A Family to Call Her Own. Irene Hannon
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so she took a deep breath and turned to face him. The last time he’d gazed at her his eyes had been glazed, unfocused and dull with pain. Now they were clear and alert and warm. And disturbing. Her pulse went into overdrive.
Zach held out his hand, and short of being rude, she had no choice but to place hers in his firm grasp. “It’s nice to meet you, Rebecca.” He had a pleasant voice, deep and mellow, with just a touch of huskiness.
“It’s nice to meet you, too.” She tried to think of something else to say, anything, but her mind suddenly went blank. All she could do was stare into his compelling brown eyes.
Zach was equally captivated by the hazel eyes locked on his. Rebecca Matthews was a beautiful woman, with classic high cheekbones accentuated by the French twist hairstyle of her russet-colored hair. Beautiful and, surprisingly, familiar. He somehow sensed that their paths had crossed before. He had a good memory for names and faces—a skill that was essential in his business—and it rarely failed him. But he came up empty on the woman across from him. Although how he could forget someone who looked like Rebecca Matthews was beyond him.
As the seconds lengthened, Zach realized that they were beginning to draw curious glances, and he reluctantly released her delicate hand with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry…I don’t mean to stare, but…have we met before?” he asked, his eyes probing, quizzical.
Rebecca debated her answer. Originally she’d planned to keep her role in the stranger’s rescue a secret because he was a stranger. But now that she knew he was a friend of Mark’s, remaining anonymous was less important. She’d known Mark for several years, and if this man was a friend of his, he was okay.
She smiled faintly, and a becoming flush tinted her cheeks. “Sort of. Although given the circumstances I’m not surprised you’re having a hard time placing me. Between the fog and the accident, I’m amazed you remember anything.”
Zach stared at her, the puzzlement in his eyes rapidly giving way to comprehension. “You mean…it was you on the road Thursday night? You were the one who stopped to help and drove me to the hospital?” he asked incredulously.
She nodded and glanced away, reaching for her coffee cup. “Yes.”
Mark stared at Rebecca, then at Zach. “Are you telling me that Rebecca is the angel of mercy you’ve been raving about?”
Rebecca’s startled gaze flew to Zach’s, and he felt his neck redden. But before he could speak, Mark leaned over to examine Rebecca’s chin.
“Wow!” he exclaimed. “I just noticed the bruise! What happened? It looks like somebody slugged you.”
Rebecca’s gaze flickered to Zach, then skittered away. “It was an accident,” she said with a shrug, dismissing his question.
There was a moment of silence, and when Zach spoke his voice was troubled. “Why do I have a feeling I’m responsible for that?” he said slowly.
Rebecca turned to find him frowning as he studied the purple bruise shading the delicate line of her jaw. She shrugged again, flushing in embarrassment. “It was an accident,” she repeated. “You were hurt. You lost your balance, and I was in the way.”
He expelled a long breath and ran his fingers through his hair. “I think I owe you a very big thank-you—and a sincere apology,” he said quietly, his intense eyes holding hers captive.
Rebecca dismissed his thanks with a shrug. “I’m glad I could help. And this is nothing,” she assured him, gesturing vaguely toward her jaw. “So how are you?” she inquired, feeling increasingly self-conscious under Zach’s speculative gaze.
“Doing better. Thanks.”
“Twelve stitches and a concussion,” Mark elaborated. “Go ahead, Zach. Sit down,” he suggested, indicating the stool next to Rebecca.
Zach hesitated, sensing that for some reason his presence was disruptive to the woman beside him, but she smiled politely.
“Please do,” she seconded. “I have to leave, anyway.” She drained her cup in one long gulp and slid to the ground. “I hope you recover quickly,” she said, forcing herself to meet his magnetic eyes.
“Thanks.” He grinned disarmingly, once more extending his hand, and again she was left with no choice but to take it. As he enfolded her slender fingers in his firm grip, her heart began to bang painfully against her chest, so strongly she was almost afraid he would be able to feel it through the vibrating tips of her fingers. His eyes held hers—curious, questioning, warm…and interested. Which did nothing to slow her metabolism.
“Thanks again for Thursday night.” His voice was still shaded by that appealing, husky timbre. “I’m not sure what would have happened if you hadn’t come along. I’m just sorry about that.” His gaze flickered down to her jaw, and he started to reach up as if to touch the bruise. Rebecca’s breath caught in her throat and her heart stopped, but suddenly he dropped his hand, shoving it into the pocket of his jeans instead. Rebecca’s pulse kicked back in, then raced on.
“Anyway, I just want you to know that I don’t usually go around hitting women,” he assured her, his voice even more husky than before.
She cleared her throat, hoping her own voice wouldn’t desert her. “I’m sure you don’t. I’m just glad you’re okay.” Carefully she withdrew her hand, and with an effort she tore her gaze from his to look at Mark. “See you later.”
“You bet.”
“Ben, thanks for the coffee.”
“Anytime.”
And then she fled.
Zach planted his hands on his hips and watched her leave, a slight frown marring his brow. Clearly she’d wanted to escape from his presence as quickly as possible. But why? It wasn’t that she was unfriendly. She just seemed…well, skittish. He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. He couldn’t recall ever meeting anyone quite like Rebecca Matthews. She was poised and polished, yet she seemed somehow…untouched. Vulnerable. Fragile. Without hard edges or pretense. She radiated an almost innate goodness, an old-fashioned air of shy sweetness. Those weren’t qualities he’d run into often, and he was intrigued—and captivated.
He turned thoughtfully and straddled the stool next to Mark, who was watching him with amused interest.
“Forget it, pal,” Mark warned with a grin.
“Forget what?” Zach asked coolly, reaching for the mug of coffee Ben placed on the counter.
Mark chuckled. “I’ve seen that look before. Had it once myself. Just don’t get your hopes up. Rebecca’s great—but she has no interest in romance.”
“Are you speaking from personal experience?”
“Of course! Do you think a single woman who looks like her could come to a small town like this and not be pursued by every eligible man in the county? But she wasn’t interested. Period. In anyone. So I didn’t take it personally. We all had to settle for being just friends.”
“Hmm.”
“‘Hmm’ what?”
“‘Hmm’ as in, that’s interesting but I’m not in the market, anyway.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Right,” Zach repeated firmly. “As my boss told me, I need some time to decompress.”
Mark grinned. “I can think of worse ways.”
Zach chuckled. “Speaking of which, when do I get to meet your elusive fiancée?”
Mark smiled. “How about dinner tomorrow night?”
“Sounds great.”
“Listen, do you mind if I run next door for a minute while you finish your coffee? Then I’ll give you the ten-cent tour.”
“No