Uninhibited. Candace Schuler

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СКАЧАТЬ I’m ambitious, all right.” Zoe slanted another quick glance at Reed. The muscles in his jaw were bulging now, as if he’d gone beyond clenching his teeth to grinding them. Zoe felt a surge of pure adrenaline and went in for the kill. “Extremely ambitious.” She leaned over slightly, reaching out to clasp one of Moira’s hands in both of hers. “Why, with all your lovely money behind me there’s no telling what I can—” She broke off, startled, as Reed’s long fingers wrapped themselves around her biceps. She dropped Moira’s hand as he pulled her upright with something very close to a jerk.

      “We can talk about what you can or can not do with all Gran’s lovely money at some other time,” Reed said quietly, through his teeth.

      Zoe’s protest was automatic. “But I haven’t fin—”

      “I hate to rush you, but I’m running late, Miss Moon.” He glanced pointedly at his watch, turning his wrist without letting go of her. “If you want a lift home, we’ll have to leave right now.”

      “Late for what? Oh. Your rugby practice,” she said, realizing belatedly that her hostess’s great-grandson was actually teetering on the edge of losing his cool. He’d never have laid hands on her, otherwise. “Well, don’t worry about me, then.” She gave him a bright, saccharine smile meant to push him clean over the precipice. “I can take the T home when I’m ready to go.” She shrugged dismissively, trying to dislodge his hand. “Moira and I have lots more to discuss and—”

      His fingers flexed on her arm. “I really must insist, Miss Moon.”

      “No, thank you. I appreciate the gesture but—”

      “I didn’t want to mention it, but I’m afraid Gran is getting tired.” The look he turned on Moira was one of filial concern. “Aren’t you, Gran?”

      “Nonsense. I’m not the least—” Moira began.

      “She’ll never admit it, of course,” Reed continued smoothly, talking over his great-grandmother’s protest, “but it’s been a long afternoon for her. She usually takes a nap right after tea, and we’re keeping her from it.” He lowered his voice, putting his lips very near Zoe’s ear as if to keep Moira from overhearing. “She is ninety-two, you know.”

      “Oh. Oh, yes. Of course. How thoughtless of me.” Guilt pierced Zoe’s tender heart, instantly chasing away all thought of goading Reed. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. You’ve been so kind to me,” she said to Moira, “and here I am, keeping you up when you should be resting. Just let me grab my purse and—”

      “Got it.” Reed bent down, scooped the tapestry bag off the floor by its braided leather straps with his free hand and swung it toward her.

      Zoe grabbed at it awkwardly, fumbling to hold on to it without upending the precariously gaping shopping bag hanging from her arm. She felt her shawl begin to slip, and hunched her shoulder, trying to boost it back into place.

      “Dinner here after practice?” Reed said to his great-grandmother as Zoe grappled with her belongings.

      “Dinner? Well, actually, I—”

      Reed stared down his nose at her and waited.

      “Yes, of course, dear. Dinner here,” Moira agreed demurely. “If you like.”

      “I like.” He bent and pressed a quick kiss on her cheek. “I’ll be back around eight-thirty, if that’s all right with you?”

      Moira nodded. “Eight-thirty will be fine.”

      “Good.” He nodded, once. “That’s settled, then.” His hand tightened on Zoe’s arm. “Miss Moon?”

      Zoe braced herself against the pressure. “Thank you for a lovely tea, Moira. I really enjoyed it.”

      “So did I, dear,” Moira said. “Immensely. I’ll call you about the market research party early next week and we can discuss the details at more length.”

      Reed mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “Over my dead body” under his breath.

      “What was that, dear?” Moira asked. “I didn’t quite hear you.”

      “I said, I’ll take care of all the details.” He looked down at Zoe, smiling at her through gritted teeth. “Ready, now?”

      Without waiting for either assent or refusal, he propelled her into motion, steering her around the piecrust table and across the Aubusson. It was either stumble along beside him as best she could or fall flat on her face and let him drag her. Zoe stumbled along, the shopping bag dangling from her arm, her purse clutched to her chest, her soft, knitted shawl slipping farther and farther off her shoulder. She had to quickstep to keep up with his long-legged, no-nonsense stride as he headed toward the tall double doors. The doors opened outward just as they reached them, and Eddie stepped back, bowing them into the foyer with a nod of his head.

      “Sir?” he said in the same formal, sonorous tone he had used before. The word and the tone contrasted incongruously with the bright red shorts and red-and-yellow color-block rugby shirt he was wearing. No one paid any attention to the fact that he must have been listening at the keyhole to have opened the doors so promptly.

      “Grab my things, please, Eddie,” Reed said he marched across the marble foyer, towing Zoe in his wake. She was nearly on tiptoes now, and the shawl had slipped entirely off of one shoulder and was dragging on the floor. “I’m running late.”

      Eddie already had Reed’s things laid out in readiness, the overcoat draped across the top of a tufted velvet Victorian bench, the briefcase and gym bag side by side on the floor in front of it. He grabbed them up along with his own gym bag and fell in step behind the two scurrying figures.

      “I take it you’re not going to change here as usual?” he asked pleasantly, as if the sight of his employer’s great-grandson quickstepping a guest out of the house wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

      “No,” Reed said shortly. “No time. We have to drop Miss Moon off at her apartment on our way.” He yanked the front door open with his free hand before Eddie could maneuver around to do it for him. “I’ll change at Magazine Beach.”

      I really ought to let him drive me home, Zoe thought vindictively as he all but dragged her over the threshold and out onto the front steps. Considering his final destination, a detour to the North End during rush hour traffic would make him really late. But it would make Eddie late, too, and Eddie wasn’t the one giving her the bum’s rush. And besides, she wasn’t in the mood to go anywhere with Mr. Stuffed Shirt!

      “You don’t have to drop Miss Moon at her apartment,” she said between her teeth, digging in her heels and rearing back as he reached for the door handle of the sleek black Jaguar XJ6 parked—wouldn’t you just know it!—at the curb directly in front of the house. “You don’t have to drop Miss Moon anywhere, because Miss Moon will take the T. Now let go of my arm!”

      She yanked her arm out of his grasp and turned to face him, there on the sidewalk in front of his great-grandmother’s Beacon Hill mansion.

      “Boy, I sure don’t know what your problem is, mister.” Huffily, head down, Zoe wrestled with the handles of both shopping bag and purse, settling them securely over her arm. “And I don’t particularly care.” She hitched her shawl СКАЧАТЬ