Real Men Last All Night (4 page)

"Every Sunday the whole mob usually shows up at our parents' home. With the exception of Ryan who's in the Marines."
Or when either Lexi or I are undercover,
he added to himself. Zane cut a piece of his filet. Before he knew the words were coming out of his mouth, he said, "Would you like to come to lunch with my family this Sunday?"

You are one screwed-up SOB, Steele. What happened to
no
relationships? You're moving
way too fast, buddy.

Willow's brilliant smile did such strange things to his gut that made him crave one smile after another from her. "Great. I have Sunday off."

Zane started cutting his filet. "Mammy is going to love you."

"Cool." Willow took another sip of wine. "Can't wait to meet all of them. Bet your mother fixes great Irish dishes, too."

"She bakes one hell of a shepherd's pie." He shook his head at the same time. "But honey, as far as betting goes, I'm not betting with you on anything again."

Willow slipped her hand into Zane's and smiled up at him as they walked outside into the summer evening.

The way he looked at her—entranced, yet the fear of relationships was constantly in his eyes.

A mystery, yes, but she'd bet it had something to do with his job. He didn't have the look of a man who'd been burned—because he'd never let himself get that far in a relationship.

He ran before it got too serious.

She might just have to change that.

"Where are you parked?" His smooth deep voice flowed over her and it gave her delightful shivers.

"I took a cab."

"From West Roxbury?"

"I hate driving in Boston." She ran her hand from just below her breasts to her hip in a slow movement and watched his eyes follow her hand. "And I wasn't crazy about riding the T dressed like this."

Zane had that hungry look in his gaze again. "You'd better
not ever
ride the T dressed like that."

Willow leaned against his shoulder as they walked and he squeezed her hand tighter.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah." His voice sounded concerned and possessive all at once and she wondered if he realized it. "I'll take you back to your aunt and uncle's."

"I have a better idea." She tilted her head to look up at him. "Why don't you show me your place and we'll finish what we started?"

She wondered if he realized he was squeezing her hand so hard or that she was holding her breath for his answer. "It's a mess."

Willow drew him to a stop at the corner near the parking garage. She looked at him, meeting his gaze, wishing she could see his green eyes better. "I'm not interested in what your place looks like. I'm interested in you."

In the dim light coming from a nearby lamppost she saw his throat work. Then he caught her completely off guard by releasing her hand and holding her face in his palms. And he kissed her.

Not a wild, hard kiss like his powerful kisses in the restaurant, but gentle and demanding all at once. The moans rising up in her throat came out like a soft purr as she moved her hands to his hard chest and explored his muscular pecs, shoulders, and biceps as his tongue moved with hers and they tasted one another.

His flavor was masculine and delicious, and included a hint of the wine they'd been drinking. And lord, his scent. So male, with a touch of a musk-scented aftershave.

Zane lightly bit her lower lip then kissed her harder, even more demandingly, as he moved his hands to her waist and drew her close and tight against his erection. Willow sighed into his mouth and brought her arms around his neck. She slipped her fingers into his black hair and ruffled it just like she'd been wanting to all night.

The heavy rise and fall of his chest brushed her breasts, and her nipples were so tight they ached. He kissed her long and hard until she started to feel dizzy.

"Yeah." Zane broke their kiss and stared down at her before he took a step back and captured her hand in his again. He sounded out of breath when he spoke. "My place.

Before I take you right here on the street."

"The street, huh?" She ran her free hand over his chest and felt the rapid beating of his heart. She continued to trail her fingers down to his cock and he hissed when she cupped his balls. "That's not such a bad idea," she said, knowing mischief was in her eyes, her expression.

Zane immediately clamped his hand over her mouth and his tone was almost dangerous.

"You'd better not dare me again, honey, because I might just take you up on it."

With Willow sitting on the other side of the console, fire coursed through Zane's body as he drove his Chevy Silverado to his home in Quincy. Images of taking Willow in every way possible continually rolled through his mind and he had to grind his teeth to keep his focus on the road.

He glanced at Willow. "You don't strike me as the type of woman who meets a man in the Common and goes to bed with him the same night."

Her dimple was easy to see in the glow of the dashboard lights as she smiled. "Like my friend Linda says, I don't even date, much less have sex with strange men."

Zane had to force himself to keep his eyes on the road before he glanced at her again.

"Why me?"

"The moment I noticed you watching me, I felt a connection."

Willow raised her slender arms and drew her blond-streaked hair over her shoulders before she lowered her hands to her lap. She looked at him with frank honesty in her eyes. "A connection that I've never felt with anyone."

He tried to swallow but his throat was too dry as he looked back to the road. "I told you I don't do relationships."

"Why?" she asked with clear curiosity in her voice. "What are you afraid of?"

Zane couldn't believe he was having this conversation with any woman. Yet with Willow he felt comfortable for the first time in telling the truth.

He looked at her and then the road again. "My job is dangerous and the people I care for could be in just as much danger if they knew the truth."

"You're not actually Secret Service." She said it with such ease and lack of judgment.

"You're with -whatever agency Stacy was in."

Zane almost stomped on the brake from the shock that tore through him. He cut his gaze to her. "What did Stacy tell you?"

"Nothing." Willow shrugged. "I just knew she wasn't an interpreter no matter that she could speak five languages. I had no doubt she was in some secret branch of law enforcement."

He focused on the road long enough to make sure he was in the right lane and not about to tumble his truck thanks to the shock.

Willow clasped her hands around her knee. "It was in the way she always sat facing a doorway when we would go out to lunch, the way she observed everything and everyone around us without actually looking like she was doing it."

Shit.

"Stacy had a kind of tenseness about her on some days but other days she would be relaxed and it was obvious she was truly enjoying herself," Willow said. "That was mostly at her home. She didn't like to go out of the house much when she wasn't at work."

Zane didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say that wouldn't just compound the lies he already lived.

Willow stared out the window at the dark scenery streaking by. "I asked her about it once and she almost choked on a bite of chocolate cake. She denied it of course, but I could see the truth in her eyes, along with a touch of fear—for me because I'd guessed."

When he glanced back from the road, Willow was studying him again. For the first time he saw true pain in her gaze. "Tell me Stacy didn't die randomly. That she wasn't just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I won't ask anything else and I won't say a word to anyone. I just need to know."

What could he say? Zane only knew he couldn't lie about Stacy to Willow.

He waited a couple of heartbeats as he gripped the steering wheel. Finally he met Willow's eyes and managed to get out the words. "Special Agent Stacy Randolph died a hero."

"Thank you." Willow whispered the words as she looked at her hands in her lap.

Zane cleared his throat. "My—one of the agents found the sonofabitch who did it and made sure he got what he deserved and then some."

"Good." Willow nodded and his heart almost crumbled for her when she wiped a tear away that had streaked down her face. She kept her gaze on her lap. "I knew the agency would take care of whoever killed my cousin."

"If everyone was so damned observant as you," Zane said as he glanced at Willow, "we'd be in deep shit."

Her smile was still a little sad as she raised her eyes to meet his.

"I wish her parents could be told the truth. She wasn't just another victim."

Zane's muscles tensed so much his entire body felt coiled. "It's dangerous to you to have guessed as much as you have."

"I have no intention of letting anyone else have a clue I figured out a little of the truth."

She wiped at both of her eyes and gave a soft laugh. "I don't even know enough to have it tortured out of me.

"Don't talk about things like that." Zane ground his teeth and reached for her hand as he drove with his other.

Willow interlocked her fingers with his and squeezed. "I understand, Zane. Just know that with me you don't have anything to be afraid of."

"I have everything to be afraid of," he said quietly.

They remained silent the remainder of the way to Zane's house, their hands joined and resting on the padded console as he drove.

Their conversation played through Willow's mind as she thought about Stacy and the dangerous life she must have led. And that Zane lived now.

When he came to a stop in front of a colonial-style home, he parked, climbed out, then went around to her side and helped her out of his big truck. When her feet were firmly on the sidewalk, Willow found herself meeting Zane's gaze, his hands resting on her waist.

His eyes were shadowed in the darkness that was relieved only slightly from a nearby streetlight. He looked at her for a long moment before she kissed him. At first he seemed hesitant, almost like he was afraid she would break. But then she drew him into the kiss, and his hunger and the strength of his need flowed through her.

He needed her.

She needed him.

Not in the sexual sense, but in the soul-deep sense.

Although the sex was a must.

Zane drew away, his expression as dark as the night and just as easy to read.

The doors locked silently as he used the remote before he took her hand.

Willow said, "It looks like a nice street."

"I'm not home a lot, but the neighbors watch out for one another." Zane continued to hold her hand as they went up the front steps. "It's a good community."

When they finally made it into the house, Zane didn't give her much time to take in his living area and kitchen. She only caught a glimpse of hardwood floors, leather furniture, and granite counter-tops because he immediately flipped on a light that illuminated the stairs and began leading her up.

Three open doors led off the upstairs hallway and Zane took her to the farthest one. She caught a glimpse of a darkened weight room and a small tiled bathroom on the way. He turned on another switch and soft light illuminated the room from either side of what was definitely a master bedroom. It was entirely masculine. Thick rough natural pine furnishings and a stone fireplace with a pine mantel, along with wood blinds and wood flooring gave it a rustic look. The colors suited him, too. Forest-green bedding and throw rugs by the fireplace and bed.

"This is not what I'd call messy," she said as she looked up at him.

He shrugged. "I have a cleaning service come in once a week so it's not too bad all of the time."

The covers on the bed were pulled back, and her heart started beating faster as he led her to it. He maneuvered her so that she was sitting on the edge of the bed while he knelt and eased off each of her heels.

She thought he was going to take off her dress, but instead he guided her so that she was on the bed lying on her side and watching him watch her.

"God, you're beautiful, Willow." Zane looked almost helpless. "And not just on the outside."

"Whether or not you believe it, Zane Steele," she said softly, "so are you."

She didn't take her eyes off of him as he removed his boots before slipping out of his overshirt. He put his shoulder holster and handgun into the drawer of the nightstand next to the bed.

Then he slid onto the mattress so that they were both on their sides, fully clothed, and looking at one another. Not touching, just being.

Her gaze traveled over his powerful body, his defined biceps, corded forearms, and strong hands. His thick black hair was a delicious contrast to his green eyes, which held fire and warmth, danger and excitement—and fear.

It was the fear that tore at her heart.

After a few moments his muscles shifted in his shoulders and arm as he brought his fingers to her face and traced her jawline. His expression was serious, pained. "I'm scared to death, Willow."

She brought her hand to his and felt his warmth beneath her palm. His callused hand was rough over her cheek as she turned her head just enough to kiss his palm before meeting his gaze again. "Don't be," she said.

Zane brought her hand to his chest, over his heart, and she felt the strong rapid beat through his shirt. "Feel that?" His throat worked as he swallowed. "It would break if I fell for you and anything happened that would take you away from me."

Willow's own heart jerked at Zane's words and she felt his fear for those he cared about and his loneliness straight to her bones.

An unexpected sensation twisted deep in her belly and she realized it was her feeling the same fear for him—that something might happen to him like what had happened to her cousin. She pushed back those thoughts and concentrated on the man she was with. The man she wanted to soothe and make love to.

Willow moved her hand to his powerful shoulder and felt the ripple of muscle beneath her palm as he let her slowly push him onto his back. She eased herself up and onto him so that she was straddling his trim hips, her short dress hiked all the way up her thighs.