Chapter 9
Up until he stepped into the courtroom, she had not decided on the next phase.
As soon as she saw him, the decision was made, just like that.
Her pulse quickened as she turned around and watched as he walked in.
His sweater, unrelieved black all the way through, made him look very dangerous.
His hair was loose, flowing freely down his shoulders.
And he was wearing boots. What on earth was it about a man wearing black scarred boots?
But then it was settled.
Zane frowned and stopped short as he just stood there looking around.
Where the hell was she? he wondered, pissed to the bone.
He had spent the last few days working up the nerve to find her.
When the slick-looking female with the bright highlights and chic narrow skirt with thin red stripes running vertically turned around, he felt the blood drain entirely out of his head to pool in the center of his body.
He went still as a stone as he stared at her. She looked different, completely different: the hair, the clothes. Christ! She was showing skin. The sweater was scooped at the neck, showing more than a hint of flesh. And she was wearing knee-high boots. And what the hell had she done with her hair?
Kara met his eyes, noticing his expression, and to his further shock, sent him a provocative smile that had his breath backing up in his throat.
He felt his knees turning to rubber.
When she turned back to her cross-examination, he groped for the seat next to him and lowered himself.
His heart was thundering so hard, he had a tough time hearing anything over the blood roaring through his head.
His palms were sweating, and he was as hard as a rock and uncomfortable in the process.
She had changed everything about herself, and he was not sure he liked it.
He had been good with the way she looked before.
And she was attracting a lot of male attention.
He didn't like it one bit. He had to tamp down the urge to march over to the defense attorney who was eyeing her up and down like a prime piece of meat.
Awareness of the tumult she was causing boosted Kara's confidence and had her voice ringing out in the courtroom.
*****
Kara knew he would be waiting for her out in the parking lot.
She had finished her summation and turned around to notice that he had left.
Her steps faltered when she saw him leaning on the door of her car, legs crossed at the ankles, the smoke curling upward from the cigar between his very white teeth.
"Zane."
His golden eyes wandered over her face and over her body before coming back to her face. "Love the look."
"Thank you." She inclined her head regally, eyes holding his.
"Why the changes?"
She shrugged. "I decided it was time I tried something else."
His eyes settled on lips coated with some sort of pale pink, and he felt his body tightening. He had to leave the courtroom after half an hour to try and cool off. Not only was he hungry for her, but he was angry as well. The sweater was so tight, he could see the imprint of her nipples.
Tossing the cigar away, he crossed his arms over his chest. "Coffee." He repeated the offer that he had made her all those weeks ago. Expecting her to refuse, he stood there waiting.
When she simply smiled and said, "Dinner," he blinked at her.
"What?"
"How about dinner?" Taking out her key fob, she pressed the button to disengage the alarm. "At my place. I'll cook. I'm quite good at it."
When she nudged him aside, he was so flabbergasted and distracted, he allowed her.
"You want to cook for me."
"Yes."
"At your place."
She turned and sent him that seductive smile that had his insides curling into knots, painful ones. He was sure his blood pressure had gone into the stroke area.
"That's where the stove is." She opened the back door and made a production of leaning over to toss her handbag in, giving him an unrestricted view of her tight and very shapely butt outlined in the skirt. He swayed, his palms sweating.
And she took her time straightening up. Zane had the uncomfortable idea that she knew exactly what the hell she was doing and was enjoying every minute of it.
"Well?"
"Well what?" he asked dazedly.
She laughed softly, her eyes skimming his face and settling on his lips. "Shall we say eight on Friday? Do you like shrimp?"
"What?"
"Are you a seafood lover?"
"I-" He cleared his throat. "Yes." He felt as if he was drowning.
"Good." Sliding behind the wheel, she whipped out a pair of shades from the holder and placed them over her eyes. "Come hungry." With a jaunty wave, she peeled out of the parking lot.
He stood there like a bloody buffoon with the blood pounding in his head and his knees as weak as a newborn baby's.
Walking drunkenly over to his motorcycle, he sat heavily.
This could not be the same woman who had been as timid as a kitten just a week ago.
The invitation to dinner at her place had felt like something else. Or was he making it up in his mind?
Did he want it to happen so much that he was reading something else into it? No. He shook his head. The invitation had been clear. They were definitely going to have sex.
Then why was he so bloody hesitant and nervous? Because he preferred to make the first move. And she had gone and shattered his initial impression of her. He wasn't sure he liked it. Not one bit.
*****
He sought the advice of a friend and considered David a stand-up one when David agreed to meet him at his trailer home.
And he figured that it said a lot about a man like David Synder to agree to kick back in a ratty lawn chair in front of a firepit, enjoying a can of good old American beer. David was used to living in the height of luxury. It amused Zane to see his friend in this very rustic setting.
"Comfy?"
Aware of his friend's derisive look, David deliberately stretched his long legs out, crossing them at the ankles. "Immensely. Beer and a blazing fire, nothing beats that."
"Unless it's the luxurious flat you left to come and hang out with me. What? You'd have been eating lobster tails and caviar and drinking a bottle of Cabernet."
"Filet mignon, foie gras and vintage champagne."
Zane huffed out a laugh. "Christ! You're so bloody predictable."
"That's what Hailey had for supper." Just the mention of his wife brought on the longing.
He had called her just before he left, waking her up by FaceTiming her.
The sight of her sexily sleepy face, the short hair tumbling over her forehead and the thin silk strap falling off her shoulders had sent him into a surge of lust he had found staggering.
But it hadn't surprised him one bit. The exquisite woman he had married and who bore his children could fell him with one glance.
It had been that way since the day he first set eyes on her.
"How's the lovely Hailey?"
"Annoyed that I woke her." He grinned foolishly. "I managed to soothe her ruffled feathers somewhat by sweet-talking her." He swallowed some beer. "Christ! I miss her like crazy."
Zane gave him a scornful look. "You're certifiably whipped."
"And enjoying every minute of it. Now what's this about?"
"When do you leave?" Zane wasn't eager to get into the matter at hand. Not yet.
"Day after tomorrow, and I can't wait. Next time, she's bloody well coming with me."
"A grown-ass man who cannot bear to be without his wife for what? A week?"
"Damn straight. It feels like I left the best part of me behind."
David watched as his friend rolled to his feet and went to poke at the fire. He recognized the restless and jerky movements for what they were.
"Are you going to tell me what's bothering you? Or should I take the poker you're using to pry it out of you?"
"I've been invited to dinner," he stated abruptly, turning to face David.
"All right. I'm assuming by the sexy ADA."
"Yes." His tone was terse. Putting the poker to the side, he shoved his hands into his pockets and paced. "Seafood."
"You like seafood."
"Yeah. She's different."
"Different how?"
Zane shrugged and walked back to the chair. Instead of sitting, he picked up his beer but did not drink it. "I didn't recognize her." He explained in detail what he had encountered on entering the courtroom. "I doubt that any man in the room was able to take his eyes off her. It pissed me off."
"She had a makeover."
"A drastic one." Zane looked at the can as if he were wondering how it got in his hand. "She's not afraid anymore or even timid. She clearly wants sex. The meal is just a euphemism. She invited me over to have sex with her."
"I see." David drew out the words, watching his friend carefully. "And you picked that up during the conversation?"
"I invited her for coffee, just like I did the first time, and she suggested dinner at her place.
When I kissed her in the garden, I sensed her fear and innocence.
" He frowned. "It was as if she had no experience in kissing.
That fired my lust to even greater proportions.
" He dragged a hand through the side of his hair.
"Now she's behaving like a siren. A woman of vast knowledge. She bent over. All the way over."
"Ah, the backward view." David nodded in understanding.
"I thought I was going to have a stroke." Zane swallowed beer and almost choked. "And ever since, I've been trying to figure out what the hell is happening."
"You shouldn't look a gift meal in the mouth." David grinned at the dirty look he received. "Just saying." He sipped his beer. "You want this woman."
"More than my next breath."
"Then what's the problem?"
"I think I'm falling in love with her. That's as stupid as hell since I only just met her. How the bloody hell can I feel so much in such a short time?"
David smiled at the frustration in his friend's voice.
"Like a lightning strike."
"What?" Zane whirled to pin him with a glance.