The car ride had been tomb-silent. Joanne had almost believed Zane simply wanted to play chauffeur.
So what was he doing at her door now?
She kept the barrier between them, voice wary. "What now?"
Zane's command brooked no argument. "Open the door. This can't wait."
"We said everything already."
"You really want to shout through solid wood?"
Joanne hesitated. If she didn't relent, he'd plant himself there indefinitely. With a frustrated huff, she swung the door open—but stepped out first, blocking his path before slamming it shut.
"Spit it out." Her arms formed a defensive cross.
Zane didn't miss a beat, as if he'd anticipated her move. "Getting your family overseas treatment wasn't some chess move. No hidden strings, no emotional blackmail. I just couldn't watch you shoulder this
