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Then Came You ; Written with Love

Page 21

by Kianna Alexander


  “When I refused to forgive him, he had the audacity to blame me for his infidelity.”

  Zahra’s situation mirrored his own with Selene. At least Zahra’s ex hadn’t sold her out to the tabloids, exposing intimate and personal details about their relationship.

  “So, now you know all my sordid details. What happened between you and your ex?”

  Until this moment, he hadn’t considered the door he’d be opening with his inquiry. Zahra walked right through it.

  “Similar to your situation. I learned she was cheating.” He neglected to mention the fact that he’d walked in on them in the act.

  Zahra’s brows furrowed, signaling possibly confusion. Was she recalling the many gossip blogs’ accounts that had painted him as the unfaithful one? With his past, no question she’d believed them like so many others had.

  “There were always circulating rumors, but I never cheated on her,” he said. “Not once.”

  “There were images of you in a threesome,” she said matter-of-factly.

  That damn photo again. “Selene initiated that encounter and was a part of it.” The image had been so distorted, he could have claimed it wasn’t him, but with change comes opting for the truth, rather than maintaining lies.

  “Who initiated it is irrelevant. You brought another woman into your bed, Gregor. Regardless if your girlfriend was there or not, sanctioned it or not, it’s still cheating.” Zahra stood and collected their dirty dishes. “God, you athletes and your reckless and dangerous lifestyles.”

  Her reaction stumped him for a moment. Was she angry? He doubted it would matter if he told her that the incident happened when he and Selene first started dating and hadn’t happened since? Or the fact that, while he’d willingly participated, afterward he’d told Selene he was done with that kind of thing, that he only wanted their relationship to include the two of them, no one else. And why should he have to explain himself to her anyway?

  Alongside Zahra, he cleared the table. “It’s easy for people to judge when they’re on the outside looking in.”

  “When you leave the blinds up and curtains wide-open for the whole world to peer inside, you have to accept that someone is bound to judge.”

  He captured her wrist in a gentle, nonabrasive manner. “Are you judging me for the man I used to be?”

  Gregor wasn’t sure why, but he grew anxious waiting for her response. Again, why did her opinion of him matter? After their time here was up, they would never see each other again.

  Zahra’s eyes darted to where his hand rested as if his touch offended her in some way. Finally locking gazes with him, something gentle sparkled in her eyes, replacing the hint of coldness he’d seen several moments prior.

  “No, I’m not,” she said in a tender tone. “Trust me, I’m not without fault.”

  He doubted she had any skeletons stuffed in her closest.

  Pure and undeniably sexual tension swelled between them. Zahra’s breathing became visibly shaky. His own was unsteady, too. Lowering his eyes to her mouth, his stomach knotted with need, ultimate desire. He needed to kiss her, dammit. But before he could align his lips to hers, she backed away.

  “Um, I should... I should clean up.”

  “Wait.” The word came out so urgently it stunned him. Caution, anxiousness or fear danced in her eyes. He couldn’t tell which. Clearly, she, too, had experienced the draw between them but chose to run from it. Instead of seizing the unspoken invitation her eyes extended, he said, “Thank you for not judging me.”

  She nodded, then moved away. Yep, she definitely wanted him, too. So, who would make the first move?

  Chapter 7

  On his way into the kitchen, Gregor peered through the glass that gave a direct view of the sunporch. Zahra was still there. Standing just out of view, his appreciating eyes roamed over the contours of her body in the light gray jogging suit she wore. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and she wore glasses. When she bit at her lower lip, he couldn’t help but think how sexy she looked. A naughty schoolteacher came to mind.

  Frequently, he found himself thinking about her. Pondering her likes and dislikes. Speculating on what made her tick. It was so exhausting. What in the hell are you doing to me, woman?

  It had been several hours since he’d passed by earlier that morning, and he couldn’t believe she was still at it. As long as Zahra had been typing away at that keyboard, he was surprised her fingers hadn’t fallen off.

  His gaze lowered to Waterspout, curled into a ball at her feet. Since the bad weather had finally tapered off and the sun was actually starting to peep through the clouds, he was surprised no one had come looking for her. While he’d originally been the dog’s object of affection, she’d put him down for Zahra. Probably because she was the one who fed her.

  And speaking of food. It was three in the afternoon, and he hadn’t even seen Zahra stop for a glass of water. Which meant she probably hadn’t eaten. How was she still functioning? He would have shut down a long time ago. Well, she did strike him as a fighter. Resilient. That was so attractive to him.

  The thought of her starving spawned the wildest idea he’d had thus far. He continued into the kitchen, removed sliced meat and fixings from the fridge, washed his hands and made Zahra a sandwich: layers of salami, ham, roast beef, turkey, cheese, lettuce, tomato, spices and mayo. On a plate, he cut the massive sandwich in half, framed it with chips and a pickle, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, then delivered the meal.

  Zahra never glanced up when he entered the room, but her fingers stopped midstroke when he slid the dish in front of her. Her question-filled eyes rose to him, then lowered back to his offering. A slow smile curled her lips, forcing him to mimic the response.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  “Fuel. You’ve been at it all day. You need to eat.” As if the universe deemed it necessary to cement his claim, her stomach roared rather loudly. “I think your body agrees.”

  Zahra laughed. “I think you’re right. Thank you, Gregor. This was extremely kind and thoughtful of you.” She eyed him with playful suspicion. “You didn’t poison it, did you?”

  “Of course not.” Since their first encounter, he’d witnessed a lot of looks in her eyes, but none as tender as the one on display now. “And you’re welcome. I’ll let you get back to work,” he said, backing away.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Confused by the question, he spoke a hesitant, “Back inside.”

  “I know you don’t expect me to eat this massive sandwich all by myself, do you?”

  “Are you inviting me to have lunch with you?”

  “I guess I am.”

  “Well, I guess I accept.”

  Gregor eased down into the chair next to her. He discounted the comfort he experienced being near her. Over the next couple of hours, they ate, laughed, talked, shared moments of refreshing silence. He couldn’t believe how easy it was to talk to her. It was like having a conversation with a close friend he’d known for decades. That should have been a warning sign.

  Zahra circled a hand over her stomach. “Oh, my God, that was so good. I’m stuffed. I feel like I need several hours of physical activity after eating that sandwich.”

  He could think of one or two activities he would have liked to participate in with her. He shook the naughty imagery away. “You didn’t finish your half.”

  “It’s not from lack of trying.”

  True. She had put a decent dent in it. Watching her savor the sandwich had been a welcoming sight. His ex hadn’t been much of an eater. And when she did, it was like observing a bird peck at a seed. Zahra definitely wasn’t shy around food.

  Zahra picked up a small piece of meat and popped it into her mouth. “What?” she asked.

  Gregor grinned. “Nothing.”

  “You’re not used to women doing anyt
hing other than nibbling around you, huh?”

  “Something like that,” he admitted.

  “You really do live a life shrouded in pretense, don’t you?”

  Not everything in his life was a sham. Deciding he’d kept her distracted long enough, he stood. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

  “You don’t have to go,” she said.

  Oh, yes, he did. The longer he stayed near her, the more ferociously he wanted her. “I have some things to take care of,” he lied. As he moved away, Zahra snagged the hem of his shirt, stopping him in his tracks.

  “Thank you for lunch,” she said.

  Staring down into her face, he lost himself in those dark brown eyes. Something powerful grabbed hold of him and refused to let go. The harder he fought it, the more potent it became, until he just couldn’t resist the urge to taste her mouth a minute longer.

  Inching the plate back onto the table, he braced a hand on the table’s edge and the other on the back of Zahra’s chair. Dipping low, he allowed his mouth to hover inches from hers.

  “What are you waiting for?” she asked in a wanting tone.

  Her boldness stunned him. What exactly was he waiting for? Something was holding him back. What? That tiny voice in the back of his head warning him against Zahra. Walk away, it ordered. She’s not like the other women you’ve encountered. This one could damage you. Save yourself.

  Didn’t the tiny voice see that kissing her was saving himself? If their lips didn’t touch, he would die of need. His lips grazed hers gently, then reared back and sought permission to continue. What Zahra didn’t say with her mouth, she said with her eyes. The passion dancing in them told him she wanted as much from him as he wanted from her.

  His kiss deepened, hungrily searching every inch of her warm wetness with his tongue, savoring it thoroughly. Her moans of satisfaction rang out in the room, mixing with his. He’d never tasted a mouth so sweet. Had never desired to consume a woman whole with a kiss until now. Had never felt energy so highly concentrated it altered him in some glorious way.

  The voice in his head grew louder, more demanding. Stop this now. You’re reaching the point of no return.

  Too late. There was no way he could turn back now if he wanted to. This journey would undoubtedly lead to extreme pleasure. Didn’t he deserve that? Didn’t he deserve this? To be so consumed with passion that he couldn’t think straight? Yes, he did.

  But even so, he ended their kiss. Pulling away from Zahra’s mouth had to be what it felt like trying to free yourself from quicksand that’s swallowing you whole. Somehow, he managed to escape her hold, but the effects of the ordeal still lingered.

  A worry line creased Zahra’s forehead. “What’s wrong?”

  That was a loaded question, but before he could fire off his answer, the doorbell rang, startling them both. Waterspout released a barrage of barks, then jetted toward the front of the house like a trained guard dog.

  “Who could that be?” she asked, still gripping the fabric of his shirt.

  “I’ll check.”

  “No!”

  He eyed her curiously.

  “Whoever it is might recognize you. I’ll go,” she said.

  She was out of the chair before he could say more. The fact that she’d willingly opted to protect him spoke volumes. And he’d heard every syllable. He stayed out of sight, but close by in case she needed him to come to her aid.

  The kiss they’d shared replayed in his head. Hell, that wasn’t just a kiss. It was more like an electrifying, soul-stirring, brain-scrambling undeniably electrifying connection. One he’d been foolish enough to break. But it had been necessary. What they’d shared had felt so good, so right, so necessary that it had spooked him. No woman had ever intimidated him before. Usually, it was the other way around. By any account, he didn’t like it. Not one little bit.

  His gaze fell to the notebook next to Zahra’s laptop. Angling it for a better look, he scanned the scribblings on the page, stopping at one particular section.

  Though things had started off rocking with them, they’d smoothed out nicely. Still, there was a level of discomfort. Mainly because Tyana had never wanted a man as strongly as she wanted this one. But they were from different worlds, saw things through opposing lenses.

  Money and fame allowed him comforts and pleasures most would never enjoy. Such privilege made him reckless, as it would most men, so she didn’t much hold that against him. His environment had molded him. Gabriel was a risk-taker; she was not. Yet, he’d been the only man to ever make her wish she could be. She wanted him, but only for one night.

  She wasn’t ready for a relationship. Her heart had suffered the blows of betrayal one too many times. Plus, Gabriel couldn’t offer the kind of relationship she wanted, the only kind she would entertain—one filled with trust and steeped in love.

  No, anything with him would be just sex, because he wasn’t the type of man who could commit to just one woman.

  Gregor pushed his brows together, then sent a hard stare toward the front of the house. Was this about him? Rich, famous and reckless. It sounded like him. All but the reckless bit. That was the old Gregor. Still, he had to ask the question again, was this about him?

  Nah.

  It was about some dude named Gabriel. A character in her story.

  Yep, this was all about the book, right? So why did it feel so personal?

  * * *

  Zahra wasn’t sure how she’d made it to the door when her world was still spinning after that dizzying kiss. The way she’d devoured Gregor’s mouth had been downright shameful. Instead of being appalled at herself, she was satisfied. She’d been the aggressor for once. What are you waiting for?

  Boy, had he delivered one hell of a delicious feast. The way his tongue had claimed the inside of her mouth—swiping, licking, searching—had her to the point of sexual delirium. No man had ever kissed her that way. And she wanted more.

  If other parts of him worked as efficiently as his mouth, she couldn’t wait to experience them. Did she want to experience more of him than just a kiss? Could she abandon inhibition and allow herself one noncommittal night with Gregor?

  Would she allow it?

  Should she allow it?

  These were tricky questions. The only thing she knew for certain was she couldn’t wait to get back to the sunroom and finish what they’d started.

  “Shh, Waterspout,” she said.

  The dog seemed determined to let the entire Lake Lamont community know just how fierce she was. When Zahra opened the door, Waterspout barreled toward the older black gentleman standing there in weathered boots, brown coveralls and a worn ball cap. Her tail wagged so hard, her entire body shook.

  Waterspout wasn’t alone in her excitement. The man scooped her into his arms like a child. There was no need to question who he was; because of the way Waterspout clung to the man, there was no doubt in Zahra’s mind she belonged to him.

  “Thank you, sweet Jesus, you are alive. I’ve been so worried about you, girl. Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”

  The two were all over one another like long-lost lovers reunited after decades of searching for each other. “Hello,” Zahra said, breaking up their reunion.

  “Oh. Pardon my manners, or lack of them. I’m just so happy to see my Brownie.”

  Brownie? So that was Waterspout’s real name. She liked Waterspout better.

  The man’s voice quavered and eyes glistened. Instantly, Zahra felt a great deal of compassion for him. Clearly, he loved Brownie very much.

  “I’m Bernard Buchanan. I live several miles up the lake. This little adventurer—” he jostled Water... Brownie “—decided she’d sneak out of the house and take a dip. The rough waters carried her farther and farther down the lake. I couldn’t get to her. I prayed and prayed she’d be okay. I’ve checked every residence. From my house
—several miles up the lake—to here. In my heart, I didn’t think my Brownie could have survived in the water this far down the lake, but I held out hope.” He glanced down at the dog. In a shaky voice, he said, “My prayers were answered.”

  “I spotted her drifting and immediately rushed in after her. Those waters were treacherous. I’m just glad I was able to save her, and we both came out okay. A little shaken and stirred, but okay.” Zahra took credit rightfully due to Gregor, but she couldn’t actually give it to him at the moment.

  “How can I ever repay you for what you’ve done for her, for us both?”

  “No payment necessary.”

  Mr. Buchanan thanked Zahra profusely and offered her a reward that she refused several times. When he shared with her that Brownie had belonged to his late wife, who’d passed a little over a year ago, and how devastated he’d been when he thought he’d lost Brownie, too, a tear trickled from her eye. She could feel the love he held for them both.

  Several moments later, Zahra said her goodbyes to Brownie and made her doggie-promise she wouldn’t jump into raging waters anymore. Brownie covered her in countless doggie kisses, but it was clear her heart belonged to Mr. Buchanan.

  Sadness filled Zahra as Mr. Buchanan and Brownie strolled away. While she’d known someone would likely come to claim Brownie, she still hated to see her go. Gregor would hate he didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.

  Gregor.

  The thought of picking up where they left off cheered her up.

  Chapter 8

  When Zahra returned to the sunroom, it was empty. Confused, she peered through the glass that gave an unobstructed view of the backyard. No Gregor. Where was he? The bedroom? The notion made her stomach flutter.

  Considering what had happened between them in the sunroom, his bedroom was probably the last place she needed to be. Still, she found her feet moving in that direction. Standing at his closed door, she lifted her hand to knock, but froze.

 

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