every intention of tamping down and ignoring. Yes, he was prepared to kill or die in the course of his job on any given day, but that was simply cold hard reality. His career. His life. T his, with Missy, felt more personal. At the moment, with her pressed against him, he couldn’t seem to dig down deep enough to find that efficient impersonal machine he’d become from a decade of doing what he did. Instead, he felt warm, soft, human. He didn’t like it. The song ended and another began. Missy lifted her head from his chest and looked up at him with heavily lidded eyes. Eyes he needed to steer clear of if he was going to keep his head on straight. Time to get this date back on track. The track Zane had decided it should be on. They’d eat. He’d send her home, with her parents if she couldn’t drive, then he’d go back to the house and deal with his father. That would help Zane get his damn act together. “We should sit back down and order dinner.” Zane needed to get some food in Missy’s stomach. Make sure she was good and sober. Maybe then she’d look less tempting, because if she sent one more look in his direction like that last one, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to resist her.
CHAPTER 9 Missy sighed as Zane asked her the same question for the second time in less than ten minutes. “I swear I can drive.” “Are you sure?” He eyed her with concern as they stood outside beneath the electric glow of the exterior lights in front of the clubhouse. “Yes , I’m sure.” Zane drew in a deep breath, and her gaze dropped to watch his chest rise and fall beneath the crisp, cotton button-down shirt he’d changed into for dinner. He shook his head. “I’m not. I wish you would have gone home with your parents and left your car here.” She hadn’t wanted to go home with her parents and leave her car there because that would have meant she was also leaving Zane there, and she wasn’t quite ready for this night to end. Two martinis over the course of more than two hours and a huge meal—she should be able to drive the couple of miles to her house. But that was the last thing she wanted to do with her insides feeling all warm and squishy from the alcohol and Zane’s proximity. “If you’re that concerned, perhaps you should drive me home.” Missy rested her hands on his chest. Damn. She could feel how big and solid his muscles were clear through the shirt. He dropped his gaze to where her palms pressed against him, his nostrils flaring as he drew in a deep breath. He nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m going to have to do.” He didn’t sound very enthusiastic. She drew her brows low in a frown. “Is it a problem?” Zane let out a laugh and shook his head. “It shouldn’t be a problem, no.” He’d said the words as if he hadn’t meant them. “Zane, if you have somewhere you need to be—” “No, I don’t have anywh ere I need to be. Is your car all locked up?” He glanced at her vehicle. They’d stayed so long the valet had left for the night, but he’d parked her car close to the clubhouse and had brought the keys in to her in the dining room. Missy aimed her keys at the car and clicked. The vehicle’s lights flashed and the horn let out a single honk, proving the doors were locked. “Yes.” “Then come on.” She didn’t like this change in him. He’d been attentive all night. His eyes had barely left her. His attention had never wavered. Now, he was treating her like she was thirteen again and he’d gotten stuck driving her home. That had actually happened once, and she’d felt the same way as she did now. Like she was a burden to Zane. “No. I can drive myself—” “Dammit, Missy. Stop. I’m driving you.” To insure that, Zane reached out and snatched the keys she still held in her hand. “But you don’t have to.” “But I want to.” He smirked down at her as he steered her toward the side lot where he’d parked his car. “Button up your