Come Hell or High Desire (3 page)

BOOK: Come Hell or High Desire
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Chapter Four

Long legs, shiny hair, and eyes too sexy for their own good haunted Zack until he
turned the corner to Ann’s block. A black Bentley that cost as much as a decent starter
home dominated her driveway. A heavy weight settled in his gut when he parked at the
curb and noted Timothy Benjamin’s startled expression as he spun away from Ann’s closed
front door. Zack unclenched his teeth and stepped out of the cab.

“Well, well, look who’s come to call. Good to know you aren’t a total recluse, Goldman,
but I could’ve saved you the trouble had I known you were on your way. The lady’s
not in this morning.”

“Was she expecting you?”

Something flickered in Benjamin’s eyes for a second. “Not entirely.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Either she invited you, or she didn’t.”

“My wife is organizing a charity fashion show and asked me to help find models. Of
course, I thought of Ann immediately.”

“And you thought you’d drive right over to ask in person on a Sunday morning instead
of calling or asking any of the next hundred times you walk into the office? How remarkably
inefficient of you, Tim.”

The loose skin around Benjamin’s eyes crinkled as his eyes narrowed. “And that’s remarkably
rude of you to say. But then, I don’t really expect more out of someone like you.”

Zack forced himself to relax his shoulders as Benjamin brushed by him. Thinly veiled
references to the past didn’t hurt so much anymore.
Yeah, right.
He watched the back of Benjamin’s head until the car’s tail lights vanished around
the block. Then he turned back to Ann’s front door feeling his shoulder muscles ball
up again—the way they always had when bad shit was about to go down.


Sloane slid her SUV into park in Ann’s driveway and sat there for a moment, willing
herself to open the door and get it over with. Zack pushed away from where he’d been
leaning near Ann’s front door, and started walking toward her car. Her heart gave
a curious tug at the lost-little-boy look he masked before halting near her front
bumper.

He waited there, one big hand scraping across his stubble, until she exited the vehicle.
“What are you doing here? Did Ann call or show up at the store yet?” he asked.

“No, but one of my part-timers came in after you left and said Ann had a date last
night. Do you know her boyfriend? Maybe you could give him a call.” Lordy, were his
eyes ever a complex mixture of greens. Saturated shades of rich color like the underside
of a sunlit leaf.

Those eyes clouded over. “You came here to tell me she had a date last night?”

“Isn’t it likely they’re still together?”

His arms folded across his chest. A really, really nice chest. And…other parts. “I
don’t know about any date Ann may have had last night. Was there anything else you
needed here?”

A spurt of heat warmed her cheeks. “Actually, yes. Ann has something from the store
that I need to get back for a client. Have you been inside? To make sure she’s—you
know—
actually gone
?”

His eyes darkened, but a bit of his bluster dissipated. “There’s nothing wrong. No
sign of forced entry. No missing luggage, jewelry, art. Not even any dirty dishes
in the sink to tell me the last time she ate. And her car is sitting in the damn garage.”

“So she was picked up and stayed overnight with him.” Sloane looked to Ann’s front
door, fixing on the door handle. Her vision flickered, and she staggered forward until
Zack’s warm hands grasped her arms, dispelling the gray haze in her mind. She blinked
up at him. Subtle waves of energy poured into her where his hands made contact with
her skin.

“You okay?” His speech wrapped around her, warm and comforting. The sudden change
in his attitude was almost as disconcerting as the psychic jolt.

Or whatever that had been.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” She stepped back as far as good manners allowed and rubbed
her upper arms. “Mind if I go inside to get what I need for the store? It’s a Limited
Edition crystal rhino, about yea-big—”

“How’d you know I’d even be here?” he asked.

“I didn’t, but I hoped if Ann wasn’t, you might be.” He didn’t respond, and heat crept
up her neck. “Look, I really need to get that rhino back. At the store, you said you
were coming here after your meeting, and I took you at your word. You have a problem
with that?”

He didn’t say anything for a long while, but took her measure with those gorgeous
eyes. Then he blinked, and she could breathe again.

Until he shoved his hands in his front pockets.
Oh
, but the man was well-made.

“My word’s good. But what’s this really about?” he asked.

“What is your problem? I just told you—”

“Lies are for cowards.”

Her breath seized at his quiet words. If he only knew how many lies she’d had to tell
over the years to protect her—

Sssecretsss.

She glanced to the side, looking for the source of the echoing sound, then back at
Zack, but he didn’t seem to have heard it. She clasped her icy hands and faced Ann’s
front door. Her peripheral vision glimmered. A rolling tightness crept from her stomach
toward her esophagus.
Oh, Lord, something’s really wrong here.

And Zack was watching her.
Think about Ann. Ask a few helpful questions, then you can leave in good conscience.
“Is there anyone else you can call? Any other family or friends she could possibly
be with?”

He looked down at his scuffed work boots. “No. I’m not blood, but I’m all she’s got.”

One of his elbows brushed her shoulder when he raked a hand through his hair, turned,
and started up Ann’s walkway. A blast of negative energy radiated off him, leaving
her nerves vibrating in awareness. That kind of damaging aura from anyone else required
use of her psychic energy shield. Why not from him? Her nausea had abated as well.
“What did you just do?” she asked, trailing after him.

“What?” He halted on the walkway arranged with brimming petunia pots, his hair sticking
out at all angles from hand-worrying it.

Her heart slugged away at her chest like it had in high school when she got those
sideways glimpses from the teachers. “Nothing. I, uh, I’m gonna head back to the store
now. I’m sure Ann’s fine.”

But Zack’s glower told her he didn’t believe it either. Which left them where? Mother
had always told her ignoring her gut was equivalent to playing Russian roulette with
just one empty chamber. But that didn’t make her any less determined to ignore the
compulsion telling her to walk up to Ann’s front door and hold on for the ride.

Crap, crap, crap.

A woman moseyed down the walkway from the condo next door, making poor pretense of
waiting for her tiny fur ball to pee while she angled her ear their direction. Zack
moved closer to whisper. “If you see Ann first, have her call me.”

She’d never seen such expressive eyes in her life. Right now they were so earnest.
What would it be like to have a man that concerned for your welfare?
Why couldn’t you affect me differently?

He seemed to storm her defenses without even trying, so he
had
to be off limits. Just the thought of hurting someone again…

Her teeth grabbed her lower lip. Suddenly his eyes crinkled at the corners and the
color lightened to that sparkling green once more. They were saying something entirely
different now. Butterflies began a mass migration from the pit of her belly to her
chest.

He cleared his throat.

Right.
Her turn to speak. “Call you. Sure thing. Bye now.” She turned to walk back to her
SUV.

“What about the rhino?”

She stopped mid-stride.
Lord, thunder, and Jesus.
She hadn’t made such a dolt of herself in front of a guy since the tenth grade when
she’d tripped on her prom dress and landed in the punch bowl. She’d sworn off high
heels for the most part since then. Besides, towering over your dates didn’t do much
for their egos.

But when she turned around to face Zack, she realized this wouldn’t be a problem with
him. Standing in her wear-once-in-a-blue-moon three inch espadrilles, she matched
up mouth to mouth with him. Her eyes dropped lower. From the contours of his black
T-shirt, she discerned powerful shoulders and a solid chest that made her fingers
itch.

Yummy.

A dog yipped. She jumped like a teenager caught in the backseat, and Zack’s grin stopped
her heart for a split second. Then he turned to catch up to the neighbor lady with
the stupid pooch.

Sloane brought her hands to her hot cheeks and watched his spectacular ass jog across
the lawn. Ms. Pink Polyester tugged the leash, nearly air walking the dog in her hurry
to return inside. Sloane looked at her SUV longingly, but she had to retrieve the
rhino first, deal with Benjamin second, and hopefully somewhere down the line launch
Project Broken Wings.

Maybe in the process of helping others, she could mend herself, too.

She cut across the lawns to catch up. She’d ask his permission to go inside, get the
rhino, then split.

“Excuse me, ma’am. Mrs. Bailey, right? I remember your excellent oatmeal cookies from
when I helped Ann move. I’m Zack Goldman.”

The woman stopped abruptly and the dog rammed its nose into her calf. Her faded blue
eyes beamed. “Why, thank you, but call me Agnes.”

While Zack and Agnes talked, Sloane couldn’t help looking at Ann’s portico again.
All the cheerful flower pots couldn’t dispel the unease emanating from the house.
Particularly the door.

Leave now.

Oh, she wanted to, but without Benjamin’s backing, she’d have to put the foundation
on hold. Find another sponsor. There
was
one other possible benefactor, but he didn’t have nearly the resources Benjamin did.

She rubbed her forehead. She’d finally been able to put the past behind her and had
been making all the right choices. Because her store was her passion, the people who
worked for her were more than overhead. She hired deliberately, carefully, and made
an effort to really get to know her people.

People first.

Problem was, this time the ideology seemed to be calling upon her gift.

Why?
She couldn’t help anyone. Not like her mother who worked with the FBI.
Oh, no.
Hers was a broken gift with the power to hurt, not heal

And the closer you are to me, the more you stand to lose.

She peered at Ann’s door once more, then started toward her vehicle. She’d find an
excuse for Benjamin and get the rhino later because even if the door handle could
tell her where Ann had been going, what would she tell Zack?
Hey Zack, Ann went to such-and-such place, and this is how I know…?

The skin on her neck burned. Chest, too.
Please no hives this time. Almost to the car.

There was no way she could do this. That door would have to keep its secrets. She
closed her eyes as guilt and relief warred within.

“Sloane.”

Startled, she thrust a hand out to steady herself, touching the metal door handle
of Zack’s truck. In an instant, her peripheral vision grayed, and she was sucked into
another dimension. She tried to hold on to reality, imagining a bright pulse of light
rapidly enveloping her body like a white blood cell encasing a virus.

But it was too late. Contact with the door had been made before she could seal the
protection shield.

A tsunami roared in her ears. She experienced the blow of residual emotion first.
Frustration, anger, and anxiety slammed into her system, forming a tight knot in her
belly. Then images rolled through her mind, one after the other so fast she felt nauseous.

A well-muscled man in a suit. Sandy blond hair. Attractive. He speaks to Zack:
You can handle this.
He has such a nice inflection.

Zack strides past the man and enters a well-appointed conference room with floor to
ceiling windows. Two men in sport coats rise and extend soft hands. Zack’s disgust
tastes like acid in her mouth. Their conversation swirls through her head, making
her so dizzy she can’t keep up with Zack’s cascade of emotion.

Disappointment. Shame. Guilt.

She hears his thoughts.
Who left the note? Why? Where, Ann? Where can you be?

Her soul wants to bleed at the agony in his tone.

“Sloane.”

The bright afternoon sunlight punched through the vision. She swayed, heard a moan,
and then her stomach heaved, emptying until there was nothing left. Spent, she was
on her hands and knees. Something firm braced her ribcage below her breasts. Holding
her up.
Zack.

Oh, Lord.
She’d just puked. In. Front. Of. Him.

She tried to stand.

“Easy.” Zack’s husky drawl stirred the hair by her ear, sending goose bumps on a painful
relay across her arms. Her skin, already so sensitized by the vision, tingled at the
touch of the hard male curved around her.

“Fine! I’m fine. Can you…I need to sit down.” When he swung her up into his arms,
her heart galloped, and her stomach quavered all over again. She wanted to cry. And
Sloane Petra Swift didn’t do crying in front of an audience.

“Just put me down! On the ground. Please. In the grass. I want to sit in the grass.
Now!”

Her voice cracked on the last word. Zack eased her down beside the rampant red blooms
of a weigela bush. She wiped at her mouth and thrust her fingers into the grass until
her nails found rich soil. She closed her eyes to imagine a pathway traveling from
the center of her body through her fingertip connection to the earth. The sudden discharge
of energy made her weak.

She’d avoided this shit for six years. Envisioning the aftermath of a girl’s murder
as she had would probably make anyone averse. And while the results of this vision
weren’t nearly as horrific, what good had come of it?

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