His for the Taking (16 page)

When he’d kissed her, she’d reacted with a passion he’d never experienced before. Her body wasn’t only toned, it was responsive. And strong. Like the rest of her.

‘So long Manhattan!’ Zoe cried, and Nick looked up to see they were coming out of the tunnel. She was smiling again. Knowing her, she’d decided she’d had enough serious stuff for one day.

‘You got any music in this wreck?’ she asked, pulling a tape out of the deck and glancing at it. Her smile widened into a full-fledged grin. ‘AC/DC? Ranger Giroux, you appear to rock!’

‘It keeps me awake,’ he said, and took the tape from her. He couldn’t resist touching her fingers as he did. Then he put the tape into the player and turned the volume up, loud.

Zoe whooped as soon as the thumping bassline started. With quick jabs she rolled down the window and sang, her sore throat forgotten, her pensive mood gone, her past hurts and troubles put away as she told the New York they were leaving that she and Nick were on a highway to hell.

Nick laughed, and sang along with her.

‘Roll down your window,’ Nick said from the driver’s seat.

Zoe opened her eyes. She hadn’t quite drifted off, but the steady noise of the truck’s engine and the darkness outside her window had lulled her into drowsiness. It was a long trip from New York to Maine, and they’d started pretty late in the afternoon. Nick had taken over driving somewhere in the morass of construction that was Connecticut and as they had made their way through Massachusetts and New Hampshire their conversation had faded to a comfortable silence. With her eyes closed, she’d let herself relax into the warmth of sitting next to Nick, and time had slipped away from her.

‘Where are we?’ she asked.

‘Roll down your window and you’ll find out.’

She couldn’t see anything outside; the interstate was lit up, but their surroundings were black. The sky was much darker than it ever got in New York. She rolled down her window and Nick did the same.

‘Now breathe,’ he said.

She drew in a long, deep breath. The air was as cool as spring water. Carried on it was the scent and the taste of pine. Not like what counted for pine scent in air fresheners or cleaners; it was green and fresh and alive and it made her think of vast spaces, quiet woods, age and vitality.

Nick carried that scent with him.

‘We’re in Maine,’ she said.

Nick let out his own breath and nodded. His face was lit up softly by the dash lights, emphasising his high cheekbones and straight nose, and the shadow of beard on his jaw. ‘Not far from Kittery,’ he said. He breathed in again. ‘It’s good to be home.’

Zoe sniffed in again and opened her mouth to say something smart about missing the traffic fumes, but there was a sudden bang and the truck jerked sharply to the left. She hung on hard to the armrest on the door as Nick wrestled the steering wheel, the truck swerving and squealing.

‘Blow-out,’ he muttered, and swore, but within seconds he’d gotten the truck under control and pulled it slowly onto the right shoulder.

‘You okay?’ he asked her immediately. Zoe unwrapped her hand from the armrest.

‘Fine,’ Zoe said. ‘You?’

‘Yeah.’ He turned off the ignition.

‘You think the bird’s okay?’

‘I’ll check.’

Nick took a flashlight from the glove compartment and they both got out of the truck. Nick went to the back to check out the pigeon; Zoe went around the side to inspect the damage. The night air was cold and, glancing up, Zoe saw she’d been wrong. The sky wasn’t darker than in NewYork. It was absolutely jam-packed with stars.

‘Pigeon’s fine,’ Nick called.

‘Your tyre isn’t,’ she replied. ‘It’s flatter than a pancake.’

Nick came round the side of truck and shone the flashlight down at the tyre. He swore again. She sort of liked the sound of him swearing. He swore like a guy who didn’t swear that often but when he did, he meant it.

‘It’s no problem,’ she said. ‘We can change it in a jiffy. Where’s your jack?’

‘It’s not as easy as that,’ Nick said gloomily.

‘What’s the matter—don’t you know how to change a tyre? Don’t worry, I’m a pro. Get out the spare and I’ll get started.’

‘That is the spare,’ Nick said.

Zoe put her hands on her hips. ‘The spare? As in, the only spare?’

‘Yup.’

‘What happened to your “be prepared” motto, Boy Scout?’

‘I punctured a tyre on a rock on a back road the morning before I went to Cranberry Island. I put the tyre in to be repaired and I was supposed to pick it up when I got back. But then when I got back, there was the letter from my dad, and I didn’t want to wait so I just drove down on the spare.’

‘That was stupid,’ Zoe told him.

‘I know.’

‘I might’ve done the same thing, though.’

‘That makes me feel better.’ In the darkness she could just make out a wry smile.

‘You got the number of a rescue service?’

‘That, I am prepared for.’ He pointed ahead of the truck. The headlights illuminated an emergency phone on a pillar a hundred yards or so ahead. ‘Stay a safe distance from the truck. I’ll be right back.’

Zoe watched him walking up the hard shoulder towards the phone. The headlights cast his shadow, long and broad shouldered, on the road ahead of him. They also illuminated his body perfectly. She could see the shape of the muscles of his shoulders and backside through the cotton of his T-shirt and shorts. Gorgeous man.

Strangely, she was glad he’d messed up by doing something so stupid as trying to drive nearly a thousand miles on his spare tyre. It meant he wasn’t such a Boy Scout, such a white knight. He was just a guy who made mistakes.

She went to the back of the truck and, with a grunt, hauled out the animal carrier with the pigeon inside. There would be no point in having hauled the stupid bird several hundred miles if it was going to get killed by somebody driving into the back of the stationary truck. She climbed over the guard rail and up a bit of a grassy slope, set down the cage, and sat down next to it.

Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness and there was enough light from the truck and the stars to see the pigeon through the slots in the plastic cage. It was a bird-shaped shadow, but she could catch a gleam of soft green from the feathers around its neck and she could see its face, lit up in a bar of light from the truck. It gazed back at her, its beady eye unabashed.

‘Atta boy,’ she murmured to it. ‘You’re not scared at all, are you?’

She shouldn’t be scared, either.

She thought back to the conversation they’d had driving through New York. She’d never told anybody about that time she’d run away. Her parents had gone wild trying to find her, called the police and everything the day she’d left, but when she’d called from a pay phone in Grand Central Station the next morning they’d accepted her story that she was staying with Xenia. Xenia herself had never asked, even though she’d had to endure the lecture from Zoe’s parents, too. Zoe had kept the whole thing a secret, her own private proof that whatever life threw at her, she would be okay. She could handle it.

But she’d told Nick. She’d opened herself up to him in a way she hadn’t done with anybody for a long, long time. Because she trusted him, and she hadn’t been afraid.

It felt really good.

Zoe lay back on the bank. The grass was cool and slightly damp, and felt soft on her bare legs and the back of her neck. She looked up at the millions of stars. She’d never seen so many all at once. It was as if she were on a whole new planet. The only reminder she was on Earth was the occasional noise of a car rushing past at sixty-five miles an hour.

She heard Nick walking back along the road and then she heard him approaching her on the grass. ‘We’re in luck,’ he said. ‘There’s a rescue truck that’s just finished a call close to here. They’ll be here in ten minutes to tow us to a garage in Kittery.’

‘That’s good,’ Zoe said dreamily. ‘Come here and look at these stars.’

He lay down on the grass next to her, just a few inches away. She didn’t take her eyes off the stars, but she could hear how close he was and feel the warmth of his body.

‘I didn’t think there were that many,’ Zoe said.

‘There’s less light pollution here than in New York.’ He settled himself comfortably, and she heard his soft breath of contentment. This was where Nick belonged. ‘And there’s still quite a bit of light here in southern Maine. You should go to Baxter State Park, up in Piscataquis County. On a moonless night the stars are so bright you feel as if you could reach out and touch them.’

Zoe didn’t think. She just did what she felt like doing without considering being afraid. She rolled over so that her body was lying on top of Nick’s, and kissed him.

His lips were warm. He didn’t seem surprised. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to his body, and kissed her back. Their mouths fitted together perfectly and so did their bodies and Zoe kissed him slowly and savoured every taste and texture of his mouth.

Desire flared in her, beading her nipples against his chest and sending a rush of warmth between her legs. She could feel his penis hardening underneath her. And yet she still kissed him slowly. She let her tongue touch his and let her lips sample his mouth. She wanted him. He wanted her. It was under control. She could handle it.

She separated their kiss into smaller, separate kisses, touching his top lip, his bottom lip, the corner of his mouth, dipping into his mouth, each one brief and tender. She could feel him smiling and she stopped, her face a fraction of an inch above his.

‘This is very romantic,’ he whispered to her.

She smiled back at him. ‘Nobody’s ever accused me of that bef—’

She was interrupted by the roar of an eighteen-wheeler thundering up the Turnpike past them.

Both of them laughed, and that thrust their bodies even closer together. The root of his erection rubbed hard between her legs, sending melting pleasure through her, and she gasped.

Nick stroked up her back and held her head in one large hand so his palm cradled the side of her face. ‘I want you so much, Zoe,’ he said. ‘Don’t push me away this time. Please.’

‘You two need a tow or are you havin’ too good a time?’

Zoe didn’t get off Nick, but she did look over her shoulder. A tow truck had stopped on the shoulder behind Nick’s truck, and a man in a plaid shirt and a baseball cap was leaning against it.

‘Rescue’s arrived,’ she muttered, and rolled off Nick, but she made sure that as she did she pressed her breasts and hips as tightly against him as she could. Nick groaned quietly and she dropped another swift kiss onto his lips. ‘Be patient,’ she whispered, and then stood.

‘We’ll take a tow,’ she said. ‘Mr Bright Ideas here decided that driving round-trip to New York on his spare would be fun.’

‘Ayuh, that was a bright idea, all right.’ The man adjusted his baseball cap and then his jeans. ‘Well, you climb into the cab and I’ll hitch you up. I’ll drop off your truck at Maddie’s garage in Kittery, that’s the closest place, but they won’t be open at this hour. Won’t get your tyre fixed till tomorrow mornin’.’

Nick had stood and joined her. He placed a warm hand on the small of her back, a possessive touch that made her shiver.

‘Looks like we’ll be staying in Kittery for the night,’ he said. ‘Is there a hotel you can drop us at?’

‘Oh ayuh, there’s plenty.’

‘That’s good. A hotel’s much more comfortable than the side of the road,’ he added in a low voice for Zoe’s ears only, and gave her a long look that sent another shiver through her.

‘Can’t see the stars, though,’ she replied. Her voice shook.

‘It’s not the stars I want to see.’ He touched her lips, once, briefly with his finger, an invitation and a promise, and then he joined the man.

Zoe could join them. She knew everything about cars, she knew how to hitch up a car to be towed, and she could shoot the manly crap as well as either of them. She didn’t have to wait in the cab of the truck like a helpless female.

But her blood was hot, her heart pounding, and every inch of her body was singing with anticipation and she wanted a moment to breathe. Because sex with Nicholas Giroux, if she had it, was going to be the experience of a lifetime and she wanted to calm down, slow down, get it right. Not rush in and fumble and mess it up.

She picked up the pigeon carrier, climbed into the tow truck, and rested it on her lap.
Breathe, Zoe,
she told herself. She took the pine-and motor-scented air deep into her lungs, in through her nose, out through her mouth, slowly and with discipline, as she’d trained herself to do as she exercised. And concentrated on her breathing, her body, her blood rushing through her veins. And nothing else.

Because if she really started thinking, she wouldn’t touch Nicholas Giroux again.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

T
HE HOTEL WAS
called The Lobster Trap. It didn’t seem like an auspicious name, really.

Swinging the room key from her fingers, Zoe walked towards Nick where he stood in the motel parking lot, having just paid the tow truck driver. He had his backpack on his back, and Zoe’s bag slung over one shoulder. When he saw her approach he bent to pick up the pigeon carrier case, too, but Zoe beat him to it.

‘Where are we sleeping?’ he asked cheerfully.

Zoe didn’t think his choice of words was all that accurate. After their kiss, they’d spent half an hour together in the cramped space of the tow truck’s cab. Her leg had pressed against his from hip to calf and even though he hadn’t laid a hand on her she’d been aware of every breath he’d taken, every small movement of his body as the truck had juddered over the road.

He’d spent most of the journey chatting with the driver about the weather, the roads, the fact that they had a New York City pigeon as a passenger. Zoe had been able to get a couple of cracks in—that was until she’d let herself turn her face towards Nick and their eyes had met.

Even in the dark cab, she’d been able to see what he’d been thinking about. The fact that they were going to a hotel to make love with each other. And at the thought such a huge wave of desire had swept through her body that she hadn’t trusted herself to speak again, for fear it would either come out as a squeak or a series of undignified horny gasps.