by Cat Schield
When she picked up the cup of peppermint tea beside her laptop, Zoe noticed the black smudge of eye makeup on her hand and headed into the bathroom to wash her face. As she patted her skin dry, she scanned her features in the mirror, deciding without the dark makeup she looked younger than her twenty-nine years. At least until she met her reflected gaze and saw the weight of her experiences lingering in her eyes.
A knock sounded on the door that led from the stockroom to the parking lot, making Zoe’s heart jump. A glance at her watch showed it was nearly ten at night. Who could possibly be stopping by at this late hour?
Many of the women she worked with knew Zoe’s story and that she was living in the store’s back room to save money. Opening up about her troubles hadn’t been easy for Zoe. She’d spent nearly the whole of her marriage acting as if her life was perfect. But being authentic with these women was important for them and for her. As a result, Zoe was learning courage where she’d once feared. What she’d perceived as weakness and failure didn’t have to define her.
With these thoughts lightening her steps, Zoe crossed to the door and opened it. The person standing outside wasn’t at all whom she expected.
“What are you doing here?” Zoe asked, hoping her panic didn’t show.
“I thought we should talk.”
His gaze slid over her, rousing Zoe to the realization that her flowered loungewear and pink fuzzy slippers weren’t in keeping with her badass chick persona.
“So you just show up here?” she demanded, outrage lending her the strength to stand her ground and glare at him when her instincts urged her to retreat. “And how did you know where to find me?”
“I followed you.”
“You followed...?”
An overwhelming sense of anxiety pummeled her. Yet, even as she backed up a step and started to pull the door closed, she recognized that with his suspicions aroused, this man wouldn’t trust her unless she gave him a chance to vent his doubts. Squashing her anxiety, she fell back and let him pass.
Ryan entered the back room, glancing around as he did so. Boxes filled with inventory occupied nearly a third of the wide room. A curtain divided the rest of the space into a staff break room and Zoe’s office and living quarters. During the hours when the store was open, Zoe kept the curtain closed, but when she was alone, she tied it back. At the moment the cot she was sleeping on was visible.
“Are you sleeping here?” he asked, his hard gaze returning to her.
Shame sifted through her at her current circumstances. More than anything she’d like to be living like a normal person in a home with a proper kitchen and bathroom.
Instead of answering, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I have work to do. If you would quickly say whatever is on your mind, I can get back to it.”
“Fine,” he snapped, frowning. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”
“I told you I’m—”
“Zoe Alston.” He nodded. “What you didn’t say is that you were formerly Zoe Crosby.”
Zoe froze as horror filled her. He’d investigated her. The implications ricocheted through her mind, moving too fast for her to settle on any single reason to freak out. Did he know what she, Everly and London had been up to? Could he be there to threaten her? He hadn’t hesitated to send Kelly Briggs to jail. What would he do to Zoe if he knew she’d intended to cause trouble for his sister?
“So I was married,” she murmured, hating how exposed she felt at the moment. “It didn’t work out.” It got a little easier each time she admitted the failure. There was power in that. “What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is that you were acting odd.”
“I wasn’t.” Or at least she’d been trying not to. The man made her nervous with his sharp mind and flagrant sex appeal.
“And you lied.”
Lies of omission and of intent. Even so, she refused to apologize or to defend herself. Instead she let her stony expression speak for her.
When the silence stretched, Ryan continued. “You told Tonya you were crashing with a friend.”
“Given everything that’s happened to me in the last year, forgive me if I didn’t feel much like bringing up all my dirty laundry.”
“Did you really think anyone would care about your divorce?”
“In my experience, people are quick to judge. All I wanted to do was to help out someone I admired. Now you have to go and ruin that.”
Bold words. She might have to follow through and quit the campaign to demonstrate her proclaimed level of outrage wasn’t false. How was she supposed to mess up Susannah’s campaign if that happened? Of course, there was always the possibility that Lyle Abernathy would succeed where Zoe failed and she could ride off into the sunset without the campaign’s blood on her hands.
“Is that why you invited me to dinner?” she asked, feeling deflated. “So you could check me out?”
“No, I invited you out because I was attracted to you.”
Pleasure short-circuited the steady rhythm of her breath. But she wondered if he still felt the same now that he’d seen her stripped of her makeup and the tough-girl clothes.
“I’m not your type,” she said, returning to the same argument she’d used in the restaurant parking lot.
“How can you be so sure?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as he studied her.
“We might never have crossed paths at any of Charleston’s social functions,” she said, on safer ground now that they were talking about him, “but I’ve seen you out and about. Not to mention all the gossip surrounding the romantic intrigues of one of the city’s most eligible bachelors.” She gave him a cool smile. “I seem to recall you tend to favor leggy brunettes with blue eyes.”
She had no idea if that was true, but enjoyed a stab of satisfaction when his brow wrinkled in surprise.
“I don’t know if that’s fully accurate.” But obviously it was accurate enough.
To emphasize her point, Zoe ran her fingers through her short, spiky hair in a mocking salute. “I am neither brunette nor leggy. And my eyes are not blue.”
“No, they are not. They remind me of autumn leaves.”
To her dismay, he took a leisurely step in her direction, lowered his lashes and looked her over with predatory intent. Her pulse kicked into high gear when his gaze lingered on her lips and she had a hard time resisting the urge to nibble the lower one. The air in the room seemed suddenly supercharged with erotic energy and Zoe’s nipples tightened in anticipation.
“I’m not interested in getting involved with you,” she said, throwing up a warning hand even as she sensed that nothing she could do or say would stop the inevitability of their sexual chemistry.
“Then why did you agree to have dinner with me?”
Losing the battle against his magnetism, she replied, “My budget for dining out is extremely tight.”
“Is that why you’re living here?” Without taking his eyes from her, Ryan gestured with his head, indicating her cot.
She was abruptly bombarded by an image of them together on the narrow bed, his mouth on hers, his hands diving beneath her clothes, setting fire to her skin. As her blood pounded in her ears, she almost didn’t hear Ryan’s next question.
“Because you’re out of money?”
“Not that it’s any of your business,” she began, irritated with herself for letting him get to her. “But between my extensive and contentious divorce and opening the boutique, I’m broke.”
“You said you worked here,” he reminded her. “But you actually own it?”
She nodded.
“That’s why you spoke so passionately about the store during dinner.”
She nodded again. “I’ve poured everything into Second Chance Treasures and we’re starting to show a small profit, but not quite enough yet.”
One dark eyebrow went up, but something akin to
approval flickered in his gray eyes as he asked his next question.
“How long have you been living here?”
“Nearly six months. As my divorce dragged on, I gave up my apartment so I could pay the lease here.” Zoe had no idea why she was pouring out her problems to Ryan, but it offered her some relief to share her troubles with someone.
“Are you waiting on a settlement?”
Zoe shook her head. “I barely received enough to pay my lawyer.”
“Because you signed a prenuptial agreement?”
“That and according to Tristan’s financial records, he’s heavily mortgaged on every piece of property he owns. He maintains a lavish lifestyle.” Her voice grew bitter. “Keeping his prize stable of polo ponies happy and healthy is very expensive.”
“But—”
Zoe broke in. “Believe me, I hired the best lawyer I could afford and we looked at everything.”
At least everything they knew to look at. Based on Tristan’s spending, he had to have been hiding money somewhere. Yet tracing it had proved impossible.
Zoe’s thoughts went back in time to that Beautiful Women Taking Charge event and the investigation London was doing on Zoe’s behalf. A tiny portion of her held out hope that the event planner might just find something that Zoe could use to take Tristan back to court.
“Looks like you have a fair amount of money tied up in inventory.” Ryan indicated the stacks of boxes before striding toward the door that led to the main part of the store.
“I mostly operate on a consignment basis.” She trailed after Ryan, letting her fingers drift over the wall until they encountered the light switches. She flipped them on and the space was bathed in a soothing glow. “I buy outright from some of my artists because I want exclusive rights to their work, but most of what I sell I take a fifteen percent commission.”
“Wouldn’t you be better off owning the inventory?” he asked.
“Probably.” Zoe straightened a rack of children’s dresses made from organic cotton and nontoxic dyes. “But at first I couldn’t afford to buy everything and the women make more by going the consignment route. Now, have I answered all your questions?”
“All but one.”
“Fire away.”
“Did you join Susannah’s campaign on behalf of anyone connected to Lyle Abernathy?”
“What?” Surprise and relief flashed through her in rapid succession. “No. Of course not. Why would I work for Lyle Abernathy?” she asked, the truth coming easily. “I don’t know the man. Or anyone connected to him.”
Doubt was written all over Ryan’s face.
“Look, I can see you don’t believe me,” she said. “And I will admit that I wasn’t up front with you about my past. But if I’m guilty of concealing anything, it’s who I am. Ending my marriage to Tristan caused a complete severing of every social tie I had. To the women I used to call friends, I am a pariah. Not one of them has reached out to me since I separated from Tristan.”
Hurt gave her voice a quaver. She didn’t try to control it. Appearing vulnerable would deflect Ryan’s suspicions. Still, discovering that this bothered her surprised Zoe. Those women had never truly been her friends and she should be happy that she was free of their petty mischief.
“I was looking for a fresh start with people who wouldn’t judge me based on a preconceived notion of who I was. So I changed my hair and bought some new clothes and joined your sister’s campaign because I believe she’s going to make a great state senator.”
Through her tirade, Ryan remained silent, his expression unreadable.
“I won’t apologize for following you here or checking you out,” Ryan said. “This senate race is really important to my sister and I won’t let anyone mess it up for her. So, if certain events have happened in the past year to make me suspicious as hell of people—”
“People?” she countered, interrupting him. “Or women?”
A muscle twitched in his cheek. “Look, I got burned because I didn’t see certain signs,” he admitted. But his candidness lasted no longer than a camera flash. “And I’ll be damned if I let anything like that happen again.”
“I can tell you exactly how to avoid any trouble with me.” At his disgruntled snort, she set one hand on her hip and gestured with the other toward the back of the store. “You can walk right out of here and never bother me again.”
* * *
After leaving Zoe, Ryan had headed home and spent several hours searching the internet for anything he could find on Zoe Crosby. There’d been less than he expected, but the few photos he’d found showed a slender woman with long, straight hair the color of caramel and a Mona Lisa smile. Tranquil and immediately forgettable, despite her beauty, she looked nothing like the spitfire standing before him in pastel floral pajamas and fuzzy slippers.
It struck him then that he didn’t want to avoid the trouble she was likely to bring into his life. He wanted to wade right into danger and say to hell with consequences just so he could go on feeling the fierce emotions raging in him. He didn’t trust her. He was convinced that much of what she’d told him tonight was grounded in truth, but not the entire story.
That his instincts continued to howl at him warned Ryan he should do as she suggested and never see her again. But his blood pulsed hot and fast through his veins, setting his entire body on fire. From their first encounter, he’d wanted her. Now that he had a better sense of who she was, the craving to slide his fingers over her naked skin was nearly painful in its intensity.
Ryan ground his teeth while his mind fought his body for control. Indulging his desire for her would be madness. Even if she hadn’t joined the campaign as one of Abernathy’s puppets, it was obvious that whatever she’d been through in the last year—maybe even her entire marriage—had left wounds that were far from healed.
He should just walk away. And in fact, he took several steps, intending to leave the store and never look back. But when he drew even with her, her tantalizing perfume tickled his nose, reminding him of the first time they’d met. With a sparkle of raspberry for sweetness and something peppery for heat and below it all a sensual layer of vanilla, her scent begged him to move in close and explore every inch of her skin.
“You’re right. It would be better if I left and never came back,” he said, cursing the insistent thrum of hunger that made him lean in. “But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to do this.”
He cupped her cheek, tilting her head and caught a flash of curiosity in her autumn-toned eyes before brushing his lips across her forehead. Her body went completely still and he was pretty sure she’d stopped breathing. His own breath grew unsteady as her hands came up and clutched at his shoulders, urging him ever so slightly closer. The sheer intensity of his need to kiss her messed with his head. What power did she possess that just holding her in his arms turned him on?
He dusted kisses over her cheeks, nose and jaw, testing his willpower. Tension vibrated in her muscles but she made no move to free herself. Ryan wrapped his arm a little tighter around her, drawing her slim curves more firmly into contact with his unyielding planes and, to his delight, her lips parted on a soft moan. This was his cue and he dipped his head, sealing his lips to hers.
Time didn’t just slow. It stopped. Or maybe his heart had forgotten its primary responsibility was to keep him alive. Head spinning, he lost himself in the wet, delicious slide of their lips before flicking his tongue over a bit of peppermint toothpaste that she hadn’t fully rinsed away at the corner of her lips. Setting his palm against her spine, he pulled her lower half into him, letting her feel the hard ridge of his growing erection.
Her lips parted on a luxurious sigh, granting him access to her sweet mouth while her body molded to his. Ryan sent his tongue questing forward, gliding over the ridge of her teeth, taking the time to learn every curve, every taste. Despite the increased tension in both their bodie
s, he concentrated on each new discovery. Rushing this first kiss would be a crime. Instead he intended to savor every slow, sexy second of it. To pay attention to each shiver that buffeted her slender form and learn what she liked.
Tunneling her fingers in his hair, she met the slow thrust of his tongue like a woman who hadn’t been kissed in a long time. Like someone who craved tenderness and romance.
Ryan slid his hand over her hip and down her thigh, exploring muscle and sinew. Her thin frame had deceived him into thinking she was soft and delicate. Beneath her surface lurked power. The revelation excited him. And made him realize that once again he hadn’t grasped the full story.
She looped her arms around his neck, pushed up on tiptoe. The move crushed her breasts against his chest and lightning stabbed through him. Ryan groaned, the carnal sound spurring her to nip at his lower lip with an impatient growl.
He needed no further encouragement. All thoughts of taking things slow vanished. Obviously she was feeling the same sort of insistent pressure. Running his fingers through her short hair, he cupped her head and tasted her a little more deeply. Hunger stormed his body as the kiss became harder, more intense. She wobbled and gave a little moan. He shifted his hold on her, taking a firmer grip, drawing her still tighter into the carnal interplay of lips and teeth and tongue.
Somewhere as if from a great distance came the buzz and trill that signaled he had a text message. Ryan’s attention jerked toward the sound, making him aware of his surroundings, the danger inherent in his loss of control and the sheer joy of letting go.
He lifted his mouth from hers, marveling at the difficulty of such a simple task. He kept his lashes lowered as he listened to his erratic breathing and wondered how big a mistake kissing her had been. At long last he peered down at Zoe, grateful to note she was equally short of breath.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” Despite her words and her unhappy tone, she made no attempt to free herself from his embrace.
He had his own theories on why getting involved with her was a bad idea, but was curious about her opinion on the subject. “Why not?”
