Born to Be Wild (6 page)

Just the same, she made a mental note to contact Frank on her own later and find out if he’d be receptive to the foundation throwing some work his way. Off the top of her head she knew at least a dozen parents who’d be interested in having Frank do some modification work for their wheelchair-bound children.

“How about a bite to eat?” Zach asked as they walked toward her sedate blue compact. “There’s a great steak house just down the street.”

Dara casually lifted her elbow from the tingling warmth of his light grasp and fished for her keys. “This went more quickly than I’d anticipated. I really should get back to the office. I have a ton of work I could make a dent in.”

“But you hadn’t planned on going back.”

“No.” She smiled, her expression one of determination, knowing where he was heading this time. “But now I am. I appreciate your having this set up so nicely for me to check out. Call when you have the rest of the trip outlined and we’ll set up a meeting.”

She pulled her door open and scooted inside. She stuck the key in the ignition and pushed the button to lower her window, fully prepared to toss him a casual good-bye and zip out of the lot. What she wasn’t prepared for was finding his gorgeous face a mere inch away
from hers. With the glass lowered, she could feel his breath against her cheek.

“All work and no play,” he admonished lightly. “Can’t you spare an hour of wand waving to reminisce over old times with a childhood friend?”

“All play and no work, Brogan,” she countered. “Someone’s got to work. Besides,” she added, “I don’t really think rehashing our particular past would be advisable while trying to eat. Do you?”

His lips spread slowly into a reckless grin. Dara felt her heart speed up as a tiny trickle of sweat wended its way between her breasts. No doubt just a reaction to sitting in the stifling heat of the car after being all closed up under the hot June sun.

He leaned a bit farther into the window, and it took all her willpower not to shift away from him. Or shift closer.

“You hold a grudge for a long time, Dart,” he said. “I’m not a jerky kid anymore. I promise I won’t make you kiss, hold, or swallow anything you don’t want to.”

Dara’s eyes widened, and a scarlet flush crept up her neck and across her cheeks. She could only pray fervently that he’d chalk it up to the heat. Because if he ever,
ever
guessed what the immediate images his words had triggered in her mind had been of—

Dear God, she’d simply have to kill herself. It would certainly be less painful and humiliating than listening to Zach laugh himself sick. And then, of course, just for old time’s sake, he’d probably feel compelled to share it with Dane and Jarrett. She shuddered.

“You’re remembering the time I dared you to eat the
ants, aren’t you?” He said it so sincerely, and looked so contrite.

It struck her as more than ironic that Zach was actually exhibiting honest concern—and she was the one with her mind in the gutter. She couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing. In fact, she laughed until tears ran down her face, probably taking half of her mascara with it. “Actually, no,” she said finally. “I’d forgotten about that one. But thanks for reminding me.” Still fighting the giggles, she hiccuped. He must think she was a lunatic. She wasn’t too sure about her mental state at the moment either.

Looking confused and more than a little concerned, Zach reached a hand in the car and felt her forehead. “You okay?”

She nodded, and leaned away from the heat of his palm, feeling suddenly vulnerable and a bit foolish. “Fine. I’m fine, really. I don’t know what came over me,” she lied. “I really should be getting back.”

He studied her for another moment, then smiled. “Well, if you won’t eat with me, would you mind giving me a lift as far as Dulles? I have a meeting with a client in a couple of hours.”

Zach took advantage of Dara’s momentary surprise to move around the back of the car—even he didn’t dare risk going around the front—and slid into the passenger seat. He also didn’t comment when he had to tuck his knees almost under his chin to fit into the bucket seat. In this case, beggars wouldn’t dare be choosers.

Dara closed her window and put the car into reverse. “Why are you having a meeting at the airport?”

“Mr. Fujimora will only be in town for twenty-four
hours. So I’m meeting him before his flight out for Tokyo.”

Zach almost laughed as he watched her try to hide her curiosity. For whatever reason, as an adult she’d suppressed her true nature. Gone was the daredevil, gone was the girl whose sole purpose in life had been to push herself—and him—to the limit. She’d been so much like her dad. Zach’s smile dimmed. Was the crash that killed her father responsible for this turnabout? Zach knew that George Colbourne had been a private pilot and that he’d died when his small jet had gone down during a snowstorm in the Blue Ridge just west of their Madison County home. A snowstorm Mr. Colbourne had known about, but had flown in anyway.

Dara had been eleven when he’d died. And while Zach remembered just how devastated she and Dane had been by their father’s death—Dara in particular as she was like a miniature version of her dad in both looks and attitude—he also knew that her wild ways had eventually resurfaced. Certainly before she’d moved away at fifteen.

So what
had
happened? Was it really just as simple as she’d grown up and changed direction? Not that there was anything wrong with her career. He admired the hell out of her for the important work she was doing. But her derogatory comments about his choice of profession—which the girl he’d known would have understood and championed—had him thinking that maybe she was purposely playing life safe. Busying herself slaying other people’s dragons so she wouldn’t have to face her own.

He watched her carefully, as she turned away to check traffic before pulling out of the lot. They’d reached the corner light when she suddenly stomped
on the brake, ignoring the blare of the horn coming from the car behind her. Zach reflexively pressed his hands to the roof of the car to keep from eating his kneecaps.

“Wait a minute, why am I giving you a lift?” she demanded. “I don’t even remember saying yes.”

“Frank is doing some work on my shocks,” he replied calmly.

“And just how did you expect to make your meeting with Mr. Fujimora?” The car behind them laid on the horn again. She shoved the car into first gear and turned onto Route 7. “Never mind. I’m sure wining and dining me into driving you was cheaper than cab fare. And you really lucked out this time. You didn’t even have to spring for the food.”

“The dinner invite is still open,” he said, struggling to pull the narrow seat belt across his chest as Dara darted through traffic.

“No thanks. I’m sure you can grab something at the airport while you wait.” She spared a quick glance at him as she rolled to a stop at the next red light. “What sort of trip are you planning this time?”

So she couldn’t let it go. Maybe the old Dara was closer to the surface than he’d suspected. He wondered if she suspected. “I can’t tell you.”

“What do you mean you can’t tell me?” she demanded. “You plan vacations—and I use that term loosely—not espionage.” Another honk from behind them had her muttering as she roared through the intersection.

Zach wedged his hand between his thigh and the door and gripped the handle. “Actually, this time it’s a
little of both. But that’s all I can tell you. Any more and I’d have to kill you.”

“Very funny.” Dara glared at him briefly, then returned her attention to the highway as she moved swiftly into the other lane to avoid running up on the fender of the slow-moving van in front of them.

“That is, if you don’t kill me first,” Zach muttered, letting loose a sigh of relief when the light ahead turned red. Had it been only moments ago that he’d silently accused her of playing life safe? Apparently that didn’t apply when she was behind the wheel.

“I heard that, Brogan.” Dara looked over at him. “I’ll have you know I have a perfect driving record. No tickets, no accidents.”

“So, there is a god.”

“Ha, ha, ha,” she retorted. “For a thrill-seeker, you sure scare easy.”

It was like watching an exotic butterfly emerge from a plain brown chrysalis. Had he read her completely wrong? He didn’t think so. She made her opinions quite clear. And often.

So what then? Was it his presence that brought out this side of her? He couldn’t ignore how incredibly intrigued he was by that idea. Not to mention challenged.

He loved challenges.

“The key to a successful thrill,” he stated, recalling her latest slur on his profession, “is planning carefully and thoroughly so you have as much control as the situation allows. The further you reduce the unnecessary risks, the more fully you can appreciate the unavoidable ones.

“Being the passenger in your car,” he continued
tightly, as she deftly tucked the compact between two cars in the fast lane without turning a hair, “doesn’t remotely fulfill any of those requirements.”

“I haven’t gone over the speed limit—”

He snorted.

“—by more than a mile or two,” she added, obviously enjoying his discomfort, “I used my turn signal every time I changed lanes—”

“I hardly think one blink as you cut back and forth is what the Department of Motor Vehicles handbook had in mind regarding safe lane changes.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she said. “I’m beginning to think you’re nothing but a big fraud.”

He had to bite his tongue to keep from making the same accusation. Did she have any idea how beautiful she was all fired up like this? “Fraud?” he shot back. “Take the first exit and go toward the hotel. I’ll have you know I’ve done things that would curl your toes.” He lifted his hands then quickly grabbed the dashboard as she pulled into the first parking space and stopped on a dime. “Why am I defending myself to you?”

She turned to face him. “I’m sure I have no idea,” she said sweetly. “But I’ll admit it’s nice to play offense for a change.”

Zach stared at her for two long beats. “You’re knocking me totally out,” he said, breaking into laughter. A second later, she joined him.

The sound slowly faded, though their smiles remained. When Dara’s smile faltered, Zach felt his pulse speed up. Her lips parted slightly, and he had to clench his hands to keep from reaching for her. “You sure you can’t fit in a quick dinner?” he asked, his voice husky. “I
imagine the Marriott here has a nice dining room.” When she didn’t immediately say no, he added, “We can use the time to go over my other ideas if that suits your strict moral working code better.”

He’d meant it as a joke, but he knew the minute the words left his mouth that the moment they’d shared—their first truly genuine one—was over.

“Sorry,” she said shortly. “Maybe some other time.”

Zach could have kicked himself, but there was no use in wasting time on wishes. He simply nodded and tried to unhook his seat belt, but it was wedged at an odd angle beneath his thigh. “Can’t seem to cut myself loose. If I shift, could you unhook me?”

Dara’s eyes narrowed as if to say, “Where’s the trap this time?” so he gave her his most sincere smile. “No funny stuff, I promise.”

“If you’d said scout’s honor I’d have punched you,” she responded. “Lift up.”

He shifted as her small fingers brushed lightly against the back of his thigh. He almost groaned in relief when the seat belt sprang free. “Thanks,” he said.

“No problem. I’d apologize for the cramped quarters, but—” She shrugged in mock sympathy.

Before Zach even thought about what he was doing, he lifted a hand to her cheek and leaned across the small space separating them. “It’s not the cramped quarters I object to,” he said, tracing his thumb against her cheekbone.

Zach paused, giving her a tiny window to pull away, to say no, to do anything that would bring him back to his senses and make him stop. He’d calmly, rationally decided to pursue this during the long sleepless night after that first meeting in her office. But somehow, he’d envisioned being in control while doing it.

He wasn’t. Not even close.

And she simply stared at him.

Then her lips parted, and he couldn’t wait another instant. He slid his hand to the nape of her neck and pulled her mouth to his. His first taste lingered at the tentative brush of her palm against his chest. He wanted to sink his tongue deeply into the sweet, hot recesses of her mouth; to feel, taste, and touch all of her, all at once. But restraint made it twice as good, so he dipped a little, coaxing her back into his mouth.

The first touch of her tongue on his made his uncomfortable position in her cramped front seat almost unbearable. But instead of stopping he wove his other hand
into her hair, angling her mouth so he could deepen the kiss.

His heart was pounding, his blood roaring in his ears, making him feel like he was in a free fall from outer space with no parachute or safety net to catch him before he crash-landed.

And he didn’t give a damn.

It was only the realization that this was moving too fast—and that the backseat wouldn’t hold them both—that forced him to stop.

Foreheads touching, both took a moment to allow their rapid breathing to slow. Dara was the first to shift away, and Zach let her go.

After another long moment Dara turned back to him, a small, tentative smile on her lips.

He fought the urge to reach for her again. Damn if he’d
ever
felt this way before, all shaky and uncertain, and so edgy, he could climb right out of his skin. He’d scaled jagged rocks with only his bare hands for support, skied steep mountains on a surfboard, dived off cliffs into rock-strewn waters, leapt from planes with only a triangular piece of nylon above his head.

None of it compared to this.

“I thought you said no funny stuff,” she said, the rough quality of her voice belying her attempt at humor.

Zach ran a finger over her kiss-swollen lips. They were warm and damp. Damp from him. And just knowing that something of him still clung to her, made him even harder. God he wanted her so bad, he hurt. He was even more disconcerted when she didn’t move away from his touch.