a long, stylish light wood dresser. Carefully she set her jeans, shorts, swimsuits and undies into two of the nine drawers. She plucked out a few sleeveless sundresses and walked over the closet. With a slight tug, the double doors opened in a whoosh. The scents of cedar and freshness filled her nostrils as she gazed into a girl cave almost the size of her first-grade classroom back in Beckon. Cedar drawers, shoe racks and silken hangers were a far cry from the tiny drywalled closet in her one-bedroom apartment.

Deftly she scooped the delicate hangers under the straps of her dresses and hung them up. Next she laid her tennis shoes, flip-flops and two pairs of boots, one flat, one high-heeled, onto the floor just under her clothes. Her meager collection barely made a dent in the closet space. She closed the double doors and leaned against them. Then she took her first real glimpse at the view from her second-story bedroom.

“Wow.” Breath tunneled from her chest.

Aqua seas and the sun-glazed sky made for a spectacular vista from the wide windows facing the horizon. She swallowed in a gulp of awe. Then suddenly, a strange bone-rattling feeling of loss hit her. She shivered as if assailed by a winter storm.

Why now? Why wasn’t she reveling in the beauty surrounding her?

Nothing’s beautiful. You lost your sister, her unborn baby and your fiancé.

“Would you like to go out onto the balcony?”

She whirled around, surprised to find Mariah, Zane’s fortyish blonde assistant standing in the doorway. She’d worked for him since before he had married Janie. Jessica and Mariah’s paths had crossed a few times since then. “Oh, hi.” She glanced at the narrow glass door at the far end of the wall that led to the balcony. It was obviously situated there to keep from detracting from the room’s sweeping view of the Pacific. “Thanks, but maybe later.”

“Sure, you must be tired from the flight. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve unpacked. A shower and a nap and I’ll be good to go.”

Mariah smiled. “I’ll be leaving for the day. Mrs. Lopez, Zane’s housekeeper, is here. If you need anything, just ask her.”

“Thank you... I’ll be fine.”

“Zane will want to have dinner with you. He eats dinner just before sunset. But he’d make an exception if you’re hungry earlier.”

“Sunset is fine.”

Mariah studied her, her eyes unflinching and kind. “You look a little like Janie.”

“I doubt that. Janie was beautiful.”

“I see a resemblance. If you don’t mind me saying, you have the same soulful eyes and lovely complexion.”

She was pale as a ghost, and ten freckles dotted her nose. Yep, she’d counted them. Though, she’d never had acne or even a full-fledged zit to speak of in her teens. She supposed her complexion wasn’t half-bad. “Thank you. I, uh, don’t want to cause Zane or you any trouble. I’m basically here because it would’ve been harder to convince my mother otherwise, and I didn’t want her to worry about me off in some deserted location to search my soul. Mama’s had enough on her plate. She doesn’t need to fret over me.”

“I get it. Actually, you might be exactly what Zane needs to get his head out of the sand.”

That was an odd statement. She narrowed her eyes, trying to make sense of it.

“He’s not been himself for a while now,” Mariah explained without spelling it out. Jessica gave her credit for the delicate way she put it.

“I figured. He lost his family. We all did,” Jess said. She missed Janie something awful. Sometimes life was cruel.

Mariah nodded. “But having family around might be good for both of you.”

She doubted that. She’d be a thorn in Zane’s side. A kink in his plans. She would bide her time here, soak up some fresh sea air and then return home to face the music. Humiliation and desperate hurt had made her flee Texas. But she’d have to go back eventually. Her face pulled tight. She didn’t want to think about that right now.

“Maybe,” she said to Mariah.

“Well, have a good evening.”

“Thanks. You, too.”

After Mariah left, Jessica plucked up her shampoo and entered the bathroom. Oh, boy, and she’d thought the closet was something. The guest bathroom came equipped with a television, a huge oval Jacuzzi tub and an intricately tiled spacious shower that was digitized for each of the three shower heads looming above. She peered closer to read the monitor. She could program the time, temperature and force of the shower and heaven knew what else.

After she punched in a few commands, the shower spurted to life, and water rained down. Jess smiled. A new toy. Peeling off her clothes, she opened the clear glass door and stepped inside. Steamy spray hit her from three sides, with two heads spewing softly and one pulsing like the pumping of her heart. She turned around and around, using the fragrant liquid soap from a dispenser in the wall. She lingered there, lost in the mist and jet stream as pent-up tension seeped out of her bones, her limbs loose and free. Eventually, she got down to business and worked shampoo into her hair. Much too early, the shower turned off automatically. As she stepped out, the steam followed her. She dried herself with a cushy white towel. How nice.

She dressed in a pair of tan midthigh shorts and a cocoa-brown tank top. She hoped dinner with Zane wasn’t a formal thing. She hadn’t brought anything remotely fashionable.

After blow-drying her hair, she lifted the long strands up in a ponytail, leaving bangs to rest on her forehead. A little nap had sounded wonderful minutes ago, but now she was too keyed up to sleep. The time change would probably hit her like a ton of bricks later, but right now, the sandy windblown beach below beckoned her. She slipped her feet into flip-flops and headed downstairs.

Lured by the scent of spices and sauce wafting to her nose, she headed in that direction. Inside a magnificent granite-and-stone kitchen, she came face to face with an older woman, a little hefty in the hips, wearing an apron and humming to herself.

The woman turned around. “Hola, Miss Holcomb?”

“Yes, I’m Jessica.”

“Hola, Jessica.” She nodded. “I’m Mrs. Lopez. Do you like enchiladas?”

She was Texan. She loved everything Mexican. “Yes. Smells yummy.”

Mrs. Lopez lowered the oven door, and a stainless-steel rack automatically pushed forward.

“They will be ready in half an hour. Can I get you a drink? Or a snack?”

“No, thank you. I’ll wait for Zane. Well, it’s nice to meet you,” she said, retreating from the kitchen. “I’ll be back in—”

A boom sounded. “Double damn you!” Zane’s loud curse echoed throughout the house.

Jessica froze in place.

Mrs. Lopez grinned and shook her head. “He cannot dress himself too well. He will not let anyone help him. He is not such a good patient.”

They shared a smile. “I see.” But when she’d first arrived, he was wearing jeans and a casual cotton shirt. Was he dressing up now? “Do I need to change my clothes for dinner?”

“No, no. Mr. Zane spilled iced tea on his shirt. You are dressed nice.”

“Thank you.” Okay, great. She felt better now. When she’d packed her clothes, she hadn’t given much thought to her wardrobe. All she hoped for was to clear her head a little while here. “I thought I’d go for a walk on the beach. I’ll be back in plenty of time for dinner. See you later.”

Mrs. Lopez nodded and focused on the stove. Jess’s stomach grumbled as she left the spicy smells of the kitchen and walked out the double doors to the deck. From there, she climbed a few more stairs down, until warm sand crept onto her flip-flops.

* * *

There were no lakes or rivers back home that compared with the balmy breezes whipping at her hair, the briny taste on her lips or the glistening golden hues reflecting off the ocean. Her steps fell lightly, making a slight impression in the packed wet sand until the next wave inched up the shore and carried her footprints out to sea. Even with the sun low over the water’s edge, her skin warmed as she walked along the beach. To her right, beachfront mansions overlooking the sea filled her line of vision, each one different in design and structure. She was so intent on gauging the houses, she didn’t notice a jogger approaching until he’d stopped right in front of her.

“Hi,” he said, his breaths heaving.

“Hello.” A swift glance at his face made her gasp silently. He was stunning and tanned and one of the most famous movie stars in the world. Dylan McKay.

He hunched over, hands on knees, catching his breath. “Give me a sec.”

For what? She wanted to ask, yet she stood there, feet implanted in the sand, waiting. He was easy on the eyes, and she tried not to stare at his bare chest and the dip of his jogging shorts below a trim waist.

He righted his posture, and blood drained from her body as he aimed a heart-melting smile her way. “Thank you.”

Puzzled, she stared at him. “For?”

“Being here. For giving me an excuse to stop running.” He chuckled, and white teeth flashed. Was the sun-gleaming twinkle from his smile real? Could’ve been. Dylan McKay was every red-blooded woman’s idea of the perfect man.

Except hers. She knew there was no such thing.

“Okay. But...you could’ve just stopped on your own, couldn’t you?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m supposed to run ten miles a day. It’s a work thing. I’m preparing for a role as a Navy SEAL.”

No kidding? She wasn’t going to pretend she didn’t know who he was. Or that his bronzed body wasn’t already honed and ripped. “Gotcha. How many did you do?”

His lips twisted with self-loathing. “Eight.”

“That’s not bad.” Judging by the pained look on his face, he was a man who expected perfection of himself. “There aren’t too many people who can run eight miles.”

His expression lightened and he seemed to appreciate her encouragement. “I’m Dylan, by the way.” He put out his hand.

“Jessica.” It was a one-pump handshake.

“Are we neighbors?” he asked, his brows gathering. “I live over there.” He pointed to a trilevel mansion looming close by.

She shook her head. “Not really. I’m staying with Zane Williams for a short time.”

When his brows lifted ever so slightly and his eyes flashed, she read his mind. “He’s...he’s family.”

He nodded. “I know Zane. Good guy.”

“He is. My sister...well, he was married to Janie.”

A moment passed as he put two and two together. “I’m sorry about what happened.”

“Thank you.”

“Well, I think I’ve gotten my second wind. Thanks to you. Only two miles to go. Nice meeting you, Jessica. Say hi to Zane for me.”

He about-faced, trotted down the beach in the opposite direction and soon picked up his pace to a full-out jog.

She headed back to the house, a smile on her lips, a song humming in her heart. Maybe coming here wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

She spotted Zane braced against the patio railing and waved. Had he been watching her? She was hit with a surge of self-consciousness. She wasn’t a beach babe. Her curvy figure didn’t allow two-piece bathing suits, and her pale skin tone could be compared only with the bark of a birch tree or the peel of a honeydew melon.

As she climbed the stairs, her gaze hit upon his shirt, a Hawaiian print with repeating palm trees. She’d never seen Zane look more casual and yet appear so ill at ease in his surroundings.

“Nice walk?” he asked, removing his sunglasses.

“It beats a stroll to Beckon’s Cinema Palace.”

Zane laughed, a knowing glint in his eyes. “You got that right. I haven’t thought about the Palace in a long time.” His voice sounded gruff as if he’d go back to those days in a heartbeat.

There wasn’t a whole lot to do in Beckon, Texas, so on Saturday night the parking lot at the Palace swarmed with kids from the high school. Hanging out and hooking up. It’s where Jessica had had her first awkward kiss. With Miles Bernardy. Gosh, he was such a geek. But then, so was she.

It was also where Janie and Zane had fallen in love.

“I met one of your neighbors.”

“Judging by the glow on your face, must’ve been Dylan. He runs this time of day.”

“My face is not glowing.” She blinked.

“Nothing to worry over. Happens all the time with women.”

“I’m not a wom—I mean, I am not gawking over a movie star, for heaven’s sake.”

He should talk. Former brother-in-law or not, Zane Williams was a country superstar hunk. Dark-haired, six foot two, a chiseled-jawed Grammy winner, Zane wasn’t hard on the eyes, either. The tabloids painted him as an eligible widower who needed love in his life. So far, they’d been kind to him, a rare thing for a superstar.

He picked up his crutches and lifted one to gesture to a table. “This okay with you?”

Two adjacent places were set along a rectangular glass table large enough for ten. Votive candles and a spray of flowers accented the place settings facing the sunset. “It’s nice, Zane. I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble. I don’t expect you to entertain me.”

“Not going to any trouble, Jess. Fact is, I eat out here most days. I hate being cooped up inside the house. Just another week and I’ll be out of these dang confinements.” He raised his wrapped wrist.

“That’s good news. Then what will you do?”

Inclining his head, he considered her question. “Some rehab, I’m told. And continue working out details on the restaurant.” He frowned, and the light dimmed in his eyes. “My tour’s not due to pick up until September sometime. Maybe.”

She wouldn’t pry about the maybe. He hobbled to the table. Leaning a crutch against the table’s edge, he managed to pull out her chair—such chivalry—and she took her seat. Then he scooted his butt into his own chair. Plop. Poor Zane. His injuries put him completely out of his element.

Mrs. Lopez appeared with platters of food. She set them on the table with efficient haste and nodded to him. “I made a pitcher of margaritas to go with the enchiladas and rice. Or maybe some iced tea or soda?”

“Jessica?” he asked.

“A margarita sounds like heaven.”

He glanced at the housekeeper. “Bring the pitcher, please.”

She nodded. Within a minute, a pitcher appeared along with two bottle-green wide-rimmed margarita glasses. “Thanks,” he said. Zane leaned forward and gripped the pitcher with his wrapped hand. His face pinched tight as he struggled to upend the weighty pitcher. He sighed, and she sensed his frustration over not being able to perform the simple task of pouring a drink with his right hand.

“Let me help,” she said softly.

She slipped her hand under the pitcher and helped guide the slushy concoction into the glasses. She gave him credit for clamping his mouth shut and not complaining about his limitations.

“Thanks,” he said. He reached out, and the slide of his rough fingers over hers sent warm tingles to her heart. They were still connected through Janie, and she valued his friendship now. She’d made the right decision in coming here.

The food was delicious. She inhaled the meal, emptying her plate within minutes. “I guess I didn’t know how hungry I was. Or thirsty.”

She reached for her second margarita and took a long sip. Tart icy goodness slid down her throat. “Mmm.”

The sun had set with a parfait of swirling color, and now half the moon lit the night. The beach was quiet and calm. The roar of the waves had given way to an occasional lulling swish.

Zane sipped his third margarita. She remembered that about him. He could hold his liquor.

“So what are your plans now, Jess?” he asked.

“Hit the beach, work on my tan and stay out of your way. Shouldn’t be too hard. The place is huge.”

Tiny lines crinkled around his eyes, and he chuckled. “You don’t need to stay out of my way. But feel free to do whatever you want. There are two cars parked in the garage, fueled and ready to go. I can’t drive them.”

“So how do you get around?”

“Mariah, usually. When I’m needed at the restaurant site or somewhere, she’s drives me or I hire a car. She’s been a trouper, going above and beyond since my accident.”

Mrs. Lopez picked up the empty dishes, leaving the margarita pitcher. A smart woman.

“Thank you, Mrs. Lopez. Have a good night,” Zane said. “See you tomorrow.”

“Good night,” she said to both of them.

“Thanks for the delicious enchiladas.”

On a humble nod and smile, she exited the patio.

Zane pointed to her half-empty glass. “How many of those can you handle, darlin’?”

“Oh, uh...I don’t know. Why?”

“’Cause if you fall flat on your face, I won’t be able to pick you up and carry you to your room.”

He winked, and a sudden vision of Zane carrying her to the bedroom burst into her mind. It wasn’t as weird a notion as she might’ve thought. She felt safe with Zane. She truly liked him and didn’t buy into his guilt over Janie’s death. He wasn’t to blame. He couldn’t have known about faulty wiring in the house or the fire that would claim her life. Janie had loved Zane for the man that he was, had always been. She wouldn’t want Zane’s guilt to follow him into old age.

“Well, then, we’re even. If you got pie-eyed, I wouldn’t be able to pick you up, either.” She took another long sip of her drink. Darn, but it tasted good. Her spirits lifted. Let the healing begin.

Zane cocked a crooked smile. “I like your style, Miss Holcomb.”

“Ugh. To think I would’ve been Mrs. Monahan by now. Thank God I’m not.”

“The guy’s an ass.”

“Thanks for saying that. He sure had me fooled. Up until the minute I was having my bridal veil pinned in my hair, I thought I knew what the future had in store for me. I saw myself married to a man I had a common bond with. He was a high school principal. I was a grade-school teacher. We both loved education. But I was too blind to see that Steven had commitment phobia. He’d had one broken relationship after another before we started dating. I invested three years of my life in the guy, and I thought surely he’d gotten over it. I thought I was the one. But he was fooling himself as well as me.” A pent-up breath whooshed out of her. A little bit of tequila loosened her tongue, and out poured her heart. The unburdening was liberating. “My friend Sally said Steven looked up his old girlfriend seeking sympathy after the wedding that never happened. Can you imagine?”

Zane stared at her. “No. He should be on his knees begging you for forgiveness. He did one thing right. He didn’t marry you and make your life miserable. I hate to say it, darlin’, but you’re better off without him. The man doesn’t deserve you. But you’re hurt right now, and I get that. You probably still love him.”

“I don’t,” she said, hoisting her glass and swallowing a big gulp. “I pretty much hate him.”

Zane leaned back in his seat, his gaze soft on her. “Okay. You hate him. He’s out of your life.”

She braced folded elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands. The sea was black as pitch now, the sky lit only with a few stars and clouded moonlight. “I just wanted...I wanted what you and Janie had. I wanted that kind of love.”

Her fuzzy brain cleared. Oh, no. She hadn’t just said that? She whipped her head around. Zane’s expression of sympathy didn’t change. He didn’t flinch. He simply stared out to sea. “We had something pretty special.”

“You did. I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

“Don’t be.” His tone held no malice. “You’re Janie’s sister. You have as much right to talk about her as I do.”

Tears misted in her eyes. “I miss her.”

“I miss her, too.”

She sighed. She didn’t mean to put such a somber mood on the evening. Zane was gracious enough to allow her to stay here. She didn’t want to bring him down. It was definitely time to call it a night. She put on a cheery face. “Well, this has been nice.”

She rose, and her head immediately clouded up. The table, the railing, the ocean blurred before her. She batted her eyes over and over, trying to focus. Two Zanes popped into her line of vision. She reached for the tabletop, struggling to remain upright on her own steam. She swayed back and forth, unable to keep her body still. “Zane?”

“It just hit you, didn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah. I think so.” She giggled.

“Don’t move for a second.”

“I’ll...try.” A tornado swirled in her head. “Why?”

He rose and hobbled over to her. Using one crutch, he tucked it under his left arm. “I’m going to help you get inside.”

“But, you said...you c-couldn’t. Uh...” She giggled again.

Zane wrapped his right arm around her shoulder. “Okay, now, darlin’, I’ve got you. Your body will be my other crutch. We’ll help each other. Move slowly.”

“W-where are we g-going?”

“I’ve got to get you to bed.”

Her head fell to his shoulder. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought how nice it felt to have him hold her. He smelled good. He would take care of her.

“Focus on putting one foot in front of the other.”

She tried.

“That’s good, honey.”

Hobble-hopping, they moved together. It seemed to take forever to go a short distance in the dark shadows of the night. Keeping her eyes down, she watched her feet move. Then blinding light appeared in a burst. She squinted. “What’s that?”

“We’re inside the house now,” Zane was saying.

“That’s g-good, right? I’ll be in b-bed soon.” A warm buzz spread through her like soft, sweet jelly.

“Not upstairs. You’ll never make it. We’re going to my room.”

She couldn’t wait to lay her head down someplace. She didn’t care where. More careful steps later, they entered a room. A ray of moonlight beamed like an arrow, aiming straight at the bed.

“Okay, we made it,” Zane said. He sounded weird and out of breath. “You’ll sleep here tonight.”

He guided her down. The bed hit her bottom quickly and cushioned around her. She swayed sideways and was immediately set to right. Zane held her steady as the mattress dipped again and he sat next to her. Dizzying waves bombarded her head. She’d sat too quickly.

“Think you can take it from here?” he whispered.

No. Aware of Zane’s eyes on her, she waited until the twister in her head calmed. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Good.”

Her giddiness fading, her lighthearted high dropped to a pitiful low. It hadn’t taken her long to become a burden to Zane. If only she hadn’t sucked down that second margarita. Zane had warned her to go slowly. Expensive tequila and jet lag had done her in. Man, chalk another mistake up to her lousy intuition.

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he said.

But she was, and an urge to thank him wiggled through the fog in her head. Pursing her lips, she leaned forward toward his cheek. Her aim off, she missed and caught the corner of his mouth instead. As she brushed a soft kiss there, he tasted of tequila and the sea. So good. Inside, a warm sprinkling of something wonderful spread through her body. “Thank you,” she whispered, not sure if her words slurred.

Then his arms wrapped around her and gently lowered her down. Her head was enveloped in a large, fluffy pillow, and a silky sheet came to rest over her body.

She heard a whispered, “Welcome,” right before the world finally stopped spinning.

Two

Jessica gazed at the digital clock on the nightstand. Eight-thirty! She flashed back to last night and drinking those two giant margaritas, then slowly looked around. She was in an unfamiliar bed.

She’d finally let go and given herself permission to have a good time, and where had that gotten her? She’d made a fool of herself. Zane had hobbled her inside the house and slept heaven only knew where. Was there another bedroom on this floor? Maybe a servant’s quarters? She’d seen an office, a screening room and a game room. No beds, just couches. “Oh, man,” she mumbled.

She scanned the stark but stylish bedroom where she’d slept. A flat-screen TV, a dresser and a low fabric sofa were the only other furniture in the room. If it wasn’t for a shelf that housed Zane’s five Grammys, as well as a couple of CMA and ACM awards, she wouldn’t have guessed it was his master suite. There was nothing personal, warm and cozy about the space.

Hitching her body forward, she waited for signs of pain, but there was nothing. Thank goodness—no hangover. She grabbed her glasses from the nightstand, tossed off the covers and rose. Seeing she was still dressed in her shorts and tank top, she emitted a low groan from her throat as she slipped her feet into her flip-flops. How reckless of her. She’d abused Zane’s hospitality already.

She entered the bathroom, another ode to magnificence, and glanced at herself in the mirror. Smudged mascara and rumpled hair reflected back at her. She washed her face and finger-combed her long wayward tresses. She’d take care of the rest once she reached her own room.

Exiting Zane’s room, she made her way down a short hallway. Voices coming from the kitchen perked up her ears.

Mrs. Lopez spotted her and waved her inside. “Just in time for breakfast.”

Mariah and Zane sat at the kitchen table, coffee mugs piping hot in front of them. Upon the housekeeper’s announcement, both heads lifted her way. Blood rushed up her neck, and her face flamed.

“Morning,” Zane said, peering into her eyes and not at her wrinkled mess of clothes. “You ready for some breakfast?”

“Good morning, Jessica,” Mariah said. They’d obviously been deep in concentration, poring over a stack of papers.

“Yes, yes. Sit down,” Mrs. Lopez insisted.

“Oh, uh...good morning. I don’t want to intrude. You look busy.”

“Just same old, same old,” Mariah said. “We’re going over plans for Zane’s new restaurant. We could use your input.”

She’d given Zane her input last night. God. She’d kissed him. Remembering that kiss sent a warm rash of heat through her body. She’d missed his cheek and gotten hold of his lips. Was it the alcohol, or had her heart strummed from that kiss? The alcohol. Had to be. He must have known it was a genuine miscalculation on her part. She hadn’t meant to kiss him that way.

“Yes, have a seat, Jess,” he said casually. “You need to eat. And we sure need a fresh perspective.”

Before her shower? Luckily Zane hadn’t mentioned anything about her lack of discretion last night or her state of dress today. She’d overslept, that much was a given. Back home, she rose before six every morning. She loved to go through the morning newspaper, take a walk in the backwoods and then eat a light breakfast before heading to her classroom.

There were a platter of bagels with cream cheese, a scrambled egg jalapeno dish and cereal boxes on the table. The eggs smelled heavenly, and her stomach grumbled. Seeing no other option, she sat down and reached for the eggs as Mrs. Lopez provided her with a bowl and a cup of coffee.

“Bien.” She gave a satisfied nod.

Jessica smiled at her.

As Zane and his assistant finished up their breakfast, she ate, too, complimenting Mrs. Lopez on the food she’d prepared.

Zane told Mariah, “Janie and Jessica worked at their folks’ café in Beckon. They served the best fried chicken in all of Texas.”

“That’s what most folks said,” she agreed. She couldn’t claim modesty. Her parents did make the best fried chicken in the state. “My parents opened Holcomb House when I was young. They worked hard to make a go of it. It wasn’t anything as grand as what you’re probably planning, but in Beckon, the Holcomb House was known for good eats and a friendly atmosphere. When Dad died five years ago, my mom couldn’t make a go of it by herself. I think she lost the will, so she sold the restaurant. I’m no expert, but if I can help in any way, I’ll give it a try.”

“Great,” Mariah said.

“Appreciate it,” Zane added. “This restaurant will be a little different than the one in Reno, in cuisine and atmosphere. The beach is a big draw for tourists, and we want it to be a great experience.”

Zane probably had half a dozen financial advisors, but if he needed her help in any way, she’d oblige. How could she not? She cringed thinking that Zane slept on a sofa last night. A quick glance at his less than crisp clothes, the same clothes he’d worn last night, meant that he probably hadn’t got to shower this morning, either. Because of her.

Once the dishes were cleared, Mariah pushed a few papers over to her. “If you don’t mind, could you tell us what you think of the menu? Are the prices fair? Do the titles of the dishes make sense? We’re working with a few chefs and want to get it just right. These are renderings of what Zane’s on the Beach will look like once all done, exterior and interior.”

For the next hour, Jessica worked with the two of them, giving her opinion, voicing her concerns when they probed and offering praise honestly if not sparingly. Zane’s on the Beach had everything a restaurant could offer. Outside, patio tables facing the beach included a sand bar for summer nights of drinking under the moonlight. Inside, window tables were premium, with the next row of tables raised to gain a view of the ocean, as well. It wasn’t posh, but it wasn’t family dining, either. “I like that you’ve made it accessible to a younger crowd. The prices are fair. Have you thought about putting a little stage in the bar? Invite in local entertainment to perform?”

Mariah shot a look at Zane. “We discussed it. I think it’s a great idea. Zane isn’t so sure.”

Zane scrubbed his chin, deep in thought. “I’ve got to get a handle on what I want from this restaurant. My name and reputation are at stake. Do I want ocean views and great food or a hot spot for a younger crowd?”

“Why can’t you have both?” Jessica asked. “Quality is quality. Diners will come for the cuisine and ambiance. After hours, the place can transform into a nightspot for the millennials.”

Amused, Zane’s dark eyes sparked. “Millennials? Are you one?”

“I guess so.”

His head tilted, and his mouth quirked up. “Why do I suddenly feel old?”

“Because you are,” Mariah jabbed. “You’re cranking toward forty.”

“Thirty-five is a far shot from forty, and that’s all I’m saying.”

“You’re wise to stop there,” Mariah said playfully, yet with a note of warning. Jessica could tell that Mariah Jacobellis wasn’t a woman who put up with age jokes. Although Mariah was physically lovely, she seemed to take no prisoners when it came to business or her personal life. Jessica admired that about her. Maybe she could take a lesson from her rule book.

Zane leaned way back in his seat. “You got that right.”

Mariah stacked the papers on the table and rose, hugging them to her chest. “Well, I’m off to make some phone calls. Zane, think about when you want to resume your tour. I’ve got to let the event coordinators know. They’re on my back about it. Oh, and be sure to read through that contract that Bernie sent over the other day.”

Zane’s lips pursed. “I’ll do my best.”

“Jessica, have a nice morning. And if you’re around Zane today, please give him a hand. He may look like a superhero, but he’s really not Superman.”

Could’ve fooled her. Last night, he’d been super heroic.

Mariah pivoted on her heels and strode out the door.

Zane chuckled.

“What?”

“The look on your face.”

“I’m mortified about last night. Where on earth did you sleep, and does Mariah know what happened?”

“First off, don’t be upset. It’s our little secret. Mariah doesn’t know that you’re a margarita lightweight.” He smiled. “That woman’s been babying me for weeks. Doesn’t do a man a bit of good being so dang useless. For the first time in a month of Sundays, I was able to help out and do something useful with this banged-up body.”

“I took your bed.”

“Glad to give it up.”

“Where did you sleep?”

“The office sofa is the most comfortable place in the whole house.”

“Oh, boy. I’m sorry. The first night I’m here, I give you trouble.”

He smiled again, a stunning heart-melter. “If livening up my life some is trouble, then bring it on. Fact is, I’m glad you’re here. You bring a bit of home with you. I miss that.”

She needed to believe him. She’d been afraid coming here would remind him of Janie and all that he’d lost. To have him say he was glad she’d come made a big difference. “Okay.”

He put his palms on her cheeks and leaned forward. Her heart stopped. Was he going to kiss her? His touch sent tingles parading up and down her chest. Oh, wow. It wasn’t alcohol this time. Probably wasn’t the alcohol last night, either. She’d been dumped by a scoundrel, and now a man she had no right responding to made her feel giddy inside. How screwed up was that?

She gazed into his eyes. He was looking somewhere above her eyeglasses. Then he lowered his mouth—she stilled—and he brushed a brotherly kiss across her forehead. Breath eased from her chest, and her foolish heart tumbled. Of course, Zane wasn’t going to kiss her that way.

“And thanks for the input about the restaurant,” he said. “I respect your honesty and what you have to offer.”

She swallowed hard. Tamping down her silly emotions, she offered a quick smile. “Anytime.”

* * *

Beaming sunshine simmered over Jessica’s body, the invading heat soaking into her bones. Salty air, a cushion of sand beneath her and the soothing sounds of waves crashing upon the shore gave her good reason to forget her disastrous relationship with Steven Monahan. He didn’t deserve any more of her time. But the sting of his rejection stayed with her, leaving her hollowed out inside, afraid to trust, questioning her intuition. She feared she’d never fully recover the innocence of her first love. Good thing she didn’t have to make any decisions here on Moonlight Beach. She could just be.

Drenched in sunscreen, she lay on a beach blanket in a modest one-piece bathing suit, a folded towel under her head. Slight breezes just outside Zane’s beachfront home deposited flecks of sand onto her arms and legs. Children’s giggles and adult conversations drifted to her ears. For the first time in days, her nerves were completely calm.

She promised herself to keep out of Zane’s hair, and she had for the most part these past three days. He spent hours inside his office working with Mariah, and occasionally they would ask for her input on the restaurant. She figured it was just a way for him to keep her entertained and make her feel welcome. Each morning, under an overcast sky that would burn off before noon, she walked a three-mile stretch of beach, loosening up her limbs and clearing her head. At night, she’d dine with Zane on the patio facing the ocean, and except for having an occasional glass of white wine or a cold beer, she kept her alcohol consumption to a bare minimum. The Pacific Ocean and fresh air were her balm. She didn’t need to rely on anything else.

She wiggled her tush into the sand, carving out a more comfy spot on her blanket, and closed her eyes. The flapping of wings and piercing squawk of a seagull overhead made her smile.

“Glad to see you’ve taken to Moonlight Beach.”

Blocking rays of sunlight with a hand salute, she opened her eyes. The handsome face of Dylan McKay came into view.

“Hi, Jessica.” He stared at her with his million-dollar smile. “Don’t let me disturb you.”

Gosh, he remembered her name.

Wearing plaid board shorts and a muscle-hugging white T-shirt, and fitting into beach society with the casualness of a megastar, he sort of did disturb her. Yet he did so in such a friendly way, she didn’t mind the intrusion. As she sat up on her elbows, his gaze dipped to her chest. To his credit, his eyes didn’t linger on her breasts, and that was more than she could say about most men.

“Hello, and I am enjoying the beach. When in Rome, as they say.” She chuckled at the cliché. It was Mama’s favorite saying, and she’d used it a zillion times over the years. The most recent was last night when they’d talked on the phone. Did others in her generation get that phrase?

Her eyes fell on a black portfolio tucked under his arm. It looked odd there, as if he should be wearing a three-piece suit while carrying that austere leather case. Instead of moving on, he squatted down beside her, his tanned knees nearly in her face. Obviously, he wanted to chat.

“I see you sometimes in the morning, walking along the beach.”

“You’ve inspired me,” she said. “Of course, I only do three miles. How are your runs going?”

“Killing me, but I’m getting in the ten miles.”

His legs were taut, like those of a natural runner, and the rest of his body, well...it would be hard not to notice his muscles and the way his T-shirt nearly split at the seams around his shoulders and upper arms. “Good for you.”

“So, how’s it going?” he asked. “Other than sunbathing and taking long walks, are you having a good time?”

“Yes. It’s nice here. I’m working on some new lesson plans for my class. I teach first grade back home.”

“Ah...a teacher. Such an honorable profession.”

She waggled her brows. Was he poking fun at her? Or was he being genuine?

“My mother taught school for thirty-five years,” he added, his smile wistful, pride filling his voice. “She was loved by her students, but she wasn’t a pushover. It wasn’t easy pulling my antics on her. She was too savvy. She knew when kids were up to no good.”

“I bet you gave her a run for her money.”

He laughed, the gleam of his lake-blue eyes touching her. “I did.”

“What grade did she teach?”

“All grades, but she preferred fourth and fifth. Then, later on, she became dean of a middle school, and eventually, the principal of the high school.”

She nodded. She didn’t have much else to add to the conversation. Not that Dylan McKay wasn’t easy to talk to. He was. And she loved talking about education to anyone who would listen. It was just that he was fabulous, famous Dylan McKay. And he kept smiling at her.

“Hey, I’m having a party on Saturday night. If you’re still here, I’d love for you to come. Maybe you can get Zane to get out and have a little fun.”

“Oh, thanks.” He’d caught her off guard. Wasn’t that what she needed right now, to be a wallflower at an A-list party? “I’m...uh, I’m not the partying type. Especially now.”

“Now?”

She shrugged. “I’m going through something and need a little R and R.”

“Ah...a breakup?”

She nodded. Her pride aside, she opened up a little to make her point. “Broken engagement as the wedding guests were taking their seats in church.”

“Ah...gotcha. I’ve been there once, a long time ago, when I was too young to know better. It turned out for the best, so believe me, I understand. Listen, I promise you, the party is low-key. Just a few friends and neighbors for a barbecue on the beach. I’d love to see you there.”

“Thanks.”

He smiled, and she smiled back. Then he pointed to her upper thigh, on the right side, closest to him. “Uh-oh. Looks like you missed a spot. You’re starting to burn.” Grabbing the sunscreen tube from the blanket, his long fingers brushed the soft underside of her hand as he set the sunscreen into her palm. “Better lather up and—”

“Stop corrupting my little sis, McKay.”

Jessica whipped her head around. Zane stood on the sundeck railing, staring at Dylan. His voice was a far cry from menacing, but the cool look he shot Dylan made her wonder what was up.

Dylan winked at her. “Maybe she wants to be corrupted.”

“And maybe you want to turn tail and go home. I don’t have to read that script, you know.”

“Whoops,” he said, flashing a charming smile. “He’s got me there. Maybe you can help me convince him to take this role. Wanna try? Since you’re about to turn into a fried tomato out here.”

Under normal circumstances, she was probably the least starstruck person in Beckon, Texas, but how could she not take Dylan up on his offer to go over a movie script? The notion got her juices flowing, and excitement buzzed around her like a busy little bee.

She glanced down at her legs. Oh, wow. Dylan was right. There were more than a few splotchy patches on her body. Time to get out of the sun. “Sure, why not?”

“Great.” He swiveled his head in Zane’s direction. “We’re coming up right now.”

Gallantly, he offered her his hand. She couldn’t very well refuse the gesture. She slipped one hand into his and simultaneously clutched her cover-up with the other as they rose together. He was too close for comfort, his eyes smiling on her, their hands entwined. Gently she pulled away, making herself busy zipping herself into a white cotton cover up and ignoring his rapt attention. He was a charmer, but thankfully his touch hadn’t elicited a jolt of any kind. She glanced at Zane, leaning by the railing, his sharp gaze fixed on her.

Something hot and unruly sizzled in the pit of her belly.

She ignored it and pushed on, climbing the steps with Dylan McKay following behind.

* * *

“Did he ask you out?” Zane probed the minute Dylan McKay exited the house. Looming over her, Zane was a bit foreboding, as if he was her white knight protecting her from the wicked prince of darkness. Geesh.

“Wh-what?”

“The guy couldn’t take his eyes off you down on the beach.”

She shrugged and picked up three empty glasses, reminiscent of her waitress days at Holcomb House.

After coming back into the house she’d left the two men to take a quick shower and slip on a sundress. She’d listened to Dylan’s script proposal to Zane with keen interest in a spacious light oak–paneled office on the main level of the house. The meeting took almost an hour. Then they’d had drinks in the cool shade of the patio. Iced tea for her. The men were content to knock back whiskey and soda.

Dylan was a charming lady’s man to the millionth degree, and she knew enough to steer clear. The idea that he’d be interested in a little ol’ school teacher from Beckon, Texas, was ridiculous. She had no illusions of anything else going on between them, and Zane should know that.

Her mama’s image flashed before her eyes. That was it. She bet her mother put Zane up to watching out for her, making sure her tender heart didn’t get broken again. Well, heck. She’d let him off the hook, but not without giving him some grief. Her chin up, she said, “He invited me to his beach party Saturday night. It was just a friendly invitation.”

Zane’s mouth tightened into a snarl and he snorted. “Doubtful.”

“I told him I probably wouldn’t go.”

“Good.” Zane nodded, satisfied. “You don’t need to get involved with him. He’s—”

“Out of my league?”

His eyes widened. “Hell, no.”

“Well, he is. And I know it all too well. Heck, my life is messy enough right now. There’s no room for romance, though it’s absurd to think of Dylan McKay actually being into me.”

Zane immediately reached out to grab her arm. Surprised, she jerked from his touch, and the glasses she held nearly slipped from her hand. “Don’t put yourself down, Jess.”

A jolt sprang to life, spiraling out of control where the strong fingers of his bandaged hand pressed into her skin. Sharpness left Zane’s dark eyes, and he gave her a bone-melting look. “I was going to say, he would never appreciate you. You’re special, Jess. You always have been.”

Because she was Janie’s sister.

Zane held dear her sister’s memory, closing his heart around it and not allowing anyone else into his life. He was a sought-after hunky bachelor, but he’d been true to Janie’s love even now, years later. Jessica understood she was only here because Zane was too nice a guy to refuse her mama a favor. “Thank you.”

He nodded and released her to go lean against the railing.

Free of his touch, she marched the glasses into the kitchen, handing them to Mrs. Lopez one at a time. She had to do something to quell her pounding heart. What the heck was wrong with her?

“Dios, you do not do the work around here. That’s my job, no?”

“Yes. But I like to help.”

It was the same conversation she’d had with Mrs. Lopez since she’d arrived here. Jessica saw nothing wrong with putting clothes in the washer and turning the thing on, or clearing the dishes, or helping slice potatoes for a meal. Today, especially, she needed to do something with her hands.

“Sí, okay.” A relenting sigh echoed in the kitchen.

She picked up dirty dishes on the counter, loaded them in the dishwasher and put things back in the refrigerator. A few chores later, after scanning the clean kitchen they’d both worked on, she gave Mrs. Lopez a bright smile. The woman was shaking her head, but with a twinkle in her eyes. Progress.

Jessica strode out the kitchen door and was immediately knocked against the doorjamb. Pain shot to her shoulder. The jarring bump brought Mariah’s face into view. “Oh, sorry.”

Mariah was equally shocked from the collision. “I didn’t see you.”

“My fault. I should learn how to slow down.”

She chuckled. “I’m the same way. I’ve got to get where I’m going fast, no matter if it’s just to sip coffee and read the newspaper.” Mariah, always impeccably dressed, rubbed her shoulder through her cognac-colored silk blouse. “Guess we’re alike in that regard. Where were you going in such a hurry?”

“Nowhere. Just outside. I left Zane hanging and I wanted to go back to talk to him.”

“Good luck with that. I just left him, and he’s a bear right now.”

“Oh, really? Why?” It couldn’t be the Dylan McKay thing, could it?

“I don’t know exactly what set him off other than he hates being confined. He feels like a caged animal. Though he doesn’t make an effort to go anywhere, other than for business.”

“I can see how that would make him restless.”

Mariah smiled. “That’s the perfect way to describe it. He’s restless. But I’m afraid that came on well before his fall. I think a change of pace is good for him. I’ve helped him make the decision to open this second restaurant, and now he’s thinking about movie roles. It might be just what he needs.”

Or maybe he was running away from his past, the same way she was. Zane loved music. He loved writing lyrics and composing songs. He was meant to entertain. His sexy, deep baritone voice made his fans swoon. That’s the only Zane she’d known.

“Dylan invited you in to hear his pitch, I understand. What did you think of the movie?”

“Me? Well, I, uh...to be honest, I think the idea of Zane and Dylan being estranged brothers coming home after the death of their father might work. If Zane can act, he’d be great in the role. The only issue I see is the love triangle about the girl back home. I saw Zane’s reaction to Dylan’s description of the romantic scenes he’d have to do. Zane instantly shut down. I’m not sure if Zane’s up to that.”

“That’s exactly what I think, too. Zane’s not going to do something he’s not comfortable with. Believe me, I know. I’ve had plenty of discussions with him about his recent decisions. He bounces things off me. He asks me a question, and I tell him the truth.”

“Which is?”

“I will say this. Zane can act. He’s been doing so for over two years now. His public persona is far different than the real Zane.” Mariah was ready to say more and then clamped shut. Her eyes downcast, she shook her head. “Forgive me. I keep forgetting who you are.”

Jessica drew her brows together. “It’s because of Janie. He’s still hurting.”

Mariah nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

Mariah’s eyes fell on her softly, her genuine warmth shining through. “Please forget I said anything. It’s none of my business.”

The idea that after two years, Zane was still making decisions based on the love he had for Janie, nestled deep into her heart. It was beautiful in a way, but also incredibly sad. “You’re Zane’s personal assistant. You spend a lot of time together. I can see that you care about him as a friend, too, so maybe it’s more your business than mine.”

“Zane thinks of you as family. He’s said so a dozen times since you’ve come here.”

“I’m the little sis he never had.” Wasn’t that the term he’d used this afternoon with Dylan McKay?

Stop corrupting my little sis.

Zane’s loyalty to her family was very sweet. She didn’t take it lightly, but she also didn’t want him to think of her as a pity case. From the moment her shocked guests walked out of the church on her wedding day, weeks ago now, something harsh and cold seeped into her soul. Trust would be a long time coming, if ever again. So Zane didn’t have to worry over her. She wasn’t a woman looking for love. She wasn’t on the rebound. He could sleep well at night.

“So, what are you up to today?” she asked Mariah. She was learning the ins and outs of Zane’s superstardom. Mariah sifted through a dozen offers a day for special appearances, television interviews and charity events on Zane’s behalf. She’d learned that Zane was a generous contributor to children and military charities, but lately, he’d declined any personal appearances. Mariah worked with his fan club president on occasion and took care of any personal business, such as setting up medical appointments or shopping trips. It was a different world, one that her sister, Janie, had resigned herself to because she’d been with Zane from the launch of his career. They’d grown into this life together.

“More restaurant business to do today. We’ve got a decorator working on the interior design, but Zane’s not sure about the motif.” Mariah’s cell phone rang, and she excused herself.

Jessica walked over to the French door leading out to the deck. Zane was sprawled out on a lounge chair, shaded from the sun, his booted foot elevated, reading the script Dylan had brought over. Keen on the subject matter, he seemed deep in thought. As her gaze lingered, she watched him close the binder and stare out to sea, his expression incredibly wistful.

She followed the direction of his gaze and honed in on the vast view of the ocean. The sounds of the sea lulled her into a soothing state of mind. It was a place to find infinite peace, if there ever was such a thing. Her nerves no longer throbbed against her skin. These past few days, she’d been much calmer. Were time and distance all she’d needed to get over Steven Monahan? Geesh, Jessica felt at one with nature and started to believe. A chuckle rose from her throat at the notion. She was beginning to sound like a true Californian.

“Crap! Damn things.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she witnessed Zane’s crutches fall to the ground. The slap echoed against the wood deck. Zane was off the chair, bending to pick them up and trying to keep weight off his bad foot. It looked like a yoga move gone bad. She moved quickly, her legs eating up the length of the deck to get to him.

“Zane, hang on.”

He stumbled and fell over, landing on his bad hand. “Ow!”

By the time she reached him, he was on his butt, cursing like the devil, shaking out his wrist. She kneeled beside him. “Are you okay?” she asked softly.

He tilted his head toward her. “You mean other than my pride?”

She smiled. “Yes, we’ll deal with that later. How’s the hand?”

“I managed to catch the fall on the tips of my fingers, so the wrist should be fine.”

He moved his fingers one by one as if he was playing keys on a piano. So much for keeping his hand immobilized. “Maybe your doctor would be a better judge of that.”

“Now you sound like Mariah.”

“I knew an old goat like you once,” she said, putting his right arm over her shoulder. “Let me help you up.”

“I knew the same goat,” he bounced back. “Smart critter.”

“Pleeeze. Okay, are you ready? On three.” She swung her arm around his waist. “One. Two. Three.”

His weight drew her toward him, the side of her face against his chest, her hair brushing his shirt. He smelled like soap and lime shaving lotion. His heart pounded in her ear as she strained to help lift him.

Zane did most of the work, his brawny strength a blessing. Together, they managed to stand steady, Zane keeping weight off his foot by using her as his right crutch. Once again, just like the other night, she was wrapped tight in his arms. Ridiculous warmth flowed through her body. She couldn’t explain it except she felt safe with him, which was silly because this time she’d done the rescuing. “There,” she said, satisfied she’d gotten him upright. “Now, we’re even.”

His arm over her shoulder, he turned to her with eyes flickering. “Is that so?”

Well, maybe not. She was getting drunk on him, minus the alcohol. “Yes, that’s so.”

“I could’ve gotten up on my own, you know.”

“It wouldn’t have been pretty.”

He laughed. “True.”

“So, I’m glad I was here to help. Show a little gratitude.”

He wasn’t a man who liked taking help. That was part of the problem. His gaze roamed over the deck where he’d spent most of his day, and she sensed his frustration.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asked.

“Sure. Where would you like to go?” Mariah said he didn’t like to go out, so she couldn’t let this opportunity pass by. If he needed some breathing room, away from his gorgeous house and his familiar surroundings, who was she to deny him?

“Anywhere. I don’t care. Are you up to driving my car?”

“I can manage that. I’m going to get your crutches now, okay?” She didn’t wait for an answer.

She released him and he stood there, balancing himself for the two seconds it took her to pick up both of his crutches and hand them over. Tucking one under each arm, he pointed a crutch toward the door. “After you.”

Three

To her surprise, Zane picked his silver convertible sports car for her to drive over the black SUV sitting in his three-car garage. The other car, a little blue sedan, had to be Mariah’s car. Jessica helped him get into his seat, taking his crutches and setting them into the narrow backseat before closing his door.

As soon as she climbed behind the steering wheel, she understood why Zane didn’t venture out much. Sitting in the passenger seat, he was encumbered by his foot, broken in three places, which required him to be extremely careful. He also put on a disguise. Well, a Dodgers baseball cap instead of his signature Stetson and sunglasses wasn’t much of a disguise, but she knew where he was coming from. He couldn’t afford to be recognized and surrounded by fans or paparazzi. In his condition, he couldn’t make a fast getaway. “Why am I driving this car?”

“More fun for you.”

“You mean more scary, don’t you? How much is this car worth, just in case I wreck it, or—heaven forbid—put a scratch on it?”

He smiled. “Don’t worry. It’s insured.”

Stalling for time, she fidgeted with her glasses and took several deep breaths before she turned to Zane. He was still smiling at her. At the moment, she didn’t enjoy being his source of amusement.

“Here goes.” With the press of a button, the engine purred to life. Zane showed her how to adjust her seat and mirrors using the control buttons. Once set, she supposed she was as ready as she would ever be. She pumped the gas pedal and gripped the steering wheel. She’d never driven anything but a sedan, a boring four-door family car with no bells and whistles. This car had it all. A thrill shimmied up her legs...all that power under her control.

She backed the car out of the garage and made the turn into a long driveway that reached the front gate. Upon Zane’s voice command, the gate slid open, and she pulled forward and onto the highway. She drove along the shoreline, keeping her eyes trained on the road and her speed under thirty miles per hour.

His back was angled against the passenger door and his seat. She sensed him watching her. He’d opted to keep the top up on the convertible, for anonymity, she supposed. Even though he’d not had a hint of scandal to his name, every time Zane went out, he risked being photographed. Putting the top down on his car in the light of day would be like asking for trouble.

She didn’t dare shoot him a glance, keeping her focus on the road.

“What?” she asked finally. “Your grandmother drives faster than me?”

“I didn’t say a word.” His Texas drawl seeped into her bones. “But now that you mention it, I think my great-grandmother drove her horse and buggy a mite faster than you.”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny. Maybe I’d drive faster if I knew where I was going.”

He sighed. “I’ve learned that sometimes, it’s better not to know where you’re going. Sometimes, planning isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Some roads are better not mapped out.”

After that cryptic statement, she did look his way and found him resting his head against the window. His sunglasses hid his eyes and his true expression. The mood in the car grew heavy, and she didn’t know how to answer him, so she buttoned her lips and continued to drive.

After five minutes of silence, Zane shifted in his seat. “Wanna see the site of the restaurant? The framework is up.”

“I’d love to.”

He directed her down a side road that wound around a cove. Then the beach opened up again to a street that faced the ocean. Unique shops and a few other small restaurants sparsely dotted the shoreline before she came upon the skeletal frame of a building.

“There it is. You can park along the side of the road here.” He gestured to a space, and she swung the car into the spot.

“This is a great location.”

“I think so, too. On a clear day, there’s visibility for miles going in either direction.”

The beach was wide where the restaurant would sit, far enough from the water to avoid high tides. A rock embankment jutted out to the left, where pelicans rested, scoping out their next meal. Above them and across the road, far up on the cliffs sat zillion-dollar homes overlooking the coastline.

“Do you want to get out?” she asked.

“Yep.”

“Hold on,” she said, killing the engine and climbing out. She reached into the backseat and grabbed his crutches, then strolled to his side of the car. He was lifting himself out of his seat by the time she got there. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.”

She waited for him to get his bearings, and they moved through the sand until they reached the beach side of the restaurant. “So this is Zane’s on the Beach.”

“Yep. Gonna be.”

“I suppose it’s good that you’re branching out. You’ve become a regular entrepreneur.”

“Can’t sing forever.”

Why not? Willie Nelson, George Strait and Dolly Parton weren’t having career problems. And neither was Zane. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not eager to go back to doing what you love to do?”

It was a personal question. Maybe too personal, given that Zane didn’t react to it at all. He simply stared at the ocean, thinking.

“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“Don’t apologize, Jess,” he rasped with a note of irritation. “You can ask me anything you want.”

Okay, she’d take him up on that. “So, then, why are you searching for something else when you’ve established yourself as a superstar and you have fans all over the world waiting for your return?”

He closed his eyes briefly. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m tired of being in my own skin.”

It was the most honest answer he could’ve given her. Zane was hurting. Still. And he didn’t know how to deal with it. “I get that. After my disastrous breakup with Steven, I felt totally out of options. I didn’t know who to trust, what to believe. I couldn’t make a decision to save my life. That’s why when I had to get out of Dodge, I let my mother take over and make arrangements. After she did, I didn’t have the gumption to argue with her. No offense, but visiting you wasn’t even on my radar.”

He chuckled. “Should I be insulted?”

She softened her voice. “You made a point of keeping away from the entire family after Janie...”

He winced at her honesty. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so blunt. “It’s not for the reasons you think.”

“I know why you did it, Zane.”

He put his head down. “I was having a hard time.”

“I know.” He’d been swallowed up with guilt. Janie was five months pregnant when she lost her life. Zane was touring in London, and Janie wanted desperately to travel with him. Zane had given her a flat-out no. He didn’t want her away from her doctors, on a whirlwind schedule that would sap her energy. They’d argued until Zane had gotten his way. He’d loved Janie so much, trying to protect her and keep her safe. It was a tragic irony that she’d died in her own home on the night Zane had performed for Prince Charles and the royal family. Momentary grief swept over his features. He’d probably feel the guilt of his decision until his dying day. But there was no one to blame. No one could’ve known that Janie would’ve been safer in London than resting in her own sprawling, comfortable ranch house while Zane was gone. Her mother had recognized that. Jessica recognized that, but Zane wouldn’t let himself off the hook.

Braced by the crutches under his arms, Zane let go of one handle and took her right hand. Lacing their fingers, he applied slight pressure there, squeezing her hand as they stared at the ocean. “I’m glad you’re here, Jess.”

Peace and pain mingled together, a bittersweet and odd combination of emotions that she was certain Zane was experiencing, too. They’d both lost so much and shared a profound connection.

Afternoon winds blew her hair onto her cheek and Zane touched her face, removing the wayward strands, tucking them behind her ear. “It’s good to have someone who understands,” he whispered.

She nodded.

“You can trust me,” he said.

“I do.” Strangely, she did trust Zane. He wasn’t a threat to her, not the way every other man in the universe might be. She had learned some harsh lessons about men and about herself. She’d never overlook the obvious the way she had with Steven. She’d never allow herself to be fooled into believing a relationship would work when there were three strikes against it from the get-go.

“This is nice,” she murmured.

“Mmm,” he replied.

Zane released her hand, and they fell into comfortable silence, watching wave upon wave hit the shore. After a minute, he turned her way. “Do you want to see the inside of the restaurant?”

Her gaze was drawn to the framed, unroofed, sandy-floored structure behind her. “I sure do!”

He laughed. “Follow me, if you can keep up.” He hobbled ahead of her. “I’ll give you the grand tour.”

* * *

Zane folded his arms and leaned back in the booth of Amigos del Sol—friends of the sun—watching Jess pore over the menu items of his favorite off-the-beaten-path Mexican restaurant. It was a small hacienda-style place known for making the most delicious, fresh guacamole right at the table. “Everything is great here, but the tamales are out of this world.”

And the guacamole was on its way.

Jessica’s head was down, and her glasses dropped to the tip of her nose. With her index finger, she pushed them up to the bridge of her nose. He grinned. It was a habit of hers that he found adorable.

“Tamales it is. I will bow to your vast culinary taste. But I’m even more impressed at how you managed to sneak us in the back way and get this corner booth.”

“I shouldn’t give away my secrets, but while you were navigating turns and learning how to gun the engine on my car, I texted Mariah to call the owner and let him know we needed a quiet spot and we’d appreciate coming in through the back door.”

“Ah...Mariah. Your secret weapon.”

“She makes things happen.”

“I’ve noticed. She anticipates your every move and watches out for you.”

“Yeah, like a mother hen,” he said. “Not that I’m ungrateful. She’s like my second right arm.” He lifted his broken wrist. “And in my condition, that’s important.”

A uniformed waiter pushed a food cart to their table. Zane practically salivated. He’d been craving the homemade guacamole since earlier in the day. The waiter set out a molcajete and tejolote, a mortar and pestle carved from volcanic rock, to begin preparations. Squeezing lime juice into the bowl first, he added cilantro, bits of tomato, garlic and other spices. Next he used the pestle to grind all the flavors together and scooped out three perfectly ripe avocados. The aroma of the blended spices and avocados flavored the air. Once done, the guacamole and warm tortilla chips were placed on the table.

After the waiter took their dinner order, he walked off with his cart. Zane grabbed a tortilla chip and dipped it into the fresh green mixture, offering it to Jess first. “Taste this and tell me it’s not heaven.”

She leaned in close enough for him to place the chip into her mouth. As she chewed, a beautiful smile emerged, and her eyes closed. She sighed. “Oh, this is so good.”

Drawn to the sublime expression on her face, he forgot about his craving for a few seconds. Eyeing her reaction distracted him in ways that might’ve been worrisome, if it hadn’t been Jess. As soon as she finished chewing, she snapped her eyes open. “You didn’t have one yet?”

“No...it was too much fun watching you.”

“I seem to be a source of your amusement lately.”

That much was true. Jess being here brightened up his solemn mood. That wasn’t a bad thing, was it? He dipped a chip in and came up with a large chunk of guacamole. He shoved it into his mouth and chewed. On a swallow, he said. “Oh, man. That’s good.”

Jess’s eyes darted past him, focusing on something happening behind his back.

“Uh...oh. Don’t turn around, Zane,” she whispered.

As soon as her words were out, two twentysomething girls approached the table, giddy and bumping shoulders with each other. “Hello. Excuse me,” one of them said. “But we’re big fans of yours.”

“Thank you,” he said.

“Would you mind signing a napkin for us?”

He glanced at Jessica and she nodded.

“Sure will.”

They produced two white napkins and a pen, which made things a little less awkward. Zane hated waiting around while fans scrambled for something for him to autograph. They gave him their names, and he signed the napkins and handed them back.

“Thank you. Thank you. You’re our favorite country singer. I just can’t believe we’ve met you. Your last ballad was amazing. You have the best voice. I saw you in concert five years ago, when I was living in Abilene with my folks.”

Zane kept a smile on his face. The girls were clueless that they were interrupting his meal with Jessica. “Well, that’s nice to hear.”

They stared at him, hovering close.

Jessica stood up then. Bracing her hands on the table, she smiled at the girls. “Hello. I’m Jessica, Zane’s sister-in-law.” The girls seemed baffled when she shook both of their hands. “We were having a little family talk, and we’re limited on time. Otherwise I’m sure Zane would love to speak to you. If you give me your names and addresses, I’ll see that you get a signed CD of his latest album. And please be discreet when you leave here,” she whispered. “Zane loves meeting his fans, but we really need a few private moments during our meal tonight.”

“Oh, okay. Sure,” one of them said congenially.

The other girl wrote their addresses on the napkin Jessica provided before she wished them well. Giggling quietly, the two women walked away.

Zane stared at Jessica. “I’m impressed.”

“I’ve been listening to how Mariah deals with your fan club members. I hope it’s okay that I offered them a CD.”

“It’s fine. Happens all the time. I wish I’d have thought of it myself.”

“They were persistent.”

Zane shook his head. “I could tell you stories.” But he wouldn’t. Some of the things that had happened to him while touring on the road weren’t worth repeating. “Actually, these two were a little subtle compared with some of the people who approach me.”

“You mean, compared with the women who approach you.”

He scrubbed his chin, his fingers brushing over prickly stubble. “I suppose.”

Jessica snorted. “You don’t have to be modest on my account. I know you’re in demand.”

He tossed his head back and laughed. “In demand? What are you getting at?”

“You’re single, available, successful and handsome. Those two women who left here would probably describe you as a hottie, a hunk, a heartthrob and a hero. You’re in the 4-H club of men.”

His smile broadened. “The 4-H club of men? You just made that up.”

“Maybe,” she said, taking a big scoop of guacamole and downing the chip in one big swallow. “Maybe not.”

“You constantly surprise me,” he said, sipping water. He could use something stronger. “I like that about you.”

“And I like that you’re decent to folks who admire you.”

Their eyes met, and something warm zipped through his gut. Jessica’s compliments meant more to him than ten thousand wide-eyed, giddy fans. He admired her, too. “Ah, shucks, ma’am. Now you’re gonna make me blush.”

Another unladylike snort escaped through her mouth. Zane grinned and leaned way back in his seat just as his cell phone rang. Dang, he didn’t want to speak to anyone now, but only a few close friends and family knew his number. He fished the phone out of his pocket. “It’s Mariah,” he said to Jessica. He turned his wrist to glance at his watch. It was after eight. “That’s odd. She usually texts me if she needs me for something after hours. Excuse me a second.”

“Hi,” he said. “What’s up?”

“Zane, s-something terrible’s h-happened.” Sobs came through the phone, Mariah’s voice frantic and unsteady. Zane froze, those words instilling fear and flashing a bad memory. “My mother had a stroke. It’s pretty b-bad.”

“Oh, man. Sorry to hear that, Mariah.”

“I have to fly home right away. Th-they don’t know...oh, Zane...she’s so young. Only sixty-four. She never had health problems before. Oh, God.”

“Mariah, you just do what you have to do. Don’t worry about a thing.” Her voice broke down, her sobs growing louder. “Where are you?”

“At Patty’s h-house in Santa Monica.” She shared a place temporarily with an old college roommate. The situation was perfect while he was staying on Moonlight Beach. She was close by without living under his roof.

“Pack up a few things and try to stay calm. Do you have a flight?”

“Patty got me on a midnight flight to Miami.”

“Okay...I’ll send a car for you in an hour. Hang in there, Mariah.”

“It’s okay, Zane. I a-appreciate it, but Patty offered to d-drive me. I’ll be fine.” A deep, sorrowful sigh whispered through the phone. “Are you going to be all right? I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”

“Don’t worry about me.” He stared at Jessica. Her eyes were softly sympathetic and kind. “Take all the time you need. And call if there’s any way I can help, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks. Goodbye, Zane.”

Zane hung up the phone. “Man, that’s rough. Mariah’s mother had a stroke. She’s on her way to Florida now.”

“Gosh, I’m sorry to hear that. Is it serious?”

“Seems that way.” He ran a hand down his face, pulling the skin taut. “I’ve never heard her so unraveled before. She may be gone a long time.”

“I would think so. Will you find a replacement for her?”

Zane wasn’t thinking along those lines. Not yet. He kept hearing the disbelief and pain in Mariah’s voice and understood it all too well.

Your wife didn’t make it, Zane.

Didn’t make what? he’d asked the doctor over and over, screaming into the phone. Then, all the way home from London, he kept thinking, hoping, praying it had been a mistake. A horrible, sick mistake. It wasn’t until he saw the desolate ruins of his once proud home in Beckon that it finally sank in Janie was gone. Forever.

The meal was served, and as his gaze landed on the plate of saucy cheese-topped tamales, blood drained from his face, and his gut rebelled. For Jessica’s sake, he pushed his haunting memories aside. He didn’t want to ruin her meal.

Jessica reached for him across the table, her fingertips feathering over his good hand gently, comforting him with the slightest touch. When he lifted his lids, he gazed into her knowing, sensitive eyes, and she smiled. “Let’s have them pack up this food. We’ll eat it later on.”

“Do you mind?” he asked.

“Not at all. I’m ready to go anytime you are.”

He felt at peace suddenly, a glowing warmth usurping the dread inside his gut.

And then it hit him. Sweet Jess. She was good for him. She understood him, perhaps better than anyone else on this earth. She was a true friend, an authentic reminder of home, and he needed her here.

“You asked me before if I’d find a replacement for Mariah.”

“Yes, I did. Hard shoes to fill, I would imagine.”

“Yeah, I agree.” He looked her squarely in the eyes. “Except I’ve already found someone, and I’m looking straight at her.”

Four

Jessica woke to a glorious sunrise, the stream of light cutting through early morning haze and clouds in a host of color. Every morning brought something new from the view outside her bedroom window, and she was beginning to enjoy the variance from fog to haze to brilliance that took place before her eyes.

She stretched her arms above her head, working out the kinks, not so much in her shoulders and neck, but the ones baffling her brain. Last night, Zane told her to keep an open mind and sleep on his suggestion of replacing Mariah as his personal assistant. Her mouth had dropped open, and she thought him insane for a few seconds, but then he pointed out that he wasn’t working, he had no gigs lined up, and he wasn’t doing interviews right now. Most of what she had to do was hold off the press and postpone anything pending to future dates.

She wouldn’t go into it cold. Mariah would be in touch to give her the guidance she needed to get her through anything remotely difficult.

“You’re an intelligent woman, Jess. I’m convinced you’d have no problem, and I’m right here to help you,” he’d said.

Zane’s assurances last night gave her the push over the edge she’d needed this morning. Her head was clear now, and she valued the challenge and even looked forward to it. She wasn’t ready to return to Texas anyway. Zane wanted freedom from his agent and manager’s constant urging to get back on the horse. Zane wasn’t ready yet and she could understand that. He needed more time, just as she did.

The new, bronzer Jessica no longer had freckles on her nose, thanks to a wonderful suntan that had connected those freckly dots and browned up her light skin. How many more hours could she feasibly sunbathe her day away? Staying on for a few weeks and helping Zane out would give her a new sense of purpose.

Jessica showered and dressed quickly. Putting on a pair of khaki shorts and a loose mocha-brown blouse, she slipped her feet into flip-flops and strode toward the kitchen. There were no wickedly delicious aromas drifting from the kitchen this morning. Mrs. Lopez had yet to arrive.

“Sonofabitch!”

A string of Zane’s profanities carried to her ears. She grinned. Poor guy. He hated being confined.

She ventured into his bedroom. “Zane?”

“In here!”

She followed the sound of his cursing. He was standing over the bathroom sink, and their eyes met in the mirror. A scowl marred his handsome face, and three blood dots covered with bits of tissue spotted his cheeks and chin. Remnants of lime-scented shaving cream covered the rest of his face. “Damn hand. It’s impossible to get a good shave.”

“Whoops.” With her index finger, she caught a drop of blood dripping from his chin before it landed on his white ribbed tank. “Got it.”

He peered at her in the mirror and handed her a tissue. “Thanks.”

“Thank me later, after I shave you. We’ll see if I can’t do a better job.”

“You?”

“I used to lather up my dad and shave him when I was a kid.” She hoisted herself up onto the marble counter to face him and picked up his razor. “It used to be a game, but darn it, I did an excellent job. Dad was surprised. Seems I’m pretty good with one of these.”

Doubtful eyes peered at the razor in her hand.

“What? You don’t trust me? It’s a guarantee I’d do a better job than what I see on your face now. Or, I can drive you to the local barbershop. Since I’m going to be your new personal assistant and all.”

The scowl left his face immediately, and her heart warmed at seeing approval in his eyes. “You’ve decided, then?”

“Yes, I’m on the clock now. So what will it be? A shave by your PA or a drive to the barber?”

“Try not to cut me,” he said.

“You’ve already done a good job of that.” She handed him a towel. “Wipe your face clean. We’ll start from scratch.”

Zane’s eyes widened.

She chuckled at her bad choice of words. “You know what I mean.” Pressing down on the canister, she released a mound of shave cream in her hand and leaned forward to rub it over his cheeks, chin and throat.

Zane leaned a little closer, his body braced by the counter. Her heart did a little dance in her chest. His nearness, the refreshing heady lime scent, her position sitting on the counter, touching him—suddenly she was all too aware of the intimate act she was performing on her brother-in-law.

What on earth was she doing?

Zane needed help and she’d rushed to his aid. But she hadn’t thought this through.

He still towered over her, but only by a few inches now. She lifted her eyes and found him, waiting and watching her through the mirror.

Her hand wasn’t so steady anymore.

She couldn’t fall down on her first official act as Zane’s personal assistant, intimate as it was.

“Okay, are you ready?”

He kept perfectly still. “Hmm.”

Her legs were near his hip, and she angled her body to get closer to his face. Bracing her left hand on his shoulder to steady herself, she was taken by the strong rock-hard feel of him under her fingertips. She stroked his face, and the razor met with stubble and gently scraped it away. Carefully she proceeded, gliding the razor over his skin in the smoothest strokes she could manage.

His breath drifted her way as heat from his body radiated out, surrounding her. Cocooned in Zane’s warmth, she fought an unwelcome attraction to him by thinking of Steven, the man who’d shattered her faith. And that reminder worked. Thoughts of Steven could destroy any thrilling moment in her life. She dipped the razor into the sink and shook it off. Zane’s gaze left the mirror, and as she lifted her eyes to his, there in that moment, a sudden surprising sizzle passed between them.

One, two, three seconds went by.

And then he focused his attention back on the mirror, keeping a silent vigil on her reflection.

“How are you holding up?” she asked, breaking the quiet tension.

“Am I bleeding?”

Her lips hitched at his intense tone. “No.”

“Then, I’m good.”

Yes. Yes, he was.

“Okay, now for your throat. Chin up, please.”

He obeyed without quarrel. Gosh, he really did trust her. Something warm slid into her belly, and the feeling clung to her as she finished up his shave.

“All done,” she said after another minute. “Not a nick on you, I might add.” At least one of them had come out of this unscathed.

“I think I hear Mrs. Lopez tinkering in the kitchen now.” She handed him his razor and jumped down from the counter. “Do you want breakfast? Coffee?”

She was partway out the door when Zane caught her arm just above the elbow. He looked gorgeous in his white ribbed tank, his face and throat shaved clean but for the last traces of shave cream. “Just a sec. I haven’t thanked you. And you don’t have to worry about breakfast for me.”

“I don’t?”

“No. That’s not part of your job description.”

Well, duh. She knew that. Mariah hadn’t served him his meals, but Jessica couldn’t very well tell him she’d run her mouth in order to get away from him as quickly as possible.

“We’ll go over what I expect of you as my assistant this morning. Thanks for the shave.” He slid his hands down his smooth face, and his eyes filled with admiration. “Feels great. You’re pretty good.”

She swallowed. Did this mean she’d have to shave him every day?

Gosh, she really didn’t think this through thoroughly enough.

“Thanks. Well, I’ll see you at breakfast.”

“Oh, and Jess?”

“Yeah?”

He released her arm. “I’m glad you’ll be staying on. I do need your help. And I think you’ll enjoy it, but whenever you’re ready to head home, I’ll...understand.”

“Thanks, Zane. I’ll do my best.”

* * *

Four hours later, Jessica sat behind the desk in Zane’s office, satisfied she had things under control. It had been a little scary at first. What did she really know about Zane’s celebrity life? But Mariah had been acutely efficient, keeping good records and documenting things, which made it easier for Jess to slide into the role of personal assistant. She seemed to live by a detailed calendar, and Zane’s appointments, events and meetings were clearly labeled. Thank you, Mariah, for not being a slouch. In the day planner she came to regard as The Book, Mariah had jotted down phone numbers next to names and brief reminders of what needed to be said or done.

No to the People magazine interview.

Yes to donating twenty thousand dollars to the Children’s Hospital charity. Zane would make an appearance in the future.

No to an appearance on The Ellen DeGeneres Show.

And so on.

With a little help from Zane earlier this morning, she was able to field a few phone calls and make the necessary arrangements for him. It was clear Zane was in a state of celebrity hibernation. Other than opening a new restaurant, Zane was pretty much in a deep freeze. Maybe he needed the break away from the limelight, or maybe he wasn’t through running away from his demons.

In a sense, she was doing the same thing by being here, afraid to go home, afraid to face the pitfalls in her own life. She, too, was hiding out, so she had no right to judge him or try to fix the situation. It wasn’t any of her business. That was for sure.

“How’re you doing?” he asked.

She glanced up from The Book to find him standing at the office threshold, leaning on his crutches. She flashed back to shaving him this morning and the baffling emotions that followed her into breakfast. Her heart tumbled a little.

“Good, I think.”

He smiled. “Anything I can help you with?”

“No, not at the moment.”

He didn’t leave. He didn’t enter the room.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked.

“Sort of.” His lips twisted back and forth. “You see, Dylan’s bugging me about this script. Fact is, I don’t know if acting is right for me. I never had an acting lesson in my life. So I want to say no to him. But...”

She braced her elbows on the desk and leaned forward. “But, just maybe it’s something you want to do?”

He stared at her. “Hell, I don’t know, Jess. I guess I need a reason to say no.”

“And how can I help you with that?”

“Dylan’s got this idea that if I had someone run lines with me, I’d feel better about accepting the role. Or not. I didn’t ask Mariah, well...because she works for me and I’m not sure she would be—”

“Honest?”

“Objective. She tends to encourage me to try new things, so she might not be the person to ask.”

“So you’re saying I’d have no problem telling you ‘you suck’?”

He chuckled. “Would you?”

“No, no problem at all.”

His brows gathered. “I’m not sure how to take that.”

“I’d have only your best interests at heart. But honestly, Zane, what do I know about acting? What if my instincts aren’t dead-on? What if I get it wrong?”

“Bad acting is bad acting. You can tell if someone sings off-key, can’t you?”

“Sometimes, but my ear for music isn’t as good as yours.”

“But you’re real, Jess. You would know when something is authentic. That’s all I’m asking you to do.”

His faith in her was a heady thing. She couldn’t deny she was flattered. And as his personal assistant, she couldn’t really tell him she didn’t want to do it.

“Okay. What did you have in mind?”

“We read through some scenes. See if I can grasp the character.”

“Where?”

He pointed to the long beige leather sofa—the most comfortable place to sleep in Zane’s world. “Right here.” He hobbled into the room on his crutches and sank down, resting the crutches on the floor. “The script is behind you on the bookcase. If you could get it and bring it over...”

“Sure.” She turned and found it quickly. “Wildflower?”

“That’s the one. You know most of the story.”

She did. She was there when Dylan explained the premise of the romantic mystery to both of them the other day. It was about a man who comes home to his family’s ranch after a long estrangement and finds his brother romantically involved with the woman he’d left behind. There’s a mystery surrounding their father’s death and a whole cast of characters who are implicated, including both brothers. “I think it’s a good story, Zane.”

“Well, let’s see if I can do it justice.”

“Sure.”

She walked over to the couch and took a seat one cushion away from him.

“I don’t think that’s going to work,” Zane said. “You have to sit next to me.” He waved the script in the air. “There’s only one of these.”

“Right.” As she scooted closer to him, Zane’s eyes flicked over her legs and lingered for half a second. Oh, boy. The back of her neck prickled with heat. In a subtle move, she adjusted her position and lowered the shorts riding up her legs to midthigh. Zane didn’t seem to notice. He’d focused back on the script and was busy flipping through story pages.

“Okay, here’s a scene we can do together. It’s where Josh and Bridget meet for the first time since his return.”

She peered at the pages and read the lines silently. It was easy enough to follow. There were one or two sentences of description to set up the scene and action taking place. The rest was dialogue, and each character’s part was designated by a name printed in bold letters.

“You start first,” he said, pointing to the top of the page. “Where Josh speaks to Bridget in front of her house.”

“Okay, here goes.” She glanced at him and smiled.

He didn’t smile back. He was taking this very seriously. She cleared her throat and concentrated on the lines before her. “Josh? You’re home? When did you get back? I...I didn’t know you’d come.”

“My father is dead. You thought I wouldn’t return for his burial?”

“No. I mean...it’s just that you’ve been gone so long.”

“So you wrote me off?”

A note of anger came through in Zane’s voice. It was perfect.

“That’s not how it happened. You left me, remember? You said you couldn’t take living here anymore.”

“I gave you a choice, Bridget. You didn’t choose me.”

“That wasn’t a choice. You asked me to leave everything behind. My family, my friends, my job and a town I love. I don’t hate the way you do.”

“You think I hate this place?”

“Don’t you?”

“Once, I loved everything about this place. Including you.”

Jessica stared at him. The way he dropped his voice to a gravelly tone and spoke his lines was so real, so genuine, it impressed the hell out of her.

“But you’ve moved on.” Now Zane’s voice turned cold. He had a definite knack for dialogue. “With my brother.”

They read the next three pages, bantering back and forth, learning the characters and living them. The scene was intense, and Zane held his own. He had a lot of angst inside him and found his release using the screenwriter’s words on the page.

The scene was almost finished. Just a few more lines to go.

“Don’t come back here, Josh,” she said, meeting Zane’s eyes. “I don’t want to see you again.”

Zane was really into the character now. “That’s too bad, Bridget.” The depth of his emotion had her believing. “I’m back to stay.”

“I’m going to marry your brother.”

“Like hell you are,” Zane said fiercely, leaning toward Jessica, his face inches from hers.

“Don’t...Josh...don’t mess with my life again.”

“This is where he grabs her and kisses her,” Zane whispered. His breath swept over her mouth, and she found herself wanting to be kissed. By Zane. Heat crept up her throat and burned her cheeks.

Zane glanced at her mouth. Was he thinking the same thing? Did he want to kiss her?

He was a man she trusted. He was a man she truly liked. “Do you want to, uh, bypass the kiss?”

He shook his head, his gaze dropping to her mouth. “No,” he rasped. “I don’t.”

Her pulse pounded as he took her head in his hands and caressed the sides of her overheated cheeks with his long, slender fingers. Her head was tilted slightly to the left, and then his mouth lowered to hers. He touched her lips gently, and she felt the beautiful connection from the depths of her soul. Was she supposed to stay in character? How would she accomplish that? Everything inside her was spinning like crazy.

The script called for a brutal, crushing kiss, but this kiss was nothing like that. His lips were firm and giving and generous...pure heaven.

“I’m not through messing with your life, Bridget.” The gravel in his voice convinced her. He did harsh perfectly. “I might never be through.”

As Zane backed away, his gaze remained on her. He blinked a few times, as if coming to his senses, and then cleared his throat.

The air sizzled around her. Was Zane feeling it, too? She didn’t know where to look, what to say.

“It’s your line,” Zane whispered.

Oh! She glanced at the page and read her last line. “I—I can’t do this again, Josh.”

Zane paused for a second, glaring at her for a beat. “I’m not gonna give you a choice this time.”

There. They’d made it through the entire scene. Zane flipped the script closed, and as he braced his elbows on his knees, he leaned forward.

Her heart was zipping along. She needed space, a few inches of separation from Zane. She flopped back against the sofa and silently sighed.

“Thank you,” Zane said quietly.

“Hmm.”

“Now for the hard part. I respect your opinion. No hard feelings either way, so lay it on me.”

He’d convinced her he could act. Aside from the kiss that still had her reeling, she was completely enthralled with his character. He’d stepped into Josh’s shoes without a bit of awkwardness. “I’m no expert, but I know when something’s good. I’d say you were a natural, Zane.”

He leaned back and looked into her eyes. Oh, God. She didn’t want him to notice how nervous she was. “You really think so?”

“I do. You dove into that character and had me believing.”

He stroked his jaw and sighed.

“I’m sorry if you wanted to hear you stink at acting. But I don’t think so.”

A crooked smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “I admit, I was hoping that was the case. Makes my decision harder now.”

“Sorry?” she squeaked.

He released a noisy breath. “Don’t be. I asked for your opinion. I appreciate you, Jess,” he said. “I trust your judgment. I, uh...sort of got caught up in the scene. Hope you didn’t mind about the little kiss I gave you.”

Little kiss? If that was his little kiss, what would a real, genuine, from-the-heart kiss feel like from her one time brother-in-law? He didn’t know the kiss had sent her senses soaring, and it would have to stay that way.

She’d never admit she’d wanted to kiss him. He was her brother-in-law, for heaven’s sake. He was her employer now. And he was a good, decent man who’d never take advantage of her situation. She knew all that about Zane.

Of course he’d wanted to stay true to the script. He’d delved so deeply into character that he didn’t want to lose the momentum of the scene. But, oh...for that brief moment when he’d looked into her eyes and her heartbeat soared, she believed he, Zane Williams, really wanted to kiss her.

And it had been a wow moment. “No, I didn’t mind at all.”

Her cell phone on the desk rang and she jumped up to answer it. “Oh, uh, excuse me, Zane. It’s Mama.”

“Sure.”

He began to rise, and she put up her hand. She wasn’t going to have him leave his own office. “No, don’t get up. I’ll take it in my room.” Her mother’s timing couldn’t have been better. She needed to get away from Zane and the silly notions entering her head.

She walked out of the office and climbed the stairs. “Hi, Mama.”

“Hi, honey. How’re you doing this afternoon? Oh, I guess it’s still morning there.”

“Yes, it’s just before noon. I’m doing fine.” Her heartbeat had finally slinked down to normal since Zane’s kiss a few minutes ago.

“Really?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” It was weird how distance and the new surroundings made her see things differently. She wasn’t thrilled with the way her life was turning out—she’d invested a lot of time on Steven Monahan—but she didn’t need to worry her mother over it. Right now, she was taking it one day at a time. “Actually, I’m glad you called this morning. I have news. Zane’s personal assistant, Mariah, had to take a leave of absence. Her mother’s very ill and, well, since I’m here and Zane needs help, he’s asked me to take over the position. It’s temporary, but I won’t be coming home this week or the next, probably. I might be here longer than that.”

“Oh, that’s good, honey.”

“It is?” There was something in her mother’s too-cheerful tone that raised her suspicions. She entered her bedroom wondering what was up? “What I mean to say is, I’m sorry Mariah’s mother is ill. Bless her heart. I’ll be sure to say a prayer for her. But you staying there for a little longer might be best for you, after all.”

Really? Her overprotective mother—the woman who had set her alarm at 3 a.m. every night to get up and check on her two sleeping little girls when they were young, the woman who’d worried and fretted during their teen years, and the woman who, after Jessica’s disastrous nonwedding, arranged for her to move into Zane’s house just so he could keep an eye on her—that mother was actually glad that she wasn’t coming home anytime soon?

Now she knew something was going on.

She lowered herself onto the bed. “Why, Mom? What’s happened?”

“I hate to tell you this, honey. But better it come from me than you hear about it another way.”

Her heart nearly stopped. Was her mother ill? Was it something severe? She flashed back to Janie’s death. How the news had seemed unreal. She’d gotten physically sick, acid drenching her stomach and her breaths coming in short, uneven bursts. Now she held her breath. “Please, just tell me.”

“Okay, honey. I’m sorry...but I just found out that your Steven eloped with Judy McGinnis. They just up and left town two nights ago. Went to Vegas, I hear. The whole town’s crackling about it.”

“W-with Judy?”

“I’m afraid so. I never expected that from Judy. Honey, are you okay?”

She might never be okay again. She’d just learned that the man she’d banked on for three full years, the man who had sworn up and down in her dressing room on their wedding day that he wasn’t ready for marriage and that it wasn’t anything she’d done, had just gotten married. The fault was all his for not recognizing his problem sooner, he’d told her. She’d believed he had commitment issues. But now she knew the truth. He wasn’t ready for marriage to her. Instead, he chose one of her bridesmaids to speak vows with.

Judy had been her friend since grade school. Oh, God. She’d accepted losing Steven and any future they might’ve had together, but losing Judy’s friendship, too? That was a double blow to her self-esteem. They’d both betrayed her. Made a fool out of her. She hadn’t seen the signs. How long had Judy and Steven been hooking up behind her back?

Her eyes burned with unshed tears.

Being here and having a new sense of purpose in helping Zane, she was beginning to feel better and gain control of her emotions. But now, fresh new pain seared her from the inside out. What an idiot she’d been. That was the worst part of all, this hopeless sense of loss of herself. Her heart ached in a way it never had before. She felt herself slipping away.

She couldn’t give in to it. If she did, she’d be totally lost. She couldn’t dwell. She wouldn’t let their betrayal dictate her life. She wouldn’t curl into a pitiful ball and let the world spin without her.

“Jessica?”

“I’m going to be fine, Mama. I just need some time to digest this.”

“I’m here if you need me, honey. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I know. I love you. I’ll call you tonight. Bye for now.”

Jessica pushed End on her cell phone and faced the mirror. Her mousy-brown-haired reflection stared back at her through tortoiseshell-rimmed glasses. “What’s happened to you, Jess?” she muttered.

She was tired of feeling like crap. Being a victim didn’t suit her. She wasn’t going to put up with it another second. The old Jessica had to go.

It was time for her to take hold of her life.

* * *

Afternoon breezes whispered through Zane’s hair as he sat on his deck, gazing out to sea. Dylan McKay sat beside him, sipping a glass of iced tea. He didn’t mind Dylan’s company as long as he wasn’t pressuring him about taking on an acting role.

“How soon before you’re all healed up and ready to start living again?” Dylan asked.

Not soon enough for him. The confinement was getting to him. The only good thing about being temporarily disabled was that he didn’t have to make any decisions right away. And he was milking that for all it was worth.

“The blasted boot comes off on Monday.”

“And how’s the wrist doing?”

His wrist? He flashed to trying to shave himself this morning. He’d been hopeless. Mariah usually took him to the barber twice a week. He hated being so damn helpless, and Jess had rescued him. She’d given him a clean, smooth shave and for a second there, as she leaned in close to him, her honeyed breath mingled with his and his body zinged to life. Electricity stifled his breathing for those few moments.

Jess?

He’d written it off as nothing and gone about his business.

Then he’d asked Jess to read lines with him. He’d gotten so caught up in the scene that when it came time to kiss her...he didn’t want to deny himself the opportunity. Had it been only because the scene demanded a kiss? Or had it been something more?

A tick worked his jaw. It damn well couldn’t be something more.

Though kissing her soft giving mouth packed a wallop. He’d forgotten what it felt like to have a sweet woman respond to him. He’d backed off immediately and didn’t dare take it any further. The complication was the last thing either of them needed.

“My wrist should be healed soon, too...with any luck.” He wiggled the tips of his fingers unencumbered by the cast. “I can’t do a damn thing left-handed. You have no idea how uncoordinated you really are until you lose the use of your right hand.”

“I hear you. How long will Mariah be gone?”

“Not sure. I spoke with her this morning. Her mom might have some permanent paralysis. Mariah’s pretty torn up about it.”

“So it’s just you and Jessica now, living in this itty-bitty ole house?”

Zane rolled his eyes. The house was enormous, much more than he needed. He was hardly bumping into her in the hallway in the middle of the night.

Now, there was a thought. He struck that from his mind.

“She’s taken on Mariah’s duties here.”

“You hired her?”

Zane nodded. Dylan didn’t need to know that having Jessica around made him feel closer to Janie. She, above everyone else, understood the loss he felt. They shared that horrific pain together. Jess was home to him, without him having to return to Beckon. He liked that about her. So maybe it was selfish of him to ask her to stay on, but he hadn’t pressured her. Much. He’d like to think she wanted to stay.

“I did. I didn’t have a backup for Mariah. You know as well as I do it’s hard to find a replacement for a trusted employee. I trust Jess. She’ll do her best.”

Dylan eyed him carefully. “You sure sing her praises.”

“She’s bright and learns quickly.” He shrugged. “She’s family.”

“You keep saying that.”

“It’s true. Why wouldn’t I say it?”

Dylan flashed a wry smile and then shook his head. “No real reason, I guess. Any chance I can convince you to be my costar before you head back on tour?”

“I haven’t made up my mind yet, McKay. I told you I’m not making you any promises.”

“Yeah, yeah. So I’ve heard. Remember what they say about people who drag their feet.”

“No, what the hell do they say?”

“They risk getting them cut off at the ankles.”

He laughed. “I should be flattered you’re so persistent. Honestly, if I lose the role to someone else, so be it. I’m not sure.” About anything, he wanted to add.

“Buddy, you’re not going to lose the role to someone else. I’m the executive producer, and I see you doing this character.”

“You want my fan base.”

“That, too. I’d be a fool not to want to reel in your fans. I know they’d turn out for you. But I have no doubt in my mind you’d be—”

“Zane?” A sultry voice carried to the deck. His heart stopped for a second. Sometimes, when he was least expecting it, Jess would call out his name and he’d swear it was Janie asking for him.

“Out here,” he called to her.

Jessica popped her head out the doorway. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you had a guest.”

“Hi,” Dylan said. “How’re you doing, Jess?” Dylan sent her a brilliant smile. The guy could charm a billy goat out of a field of alfalfa.

“Hi, Dylan.”

“Come on out here, Jess.” Zane hadn’t seen much of her since they’d run lines and kissed earlier in the day. He’d heard her working in the office, but she hadn’t asked for his help, and he’d let her be. “Have a cool drink with us?”

“Uh, no thanks,” she said, taking a few steps toward them. She wore a loose-fitting flowery sundress. Her hair was up in a ponytail, and a straw satchel hung from her shoulder. “Actually, I finished up what I could this afternoon. I was hoping to go shopping now. I wanted to see if you needed anything while I was out.”

“Oh, yeah? What are you shopping for?” Was he so dang bored that he had to nose into Jessica’s private business?

“I, uh, didn’t bring enough clothes with me. I thought I’d pick up a few things.”

“Hey, I know a great little boutique in the canyon,” Dylan said. “I’d be happy to drive you there.”

Zane swiveled his head toward Dylan. Was he kidding?

Jessica chuckled. “Thanks, that’s a kind offer, but I’m good. I’m anxious to explore and see what I can find.”

“Gotcha,” Dylan said. “A little me time. I hope Zane hasn’t been working you too hard.”

“Not at all. I’m enjoying the work.” With her finger, she pushed her sunglasses up her nose. She did that when she was nervous, and obviously, Dylan McKay made her nervous. Zane wasn’t sure that was a good thing. He inhaled deep into his chest. Jessica was vulnerable right now, and she didn’t need Dylan hitting on her.

“But you’re both coming to the party tomorrow night, right?” Another charming smile creased his neighbor’s face.

“Nope, sorry,” Zane said. “We’re not available.”

Jessica faced him a second and blinked, then shifted her focus to Dylan. “Actually, I’ve changed my mind. I’d love to come. What time?”

Dylan’s grin seemed to spread wider than the ocean view. “Six o’clock.”

“I’ll be there.”

“You will?” Zane asked. They’d both decided on not going.

She nodded. “Sure, why not? Sounds like fun.”

Zane couldn’t argue the point. If she wanted to go to Dylan’s little party, he had no right to stop her. “Well, then...I guess we’re coming.”

“We?” Jessica asked. A genuine spark of delight lit her expression. “You’re going now? That’s great, Zane.”

He shrugged it off but couldn’t stop his chest from puffing out. Why did it make him so doggone happy that Jessica wanted him around?

“Well, I’d better be off. Zane, is it still okay that I take one of your cars?”

“Yep. You know where the keys are in the office.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll take the SUV. Bye for now,” she said. She pivoted and walked back into the house.

“She’s nice,” Dylan said.

“Very nice. ”

“Too nice for me? Are you warning me off?”

“Damn straight I am.” Zane eyed him. “You know darn well Jessica isn’t your type. So stay away. I’m serious. She’s had it rough lately.”

The patio chair creaked as Dylan leaned over the arm and focused on him. “You like her?”

“Of course I like her. She’s like my...” But this time Zane couldn’t finish his thought. He couldn’t say she was like a sister to him. An image of taking her mouth in a daring kiss burst through his mind again. In that moment, he’d forgotten she was Janie’s sister. All that filled his mind was how sweet and soft her lips were. How much he wanted to go on kissing her. He’d felt at peace with Jess, yet electrified at the same time.

He’d had women in the past to satisfy his physical needs. He hadn’t been a total saint after Janie died, but he hadn’t had a real relationship, either, and he sure as hell wasn’t going in headfirst with Jessica. So why in hell was the memory of kissing her earlier torturing him?

“I meant you want her for yourself.”

Zane snorted. “Are you not hearing what I’m saying? She’s off-limits. To everyone. She has a lot of healing to do. Until then, no one gets near her.” He’d promised her mother he’d protect her and make sure she didn’t get hurt again.

“Okay, okay. I get it, Papa Bear. Now, let’s get back to the script. I think Josh’s character is perfect for you, like it was written with you in mind.”

For once, Zane was grateful the subject changed to his possible acting career.

Five

Thank goodness for credit cards. They gave Jessica the freedom to spend, spend, spend at the boutique Mariah had once raved about. She scoured the golden wardrobe racks at Misty Blue, and every time something struck her as daring and unlike her small-town schoolmarm image, she handed it to Misty Blue’s attire concierge to put aside for her to try on. Sybil, the thirtysomething saleswoman, was dogging her, making suggestions and flattering her at every turn.

“Oh, you must have that,” and “you’ll never find a better fit,” and “you’ll be the envy of every woman on Moonlight Beach,” were her mantras.

Jessica ate up her compliments. Why not? She needed them as much as she needed to buy a whole new wardrobe. The old Jessica was put to rest the minute she’d heard about her so-called good friend eloping with her fiancé. So be it. Jessica would return to Beckon a new woman.

Her clothes would be stylish. Her attitude would brook no pity. And she’d have a few thousand dollars less in her very tidy bankroll.

Saving money wasn’t everything.

“I’ll just put these items in your dressing room,” Sybil announced. “Take your time looking around. When you’re ready, you’ll be in the Waves room.”

Jessica blinked. Even the dressing rooms had names. “Okay, thank you.”

She moved around the boutique slowly, taking her time perusing the shelves and racks. She picked out a two-piece bathing suit, a few hip-hugging dresses, two pairs of designer slim-cut jeans, and four blouses in varying colors and styles.

Sybil came racing forward. “Let me take those off your hands, too. I’ll put them in the dressing room.”

She transferred the clothes into Sybil’s outstretched arms. “Thanks.”

“Would you like to keep shopping?”

Jessica eyed several pairs of shoes on top of a lovely glass display case. “Yes, I’ll need some shoes, too.”

“I’ll have Carmine, our shoe attendant, help you with that.”

Thirty minutes later, Jessica glanced around the Waves dressing room. Clothes hung on every pretty golden hook, and shoes dotted the floor around her feet. She’d gone a bit hog-wild in her choices and needed guidance from someone who knew her well. She punched the speed dial on her cell phone and was relieved when her best friend, Sally, answered.

“Help me, Sally. I need your honest opinion,” she whispered. “I texted you pictures of five of the dresses I’ve tried on. Did you get them?”

“Sure did. I’m looking at them now.”

“Good.” The inventor of cell phone technology was a genius. It made shopping a whole lot easier. “Which ones do you like?”

“Gosh, none of them look bad on you. You have a great figure,” Sally said, almost in disbelief. “You’ve been hiding it.”

“I guess I have.” She’d never been comfortable with her busty appearance and had always chosen clothes to hide rather than highlight her figure. Now, all bets were off.

“Did you like the red one?”

“Definitely the red. That’s a given,” Sally said. “Whose eyeballs are you trying to ruin?”

“What do you mean?”

“That dress is an eye-popper.”

She pictured Zane. Why had he come to mind so easily? It was ridiculous and yet, something had hummed in her heart when he’d kissed her today. He’d been caught up in the scene. She shouldn’t make a darn thing out of it. But she was having a hard time forgetting the feel of his lips claiming hers. As short as the kiss was, it had been potent enough to shoot endorphins through her body. That wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

“Do you think maybe I shouldn’t be doing this?” she asked Sally, her bravado fading.

“Doing what? Pampering yourself? Spending some of your hard-earned money on yourself? Indulging a little? I’m only sorry I’m not there to help you with your TLC gone wild. Believe me, if I could swing it, I’d hop on a plane today.”

She chuckled. “TLC gone wild? That’s a new one, Sal.”

“I’m clever. What can I say? Buy the clothes, Jess. I’ll let you decide on the shoes, but those red stiletto heels will kick some major butt. Oh, and while you’re at it, lose the eyeglasses. You brought your contacts, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I have them.”

“Well, use them. If you’re going to do it, do it right.”

Of course, Sally was dead-on. If she was going to invest in these clothes, she had to go all the way. She’d already decided to ditch her tortoiseshell glasses. Her hair could use some highlights, and her California tan was coming along nicely. Already she felt better about herself.

“And Sal, I wish you could come out here. It’s really...nice.”

“I bet. Zane’s place sounds like heaven. Right on the beach. I bet you don’t even have any swamp heat and humidity.”

“Nope, not like home.”

“Tell me you haven’t met any big movie stars and I swear I won’t be jealous.”

“I, uh, well,” her voice squeaked.

“Who? Tell me or I’ll haunt you into forever.”

“Would you believe Dylan McKay lives two doors down?” Jessica squeezed her eyes shut, anticipating the bombardment. No one was a bigger fan of the Hollywood heartthrob than her bestie Sally.

“You’ve met him?”

“Yes, I sort of ran into him on the beach.” Or rather, the other way around—he’d run into her. “He’s a friend of Zane’s.”

“No way! I can’t believe it. Tell me everything.”

A knock on the dressing-room door startled her, and she jumped. She’d forgotten where she was.

“Miss Holcomb, can I help you with anything?” Sybil asked.

“Whoops, gotta go,” she said in a low voice. “I’ve got to get dressed. I’ll call you later.”

“You better!”

Jessica smiled as she ended the call and answered the saleswoman. “No thanks. I’m doing great.

“I’ll be out in one minute.”

“You sound happy. Find anything to your liking?”

“Just about everything,” she answered.

She imagined the attire concierge who worked on commission smiling on the other side of the door.

Her purchases today would make both of them happy.

* * *

Zane had received a text message from Jessica half an hour ago telling him not to wait for her to have his meal. She was going to be late. But he didn’t feel much like eating without her. It had taken Jessica living here for him to realize he’d eaten too many meals alone.

She must’ve gotten carried away on her little shopping spree.

When Jessica finally pulled through the gates, driving toward the garage, Zane made his way to the living room and, with the grace of an ox, plunked down onto the sofa.

A minute later the door opened into the back foyer, and he heard the crunch of bags and footsteps approaching. He picked up a magazine and flipped through the pages.

“Hi, Zane,” Jessica said. Her voice sounded breezy and carefree. “Sorry I’m so late.”

When he lifted his head, he found her loaded down with shopping bags. “Did you buy out the store?”

She chuckled from a warm and deep place in her throat. “Let’s just say the store manager couldn’t do enough for me. They offered me a vanilla latte and a chocolate mini croissant, and the shoe salesman almost gave me a foot massage.”

His brows gathered. “A foot massage?”

“I told him no. I didn’t have time. Is that done here?”

“I don’t know if it’s done anywhere,” Zane said. For heaven’s sake, she was buying shoes, not asking for a damn foot rub. His nerves started to sizzle. He studied the assortment of shiny teal-blue bags she held. “Where did you go?”

“Misty Blue. Mariah recommended the shop to me. It’s just up the coast.”

“Leave it to Mariah,” Zane muttered. She had impeccable taste, but she could be indulgent at times.

“Speaking of Mariah, have you heard from her today?”

“Yes, we spoke earlier this morning. Do you need to talk to her about anything in particular?”

She shook her head and lowered her packages to the floor, releasing the handles. “I’m managing for right now.” She walked over to lean her elbows on the back of his angular sofa. From his spot on the couch, he had a clear view of her face. “How is her mother doing?”

Zane shook his head. “Not great.” He was lucky his mother and father were in their seventies and still quite active living in a retirement community in Arizona. He saw them several times a year. And when something like this happened, he thought about spending more time with them. “Mariah said her mom might have some permanent damage from the stroke, but it’s too soon to tell. She spends most of her day at the hospital or meeting with doctors.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, me, too. And with all that, she asked about you. She made me promise to have you call her with any questions.”

Jessica sent him a rigid look. “Unless it’s an emergency, I’m not going to call her, Zane. You and I both know what it’s like having to deal with a family crisis.”

A lump formed in his throat. “Yeah. I agree, and I told her as much. There’s nothing so important that it can’t wait. Between the two of us, we’ll figure out what needs figuring from this end.”

“Right. Hey, I almost forgot. I bought you a present.”

His heavy heart lightened. “You did?”

She bent to forage in one of the bags and came up holding a long, shiny black box. It wasn’t a gift from Misty Blue, that was for sure. She stretched as far as her arms could reach, eyeing the box carefully one last time, before handing it over. “I, uh, hope this doesn’t upset you, but I know how much you loved the one Janie got you, and, well...this one is from me.”

Her fingers gently brushed over his hand, and her caring touch seized his heart for a moment. With his good hand, he managed to lift the lid and gaze at his gift. He found himself momentarily speechless. It was an almost identical replica of a bolo tie with a turquoise stone set on a stamped silver backing that Janie had given him on the anniversary of their first date. It had been lost in the fire, and he’d never replaced it. It wouldn’t have had the same sentimental meaning. But the fact that Jessica gave it to him meant something. He lifted the rope tie out of the box and shifted his gaze to her. “It’s a thoughtful gift, Jess.”

“I know you treasured the first one. I helped Janie pick it out, so I remember exactly what it looked like.”

“You didn’t have to do this.” But he was glad she had.

“You’re putting a roof over my head and feeding me, but more importantly, being here is helping me heal. It’s the least I could do for you. And I wanted it to be...something special.”

“It is. Very special.”

He rose from the sofa, found his footing and, using his crutches, shuffled over to her. He gazed through the lenses of her glasses to dewy, softly speckled green eyes. They were warm and friendly and genuine. He bent to kiss her forehead the way a brother would a sister, but then awareness flickered in her eyes, and he felt it, too. He lowered his mouth, heady in his need to taste the giving warmth of her lips again. When he touched his mouth to hers, he savored her sweetness and assigned this moment to memory for safekeeping. He backed away just in time to keep the kiss to one of thanks. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Her deep, sultry voice thrilled him and churned his stomach at the same time. She sounded so much like Janie.

“I haven’t had dinner yet. I waited for you. Mrs. Lopez put our meal in the oven to keep warm. Are you hungry?”

“Starving,” she said. “Shopping is tough. I worked up an appetite.”

He laughed. The women he knew loved to shop and spend endlessly. He’d never heard one remark about hard work.

“I’ll put the bags away in my room. Meet you in the kitchen?”

He nodded. He hated that he couldn’t offer to help her. He watched her climb the stairway holding three maxed-out shopping bags in one hand and two in the other. The next time she wanted to shop, he’d be damn ready to take the packages off her hands and carry them upstairs for her.

Zane made his way into the kitchen. Mrs. Lopez had left chicken and dumplings warming in the oven. Zane lifted a periwinkle-striped kitchen towel tucked over a basket and eyed cheesy biscuits, still warm. He dipped into the basket and sank his teeth into a biscuit. Warmth spread throughout his mouth and reminded him he was ready for a hearty meal.

“Wow, smells good in here.” Jessica entered the kitchen.

“Mrs. Lopez made one of my favorites tonight.”

“In that case, I’m surprised you waited for me.”

“I figured a Southern girl like you would appreciate sharing chicken and dumplings. It’s my mother’s recipe.”

“You figured right. Well, then. Have a seat.” She gestured to the table. “I’ll dish it up. Unless you want to eat outside?”

He shook his head. The sun had already set, and winds howled over the shoreline, spraying sand everywhere. “Here is just fine.”

Before he knew it, the table was set, plates were dished up and he had the company of one of his favorite people sitting across from him.

The chicken was tender, the dumplings melted in his mouth and Zane spent the next few minutes quietly diving into his meal. He liked that he could sit in silence with Jess without feeling as though he had to entertain her. She was as comfortable with the quiet as he was.

“Mmm, this was so good.” Jess took a last bite of food, and as she wiped her mouth, his gaze drifted down to where the napkin touched her lips. “I’ll have to steal the recipe from Mrs. Lopez and make it for my mother when I get home.”

“No problem.” He shouldn’t be noticing the things he was noticing about Jess. Like the cute way she pushed her glasses up her nose, or the way she smelled right after a shower, or how her light skin had burnished to a golden tone from days of sunbathing. The sound of her voice dug deep into his gut. Janie and Jess were the only two women he knew that had a low, raspy yet very feminine voice. Janie had been sultry, sexy, alluring, but...Jess?

“Zane?”

He lifted his gaze to her meadow-green eyes.

“You went someplace just now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry. Are you okay?”

He nodded and cleared his throat. “So, did you have fun shopping today?”

“Fun?” Her head tilted as a slow, easy smile spread across her face. “I had an attire concierge help me. That was weirdly entertaining. She dogged my every step but was nice as can be. Actually my best friend, Sally, helped me make the right choices. Sally was my maid of honor in the wedding that never was.”

“Is your friend in town?”

She laughed and shook her head. “No, not at all. I texted her pictures of the clothes I tried on, and she helped me decide. I’m so not a shopper.”

“Ah, the power of technology.”

“Yeah, ain’t it great?”

It beat having Dylan McKay help her shop. Zane wasn’t about to allow that to happen.

A heartbreaking ladies’ man was the last thing sweet Jess needed in her life right now.

“Actually, it is pretty great. I’m glad you had a good day.”

“I plan to have a lot of good days from now on.” A glint of something resolute beamed in her eyes, her face an open expression of hope.

Jess was healing, and that was a good thing. He liked seeing her feeling better. That was the whole point of her coming here. But it seemed too soon. And she seemed a little too happy for a woman who’d been betrayed and heartbroken. Right now, Jessica Holcomb looked ready to conquer the world, or at least Moonlight Beach. Instincts that rarely failed him told him something else was going on with Jess.

And he didn’t know if he was going to like it.

* * *

“Hi, Zane.” Jessica stepped into the living room, dressed and ready for Dylan’s party.

Zane turned from the window... His hair was combed back, shiny and straight, the stubble on his face a reflection of not having a shave in two days. He looked gorgeous in a white billowy shirt and light khaki trousers. When his gaze fell on the new her, his lips parted and his eyes popped as he took in her appearance from the top of her head to her sandaled toes. Pain entered his eyes, and he blinked several times as if trying to make it go away. Relying on the two crutches under his arms, he straightened to his full height and sighed heavily.

“Zane?” Her lips began to quiver. What was wrong with him? “Are you all right?”

He stared at her, his expression unreadable. “I’m fine.”

“Are you? Have I done something? Don’t you like the dress?” Her mind rushed back to the clothes she’d laid out on the bed. She’d chosen the cornflower-blue sundress that accented her slender waist in a scoop-neck design that, granted, revealed more cleavage that she was comfortable with, but wasn’t indecent by any means.

His mouth opened partly, but no words tumbled forth, and then he gulped as if swallowing his words.

“What is it?” she pressed.

“You look like Janie,” he rushed out, as though once pressured, he couldn’t stop himself from saying it.

“I...do?”

How could she possibly look like Janie? Janie was stunning. She had natural beauty, a perfectly symmetrical face. She wore stylish clothes, had the prettiest long, silken hair, and oh...now she understood. Of course she and Janie resembled each other—they were sisters—but Jessica had always stood in Janie’s shadow where beauty was concerned. Her blonde-from-a-bottle hair color had turned out a little less dark honey and much more sweet wheat, similar to Janie’s hair color. Jessica didn’t usually wear her contacts, but she imagined her eyes looked more vibrant green than ever before. Like Janie’s brilliant gemstone eyes. Did Zane think he was seeing a ghost of his former wife? She didn’t believe she looked enough like Janie for that and never thought about how it might appear. “I, um, wasn’t trying to, but I take that as a compliment.” She shrugged, compelled to explain. “I guess I needed a change.”

An awkward moment passed between them, which was weird. They didn’t do awkward. Usually they were completely at peace with each other.

“You didn’t need to change a thing,” he said firmly.

Was he trying to make her feel better? Even she had to admit, after looking at herself in the mirror today, that her new look made her appear revitalized and well, better than she had in years. Zane had no idea what she was really going through right now, the pain, rejection, anger. He didn’t know, because she hadn’t told him. He wasn’t her shrink, her sounding board. And call it pride, but she wasn’t ready to talk about Steven’s quick marriage to her once-friend/bridesmaid to anyone, much less him. “I’m sorry if I upset you. Obviously you don’t approve. I don’t have to go tonight.”

The last thing she wanted to do was cause Zane any upheaval in his life. He was still in love with Janie. She got that. No one knew what a special person her sister was better than she did.

She was staying here thanks to Zane’s generosity. He was her employer now, too, and she had to remember that, yet underlying hurt simmered inside her. He had no idea how hard this was for her. She’d come into this room hoping for some sort of approval. She’d made a change in her appearance, but it was more than that. She looked upon this makeover as a fresh start, a way to say “screw you” to all the Stevens in the world. She’d come into this room with newfound confidence, and Zane’s dismal attitude had caused her heart to plummet. Why did it matter so much to her what Zane thought?

She pivoted on her heels, taking a step toward the staircase, and Zane’s voice boomed across the room. “Damn it, Jess. Don’t leave.”

She whirled around and stared at him. A dark storm raged in his eyes.

Was he angry with her? Maybe she should be angry with him. Maybe she’d had enough of men dictating what they wanted from her. “Is that an order from the boss?”

“Hell, no.” His head thumped against the window behind him once, twice, and then he lowered his voice. “It wasn’t an order.”

“Then what was it?”

Zane’s gaze scoured over her body again, and as he took in her appearance, approval, desire and heat entered his eyes. Her bones could have just about melted from that look. Then, with a quick shake of his head, he said, “Nothing, I guess. Jess, you don’t need my approval for anything. Fact is, you look beautiful tonight. You surprised me and, well...I don’t like surprises.”

She didn’t move. She was torn with indecision.

From the depth of his eyes, his sincerity came through. “I’m a jerk.”

Her lips almost lifted. She fought it tooth and nail, but Zane could be charming when he had to be.

“Blond hair looks great on you.”

She drew breath into her lungs.

“The dress is killer. You’re a real knockout in it.”

His compliments went straight to her head. He’d finally gotten to her. “Okay, Zane. Enough said.” She’d been touchy with him, maybe because she’d hoped to impress him a little. Maybe because, in the back of her mind, she’d wanted to please Zane or at least win his approval. “Let’s forget about this.” She didn’t like confrontation, not one bit.

“You’ll go to the party?”

She nodded. “Yes. I’m ready.”

They’d had their first real argument. Granted, it wasn’t much of one. A few minutes of tension was all. But she’d stood her ground, and she could feel good about that. One thing that loving Steven had taught her was never to turn a blind eye. From now on, she wanted to deal in absolute truth.

“You mind driving?” he asked.

“I should make you trudge through the sand all the way to Dylan’s place.”

“I’d do it if it would put a smile back on your face.”

“It’s tempting. But I’m not that cruel.”

Amused, Zane’s mouth lifted, and they seemed back on even footing again.

Whatever that was.

Six

Zane stood outside in the shadows, his shoulder braced against the wall of Dylan’s home. The setting sun cast pastel colors across the cobalt sky, and waves pounded the shoreline. The Pacific breezes had died down and no longer lifted Jessica’s blond locks into a flowing silky sheet in the wind. She stood in front of a circular fire pit on the deck. Her flowery summer dress had been a victim of the wind, too, and hell if he hadn’t noticed her hem billow up, every single time. And every single time, something powerful zinged inside him.

He couldn’t figure why Jessica had made such a drastic turnabout in her appearance. He wouldn’t have called her an ugly duckling before—she’d been perfect in her own natural way—but tonight, she’d bloomed into a beautiful swan and he feared he was in deep trouble.

He liked her. A lot. And he knew damn well she was as off-limits to him as any woman would ever be. The old Jess he could deal with. She was like his kid sister. But now, as he watched the predusk light filter through her hair and heard the sound of her sultry laughter carry to him as she spoke with Dylan and his friends, she seemed like a different woman.

Sweet Jess was a knockout, and every man here had noticed.

Dylan popped his head up from the group and gestured to him. “Come on over and join the party.”

Well, damn. He couldn’t very well stay in the shadows the entire night. He’d have to shelve his confused thoughts about Jessica and join them. He pushed off from the wall using his crutches for balance and made his way over to the fire pit.

“I thought Adam was the only recluse on the beach,” Dylan said.

“There’s a difference between savoring one’s privacy as opposed to hiding out from the world,” Adam said.

Adam Chase was his next-door neighbor, the architect of many of the homes on the beachfront and a man who didn’t give much away about himself. He’d been featured in Architectural Digest and agreed to a rare magazine interview, but mostly the man’s astonishing work spoke for itself. The one thing he’d learned about Adam in the time he’d known him was that he shied away from attention.

“He’s got you there, Dylan. Being someone who craves attention, you wouldn’t understand.” Zane zinged him because he knew Dylan was a good sport and could handle the teasing.

Dylan took Jess’s hand, entwining their fingers. “They’re ganging up on me, Jess. I need someone in my corner.”

Jess’s giggles swept over Zane, and he eyed the half-empty blended mojito she held in her other hand. She freed her hand and inched away from Dylan. It was hardly a noticeable move, except maybe to Zane, who was eyeballing her every step. “You boys are on your own. I’m staying out of this.”

Dylan slammed his hand to his chest. “Oh, you’re breaking my heart, Jess.”

Adam’s eyes flickered over Jess and touched on the valley between her breasts in the revealing sundress she wore. She was dazzling tonight, and Zane had a hard time keeping his eyes off her, too. He shouldn’t fault the guys for flirting, yet every inappropriate glance at her boiled his blood.

“You’re a smart woman, Jessica,” Adam said.

“The smartest,” Zane added. “She’s going home with me tonight.”

All eyes turned his way. Ah, hell. He’d shocked them, but no more than he’d shocked himself. He spared Dylan a glance, and the guy’s smug grin was bright enough to light the night sky. Adam’s face was unreadable, and the four others around the fire pit became awkwardly silent. “She’s my houseguest and she’s...”

“I think what Zane meant,” Jess chimed in, “was that I’ve had a tough time lately. I’m getting over a broken engagement and, well, he’s sweet enough to want to protect me.” Her eyes scanned the seven people sitting around the fire pit. “Not that I’d need protecting from anyone here. You’ve all been so nice and welcoming.”

They had. And now Zane felt like an ass for staking his claim when he had no right and for putting her in an awkward position.

“But I do make my own decisions. And I’d love to get to know each of you better.”

“You are a smart woman.” Dylan turned to Zane with genuine understanding. He and Dylan had had this conversation before. “And we all knew what Zane was getting at.”

Zane clamped his mouth shut for the moment. He’d said enough, and he had a feeling that Jessica wasn’t too thrilled with him right now. His big brother act had probably started to wear thin on her. He didn’t say boo when she walked down to the water deep in conversation with Adam Chase for a few minutes. He didn’t register an inkling of irritation when Dylan offered to give her a tour of his house. But darn if he wasn’t keenly relieved when Jessica made friends with three of the women at the party. She’d spent a good deal of time with them. He recognized one woman as an actress recently cast in a film about a Southern girl. She’d gobbled up a good deal of time asking Jess questions about Texas.

“You look like you could use a beer.” Adam handed him one of the two longnecks he clasped between his fingers.

“You read my mind. That sounds good.” Adam’s mouth twitched. The man didn’t often smile, but obviously Zane had amused him. “Right. How’s the restaurant coming?”

Zane had asked Adam for a recommendation of someone whose specialty was designing shoreline commercial establishments since Adam didn’t work with small restaurants. “We’ve broken ground. The framework is up, and we should open our doors in a few months. I’m hoping for Labor Day.”

“Glad things are going smoothly.”

He nodded. Last year, he’d opened a restaurant in Reno, and his friend and CEO of Sentinel Construction had overseen the building. But Casey’s business didn’t reach the west coast, and Adam had connections all over the world. He wound up hiring a builder Adam said was top-notch. “They seem to be.”

Adam sipped his beer. “Jessica seems like a nice girl. She said she’s indirectly related to you.”

Indirectly? Though those were true words, it still stung hearing them coming from her mouth secondhand that way. There was something painful in the truth, and if he was being gut-honest with himself, it was liberating, as well. “Uh, yeah. She was my wife’s little sis. She’s staying in Moonlight Beach for a while.”

“With you. Yes, you made that clear earlier.” Adam’s mouth hitched again. It was more animation than Zane had seen in the guy practically since he’d met him. “I’m going out on a limb here, but either you’re hooked on her, or you’ve got a bad case of Big Brother syndrome.”

Zane peered over Adam’s shoulder and caught a glimpse of Jessica speaking with a man who looked enough like Dylan to be his twin. “Who the hell is that?”

Adam swiveled his head and gave the guy a once-over. “Dylan introduced him to me before you arrived. That’s Roy. He’s Dylan’s stunt double.”

Roy and Jessica stood in the sand under the light of a tiki torch and away from the crowd of people beginning to swarm the barbecue pit, where a chef prepared food on the grill. Zane didn’t like it, but he couldn’t very well pull her away from every guy who approached her.

“So, which is it?” Adam asked.

“Which is what?” He watched Jessica laugh at something Roy said.

“Are you playing big brother? Cause if you’re not, I think you have to amp up your game, neighbor. Or you’re going to lose something special, before you know what hit you.”

Zane stared at Adam. The guy had no clue what he was talking about. Adam had no idea how hard he’d loved Janie. He had no idea how he couldn’t get past what happened. He’d tried over and over to put his emotions to lyrics, to gain some sort of closure in a song meant to honor his love for Janie, but the words wouldn’t come. “I’ve already lost—”

Adam began shaking his head. “I’m not talking about the past, Zane. I’m talking about the future.”

“Spoken by a man who rarely steps foot out of his house.”

Now Adam did laugh. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, that surprises me. Why are you?”

He shrugged. “I’ve got a temperamental artist painting a wall in my gallery. It’s going to be fantastic when he’s through, and he insists on complete privacy. I’m staying at Dylan’s for a few days.”

“Well, damn. You’re sorta here by default, then.”

“It’s not so bad. At least I got to meet Jessica and all her Southern charm.”

“Why, that’s very nice of you to say, Adam.”

A sweet strawberry scent wafted to his nostrils, announcing Jessica’s presence even before she’d uttered a word. He’d come to recognize her scent, and every time she approached, a little bitty buzz would rush through his belly. She took a place by his side, and he refrained from puffing out his chest.

“Just speaking the truth,” Adam said.

“Hey, Jess,” Zane said.

“Hey, yourself,” she said to him. He wasn’t sure if she’d been deliberately avoiding him since his dopey remark earlier, or if she was flitting around like a butterfly to make new friends. Either way, he was glad she’d come over to him.

“Having fun?”

“Sure am. I’m meeting some great people here. It was sweet of Dylan to invite me. Sorry if I abandoned you.”

He raised his beer bottle to his lips. “No problem. I spent my time keeping Adam amused.”

Jessica shot a questioning glance at Adam.

“He’s quite a party animal these days,” Adam explained, tucking his free hand into his trouser pockets.

Zane gulped the rest of his beer. He wouldn’t be here if Jessica hadn’t changed her mind about coming. “C’mon Jess. Looks like the meal’s being served. I’ve got me a hankering for some barbecue chicken.”

“Adam, will you join us?” she asked.

Adam shook his head. “I’ll see you over at the table later. I’m going to have another drink first.”

Zane began moving, and Jessica kept by his side as he headed for a table occupying the far corner of the massive patio. “Chances are we won’t see much of Adam tonight. He keeps to himself pretty much.”

“Does he?” she asked. “Why?”

“I don’t really know. We got friendly when I leased the house from him. And we had some business dealings, but I sensed he’s a loner. It’s probably why he was standing with me, over against the wall.”

“Well, he was cordial to me.”

“Yeah, I know.” Zane dipped his gaze to the swell of her breasts teasing the top of her frilly sundress. Her skin looked creamy soft and—Lord help him—inviting. With that blond hair flowing down her back and her eyes as green as a grassy meadow, she made his heart ache. “I saw the two of you walking out to the water.”

“All I did was ask him about his designs. Architecture has always fascinated me.”

“Yeah, that’s probably why he spent time with you. He loves talking shop.” Lucky for him, Jess didn’t notice the sarcasm in his voice. He managed to pull a chair out for her, crutches and all.

Man, he’d be glad to rid himself of them.

It couldn’t happen soon enough.

* * *

They’d stayed at the party a little too long. Zane was smashed, going over his liquor limit an hour ago, and now she struggled to get him out of the car. He obviously didn’t take his own advice. Hadn’t he warned her of not drinking too much, because in his handicapped state, he wouldn’t be able to help her? Well...now the shoe was on the other foot. “Hang on to me,” she said, reaching inside the car.

“Glad to, darlin’.”

He slung his arm around her shoulder, nearly pulling her onto his lap.

“Zane!”

An earthy laugh rumbled from his throat.

“Not cute.”

“Neither are y-you,” he said.

After a few seconds of maneuvering, she managed to get him upright.

“You’re b-beautiful.”

Oh, boy. She rolled her eyes and ignored his comment.

He swayed to the left. Sure-footed he was not. She leaned him up against the car. “Here.” She shoved a crutch under his arm, tucking it carefully but none too gently. “Please, please, try to concentrate.”

Maybe she should’ve taken Dylan up on his offer to drive Zane home. But Zane wouldn’t have any of it, insisting he could manage.

Men and their egos.

Now she had two hundred pounds of sheer brawn and muscle to contend with. “Lean against me, Zane. Try not to topple. Ready?”

He nodded forcefully, and his whole body coasted away from her. “Whoa!” She gripped him around the waist and tugged with all of her might to bring him close. Letting him go right now would be a disaster. “Don’t make sudden moves like that.”

“Mmm.”

He sounded happy about something. She was glad someone was enjoying this. When he seemed secure in his stance, she took a step and then another. With his body pressed to hers and one shoulder supporting his arm, she managed to get him through the garage and inside the house. By the time she made it to his bed, her strength was almost sapped. “Here we go. I’m going to let go of you now.”

“Don’t,” he said.

“Why? Are you feeling dizzy?”

He shook his head, and his arm tightened around her shoulder. She was trapped in his warmth, his heat. And as she gazed up into his eyes, they cleared. Just like that. The haze that seemed to keep him in a woozy state was gone. “No. I’m feeling pretty damn good. Because you’re here with me. Because I can’t get you out of my head.”

As if his own weight was too much to bear, he sat down, taking her with him. She plopped on the bed, and the mattress sighed. Streaming moonlight filtered into the room, and their reflection in the window bounced back at her. Two souls, searching for something that they’d lost. Was that what the attraction was?

“Are you drunk?” she asked.

“Not too much anymore.” He pushed aside her hair at her nape, his touch as gentle as a Texas breeze. He nipped her there, his teeth scraping around to the top of her throat and the sensation claimed all the breath in her lungs.

“You sobered up fast,” she whispered, barely able to form a coherent thought. Having his delicious mouth taking liberties on her neck was pure heaven.

“I know when I want something.”

His nips were heady, and she tilted her head to the side, offering him more of her throat. “Wh-what do you want?”

With his good hand under her chin, he turned her head, and then his lips were on hers, pressing firm against her softness, igniting fireworks that started with her brain and rushed all the way down to her belly. She turned to him, roping her arm around his neck, kissing him back. He smelled like pure male animal, his scent mingling with whiskey and heat. Her breasts perked up, and her nipples pebbled against the silky material of her dress.

“I want to kiss you again and again,” he rasped over her lips. “I want to touch your body and have you touch mine. I need you, too. So badly, sweetheart.”

Oh, wow. Oh, wow. Oh, wow. A fierce physical attraction pulled at her like a giant magnet. She couldn’t fight the force or the combustible chemistry between them. And Zane didn’t give her time to refuse. With his left hand, he began unbuttoning his shirt and did a lousy job of slipping the buttons free until she came to his rescue.

“Let me.” She shoved his hand away and quickly finished for him. With his shirt open now, his chest was a work of art, muscled and bronzed. She itched to touch him, to put her hands exactly where he wanted her to. She inhaled, and as she released a breath, she spread her palms over his hot, moist skin. From the contours of his waist up his torso to where crisp chest hairs tickled the underside of her fingers, she savored each inch of him.

A guttural groan exploded in the room, and she wasn’t sure if she’d made that sound, but one look into Zane’s eyes darkened by desire and she knew it wasn’t her.

He was on fire. His skin sizzled hot and steamy, his breathing hitched and all of that combined was enough to blanket her body with burning heat. “We can’t,” she said softly.

She had to say it. Because of Janie. Because of Steven. She and Zane were both trying to heal, but none of that resonated right now. None of it seemed powerful enough to derail the sensations whipping them into a frenzied state.

Maybe this was what both of them needed.

One night.

His mouth claimed her again as he lay down on the bed, tugging her along with him. She fell beside him. Promptly he snaked his arm under her waist and flipped her on top of him.

She had his answer. Yes, they could.

His good hand cupped her cheek, and his eyes bored into her. “Don’t question this, Jess. Not if it’s what you want right now.”

That was Zane. The man who didn’t plan for the future anymore, the man who’d said it was better sometimes not to know where you were going. And Jessica certainly didn’t have a clue what her future held or where the heck she was going from here.

But she knew what she wanted tonight.

How could she not? Her breasts were crushed against Zane’s chest, her body trembling and so ready for whatever would come next. Zane was a good, decent man who also happened to be sexy as sin but he had also been her sis— She stopped thinking. Enough. She might talk herself out of this. “It’s what I want.”

He gave her a serious smile and kissed her again, his lips soft and tender, taking his time with her, making her come apart in small doses.

In the moment, Jessica gave herself permission to let go completely. He pushed the straps down on her dress and her breasts popped free of restraint. Zane caressed her, running his hand over her sensitive skin, lightly touching one wanton crest that seemed made for his touch.

A deep moan rose from her throat. She closed her eyes and enjoyed every second of his tender ministrations. “You have a beautiful body, sweetheart,” he said, then rose up to place his mouth over one breast, his tongue flicking the nub, wetting it in a flurry of sweeps. He moved to the other side and did the same, a little more frenzied, faster, rougher. She squealed, the exquisite pain sending shock waves down past her belly.

Zane reacted with a jerk of his hips. “Get naked for me, Jess.”

She pulled her dress over her shoulders, and he helped as much as he could to lift it the rest of the way off. She gave it a gentle toss to the floor and straddled him, bare but for her panties, and looking into eyes that seemed distant for a moment. “Are you sure about this?” he rasped, his brows gathering.

He was giving her a way out, but she was in too deep now. Her body hummed from his touch and the promise of the pulsing manhood beneath her. She wanted more...she wanted it all.

She was the new Jess.

“I’m sure, Zane.”

He nodded and blew out a breath in apparent relief, but there was something else. A part of him seemed undecided. It was only a feeling she had, a vibe that worried her in some small part of her consciousness. Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think.

The new Jess wasn’t a thinker. She was a doer.

She bent to his mouth, her sensitized nipples reaching his chest first. He bucked under her. “Oh, man, babe.” She smiled at him and opened her mouth, coaxing his tongue to play with hers. His strokes made her dizzy, and her desire for him soared. She was almost ready. She reached for his zipper.

“No,” he said. He gently rolled her to her side and leaned over her. “There might be something I’m good at with my left hand.”

A smile broke out on her face, but Zane wiped the smile away the second his fingers probed inside her panties. He cupped her there, and a melodic sigh escaped her throat. He kissed her, swallowing the rest of her sounds as he stroked her with deft fingers. Her body moved, arched, reached as he became more and more merciless. “Zane,” she cried.

She climbed over the top immediately, her limbs shaking, her breathing quickened and labored. A drawn-out, piercing scream rang from her throat. She was cocooned in heat. Zane held her patiently while her tingles ebbed and she came down to earth.

“Reach over to the bed stand, sweetheart,” he said as she caught her breath. “Dig deep in the drawer.” He nuzzled her ear and said softly, “It’s been a while.”

Seconds later, with a little of her help, he was sheathed. She reeled from the passion she witnessed in his eyes. It wasn’t lust, but something more. Something she could feel good about when she remembered this night. They were connected, always had been, and right now all things powerful in the universe were pulling her toward this man.

“Ready?” he asked.

As she nodded, boldly she lifted her leg over his waist to straddle him. Both of his hands came around her back, encouraging her to lean down. She did, and he pressed a dozen molten kisses to her mouth before he set her onto him.

Instinctively she rose up, and he helped guide her down. The tip of his shaft teased her entrance, and she closed her eyes.

“So beautiful,” she heard him say softly as he filled her body.

They moved together as one, his thrusts setting the pace. Her heart beat rapid-fire; she was in the Zane zone now and offered to him everything he wanted to take.

He was all she could ever hope for in a lover. His kiss drove her crazy, and he was more adept with one good hand than the men she’d known in the past who’d had the use of both. He explored her body with tender kisses and bold touches, with harmonious rhythm and unexpected caresses. He was wild and tender, sweet and wicked. And when he pressed her for finality that he seemingly couldn’t hold back another second, her release astonished and satisfied her. “Wow,” she whimpered, her body still buzzing. She lay sated and spent on the bed.

“Yeah, babe. Wow.” Zane sighed heavily, an uncomplicated sound telling her how much pleasure she’d brought him. She wasn’t sorry. She had no regrets. But then, she hadn’t let her mind wander since she’d entered Zane’s bedroom. She didn’t want to think. Not now.

Zane wrapped his arm around her, tucking her into him, and soon the sound of his quiet breaths steadied. With all that he’d consumed tonight, there was no reason to hope that he would wake soon.

She closed her eyes, savoring the safety and serenity the night brought to her.

* * *

Zane’s eyes snapped open to the ceiling above. It was funny how the crater-like texture seemed odd to him this morning. He’d never noticed it before. Back home, solid wood beams supported the house. The rich smell of pines and oaks and cedar lent warmth and gave him a true sense of belonging. He missed home, longed for it actually, but how in hell could he complain? He lived in a rich man’s paradise, on a sandy windswept beach with dazzling pastel sunsets and beautiful people surrounding him.

He didn’t have to look over to know Jess wasn’t beside him on the bed. He’d heard her exit the room in the wee hours of the morning. He should’ve stopped her. He should’ve reached out and tugged her back to bed. If he had, she’d be here with him now, and he would nestle into her warmth again.

Sweet Jess. Sexy Jess.

Oxygen pushed out of his lungs. He was still feeling the effects of last night. The alcohol, the soft woman—the entire night played back in his mind. He was in deep now.

He hinged his body up and swiveled his feet over the bed to meet with the floor. He made a grab for his crutches that lay against the wall and luckily hung on to them. Rising, still wearing the pants he’d worn last night, he ambled from the bedroom to the living room. From there, he spotted Jess pressed against the deck railing in a pair of sexy shorts and a ruffled blouse, gazing out to sea. It was just after dawn, and the beach was empty but for a few seagulls milling about. Low curling waves splashed against the shore almost silently. It was a beautiful time of day.

Made even more beautiful by his golden-haired houseguest.

As quietly as a man on crutches could, he made his way out the double French doors and headed toward her. Her concentration was intense, and she didn’t hear him approach until he was behind her. He put his crutches near the wall and braced his arms on the railing, trapping her in his embrace.

She stood with her back to his chest. Her hair whipped in the breeze and tickled his cheeks as he nibbled on her nape. She tasted like a woman who’d had a delicious night of sex. She smelled like a woman who’d been sated and well loved. He breathed her in. “Mornin’, Jess.”

“Hmm.”

“Wish you hadn’t left my bed. Wish you were still in there with me.”

As she nodded, she leaned her head against his shoulder.

“I don’t know what we’re doing,” she said softly.

“Helping each other heal, maybe.” He nipped the soft skin under her ear. “All I know is, I haven’t felt this alive in a long time. And that’s because of you.”

“It’s only because I remind you of—”

“Home.” He wouldn’t allow her to think for a second she was a replacement for his dead wife. He wasn’t certain in his own mind that wasn’t the case—her transformation last night had knocked the vinegar out of him, she’d looked so much like Janie—but he didn’t want Jess believing it. What kind of a scoundrel would that make him? “But it’s more than that. You remind me of the good things in my life.”

“You’re romanticizing about Beckon. It’s really not all that.”

In a way, they were both in the same situation. She’d had her heart broken. Of course she wouldn’t look upon home with fond memories now. He couldn’t go home because it wouldn’t be the same. He blamed himself for Janie’s death, and the guilt wracked him ten ways to Sunday, each and every day. “Maybe you’re right, sweetheart.”

Memories being what they were, he couldn’t deny he held Beckon close to his heart. But he didn’t need to win this round with Jessica today.

“I don’t have a single regret about last night. Well, except that I had the damn boot and cast still on.”

She turned away from the ocean and captured his attention with her pretty fresh-meadow eyes. “Not one, Zane? Not one regret?”

He blinked at the intensity of her question. This was important to her. “No.”

What he had were doubts. He wasn’t ready for anything heavy, with her or anyone else. The thought of entering into a relationship gave him hives. He might never be ready. He’d removed himself from any thoughts of the future and lived in the present. He’d shut himself off for two years. It was safe. His haven of sanity.

“Are you regretting what happened last night?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear her answer.

Her chin lifted as she thought about it for an eternity of seconds. “Regret isn’t the right word. I think you’re right. We both needed each other.”

“We don’t have to attach any labels to last night,” Zane said. “It just happened.” He wanted it to happen again. But it wasn’t his decision. He was smart enough to know that.

“But where do we go from here?”

Breezes blew her hair off her shoulders, the golden strands dancing in the morning light. Her face was clean of makeup, glowing with a fresh-washed look. All of Zane’s impulses heightened.

“First,” he said, dipping his head to her mouth, “I give you a good morning kiss.” He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her soundly. She made a tiny noise in the back of her throat that made him smile inside. He could kiss her until the sun set and wouldn’t tire of it. He inched away from her face as her eyes opened, glowing with warmth. God, she was sweet. “If you’re inclined to do some cooking this morning, we have breakfast. Mrs. Lopez doesn’t work on Sunday. And then we do whatever comes natural. No pressure, Jess.”

He’d had sex with Janie’s younger sister. He should be beating himself up about that now, but oddly he wasn’t. He couldn’t figure the why of it. Why was being with Jess making him feel better about himself instead of worse? He had nothing to offer her but strong arms to hold her and a warm body to comfort her, if she needed them. He couldn’t pursue her. It wouldn’t be fair to her, but that didn’t stop him from wanting her.

A soft, relieved breath blew from her lips. “That sounds good to me, Zane.” She gave him a sweet smile and handed him his crutches. “Meet me in the kitchen in half an hour.”

His gaze landed on the curvy form of her backside as she strode inside the house. He hung his head. Oh, man. He was in deep.

Life at 211 Moonlight Drive wasn’t going to get any easier.

Seven

Two and a half months after his accidental fall off a Los Angeles stage, Zane had gotten a good report from his doctor. His foot had healed nicely and was now out of the cast. His wrist had taken longer than expected to heal, but that, too, was in great shape and cast-free. Jessica was almost as relieved as he was, hearing the news today after driving him to his appointment. Zane had never gotten used to the crutches and now, with a little physical therapy, he’d be back to normal, good as new. And her duties wouldn’t be so up close and personal with him any longer. She could concentrate on work and try to forget about making love with him two nights ago.

The new Jess would’ve let it go by now.

But traces of the old Jess were resurfacing, and she wanted to kick her to the curb. Falling in love with Zane would be a bonehead stupid move. He was still in love with Janie, and nothing much could persuade her otherwise. How could she be sure that the night they’d had sex wasn’t more about her resemblance to her sister than any intense affection Zane had for her?

“I feel like celebrating,” Zane said as she drove toward the gates of his home.

“I bet you do. But you can’t go dancing just yet. You have to get through physical therapy.”

From out of the corner of her eye, she spied Zane flexing his hand. “I’m fine. Just dandy. Even wearing my own boots for a change.”

She took her eyes off the road for a split second to gaze at his expensive boots. Snakeskin. Gorgeous. Studded black leather. They made her mouth water. “You do know you live on the beach. Sandals are expected. Even admired.”

A belly laugh rolled out of his mouth. “I could say the same about you. Lately, you’ve been wearing those highfalutin heels.”

“Me?” Yes, it was true. The new Jess wore pricey heels when she wasn’t in her morning walk tennis shoes.

“Yeah, you. Admit it. You’re happier in a pair of soft leather boots with flat heels than those skyscrapers you’ve taken to wearing. Not that I mind. You look hot in those heels.”

The compliment lit her up inside, but she couldn’t let him see how it affected her. She lowered her sunglasses and gave him a deadpan look.

He grinned.

The man was in a great mood today, happier than she’d seen him in days. It was certainly better than putting up with his sourpuss, like on Sunday afternoon when he’d balked at her going to Dylan’s house for the screening of Time of Her Life. She’d thought he’d be okay with it. After all, he’d said to do what came natural, and she had promised Dylan she’d be there. When she’d walked in past nine, missing dinner with him, he’d been sullen and distant, none too pleased with her.

Yes, they’d had sex the night before, and it had been amazing. Surely Zane had to know that Dylan McKay, handsome as he was, didn’t strike her fancy. She’d gone because she’d promised and because she needed time away from Zane to clear her head, yet that entire afternoon and evening, she’d wondered if she’d made a mistake by going to Dylan’s.

“You know what I feel like doing?” Zane asked, breaking into her thoughts.

“I’m afraid to ask.”

“I feel like taking a dip.”

“In your Jacuzzi? That’s a good idea. I bet the warm water—”

“In the ocean, Jess. Tonight, after dinner.”

She pulled through the gates and drove along the winding road to his house. “I don’t know if that’s wise, Zane. You shouldn’t push it. You only just—”

“I’m going, Jess.” He set his face stubbornly, and she couldn’t think of anything to say to change his mind. “I’ve been confined long enough.”

Pulling into the garage, she cut the engine. “I get that, but I won’t be—”

Oh, shoot. He wasn’t going to like this.

“Won’t be what?”

“Home after dinner.”

“Another shopping trip?”

A lie could fall from her lips very easily. But she wasn’t going to lie to Zane. “No. I’m invited over to your neighbor’s house.”

Zane’s lips thinned. “Dylan again?”

“Adam Chase.”

Zane’s eyes sharpened on her. “You’re going over to Adam’s tonight?”

“I kind of didn’t give him a choice the other night. He was telling me about his new artwork, and I hinted at wanting to see it. I guess he was just being nice by inviting me over.” She’d been a little stunned and humbled when he’d asked her since, according to Zane, invitations from Adam were rare.

Zane closed his eyes briefly. “That’s Adam. Mr. Nice Guy.”

“You don’t think he is?”

Zane snorted. “I think he’s a genius. But I don’t know much about his personal life.”

“I don’t want to know about his personal life, either. This isn’t anything, Zane.” If only she could melt the disapproval off his face with an explanation. “It’s just me, being curious. The teacher in me loves learning.”

They’d been carefully dancing around what had happened between them. It seemed neither wanted to bring the subject up. So how could she admit that she’d rather be home with him? That after making love with him, it was better that they spend time apart. Too much alone time with him could prove disastrous. One disaster per decade was her limit. One disaster in her entire life would be preferable.

She cared deeply for Zane, thought he was gorgeous and more appealing than any man she’d ever met, but she couldn’t be dumb again. And that meant not reading too much into having sex with him, wonderful as it was. She rationalized it was all about healing. Isn’t that how Zane passed it off?

“I’m sure Adam wouldn’t mind if you joined me.”

He reached for the door handle. “I’ve seen his house, Jess. You go on. Have a nice time,” he said through tight lips.

She didn’t buy his comment for a second, but she clamped her mouth shut, and as he opened the car door, she rushed around the front end to meet him. Putting his good foot down, he braced his hands on the sides of the car and brought himself up and out.

“Lean on me,” she said. “I’m here if you need me.”

“I’ll make it just fine.”

She moved out of his way, and he walked slowly but on his own power, his boots scraping the garage floor as he made his way into the house.

Her shoulders fell, and black emptiness seemed to swallow her up. She wanted Zane to need her.

Or maybe, she just plain wanted Zane. Either way wasn’t an option. She couldn’t very well count the days until Mariah returned. Nobody knew when that would be.

But for the first time, she hoped it would be soon.

* * *

Zane leaned his elbows over his deck banister, grateful to be on his own two feet now. His gaze focused on Jess as she made her way down the deck steps to the beach. “Bye, Zane. I won’t be long.”

Her sultry voice hammered inside his brain. It was unique, and he was beginning to hear the slight nuances that differed from her sister’s. There was more sugary rasp and a lightness in her tone that made him think of only good things.

She held the straps of her heeled sandals up by two fingers and waved at him once her bare feet hit the sand. In her other hand, she held a flashlight to guide her way over to Adam’s house. It wasn’t too far, just about one hundred yards from back door to back door, but the half moon’s light wasn’t enough illumination on the darkened beach, so the flashlight was a good idea.

Her blond hair touched the top of a nipped-at-the-waist snowy white dress that flared out to just above her knees. She looked ethereal in a delicate way that would turn any man’s head.

“Bye” he heard himself growl, and lifted his hand up, a semiwave back, watching her trudge through the sand and out of his line of vision.

She was determined to go, yet he’d noted a flicker in her eyes earlier, a moment of doubt as if she waited for him to tell her to stay. He wanted her, and his newly healed body was in a state of arousal around her most of the time now, but he held back. He let her go off to another man’s house tonight instead of giving in to his lust.

Was he an idiot or being smart, for her sake?

His cell phone rang, and he plucked it from his pocket. It was probably Mariah. She’d been a saint, checking in and worrying about him when she was the one who needed the support. He’d had Jess send her flowers this morning to cheer her up.

He answered the ring. “Hello?”

“Hello, Zane. This is Mae.”

His brows rose. It wasn’t Mariah after all, but Jessica’s mother. “Hi, Mae. This is a nice surprise.”

“I hope so. Zane, how are you feeling these days?”

“Better. I’m out of my cast and healing up real good. And how are you, Mae?”

“I could be better. You know I’m an eternal worrier. And I’m worried about my Jess. I haven’t heard from her in three days.”

“Is that unusual?”

“Yes, very. She usually checks in with me every day or every other day. We’ve been playing phone tag over the weekend, and I can’t seem to reach her. She didn’t answer my call today. I wondered if something was wrong with her phone. Thought it’d be best to check in with you.”

“Well...I can assure you, she’s doing fine.”

“Really?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s a relief. I thought after I gave her the news, she’d be crushed. My dear girl has been through a lot this past month. She can’t be happy about Steven.”

Steven? Just hearing the guy’s name made his hand ball into a fist. “What news is that, Mae?”

“I couldn’t hide it from my sweet girl. She didn’t need to hear it from anyone else but her mama.”

“Yes, I think you were right.” Zane hadn’t a clue what she was getting at, but he knew Mae. She’d eventually get around to telling him what was going on.

“Can you imagine her bridesmaid, Judy, running off with Steven to get married? Why, she’d been like a member of our family when the girls were younger. And Steven? I thought I knew that boy. I’d like to wallop both of them for the hurt they put my daughter through.”

His face tightened and he squeezed his eyes shut, wishing like hell he could give that jerk a piece of his mind. And to add to the insult, he’d run away with one of Jess’s good friends. A woman who’d vowed to stand up for her at her wedding.

Something clicked in his head. “Wait a minute, Mae. When did you tell Jess about this?”

“Oh, let me see. It must have been on Thursday. Yes, that’s right. I remember, because I was getting my hair done at the salon and, well, it was the talk of the entire beauty shop. I felt so bad when I heard, I walked out after my cut with a wet head, didn’t bother having my hair styled. All I kept thinking about was my Jess and how she would take the news. But you know, when I told her, I was surprised at her reaction. She seemed calm. I think she was in shock. Have you noticed anything different about her, lately?”

Had he? Hell, yeah. Now he understood her transformation. She’d dyed her hair blond, gotten rid of her eyeglasses, starting wearing provocative clothes. Was it rebellion? Or worse yet, had Jess decided to throw caution to the wind and... No, he wouldn’t let his mind go there. She wasn’t promiscuous. She was a woman who’d been betrayed by people she trusted. He could only imagine what hearing that news did to her.

And what had he done? She’d come into the room the night of party and he’d shot her down, doing the unthinkable by telling her she looked like Janie in a voice that held nothing but disapproval. He’d been selfish, thinking only about how much it hurt to look at her that way. If he was damn honest with himself, seeing that daring side of Jess had excited him. He hadn’t known how to handle his initial reaction to her. She almost didn’t go to the party because he’d given her a hard time about the way she looked, gorgeous as she was.

And he’d been jealous because he couldn’t have her, and yet he didn’t want any other man going after her, either. Wow. What a revelation.

“Zane, I asked if Jessica has been acting differently lately?”

Uh, yeah. But in this case, he saw no reason not to bend the truth a little. “She’s been keeping busy, Mae. She tells me she likes the work. And she’s made a few friends here, too. She seems to fit in real nice. In fact, she’s visiting my neighbor now. When she comes in, I’ll be sure to tell her you called.”

“I’m happy about that, Zane. I knew coming to stay with you would be good for her.”

Zane scrunched his face up. He’d taken Mae’s daughter to bed, and if he had his way, he would do so again. His mind muddied up, and he didn’t understand any of it other than that Jess was under his roof and getting under his skin. He felt for her and the hurt she’d gone through. Nothing about liking her seemed wrong, even though he could count the bullet points in his mind why he shouldn’t.

“I can’t thank you enough. You know how much I love my girls.”

Her comment dug deep into his heart. Mae would never stop loving Janie. She always spoke of her as if she were still with them. Zane loved that about her. “Yep, I know, Mae.”

“So tell me what you’ve been doing. That’s if you have the time.”

“I have the time. Let’s see, the restaurant is coming along as scheduled and...”

Thirty minutes later, after he’d hung up with Mae, he sat down with his guitar and strummed lightly to reacquaint himself to the feel of the instrument in his hands and the resiliency of the strings. He had words in his head struggling to get out, lyrics that were just beginning to flow, and he jotted them down as he struck chord after chord. The pick in his hand felt awkward at first, but he pressed on.

Thoughts of Jess distracted him. He couldn’t stop thinking about her and what Mae had revealed. He wanted to protect her. Yet he desired her. Her heartache scored his heart. He felt sorry for her, but not enough to keep his distance. He was conflicted, as Dylan would say. He needed some release.

Only a dunk in the ocean would help clear his mind and cool his body.

And minutes later, dressed in his swim trunks, he made his way to the shoreline and dived straight in, propelling his arms and legs past the shallow waters, pushing his body to the limit.

* * *

After enjoying a pleasant visit with Adam and declining his offer to walk her home, she trudged across the beach alone. Cool sand squished between her toes as she made her way to the shoreline, where the moist grains under her feet became smoother, making it much easier to move. She knew this beach; she’d walked it in the mornings many times.

As she entered Zane’s home, silence surrounded her. It was too quiet for this time of the evening. Zane never turned in before ten. “Zane? Are you here?”

Nothing.

“Zane?” She stepped into the office, then the kitchen, and peeked into his bedroom.

There was no sign of him.

She sighed wearily and shook her head. He must have gone for a swim in the ocean. Half a dozen worries entered her head about his night swim. Geesh, he’d just gotten his cast off. What was the doggone rush?

Hurrying to her room, she flung off her clothes and put on her bathing suit. In her haste to rid herself of the old Jess, she’d tossed out her one-piece swimsuits she’d brought from Texas, which left her with the daring bikini she’d bought the other day. She slipped into it and then wiggled a T-shirt over her head. Without wasting a second, she strode down the stairs, grabbed her flashlight and ventured out the sliding door.

If she were lucky, she’d find Zane walking toward the house, whistling a happy tune.

Who was she kidding? Luck wasn’t with her lately. Zane’s towel was on the beach, which meant he was out there somewhere. The crashing waves that usually lulled her to sleep made her wary now. Her flashlight pointed out to sea illuminated only a narrow strip of water at a time. She squinted, trying to make out shapes, searching corridors of ocean, back and forth. “Zane! Zane!”

She couldn’t find him. Nibbling her lip, she paced the beach, aiming her flashlight onto the water over and over. She’d never swum in the ocean before coming to California, but she’d quickly learned how the currents could take you away, making you drift in one direction or another. She’d start out in front of Zane’s house and wind up hundreds of feet away when it was time to come in. Those currents had to be stronger at night, more powerful and...

She spotted something. A head bobbing in the water? She pointed the flashlight and struggled to focus. Yep, someone was out there. But then the form dropped down as if being swallowed up by the sea. She ran into the surf, targeting that bit of water with the flashlight. “Zane!” she shouted, but her voice was muted by the crash of the waves.

He couldn’t hear her. He was out past the shallows. She waited several long seconds for him to reappear. She prayed that he would. She couldn’t see much, only what the moonlight and stars and her flashlight allowed, but she’d always had a good sense of direction. She knew the exact spot where she’d seen him go down.

“Oh, God. Zane!”

With no time to waste, she dived in, her arms pumping, her feet kicking, fighting against the tide. She swam as fast as she ever had in her life, her eyes trying to focus on the spot she’d seen him. She was almost there, a little farther, just another few strokes.

A thunderous sound boomed in her ears. She looked up. Oh, no. A monstrous wave was coming toward her like a coiling snake. It was too late to get out of its path. The pounding surf reached her in midstroke. The force slammed her back. She flew in the air and belly-flopped facedown against a sheet of ocean as hard as a slab of granite.

Waves buried her, and she sputtered for breath.

Seconds later, she felt herself being lifted, her head popping above the water. She gasped.

“Jess.”

Zane. He’d come for her. How did he get here? As she struggled to catch her breath, he half dragged, half swam her to the shallows by floating on his back and keeping her head above water. Once he got his footing, he stopped and stood upright in the water, then scooped her into his arms, carrying her to the beach.

He laid her down carefully away from high tide. The sand granules scratched at her back, but she was never happier to be on dry land. And Zane was safe. That mattered just as much.

He fell to his knees beside her. Huffing breaths, he shook his head. “You gave me a scare.”

He bent to her, pushing aside the locks of hair hiding her face, and his magnificent eyes were soft and concerned. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “I’m okay. Got the wind knocked out of me.”

“You almost drowned, sweetheart. What on earth were you doing?”

She filled her lungs with oxygen, this time without gulping water along with it. “Saving you,” she said quietly. “I thought I saw you out there, going under.”

Zane’s eyes were warm on her face, the heat enough to keep the cool drops on her body from freezing. His hands were working wonders, too, caressing her cheeks and stroking her chin, heating her up in ways no other man ever had. He rasped softly, “You mean you thought I was drowning, and you risked your life to save me?”

She nodded.

“That wasn’t me, sweetheart.”

“It wasn’t? I saw someone go under. I thought for sure you were out there.”

“I was. I lasted only ten minutes before I came in. What you saw was probably a school of sea lions. They frequent the shallower waters here at night. I’ve seen one of them pop a head up and then go under and, yeah...I guess in the dark, it might look like a swimmer out there.”

“Then how...how did you find me?”

“After my swim, I took a long walk. Thankfully, I returned just in time to hear you calling my name. Took me only a second to figure out where you were.”

He began to rub her arms and legs. She was cold, but that didn’t stop her from reacting to his touch. As warmth spread through her body, her gentle cooing seemed to draw Zane’s attention to her lips. “That feels good,” she said.

“Tell me about it.” The corner of his mouth crooked up.

His palms heated her through and through, her skin highly sensitized to his touch. She was overwhelmed with relief that he hadn’t drowned and grateful that he’d saved her, but there was more...so much more that she was feeling right now. “Thank you, Zane.”

She touched his shoulder and felt his cool skin under her fingertips. His eyes gleamed with a fiery invitation to do more. Bravely, she wound her arms around his neck. It didn’t take an ounce of effort to pull him close. His mouth hovered near hers.

It was crazy. They were on the beach under the moonlight and dripping wet after the rescue, and nothing seemed amiss in her world. She wouldn’t trade places with another living soul right now.

“I’d give you what-for,” he said, “but that will have to wait.”

“It will?”

“Yep. Cause I think you’re about to kiss me.”

“Smart man.”

She ran her fingers through his thick wet hair and lowered his head down to her lips. Oh...he tasted warm and inviting and salty. His kiss made her tremble in a good way, and she opened her mouth for him.

He plunged inside and swept her up in one burning kiss after another. What was left of her body when he finished kissing her was a pulsing bundle of need. “Zane,” she whispered over his lips.

“I need to get you inside the house...”

He didn’t have to finish. She knew. They’d get arrested if they acted on their impulses right here on the beach.

“Can you walk?” he asked.

“Yes, with your help.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Seems one of us is always leaning on the other.”

She smiled. How true.

He bounded up and then entwined their hands. Gently he helped her to her feet. The world didn’t go dizzy on her—well, except for the hot looks Zane was giving her. “I actually feel pretty good.”

“Glad to hear it.” He kissed her earlobe. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Side by side, bracing each other, they walked through the sand and up the steps that led into the house.

* * *

As soon as they entered the house, Zane did an about-face and walked her backward until she was pressed against the living room wall. He trapped her there, his body pulsing near hers, his gaze generating enough heat to burn the building down.

“Are you about to give me what-for?”

A low rumble of laughter rose from his throat. Her senses heightened. He was one sexy man. “You know it, Jess.” He glanced down at her dripping wet T-shirt plastered to her body and sighed as if he was in pain. “Do you know how incredibly perfect you are?”

His hands wrapped around her waist, and thrilling warmth penetrated through her shirt to heat her skin. “I’m not.”

His mouth grazed her throat. “You are. You can’t let what those two did to you change who you are. That guy was about the stupidest man on earth.”

She stilled. “What do you mean, ‘those two’?”

Zane’s lips were doing amazing things to her throat. And his body pressing against hers made it hard to think. Her breasts were ready for his touch. Her nipples pebbled hard and beckoned him through the flimsy T-shirt and bikini.

She had to ignore her body. She needed to know what he meant. “Zane?”

He stopped kissing her and inched away enough to gaze into her eyes. “Oh, uh. Your mama called while you were out. She was worried about you, and well...she told me about Steven running off with a friend of yours.”

She’d told him about Judy?

All the wind left her lungs, and a different kind of burn seared through her stomach. She wished Mama hadn’t revealed to Zane her latest humiliation. She felt so exposed, so vulnerable. Did she have an ounce of pride left?

“You have every right to feel hurt, Jess. But don’t let what he did change the person that you are.”

“You think that’s what I’m doing?”

“Isn’t it? You changed your hair, wear your contacts all the time. You dress differently now. Don’t get me wrong. You look beautiful, sweetheart. But you were beautiful before.”

She shrugged. She found it hard to believe. It was a platitude, a cliché, a way to make her feel better about herself.

“I need the change.” Tears misted in her eyes. She really did. She needed to look at herself in the mirror and see a strong, independent woman who had style and confidence. She needed to see that transformation, more than anything else.

“I get that.” Zane took her into his arms and hugged her, as a friend now. She felt safe again, protected. And just being with him made her problems seem trivial. “But promise me one thing?”

“What?”

“Don’t try to find what you need with another man. Makes me crazy.”

Makes me crazy. Oh, wow. There was no mistaking what he meant. Not from the genuine pain she found in his eyes, or the intensity in his voice. “You mean like Dylan or Adam? I told you, they’re not—”

He shushed her with a kiss, right smack on the lips. Her body instantly reacted, and goose bumps rose on her arms.

“You make me crazy, too,” he rasped and began rolling the hem of her T-shirt up. With his coaxing, she raised her arms as he brought the wet garment over her head and her breasts jiggled back into place. Zane’s hot gaze touched her there and lingered, then traveled over the rest her body clad in a skimpy New Jess bikini. He made a loud noise from sucking oxygen into his lungs. “From now on, sweet Jess, I want to be the man you go to when you need something.”

“You mean, like my rebound guy?”

“Call it whatever you want, honey.”

Jess didn’t have to think twice. Zane just abolished all deprecating thoughts she’d had about herself and totally wiped out any pain she’d felt about Steven. Even her pride was restored somewhat. The Steven ship had sailed, and she wasn’t going to waste another second thinking of him. Not when she had Zane offering her the moon.

He was a real man.

If she had any doubts before about her feelings for him, they were banished the second she’d thought he was drowning. She’d rushed in to save him, praying that God wouldn’t take him from her. And she wasn’t going to feel bad about it or apologize to anyone. Forbidden or not, she wanted him.

“I promise.”

He hooked his fingers with hers. “Your room or mine?”

“Neither,” she said. Her confidence soaring and her heart melting, she let go of every inhibition she’d ever had. “I think we need a hot, steamy shower to warm up, don’t you?”

“As long as I get to peel this bikini off you, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Eight

The peeling was blissful torture. Jessica lay her head against cool slate, her arms behind her. Steam rose up as the customized shower streams poured down, warming her bones. It was like being tucked inside a large waterfall, cascading water all around her. Zane came to her naked, his sculpted, bronzed beach body equal to that of an ancient god. There was enough room for twelve people in the master shower, but she knew Zane would make good use of the space for the two of them.

“You’re beautiful, Jess.”

His mouth covered hers as both of his hands came under her bikini top. Weighing her full breasts, he groaned deep in his throat, and his appreciation of her body flowed to her ears. She roped her arms around his neck and continued to kiss him even as he unhooked the back of the bathing suit, releasing her breasts. Warm spray moistened them and he worked magic on her, gliding his hands over her bare, wet skin and arousing her in tortuous increments. His thumb caressed her already pebbled nipples until she muted a cry.

He was amazingly gentle, but brutal in his determination to make it good for her. As he removed the bottom half of her bikini, his hands shaking with need, she’d never felt more desirable and powerful.

Drizzling kisses along her throat, his hands came to the small of her back, and she bowed her body for him. He took one jutted breast in his mouth and suckled her, his tongue swirling and flicking. She screamed then, but the pleasured sounds were drowned out by the thunderous showerheads. He gave the other breast equal treatment, and it was almost too much.

“Are you warm yet?” he asked, nuzzling her throat.

“Just getting there.”

“Let me help you with that.”

He picked up a bar of soap and lathered her from head to toe, bathing her in a soft and subtle flowery scent that reminded her of a spring afternoon. He didn’t miss one inch of her, paying special attention to the crux of her womanhood, stroking, washing, cupping her, making her moan. “Oh, oh, oh.”

Jess thought every woman should experience a shower this way, just once.

She smiled, gritted her teeth and savored the pleasure he brought her.

His hands moved to her backside and slid over the rounded halves of her derriere, molding her form, spreading his fingers wide as if savoring the feel of her. His manhood pressed her belly, rock-hard and pulsing. She shuddered, unable to hold back another second. Her body released gently, in beautifully timid waves that nudged her forever toward him. His mouth covered hers, and she enjoyed the sweetly erotic taste of his passion.

Wow.

She’d never had an orgasm like that before.

She clung to him and let the full force of her feelings consume her.

“Did you like that, sweetheart?”

“So much.”

She sensed his smile, and it made her heart nearly burst.

She moved down on him, letting her mouth and breasts caress the middle of his chest, his belly, and then she touched his full-fledged erection.

“Oh, man,” he uttered. “Jess.”

He fisted a handful of her hair and helped move her along the length of him. Water pounded her back, the showerhead pulsing now. It was deliciously sexy, and when she was through, she rose to meet him. The hungry look on his face, teeth gritted, eyes gleaming like a wolf about to devour his prey, would have been almost frightening if it wasn’t Zane.

He lifted her, and on instinct she wrapped her legs around his waist. He held her tight and murmured, “Hang on.”

She clung to him, and his manhood nudged into her, filling her with gentle force. He was patient and oh, so ready. She moved on him, letting him know she was okay with whatever he wanted to do. The beat, beat, beat of the raining drops set the pace of his thrusts. He arched and drove deeper.

“Oh.” She sighed. “So good.”

He kissed her throat, her breasts, and continued to thrust into her, hard, harder.

It was pure heaven. She’d never made love like this before. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her body soared. Spasms of tight, sweet pain released, and she cried out softly “Oh, Zane.”

His eyes were on her, burning hot. He waited for her to come down off the clouds, and then he began to thrust into her again. He set a fast rhythm, and she gave back equally. She wanted to make it good for him, too.

Guttural groans rose up his throat, and she knew he was close. He impaled her one last, amazing time, his reach touching the very core of her womanhood. And waves of his orgasm struck her, one after the other, until he was spent, sated.

He took her with him as he sat down on the stone shower bench, raining kisses all over her face, cheeks, chin, throat. He pushed her hair away from her face. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

How could she not be? She was overjoyed. “It was beautiful, Zane.”

“It was,” he said, leaning way back.

She stroked his face, running her hand over his stubbly cheek. He grabbed her wrist and planted a kiss on her palm.

The shower turned off. Perfect timing. It was a perfect night. Well, except for those few minutes she thought Zane was drowning. He’d taxed his body tonight. “You must be tired,” she said.

His eyes darkened, and he hiked a brow. “I’m ready to be in bed with you.”

“Sounds good.”

She didn’t want the night to end. She no longer worried about what tomorrow would bring. She was living in the moment, and these moments had been pretty darn spectacular.

Zane lifted her off him and grabbed two giant towels. He took his time drying her off, sneaking kisses on parts of her body, arousing her. She did the same to him, teasing him with her mouth.

They entered his bedroom clean, dry and exhausted.

She took a few steps toward his door, and his arm snaked around her. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To my room. I need to get my nightie.”

“No, you don’t. Come to bed. I promise to keep you warm.”

“Part of your duties as my rebound guy?”

“You know it, honey. Now get in.”

* * *

Spooning with Zane in his big, comfortable bed, Jessica’s eyes eased open. It was slightly after dawn, and the usual early morning cloud cover allowed a smidgen of struggling sunshine into the room. Zane stroked her hip, lightly, possessively, his touch becoming familiar to her, and she purred like a kitten given a big bowl of cream.

“I’m giving you the day off,” he murmured, his breath whispering over her hair.

“Mmm.” A lovely thought. “I have work to do today.”

“It’ll keep, Jess. I want to spend the day with you.”

“You already do.”

He nipped her earlobe, then planted tiny kisses along her nape. His hand traveled deliciously to her waist, just under her belly. “Not the way I want to.”

They’d made love twice last night. It was incredible and frightening at the same time. Every so often, thoughts of her future would break through her steely resolve to live in the moment. She’d shudder, and sudden panic would set in. What was she doing? Where was all this leading? They hadn’t used protection in the shower last night, but Jess was on birth control, sort of. She’d skipped a few days during the height of her wedding fiasco, but she’d resumed when she’d arrived here to keep her hormones from getting out of whack.

She turned to Zane, roping her arms around his neck. “What did you have in mind?”

He kissed her quickly and then tugged her closer. “A day of play. We can get out of here. Have fun.”

A lock of his thick hair fell to his forehead. In many ways, he looked like a little boy, eager to play hooky. He lived in this dream house on the beach and spoke of getting away, as if he’d been in living in the slums all this time. The irony made her smile, and she toyed with that wayward lock of hair, curling it around her finger, mesmerized by the man she shared a bed with.

“You’re the boss,” she whispered.

“I’m not your boss,” he said softly. “Not when it comes to this.”

He began kissing her shoulder, her throat, her chin. And then he stopped suddenly and inched away. He shot her a solid, earnest look. “Would you like to spend the day with me?”

Oh, wow. Like a date? “Yes.” She yanked the lock of hair. “Of course, silly.”

He gave her backside a gentle squeeze. “Then we’d better get up and get showered. You first. If we share another shower, we’ll never make it out of here this morning.” He waggled his brows. “On second thought, maybe...”

She laughed and jumped out of bed. “I’m going in first.”

Less than an hour later, Zane was sitting behind the wheel of his SUV and pulling out of the gates of his home. “Feels good to be driving again. I hated feeling helpless, having to rely on someone to take me places.”

A few days of stubble on his face had led to a short, sexy beard. The new look turned her on. Everything about him seemed to do that. All she had to do was think about making love with him last night and tingles fluttered inside her belly.

He wore a baseball cap instead of his Stetson. The beard and sunglasses also helped disguise him. He’d healed so well, she would’ve never guessed he’d broken his foot, except for his slight limp as he tried not to put too much pressure on it. She already knew she’d be arguing with him about going to his rehab appointments.

He’d told her to wear her boots, dress in jeans and not question where they were going. He wanted to surprise her. She sat in her comfortable clothes, watching the stunning landscape go by as they left the blue waters behind and drove up a mountain road. The scenery lent itself to light conversation and soft music. Zane sang along with the tune on the radio, his voice deep and rich, her own personal concert. She couldn’t help but grin.

Thirty minutes later, they were atop the mountain at a sprawling ranch-style home overlooking the city to the south and the valley to the north. The air was clean up here, the smog of the day blown away by ocean breezes. “Where are we?” she asked.

“My friend Chuck Bowen owns this place with his mother. It’s called Ruby Ranch.”

She glanced around and spotted white-fenced corrals, vineyards off in the distance and acres and acres of hilly, tree-dotted land. The sound of horses whinnying and snorting reached her ears.

“C’mon.”

Zane exited the car and walked around to help her out. He took her hand. That little boy excitement once again lit his expression. “We’re going riding.”

“Riding?” She hadn’t been on a horse since she was a teenager. She’d go riding every weekend with her good friend Jolie Burns when she wasn’t working at Holcomb House. Jolie lived on a cattle ranch ten miles outside of Beckon. Jessica had the use of a pretty palomino named Sparkle, and she’d learned how to wash down and groom a horse back then, too. It was expected. If you exercised a horse, got him lathered up, then it was your responsibility to see to his needs after the ride. Jessica had fallen in love with Sparkle. She never minded the hard work that came with him.

She rubbed her hands together. This could be fun. “Oh, boy!”

Zane chuckled and kissed the tip of nose. “That’s what I thought.”

A fiftysomething woman with hair the color of deep, rich red wine walked out of the house. She was flawless in her appearance, neat and tidy, and her pretty face must have stopped men in their tracks when she was younger. Even now, she was stunning and dressed in Western clothes that looked as if they’d just come off a fashion runway.

“Hi, Ruby,” Zane said.

“Zane. It’s good to see you again.”

Zane took Jessica’s hand as he moved toward the house. Ruby tried not to react, but her eyes dipped to their interlocked hands for a second before she gave them both a smile. “Ruby, I’d like you to meet Jessica Holcomb. Jess, this is Ruby Bowen. She and Chuck own this amazing land.”

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