style="font-size:15px;"> He seemed to loom closer, look hotter, as his eyes glittered, penetrating hers. “Well, now you have that out the way, we should go. Unless…”
Her antennae quivered. “Unless what?”
“We get this out of the way now.”
“Get what out the way?”
“I thought you might want to kick my shin, slap my face. Pull my nose.”
The tension locking her shoulders eased. She’d thought for a moment…Oh, but that was ridiculous.
“I’ll try to restrain myself,” she said.
He looked at her sideways as if he might be able to glimpse a well-hidden piece of her soul. “Ms. Matthews, you didn’t think I was going to do something wholly in character, like take you in my arms and kiss you? Maybe even ravage you?”
Her cheeks caught light. The man was outrageous! “Of course not.”
“I’m such a beast. How can you be sure?”
“I’m hardly your type,” she pointed out. “Even if I were, after these last few weeks of less than glowing publicity, you couldn’t possibly want to draw attention to yet another incident.” She slid a confident glance around the busy area. “We’re out in the open. Everyone has cell phones and every cell phone has a camera.”
Mr. Harrison’s eyes lost their spark. His gaze turned dark, almost predatory.
“You think I care about gossip?”
“No. I don’t.” She cocked her head. “But maybe you should.”
That devilish smile twitched and spread again.
“You’re right. Maybe I should.” He stepped unforgivably close while his gaze held her unforgettably still. “And maybe I should give the world something to really talk about.”
Two
Zack slanted his head closer to Trinity Matthews’s stunned violet-colored eyes and almost forgot that he’d been teasing. Making her pay.
She didn’t know him from a lump of wood. What a laugh that she should make assumptions based on the tripe gossipmongers served up—and how typical. After all, she was one of them—a reporter for some rag-or-other he’d never heard of before today. Most publications shared a common code, turning a castaway line or suggestive photo into a sensation that had nothing to do with the truth and everything to do with building numbers and keeping their parasitic jobs.
Still, he was a good sport. He wouldn’t hold any of that against Ms. Matthews, particularly when she was so darn cute all fired up, blushing and battling her conscience. Would she make a scene if he did the unimaginable and kissed her, or would she melt into his embrace and maybe make the front page herself?
Sorely tempted, his head dropped lower, but at the last moment, his trajectory veered and his attention fell again to the baby. He collected the carrier and headed for the hotel exit. A few seconds later, Trinity Matthews’s heels were clicking double-time behind him.
Outside, from a gray Colorado sky buttressed by mountains, the snow was falling faster. When they were all safely back in the cab, Zack called Child Services on his cell while the meter ticked and Trinity watched the baby. Finally he spoke with a woman who asked for his number and address then said a representative would get back to him as soon as possible. She also said it was her obligation to inform the police of all details, including his. Perfect. Saved him.
As he ended the call, in hushed tones, Trinity asked, “What’d they say?”
“They’ll get back to us.”
“When?”
“When they can.” Soon, he hoped. He slotted the cell away. “In the meantime, we’ll pick up some spare diapers and head over to Mrs. Dale’s.”
When the authorities took away the baby, he’d pay for Trinity’s return fare to the airport. With this good deed done and out of the way, he’d get to sipping that brandy before a toasty log fire. Zack was in half a mind to ask whether Trinity might like to join him, if only to see whether she’d leap at the chance to dress him down or betray her morality for curiosity and accept.
They stopped at a drugstore. The baby was still asleep when Zack returned to load the trunk with two bags of diapers, as well as wipes, additional formula, bottles and three small undershirts and one-piece outfits. As Zack well knew, in any venture, preparedness was the key. Besides, the pink suit had tiny ears on the hood like a cat or bear. Who could pass that up?
The baby was still pushing out pint-size z’s when half an hour later the cab swerved into his neighbors’ long driveway.
Dusk had fallen over the peaceful, largely unpopulated district, which was bordered by giant firs, their branches burdened with the weight of new snow. A lonely streetlamp cast an eerie glow over the wintery ground but no light shone from the Dales’ place. In fact, for the first time Zack could recall, that house appeared quite still.
Deserted.
Trinity was peering out the foggy window, too.
“No one’s home.” Studying the surrounding woods, she sat back and hugged herself. “We should have stayed at the hotel. Do you even get cell reception out this far?”
“If you’re heading back in, you’d want to be quick about it.” The driver upped the wiper speed and blades thrashed triple-time across the icy screen. “This is turning into a storm.”
Fingers threaded on his lap, Zack thought for a moment then gave the driver instructions. “Continue on, a hundred yards down on your right.”
“Hang on just a minute.” Trinity clutched her seat belt like it was the only parachute on a plane going down. “Did you hear what he said? This snow’s not letting up. If we’re going back into town, we need to go now.”
“The authorities have my details. They know where we’re headed. We’ll stay put until they get back to us.”
In the growing shadows, her eyes flashed and those kissable lips tightened. She shook her head. “We’re going back.”
“Not an option.”
“Why not?”
“You mean aside from being smart and staying out of this weather?”
He paused long enough to draw attention to wind gusting and whistling outside. When Mother Nature spoke, people did best to listen. Besides, he refused to set foot inside that hotel again until Dirkins had sufficient time to sweat over his offer. If he checked in tonight, the owner of that hotel would assume Zack had weakened and was prepared to sweeten the offer he’d made. That wasn’t the case, no matter how much Zack sympathized with Dirkins’s personal situation. A death in the family was never easy, particularly, he imagined, when it involved an only son.
The baby shifted. A tiny fist curled into the blanket. Zack held his breath while she yawned, stretched and squeaked at the same time a frown pinched her flawless brow.
He
