Page 11 of Her Ohio Old Flame

She crossed her arms, her lips pressing tighter. “I can’t leave him.”

“He’s asleep, and he’ll be out for a while,” Zane insisted. “You need to eat. Just ten minutes. Then we’ll come right back.”

Her glare was sharp.

“Don’t make me drag you down there.”

“I’m fine,” she said, though without conviction.

“Asha,” he said, his worry spiking. “You need to take care of yourself, too. What happens if you run yourself into the ground? Who’s going to look after your parents then?”

Her silence was all the confirmation he needed. Gently but firmly, he placed a hand on her arm. “Come on. Just for a bite. You eat, and we come right back. Deal?”

She hesitated, her lips parting as though to argue, but the fight seemed to drain out of her. “Fine,” she muttered, standing and smoothing her hands over her jeans.

Zane led the way out of the room, glancing back to make sure she followed. As they headed toward the cafeteria, he cast a sideways look at her, his worry deepening.

“You really haven’t eaten all day?” He kept his question casual.

She shrugged. “I wasn’t hungry.”

“That’s not an excuse.” Zane’s jaw tightened, and he let out a sharp breath through his nose. “I should spank you for that.”

Her head snapped up, her eyes widening. “Spank me?”

Something flashed in her eyes—intrigue maybe? Whatever it was, it made his cock stir to life behind his zipper.

The corner of his mouth twitched, though he kept his expression mostly neutral. “Yeah. Spank you. For not taking care of yourself.”

Asha narrowed her eyes and firmed her lips, yet beneath her irritation, a flicker of curiosity—and something warmer—stirred at his mention of a spanking. Her pulse quickened.

As they stepped into the elevator, the doors sliding shut with a soft chime, Asha stole a glance at him. The confined space brought back memories of a scene fromFifty Shades of Grey.

Asha’s irritation at Zane’s assertiveness was undeniable, yet beneath that surface bristling lay an unexpected undercurrent of intrigue—and, to her surprise, arousal. The mere mention of a spanking gave her a delicious shiver, quickening her pulse.Am I into that?The thought was both startling and provocative.Am I into Zane?The answer was immediate and undeniable.Of course she was. He wasn’t the young boy she had been head over heels for before leaving Peaceful with a broken heart and spirit, but he was still Zane—strong, reliable, with a take-charge attitude that both stimulated and annoyed her.

The confined space seemed to shrink around them, amplifying the heat radiating from Zane’s body. She could almost feel the electric charge between them, her pulse quickening with each passing second. The memory of a particular elevator scene in her favorite erotic romance novel made her acutely aware of Zane's presence beside her. Her breath hitched, and warmth pooled low in her belly.Oh hell.She shifted her weight slightly. And now she was getting aroused.

Zane stood beside her, his presence commanding yet comforting. The scent of his cologne—woodsy with a hint of spice—filled the small space, making her acutely aware of how close they were. She made fists, trying to steady her racing thoughts.Maybe he doesn't hate me. After all, he had come all the way to the city. He didn’t need to do that. It went beyond the job he kept referring to.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened to the cafeteria floor. Asha exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and stepped out with a newfound awareness of the man beside her and the unresolved tension simmering between them.

Chapter Six

Zane balanced the tray with one hand, allowing his gaze to drift to Asha’s sparse selection of a plain omelet and black coffee. He didn’t bother hiding his disapproval as he grabbed a small salad and a bottle of orange juice, placing them on the tray beside her choices.

“That’s unnecessary,” she said, clearly sharp with annoyance.

“Not for someone who hasn’t eaten all day,” he replied without hesitation, leading the way to the cashier.

She frowned but didn’t argue further, trailing behind him. At the register, however, she stepped forward and slid her card across the counter before he could stop her.

“I’ve got this.” She cut him off with a look that brooked no argument.

“Asha—”

“No.” Her lips curved into a small, victorious smile. “This one’s mine. Don’t argue.”

His clenched his jaw but let the moment pass, shaking his head as they carried their trays to a small table near the window. He lowered himself into one of the plastic chairs, the frame groaning under his weight. It wasn’t built for someone his size,and he shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a position that didn’t pinch his shoulders.

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