Page 30 of Big Bad Wolfe

Terror raked icy claws through his guts.

He pounded along the hard-packed sand at the shoreline. In such a short span of time, how the fuck had he come to appreciate, like, andcravebeing with Jillian?

He’d always had a thing for willowy blondes, but chose cool sophisticates who knew the score. Women who wanted sex with no strings, who understood he’d give them pleasure, but nothing more. No expectations, no treacherous emotional ties.

Caring, nurturing Jillian was the complete opposite. Her generous sweetness tempered by her unwavering courage beckoned his frozen heart. Tempted to dance ever closer to her bright warmth, he was as edgy as if he were juggling buzzing chainsaws.

But unless he wanted them both sliced to ribbons, he had to fight it.

Because even if he was idiotic enough to get involved with her, which hewasn’t,she came as a package deal with the kid. And no way could he risk that.

He ramped up his speed, running for miles. Until his heart labored, his lungs gasped for oxygen, his muscles screamed from the burn.

But he couldn’t outrun the fear.

* * *

Zane stayed in his room the rest of the afternoon and evening, telling Jillian he was working on a case—and sideswiped by guilt when she good-naturedly left a tray of food outside his door.

Another perimeter patrol after dark turned up nothing. He didn’t sleep much that night, either.

And then the next morning, the lab called with the DNA results.

Chapter 5

Jillian glanced over at Zane, handsome and remote in his Levi’s and crisp black button-down shirt as he intently drove her Mini Cooper at top speed toward Portland. He’d sequestered himself yesterday and she hadn’t seen him until breakfast this morning.

He’d been running scared since their second searing kiss.

Not that she blamed him, because the fallout had her pretty freaked, too. A stunning mind/body connection flowed between them … a spiritual and physical bond she’d never experienced with anyone else. Touching Zane, kissing him, somehow felt as necessary to her survival as breathing. And she’d longed for more. Longed for everything.

If he’d decided to take her upstairs that night, she’d have willingly tumbled into his bed.

Then what?

Her undeniable desire for Wolfe bewildered her. She’d never been a one-night woman, and besides, he was the opposite of everything she’d ever thought she wanted.

But she wanted him—all of him.With an all-consuming desire she’d never believed possible.

Maybe her biological clock was ticking. Hell, anytime she got anywhere close to Zane, her hormones went into nuclear meltdown. She sighed. However, her wants and desires had to be sublimated … because she not only had to consider the ramifications to herself, but to both Casey and Zane.

She studied Zane’s handsome, somber profile and set jaw. His attorney had definitely come through for them with expedited results. There’d been no doubt Zane was Casey’s father, so the confirming call from the lab this morning hadn’t seemed to disturb him. Visibly anyway. But she’d bet her entire disco collection her unfazeable FBI agent was fighting some degree of mental turmoil.

They’d dropped Casey off at the center after breakfast and immediately headed inland to talk to the lawyer.

Zane remained quiet and distant during the entire ninety minute drive. Jillian surreptitiously watched the bronzed muscles in his forearms flex beneath his rolled-up shirtsleeves as his strong, long-fingered hands confidently controlled the car. His capable hands exhibited appealing, self-assured masculine grace tempered with innate gentleness.

Her stomach flip-flopped. And those hands knew exactly how to touch her.

Even with the convertible’s open top generating a breeze, heat and suppressed energy emanated from his taut body. The man smoldered. She breathed in his clean, male essence, uniquely his own, and her head swam like she’d chugged half a bottle of rich, potent Kahlua. She wiped suddenly damp palms on her poppy-flowered sundress, fisting her fingers against the urge to reach over and pet him like a big, wild animal.

She distracted herself by humming along to the blues station he’d selected on the radio. She preferred melodic New Age ballads during meditation, but for fun and dancing, nothing beat disco. Her tendency to burst into Bee Gee’s hits drove her brothers to mutter dire threats against her retro boombox.

Serious, self-contained Zane didn’t seem like the disco type either. But his witty, wryly understated sense of humor had surprised and delighted her. And since he liked blues, he might enjoy the “Blues Brothers” movie. She’d have to dig out her DVD one of these evenings after Casey had gone to bed.

Maybe the engaging comedy would divert them from more hazardous activities.

Although the city teemed with traffic, Zane easily negotiated the maze of one-way streets downtown and across the Broadway Bridge to a quirky suburb on the east side of the river. He parked in front of a charming one-story brick building on a tree-lined street. After opening Jillian’s door, he extracted the bag containing Deb’s computer and phone from the trunk.

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