Summer Lovin'

Chapter Nine

TO ZOE'S SURPRISE, they spent the next few days having a lot of fun. Ryan took them to Faneuil Hall, on the Duck Tour, and they hit many historical landmarks. They had dinner at Legal Seafoods one night and at Union Oyster Bar the next, and Davio's, an Italian restaurant in the North End on the third evening.

Now they found themselves at Ryan's office where he proudly showed off the brownstone where he and his partners worked. He'd wanted Sam to meet his associates and the rest of the staff, and perhaps because she was still experiencing twinges of gratitude over his saving Ima, Sam went without argument. For Zoe, it was a chance to see Ryan in his own environment without his family pulling at him and without hers changing him.

Zoe waited until Sam headed off to get something to eat with Ryan's secretary before she inclined her head toward his office, indicating she wanted to talk to him alone.

He gestured for her to go on in and he followed, shutting the door behind them. "Like it?" he asked.

She glanced around at the typical attorney's surroundings, dark wood desk, bookshelves, diplomas and a row of windows with a view of the cloudless blue sky. Clearly, Ryan did well for himself and he cared about what she thought.

"It's perfect," she said, stepping toward the plate-glass windows.

"Meaning?"

She sensed him come up behind her, his body heat warmer than that of the sun shining through the glass. Ignoring her awareness of him in his apartment was getting more and more difficult, especially since her bedroom shared a wall with his. She knew when he woke up and when he went to sleep- and when he tossed and turned as fitfully as she.

She turned now to find him closer than she'd realized and she stepped back toward the window. He came forward.

Zoe sucked in a breath and exhaled slowly. "We need to talk," she told him.

"We damn well do." He reached up and loosened his tie.

The effect of him looking so relaxed and slightly rumpled in his power suit was devastating to her senses. Her knees shook as though she was a school-girl on her first date.

"I need to hold you or I'm going to go insane." His deep gaze burned into hers. "I have to taste you." His hands came to rest on the window above her shoulders, as he dipped his head closer. His determined expression told her he wasn't about to be deterred.

She trembled, wanting the same things. "That's not what I wanted to talk about," she managed to say, despite being breathless with anticipation.

He lowered his head, his forehead touching hers. "What is it?" He sounded resigned to listening first and kissing second.

Disappointment filled her nonpractical side, while her rational side applauded her self-restraint. "This is our fourth day here and you haven't mentioned taking Sam to see your family at all."

She voiced the concern that enveloped her constantly. How would his relatives treat the teenager who was just coming to trust Ryan a little bit more each day?

Zoe refused to factor her own feelings into meeting his family, telling herself that what they thought of her didn't matter. Yet she couldn't deny that if and when they were introduced, she wanted smoother sailing than she'd had with Uncle Russ. The thought of his parents judging and finding her lacking turned her stomach, because despite everything, she cared how it might affect what Ryan thought of her.

"We're going to my parents' house for dinner tonight," he said, finally.

"Let me guess. You were going to spring it on us at the last minute." She tried for a teasing tone, but Ryan had tensed up and he wasn't relaxing or laughing at her joke.

"Do you blame me?" he asked instead. "Sam doesn't need another excuse to run away and as for you- "

"Afraid I'll embarrass you in front of your parents?" Again she tried for a laugh, but she also averted her gaze, not wanting him to see how serious her question actually was.

Ryan knew Zoe well enough by now to get when she was feeling vulnerable and, despite the jokes, the idea of meeting his family obviously scared her. Hell, there were times his parents scared him, too.

He placed his hand beneath her chin and lifted her gaze. "They will adore you," he said, knowing in his heart every word was a lie.

They'd find her short skirts and high heels as offensive as they'd found his sister's tube tops and ripped denim shorts way back when. Hell, Uncle Russ had already expressed his shock after meeting Zoe and catching the obvious undercurrents between them. Though Russ was a ladies' man and he dated all types, it didn't matter since he was determined never to settle down.

But Ryan was different. His uncle knew that Ryan wanted to have the kind of family he'd lacked growing up. Unfortunately, for all that Uncle Russ supported Ryan, he also had enough of the Baldwin genes to want Ryan to find the proper wife to carry on the Baldwin name. "Proper" meaning correct bloodlines, manners and breeding.

"Ryan?" Zoe's voice startled him. "Where'd you go?" she asked of the mental break he'd just taken.

He met her wide-eyed gaze and refused to acknowledge aloud that Zoe Costas and her con-artist, day-spa, pig-owning family didn't fit with the Baldwin family lineage- something Ryan hadn't wanted to think about or deal with during his time in New Jersey. He'd blocked out everything he could about home and focused on nothing but getting to know Sam. And his growing feelings for Zoe.

"I was just thinking about this." He leaned forward and captured her lips in a kiss. A hot, devouring kiss filled with all the desire that had kept him awake nights and the yearning he experienced each time he looked at her.

Apparently she felt the same way and missed him just as much because she wound her arms around his neck, pulled him close, and thrust her tongue inside his mouth in a clear act of desire and possession.

He groaned and pulled her tightly against him, his groin thrusting against the barrier of his pants, eager to escape confinement and sink deep inside her moist heat. It'd been too damn long, he thought. Her hips swayed from side to side, seeking more intimate contact, and he was happy to oblige. He widened his stance and let his aching member settle between her legs so they could grind against each other, mimicking the act of making love as best they could.

Only the window seemed to support them now. Zoe's breath came faster and she breathed hot and heavy in his ear. He couldn't remember any woman who made him want so much. Need so much. And wish to give back as generously as she gave to him. In the back of his mind, he understood that more than his body was engaged with Zoe and he'd have to deal with that soon.

But first he'd handle the woman writhing against him, almost ready to come apart in his arms. He was damn close himself and every ounce of self-control went into keeping himself in check while bringing her closer and closer to what he hoped would be a mind-blowing orgasm.

He'd already caught her rhythm with his hips and pelvis and it wasn't long before he thrust upward one last time and she shook, groaned and came, calling out his name.

Only when she finally caught her breath did he step back. He took in her flushed cheeks and the way she attempted to straighten her clothing and grinned.

"I'm sure this isn't appropriate behavior for a partner," she said wryly.

He raised an eyebrow. "Who knows? There is a reason we partners have private bathrooms in our offices, you know." He pointed to the door in the back corner of the room.

She blushed and in a very un-Zoelike way, ran to the restroom to pull herself together. Still, she had a point. He'd never brought a woman he was seeing to his office, let alone made one come behind the closed door.

Shaking his head at how different he was around Zoe, he adjusted himself, and while he waited for his most obvious reaction to Zoe to subside, he seated himself behind his desk.

Zoe stepped out of the bathroom at the same time Sam came barging into the office, barreling through like a tornado.

"Shouldn't you knock before you just run into Ryan's office?" Zoe asked. "What if he'd been having an important phone call?"

Zoe's gaze never met his, but he noticed her non-Mediterranean blush remained.

"Yeah, well this is important." Sam paused at the foot of his desk, obviously unnerved and out of breath.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm being followed," Sam said.

Ryan sat up quickly in his seat while Zoe grabbed for Sam's hand. "What do you mean?"

He had no doubt they were both thinking about the two incidents in New Jersey. Could this be a third?

"The child has an active imagination, Mr. Baldwin," Ryan's secretary, Nadine, an attractive brunette, said from where she stood in the doorway. "We went to Burger King and she kept looking over her shoulder, sure someone was behind us."

"But you didn't see anyone?" Ryan asked.

"Not till I went to the bathroom," Sam said. "When I came out, he was standing outside the men's room right opposite me."

Nadine's mouth dropped open. "I had no idea."

"Did he touch you? Try to grab you?" Zoe asked.

Sam shook her head. "He didn't have the chance. A woman was walking out with her kids and I latched on to the little one's hand and pretended I was with them. Then as soon as we were out of the hallway, I ran to the table."

"I didn't know. She just said she wanted to leave and only mentioned being followed in a general sense." Nadine glanced down. "I let her go alone," she admitted. "Sam said it would be okay. I don't have kids. I didn't realize."

Ryan nodded. "It's okay, Nadine." Hell, he didn't know how to handle a teenager yet, either. Both he and Zoe had let her go to the rest stop bathroom alone. "Don't worry about a thing," he told the other woman. "Go relax and I'll take it from here."

She nodded. "Thank you." She left them alone and shut the door behind her.

"What's going on?" Zoe asked. "Was it the same man who broke into the house back home?"

Sam nodded. "I think so. He had the same dark hair and his face was familiar. It can't be my imagination," she insisted. "And the whole time we were walking down the street, it felt like someone was watching me."

Ryan exhaled a sharp breath. "You were scared, I bet."

"Which is completely understandable considering all you've been through lately," Zoe added, exchanging a worried glance with him.

"We'll call Quinn and see how the investigation's progressing. In the meantime, how about we go back home for a while before dinner?" he asked, changing the subject.

Sam nodded. "Good idea. What's on the menu tonight? I was thinking maybe Chinese food."

"Actually…" Ryan began, then glanced at Zoe for help. After today's incident, he was sure Sam was even more fragile, although she'd never show it. After all the progress he'd made with her over the last few days, his next announcement could bring back the Arctic chill.

"I asked Ryan if we could meet his family tonight," Zoe said, unexpectedly taking the heat off him.

Sam narrowed her gaze. "How could you do something like that? I don't want to meet his stinking parents!"

"Samantha!" Zoe said, clearly appalled.

"Well I don't. They hated my mother. I remember her telling me we only had each other because they didn't want her around. So why would you want to go there?" Her voice rose with all the anger and fear of a child who'd lost the mother she loved.

By meeting two people who might paint a negative picture of her mother, Sam obviously feared those good memories being erased and her mother being taken from her again in a different way than before.

Ryan stood and walked out from behind the desk. As grateful as he was that Zoe would put herself in Sam's line of fire to protect him, he couldn't let her shoulder this burden.

"Zoe isn't the one who asked for this dinner. I did. It's time you meet your family."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Don't go defending her. She probably figures that she can dump me in that big old mausoleum I saw pictures of and go back home without me."

The tears in Sam's eyes and quiver in her voice excused anything she said to him, Ryan thought. Still Zoe deserved better. "Zoe and her family took you in when you had no one. They've treated you like you were one of them."

Sam sniffed and turned away so she could wipe her arm across her face. "So?"

"So she deserves an apology now."

Sam hiccupped and then she ran straight into Zoe's arms, shaking and sobbing, her muffled words tearing his heart in two. "I love you. I want to be with you and Elena and Nicholas and Ari and…" She rhymed off the names of the Costas clan while Zoe stroked her long hair hanging down her back.

"I love you, too," she said to Sam. But her eyes were on Ryan, both of them painfully aware that Zoe couldn't offer Sam the reassurance she wanted most. She couldn't promise that Sam could go back to the house she called home. Not as long as Ryan was in the picture, wanting something from this child, too.

They talked in hushed tones. Zoe handed Sam a tissue and helped her pat her cheeks and dry her tears, which had quickly turned embarrassing to the teenager.

Watching Zoe comfort Sam, Ryan's chest squeezed tight and he had trouble catching his breath. The realization hit him out of the blue. Not only was he fascinated with this woman, but he was falling for her, too. Enough that he needed time to learn even more about the raven-haired woman whose life he had turned upside down.

ZOE CLOSED HERSELF in her guest room at Ryan's and called Quinn as soon as they returned home. He cursed and muttered a few choice words about his own stupidity for not considering the possibility that whoever seemed to be after Sam would follow them to Boston. Until now, the notion that the guy was after Sam had been pure conjecture. He could have been after something in the house. Now it seemed clear he was specifically after Sam. Unless of course, he was looking to scare or punish the family and was using Sam to accomplish his goal. Until they caught the guy, they were in the dark as to his motives or what he actually wanted.

Zoe shivered. Quinn promised to call a friend of his to arrange covert protection for Sam while they were in town.

In the afternoon, she and Sam watched television, relaxing together and avoiding the topic of what had occurred earlier in the day.

Later that evening, they dressed and headed to Ryan's parents' home where Zoe and Sam suffered through stiff hellos and predinner drinks. She took in the mausoleum in which he'd grown up and realized the difference between her parents' small JerseyShore home and this mansion couldn't be more extreme. Small versus big. Warm versus cold. She shuddered, grateful they'd finally ended up in the dining room for dinner because it meant the evening was progressing, however slowly.

Sam had been quiet during the introductions and Zoe had stayed by her side, offering silent security. Now she discovered that dinner at the Baldwins' was a formal affair, complete with too many plates, forks, knives and spoons for Zoe to handle, never mind a young girl like Sam. Zoe wondered if the place settings were so intricate on purpose, to test Zoe's breeding and Sam's place within this family. She chided herself for thinking the worst and plastered a smile on her face for Sam's sake.

"Zoe's an unusual name," Vivian, Ryan's mother said.

Zoe waited for the help to serve their salads before replying. "It's Greek," she explained.

"Her sister's name is Ariana," Uncle Russ said, surprising Zoe.

That he remembered her sister's name was a shock. A sign that he'd been interested enough to take note of it.

"That's right," she said, forcing a smile. For Ryan's sake she wanted to give the man a chance.

"Which fork do I use?" Sam whispered.

In reply, Zoe picked up her outside utensil on the left and Sam followed suit.

"I guess your family doesn't dine together often?" his mother continued.

"We eat as a family every night," Sam chimed in. "Elena makes the best mousse cocka in the world."

"Heavens!" Ryan's grandmother, who sat at the head of the table, turned pale beneath her heavily caked foundation.

Ryan coughed and Zoe tried not to laugh. "She means moussaka," Zoe said. "If you saw the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding, you'd understand the joke."

"Well I'd prefer we don't speak that way at the table." Ryan's mother shot Sam a stern glare.

"Sam's got a great sense of humor. Don't you, Sam?" Ryan defended his niece for the umpteenth time tonight, regardless of her outrageous words or shocking behavior, Zoe thought approvingly.

Unfortunately, each time he sided with Sam against his family, Zoe fell a little harder for the man.

Sam grinned. "I sure do. Bet I can tell you where you got them shoes," she said, falling back on the old boardwalk joke.

Everyone around the table looked at one another with blank expressions, except for Ryan's grandmother who frowned and mumbled something about the child's deplorable grammar.

"I give up," Uncle Russ said.

Zoe sensed he sought to make Sam more comfortable and she silently applauded his attempt.

"Where'd I get my shoes?" Russ prodded Sam.

"You got 'em on your feet!" Sam laughed and slammed her hand on the table for emphasis, knocking over Zoe's glass of red wine by mistake.

Zoe jumped up to avoid being soaked by the liquid, but the white tailored blouse she wore had already taken the worst of the spill.

"Oh jeez!" Sam grabbed for her napkin and helping Zoe, they began to blot the mess.

Suddenly Ryan's grandmother yelled at them both. "Stop!"

They paused.

"Those napkins were stitched by my mother and aren't meant to be used as dishrags."

"But they're napkins," Sam said. She looked at Ryan, who also stood. He surveyed the table and the situation, his cheeks turning a ruddy color.

"Then pardon me, ma'am, but why put them on a table where there's food, drink, and their designated use is for cleaning?" Zoe asked with the same mock sweetness she'd been treated to all evening.

"Clearly we're going to have to teach the young lady table manners if she's going to fit in." Ryan's mother picked up a bell Zoe hadn't noticed before and rang for the help to clean up.

Zoe clenched her jaw. "I wonder what good table manners will do her in a house when all other form of manners are missing."

Ryan placed a hand on her shoulder. "Relax," he said softly.

She couldn't begin to know how after all she'd endured.

"I'll handle this," he promised both with his words and his touch.

"Ryan, there's no need to handle anything. I understand Samantha hasn't been raised in the best of homes, so rest assured we'll cut her some slack," his mother said.

Zoe's temper flared. "How dare you insult my family and my home- "

Ryan's easy touch turned harsher, cutting her off. "This was a mistake." He strode over to Sam and Zoe. "I wanted you to meet each other," he said, facing the table. "You've done that. Now we're leaving."

His dark eyes flashed angry sparks. He was obviously pained with emotions Zoe had never seen in him before.

Without realizing her intent, she reached up and covered his hand with her own, offering him the only support she could.

As they turned to leave, Uncle Russ spoke. "Wait. This situation has been difficult on all of us, can we at least agree on that?"

"He's got a point," Ryan's father said.

The older women, Ryan's mother and grandmother, nodded their agreement.

"Zoe?" Uncle Russ asked.

She pivoted, met the older man's gaze and forced herself to nod as well.

"Samantha?"

"It bites," she muttered, only to receive an elbow on either side from both Zoe and Ryan.

"The kid does have a point, albeit a colorful one," Uncle Russ conceded with a smile. He gestured to their empty chairs.

For the sake of Ryan's relationship with his family, Zoe decided to follow Uncle Russ's lead, and grabbing Sam's hand, she sat back down.

"I think we need to start over," Uncle Russ said, his pointed gaze settling on his nephew. "Tonight we get through this meal and as a thank-you, tomorrow we do something Samantha would enjoy more."

Although Zoe hadn't liked Russ upon meeting him, she admitted that it was because she'd feared his effect on his nephew. Instead, he'd proven to be an unlikely ally and she admired how he pulled the family together, forcing her to reassess her opinion of the man. Besides if Ryan liked him, Zoe was determined to give him a chance.

"You always were the voice of reason, Russ." Ryan's elderly grandmother smiled. "Ryan, please sit."

Ryan stiffly and warily took his seat.

While they had been arguing, Zoe realized, the help had cleaned up the mess and replaced everything like new.

"So, Samantha, that's an interesting necklace you're wearing. Care to tell us about it?" Uncle Russ strove for a nonthreatening topic and Zoe was grateful.

"It was my mom's," Sam said, her fingers playing with the keys that always dangled around her neck.

"Why, I don't think Faith would wear something so- "

Ryan coughed loudly, clearly warning his mother to tread lightly or they were leaving for good this time.

The other woman flushed and said, "I meant, I don't remember Faith owning those."

Sam shrugged. "It's all they let me keep of hers when I went to my first foster family." She glanced down, picked up the proper fork, and began to eat her salad.

The rest of the family did the same. Somehow disaster had been averted for tonight, but Zoe's stomach was in complete knots when it came to the notion of Sam coping with these people on a daily basis.

She glanced at Ryan's strong profile, the mask behind which he hid his pain. Zoe knew he'd placed unspoken hope in his parents' ability to come around and they'd disappointed him. Meanwhile she'd placed no faith in Ryan's ability to stand up to his parents. If he knew that, he'd be disappointed in her, as well. Heaven knew she was disappointed in herself. She shouldn't have needed to see evidence of where his loyalties would lie.

Ryan had proven himself tonight and the thought ought to give Zoe pure joy. Instead she was forced to acknowledge that it brought her and her family closer than ever to losing Sam for good.