that his upbringing argued against it, creating a barrier around his heart that he allowed no woman to penetrate, least of all her, but it didn’t lessen the hurt. Had Lucy managed to break down the barrier? Tara doubted it.
She had always suspected that if Zeke let her into that secret place deep inside him that he guarded so fiercely, he would be a lover without equal. He very nearly was already. But his reserve remained as a silent warning to come close but no closer.
“Why did you come back to Australia?” she asked, hearing herself sound hollow with the strain of the evening.
“You sound regretful.”
Probably because she was. “We hardly parted on good terms.”
“Your terms,” he said with sudden coldness. He looked around the empty room and beyond it to the corridor where a janitor was turning off lights. “You’re right, we do need to talk, but not here. I could use some coffee.”
“And I could use some sleep,” she shot in quickly before he could suggest going to a café. “We can talk on the way to my car, then I have to go.”
“Kind of you to offer me a lift,” he said, although they both knew she hadn’t. “I sold my car when I left the country and haven’t replaced it yet. I live at Neutral Bay so it’s on your way if you still live in the same place.”
How had she ended up driving him home? she wondered as he shadowed her to the lift and down to the basement car park. Her compact car looked lonely in the cavernous space and she was unreasonably glad Zeke was with her, although she refused to recognize any reason other than security. “I hate these places at night,” she admitted, not sure why.
“When I’m not around, you should have a security guard escort you in future,” he instructed.
It was good advice, but she had trouble thinking past the first part of his statement. “What do you mean, when you’re not around? You haven’t been around for a year and a half and I’ve coped perfectly well. Isn’t it a bit late to tell me what I should and shouldn’t do?”
“I never could tell you what to do,” he said as he folded himself into the passenger seat. Normally she loved her car with its reminders of a similar model she had purchased in her late teens. Now she wished for something more spacious to put greater distance between herself and the man beside her.
When she reached for the hand brake, she couldn’t help brushing against him and a riot of sensual thoughts raced through her head, none of them the least bit welcome. Or so she told herself. Convincing the parts of her that suddenly ached for his intimate touch was another matter.
“It didn’t stop you trying,” she snapped, throwing the car into gear with less care than usual and steering on autopilot.
“I never stop trying,” he said so softly that she wondered if she had heard correctly.
Concentrating on easing out into the traffic, she kept her startled glance to herself. “Two confessions in one night? Working in America can’t have changed you that much?”
“I’ve had a lot of time to think about what’s important in my life. I want us to try again, Tara.”
It was just as well she had both hands on the wheel, giving her something to hold on to, she thought. The traffic streaming along Military Road made it impossible to do what she really wanted, and that was to pull over and demand what in blazes he thought he was doing. She couldn’t simply pick up where they left off.
He sensed her resistance. “Leaving was a mistake. When you said you couldn’t go with me, I should have turned the offer down and stayed in Australia.” As soon as the words were out, he knew they were the reason he was here. The real reason.
Her heart ached. Nineteen months ago, hearing him say that would have made all the difference in the world. It wouldn’t have saved their baby. Nothing could have done that. But it would have meant everything to have his support through the nightmare of losing their child and facing life afterward. At the same time, she had recoiled from using her pregnancy to blackmail him into staying when he hadn’t wanted to for her sake alone.
Pain fueled her anger. “So you made a unilateral decision to return and claim what’s rightfully yours. Did it occur to you that I might not want to be claimed?”
He chuckled ruefully. “I’ve never been stopped by a challenge before.”
“I’m not a challenge, Zeke. I’m part of your past, as I’m sure you told the magazine reporter.”
“I didn’t tell them anything except that it was your show and I was there to observe.”
She glanced away from the traffic long enough for him to register her surprise. “And are you?”
“I’m not the enemy, Tara. You may think I am because of my exposé on charities that help themselves more than other people, but so far your foundation doesn’t seem to be one of them.”
It was more than she had expected from him and she felt heat blaze a trail through her. “Thank you.”
In fairness he had to say, “Don’t thank me yet.” He paused, then added, “Save it until I have enough material to write the column.”
She felt her pulse jump. The thought of him investigating her was almost more than she could handle, but she refused to let him see it. “Then you’d better get yourself a car,” she said through gritted teeth. “I don’t make a habit of driving audience members home.” Especially not this one.
“Turn left here. You can pull into the driveway at the end of the road,” he said.
She did so, not sure whether she was glad or sorry that they had arrived at his apartment building. The street was a steep one, leading down to the harbor foreshore, with the city ferry terminal only a short stroll away. In front of them was a swathe of parkland, then the water sparkling like black velvet strewn with diamonds. Zeke explained that his apartment occupied the entire ground floor of the old Federation terrace house that had been converted into a duplex. The view must be sensational, she thought.
“Nice place,” she commented tensely.
“It came with my new job,” he said. “Would you like to take a look at the view?”
“I can see it perfectly well from here.”
“Scared, Tara?”
His softly voiced challenge was all it took. She wasn’t scared of him, nor of her ability to deal with the situation. In comparison with what she’d been through since he’d left, Zeke Blaxland was a piece of cake. “Very well, but I won’t stay long. I’m starting on a book, and the only time I get to work on it is early in the morning.”
“About the foundation?” he guessed. She nodded. “You always said you wanted to write, but I thought it was going to be a torrid romance.”
She was painfully aware that the vision had been fueled by their affair. This time she would have to look somewhere else for inspiration. “I changed my mind,” she said flatly.
“Pity. But I’m glad you’re following your dream.”
She could say the same for him. According
