Obsession. Lisa Jackson

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to change the public’s view that she and Alan, who had once been costars of Obsession and were now cohosts of a popular morning show, were not lovers.

      “No date with Alan,” she said dryly.

      “Then there’s no reason not to spend a little time with me. Come on,” he insisted, his smile irresistible.

      “But—” Why not? It’s just a few hours, a voice inside her head teased. Wouldn’t it be nice to rely on him just a little and find out what he really knows about Lee Johnston? What could it hurt? She looked up at him and swallowed hard. There was a tiny part of her, a feminine part she tried to deny, that loved Zane’s image of power and brooding masculinity, that being around him did make her feel warm inside. But being around Zane was unsafe—her emotions were still much too raw.

      “Let’s go. I know a great place in the mountains. You can tell me all about your career as a talk-show hostess and maybe you’ll be able to convince me that you’ll take all the precautions necessary to keep you safe from Johnston.”

      “Okay,” she finally agreed, telling herself she wasn’t excited about the prospect of spending time with him. “But I’ll need time to change.”

      “I’ll wait,” he said amiably as he walked back to the bar. She watched him pour a drink, as she’d watched him a hundred times before. His shirt was a dark blue. His sleeves were pushed over his forearms to expose dark-skinned muscles that moved fluidly as he handled the bottle and glass. And his hands… She shouldn’t even look at his long, sensual fingers and blunt-cut nails.

      She swallowed hard against the memories—erotic memories that she’d hoped she’d forgotten. His gaze found hers in the mirror over the bar, and he smiled a little sexy smile. Her insides quivered.

      Turning quickly, before she stared any longer, she headed for the bedroom and told herself that she was a fool, but now that she’d committed herself, somehow she’d get through the evening ahead.

      Zane tried to ignore the disturbing sensations—sensations that were way out of line. Kaylie was his ex-wife for crying out loud, and here he was, pouring himself another drink, feeling like a teenager in the throes of lust. Returning to this house—this cottage by the sea where he and Kaylie had spent hours making love—had probably been a mistake of colossal proportions, but he’d had no choice. Not if he wanted his plan to work. And he did. More than anything.

      After the divorce he’d promised himself he’d give her room to grow. When he’d married her she’d been nineteen, and the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. Blond and tanned, slim and coy. Her laugh had been special, her touch divine.

      Though he’d fought his attraction to her, he couldn’t resist the wide innocence in her eyes, the genuine smile that curved her lips, her ingenious wit, though it was often used at his expense. His hands tightened around his glass as he remembered the scent of her perfume, the feel of her skin rubbing against his, the wonder of looking down into her eyes as he’d made love to her. And it had all changed the night a maniac had held a knife to her beautiful throat.

      Now Kaylie was beautiful but mature, her humor sharper, her sarcasm biting. Yet he still wanted her—more than a man with any sense should want a woman.

      And now her life was threatened.

      Paralyzing fear gripped him. Living without her had been hell. He’d just have to convince her that they belonged together. Hearing the bedroom door open, he turned, and his throat went desert dry.

      She was dressed in a white off-the-shoulder dress, her blond curls swept away from one side of her face, her eyes glinting with a gloriously seductive green light. “Okay, cowboy, this is your ride. Where’re we going?”

      The line was from one of her movies—she’d said it to him as well, late at night, when they had been alone in bed. Had she remembered? Undoubtedly. Zane’s diaphragm pressed hard against his lungs. “It’s a surprise.”

      She tilted her head at an angle. “Well, it had better be a short surprise. I have to get up at five tomorrow to tape the show.”

      “I’ll have you back by ten,” he lied, pretending ease as he snagged his scuffed jacket off the back of the couch and walked with her to the front door.

      He reached for the knob, but she laid a hand across his. “This is all on the up and up, isn’t it? One dinner and then you’ll hand over the keys?”

      His gut twisted. “That was the bargain.”

      “Then I’ll trust you,” she said, the corners of her beautiful mouth relaxing.

      He felt a twinge of guilt at deceiving her, but shrugged it off as he opened the door and she swept outside ahead of him. He’d played by her rules long enough. Now it was time she played by his.

      * * *

      Kaylie was nervous as a cat when, as they walked outside, she discovered a large brown and black shepherd lying on the porch. “Who are you?

      “Man’s best friend. Right, Franklin?” Zane said, whistling as he opened the back door of the Jeep and the dog leaped inside.

      “You bring him on all your dates?” she teased.

      He flicked her an interested glance. “My chaperone,” he drawled. “Just to keep you in line.”

      “Me?” she replied, but grinned as she slid into the passenger side. Maybe this date wouldn’t turn out to be the disaster she’d predicted.

      Casting a glance in his direction as he climbed behind the wheel, she realized that he would never change. He’d always be strong, arrogant, determined, stubborn and self-righteous. But funny, she reminded herself. He had been blessed with a sense of humor.

      Still, she was uneasy. She’d seen his mouth turn down when she’d quoted one of his favorite lines from an old movie. She’d done it on purpose, to check his reaction. He’d tried to hide his surprise, but she’d noticed the ghost of change in his eyes.

      So why hadn’t she refused to get into the Jeep with him?

      Kaylie cast her eyes about, not wanting to confront her actions. A part of her was still intrigued with him. And she’d been lonely in the past seven years. She’d missed him far more than she’d ever admit. Yes, she couldn’t handle the way he’d overreacted and tried to treat her like some fragile possession, but she’d missed his smile. She recalled it now with bittersweet poignancy, how that lazy slash of white would gleam against a darkened jaw as she’d awakened in his arms.

      Her heart pounded at the memory, and she silently cursed herself for being a nostalgic idiot. So she missed his sexy looks, his playful grin, his presence in her house.

      He headed east, leaving the sun to cast a few dying rays over the darkening waters of the Pacific. The sky had turned a dusky shade of lavender, reflected in the restless sea.

      Zane drove without saying much, but she could sense him watching her, smell the clean earthy scent of his aftershave. She’d been crazy to agree to this, she decided. She was much too aware of him.

      “Why did we leave

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