by Lee, Miranda
Drake’s expression was wry. “I know. You never think of surfers as ever being seriously rich. But believe me, Mitch is.”
“Mitch,” she repeated. “Sounds American.”
“No, he’s Australian through and through. Owns the Aus-Surf chain of stores. He started up several years ago with one small shop after injury forced him to retire early. Now Aus-Surf shops are franchised all around Australia. You must have seen them. They’re everywhere.”
“Yes, yes, I have.” They sold surfing equipment and clothes and accessories. As much as she liked the beach, Aus-Surf gear was not quite Zoe’s cup of tea. Too bright and bold.
“They’re doing extra well at the moment,” Drake rattled on, right in his element. Whenever he landed a wealthy client, he made it his business to find out all about him. “In the beginning, a lot of people thought the clothes were too loud and bright, but the surfing crowd loved them. Now that big colors have become all the rage in fashion, their sales have soared. Not that I’d ever be seen dead in that sort of thing. You should have seen what our multi-millionaire was wearing today. Can you imagine me in a lime-green shirt?”
“No,” she said truthfully. But she could imagine Aiden. He’d look gorgeous in it. He’d look gorgeous in anything. He looked extra gorgeous in nothing.
Zoe sighed. Would it never stop, these thoughts?
“I know, I know,” Drake said sheepishly. “I do rave on. Sorry. Go and get yourself ready. I’ll get the ice ready for the drinks.”
Zoe trailed off into the guest room where she’d put her things earlier, depression overwhelming her. All she wanted to do was run away, away from Drake, away from this party, and right away from playboy sportsmen who had egos larger than Mount Olympus and always thought they were God’s gift to women. If she was strictly honest with herself, she wanted to run right back to Hideaway Beach. And to Aiden. She didn’t care if he only wanted sex from her. That was all she seemed to want from him. It was certainly all she could think about.
Sometimes, she regretted running away from his bed last Sunday. She should have stayed, at least for the rest of the weekend. There was so much she hadn’t done with him and which she’d since ached to do. Make love to him in a shower. In the ocean. With her on top. With her hands. Her mouth. Her breasts. One persistent fantasy was to tie him to that brass bed. To have him at her mercy. To drive him wild!
“Zoe!” Drake called out. “I don’t hear that shower running. Get a move on, darling. Time’s a wasting.”
Zoe squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Oh, dear, what was she doing, wallowing in such thoughts? They were foolish. Futile. And so frustrating!
Yet, oh, the excitement they evoked. And the heat. She could feel it even now, spreading across her skin. A melting burning heat which scorched her face even as it seared between her thighs. She knew, without checking, that she would be wet. She’d been wet down there all week.
Groaning, she stripped off and plunged into a cold shower.
“Wow!” Drake exclaimed, when she emerged from the guest room fifty minutes later, looking cool and pretty in her mauve-and-pink dress. On the surface there was not a hint of the turmoil which was still rampaging beneath her seemingly controlled exterior.
She forced a smile as Drake walked slowly toward her, his dark eyes eating her up.
“I meet with your approval, do I?” she said.
“And how.” He slid his arms around her waist and drew her close. “I might have to keep you really close by my side tonight. Can’t have you swanning around by yourself looking this delicious, especially not with men like Mitch on the prowl.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about me with men like this Mitch,” she murmured ruefully, at the same time trying not to physically shrink away at the feel of Drake’s hands on her. She managed not to look repulsed, but any hope she’d been harboring that she could go to bed with Drake tonight was well and truly dashed. There was just so much faking a girl could do in one lifetime.
“He’s considered very handsome,” Drake said. “He’s also looking for a penthouse to replace the one he had to hand over to his last girlfriend. She took him to court for breach of promise last year when he tried to dump her, and she won.”
“Good for her,” Zoe said. “Should be more of it.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Men like that are a target for gold diggers. The girl in question said she gave up her career to live with him and look after him like a wife. She said he’d promised marriage but when she tried to set a date for their wedding, he told her he’d changed his mind, then tossed her out. His defense was that she was lying and that she’d only been house-sitting while he was traveling. But under oath he did admit to sleeping with her, though he claimed it was only once. If you saw the female in question, you’d know that stretched credibility. She was a stunner. Surely you must remember the case. It was in all the Sydney papers.”
“No. You know I don’t read newspapers much. And I rarely watch the news. It’s always so miserable.”
“True. Still, it was your firm which handled the defense. Or should I say, the lovely Nigel. No wonder they lost.”
“I don’t have much to do with Nigel and his clients,” Zoe said stiffly, hating the way Drake spoke about gay men. “Still, I think that had to be before I joined the firm. I’ve only been there five months, remember?”
“You’re right. I think it was before that. But enough chitchat. God, you look good enough to eat,” he growled, his head dipping to her neck.
“Drake, please,” she said, wriggling out of his arms. “It took me ages to get my makeup and hair just right.”
He stepped back and gave her a narrow-eyed look. “You aren’t going to knock me back again tonight, are you?”
Panic struck. “You…you said you wouldn’t press.”
“Did I?” he said coldly. “Silly me. Very well, Zoe, I won’t press. But I wouldn’t play this particular hand for too long, if I were you. I am not a patient man by nature.”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t sleep with you tonight,” she said, feeling wretched.
“How generous of you.”
“Drake, please, don’t be like that. If you truly loved me, you’d understand.”
“If you truly loved me, this wouldn’t be an issue. You’d be only too happy to make up with me in bed.”
“It’s not as simple as that for women.”
“It is for some,” he muttered.
The doorbell ringing was a relief.
“We’ll talk about this later,” Drake said, firmly taking Zoe’s arm and propelling her across the marble-floored foyer. “Meanwhile, stop looking so grim and try smiling.”
“Bob!” he exclaimed expansively on yanking open the front door. “And Tracy! Now this is a surprise. But a pleasant one, I assure you.”
Zoe smiled at Bob whom she’d met before. He worked as a salesman for the same real-estate agency as Drake. About forty, balding, overweight, and divorced, Bob never missed one of Drake’s parties.
She had no idea who Tracy was, but she was very attractive in a brassy bottle-blonde fashion. Thirtyish, she was wearing a short tight animal-print leather skirt and a black lace halter top with a deep crossover V neckline. Her hair was done up in that tousled just-got-out-of-bed look and her earlobes sported diamanté drop earrings which dangled down to her shoulders. Her breasts, which were big, were also braless, with large pointy nipples which were difficult to ignore under black lace.
“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure,” Zoe directed at the blonde.
“Tracy is our new receptionist,” Drake informed her a bit brusquely. “My girlfriend, Zoe.”
Zoe smiled at Tracy who smiled sweetly back whilst giving Zoe the once-over with her heavily made-up eyes.
“Bob, you sly dog, you,” Drake went on with a suggestive chuckle. “I had no idea you and Tracy were dating.”
“We’re not, are we, love? Tracy kindly offered to come with me tonight when I complained I had no one to bring.�
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“It was my pleasure, Bob, darling,” the blonde returned brightly. “And who knows? Maybe we’ll do it again sometime. Well, well, so this is how you live, is it, Drake?” She swept past them into the elegant columned foyer, showing everyone a rear view as provocative as her front. The top had no back to speak of, and she had an enviable behind, the shape of which Zoe knew would never be hers. A small tight butt, with narrow hips. Her legs were of enviable quality too, shapely calves and slender ankles, shown to advantage in black four-inch stilettos, complete with sexy ankle straps.
She made Zoe feel just a little girlish in her outfit. She suddenly wished she’d bought something sexier to wear.
The arrival of more guests was a welcome distraction and she was soon concentrating on her hostess role, all silly female jealousies banished from her mind. Drake handed over the doorman duties to her a good deal earlier than usual, which kept her busy. She tried not to worry about the fact he hadn’t smiled at her, or spoken to her personally since their earlier altercation. She understood he was angry with her. She also understood that if she didn’t come across tonight, their relationship was over.
It was a dilemma Zoe didn’t want to face ‘til she had to. Meanwhile, she downed a couple of glasses of Chardonnay and waited for the alcohol to work. With a bit of luck, it might do the trick and she would suddenly find Drake attractive again. At worst, it would at least make her feel less tense and more relaxed.
The party was humming by ten, with Drake’s prized new client not yet making an appearance. Clearly he wasn’t going to show. Zoe supposed men like that received invitations to parties all the time. They couldn’t go to all of them. Still, Drake was going to be disappointed which didn’t augur well for his mood later on.
When the doorbell rang again just after ten, Zoe hoped it was this Mitch fellow and hurried to answer it, sipping her third glass of wine as she went. She swept open the door just as she was lifting her glass to her lips once more.
But it wasn’t the missing Mitch. It was Aiden standing there, looking even more handsome than she remembered. He was clean shaven for starters and dressed beautifully in fawn chinos and a crisp blue shirt the color of his eyes.
Zoe’s eyes rounded at the sight of him. Her mouth gaped. Her hand froze.
All coherent thought fled.
11
AIDEN KNEW, THE MOMENT he saw Zoe again, why he’d finally given in and come to Sydney. Just the sight of her took his breath away.
But the shock on her face brought home to him that she hadn’t expected to see him again. She thought he’d been safely consigned to the closet, a spur-of-the-moment indiscretion which she didn’t want to think of ever again.
Facing the cold hard reality that he’d meant nothing more to her than a one-night stand pained Aiden more than he could ever have envisaged. But at least he had answers to his questions now. If nothing else, this trip to Sydney had stopped any stupid fantasy that there was something special between them, or—as his romantic-minded mother would have put it—that Zoe might have been his one true love.
To think he’d even begun considering such a silly idea!
The shock on Zoe’s face swiftly changed to a panicky confusion. “I…I never imagined for a moment that you’d follow me,” she babbled. “I didn’t think you’d care. But…how on earth did you know I’d be here? I mean…there’s no way that…oh…oh, I see…you found out through Nigel, didn’t you? He told you about me and Drake.” Her big brown eyes suddenly widened with alarm. “You’re not going to tell Drake about last Saturday night, are you?”
Fear over having her own unfaithfulness exposed showed Aiden that Zoe’s first priority in life was still the boyfriend.
Which again begged the question of why? Love? Or money?
Aiden was finding it harder and harder to believe it was love. Drake might be a super-successful salesman—and reasonably good-looking—but he was also a major sleazebag, as Nigel had accurately judged. Aiden hadn’t needed more than an hour with the man himself this afternoon to prove that. The lewd way Drake had flirted with the receptionist at his office had been a real eye-opener. If that blonde at the conference was the first female he’d two-timed Zoe with, Aiden would eat his hat.
But then…maybe Zoe already knew that. Maybe she’d decided to turn a blind eye to Drake’s extra-curricular activities in exchange for what he could give her.
Not for the first time, Aiden speculated that perhaps when Zoe found out how well heeled he was, maybe she’d change her priorities. It was telling that having seen her again, he no longer held the high moral ground that he would not become involved with another materialistic fortune-hunting woman. As his eyes swept over Zoe in that delicious dress and his body lurched into that unable-to-be-ignored-or-subdued hard-on which had tormented him all week, Aiden realized that he would do whatever it took to have sex with her again. He’d make any compromise. Play any role she fancied. Give her anything she wanted.
“No, I’m not going to tell Drake about us,” he promised, since doing so would hardly endear him to her. “So there’s no need to worry. But the thing is, Zoe, I’m not exactly…”
“Mitch!” Drake interrupted before Aiden could enlighten Zoe of his identity and financial status. “So you came after all. And you’re already trying to chat up my girl. Shame on you!”
“This is Mitch?” Zoe exclaimed, clearly stunned. “The same Mitch you were telling me about earlier on?”
“The one and only,” Drake confirmed, sliding a possessive arm around Zoe’s slender waist and pulling her close. “Why, darling? Who did you think he was?”
“He introduced himself as Aiden,” she said coldly.
Aiden wondered what on earth Drake had told her about him to produce such contempt in her eyes.
“Mitch is a nickname I had back in my surfing days,” he hastened to tell her. “But Aiden is my real name. Aiden Mitchell.” He didn’t want her thinking he’d lied to her about everything. Only his owning the weekender.
“Mitch suits you better,” Drake insisted.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Zoe said brusquely. “I have food to get out of the refrigerator or it’ll be too chilled for supper. I’m sure you two boys have plenty to talk about.”
Aiden could have kicked himself as he watched her walk off. Hell, he’d handled this all wrong. He should never have accepted Drake’s invitation and come here tonight. It was a tactical mistake.
Why hadn’t he foreseen how annoyed Zoe would be when she found out who he really was? No one liked to be made a fool of. It just showed you what happened when men started thinking with their bodies instead of their brains. Off goes your head and on goes a pumpkin!
“Don’t worry about Zoe,” Drake said, waving Aiden inside and shutting the door behind them. “She’s in a bit of a mood tonight. Been like it all week.” Now that, Aiden liked to hear. It meant that maybe Zoe hadn’t been able to dismiss him, or last Saturday night, so easily from her mind. Maybe she’d been thinking about him, too.
“Come on, Mitch, I’ll get you a drink.” Drake led Aiden down some steps into the reasonably crowded living room and over to a side table on which stood a wide array of liquor and a selection of clean glasses. “What’s your poison? You look like a Scotch on the rocks man.” He reached for a decanter.
“A light beer would do fine. I never drink hard liquor. A habit from my surfing days.”
Drake’s hand lifted from the decanter. “Really? I’m surprised. Come over here to the bar then. I’ve got all kinds of beer chilling in the bar fridge. Hi, Alex, Babs,” he said to a couple in a dimly lit corner who might have been dancing, or indulging in some foreplay. It was hard to tell which. They were certainly kissing. “Having fun? Great. Change the music if you like.” A sultry blues number was playing in the background.
“We already did,” they chorused back, briefly coming up for air.
The bar was a built-into-the-construction corner, with a gray marble top and stainless-steel stools, re
flective of all the furniture which was minimalist and cold-looking.
“Take a seat,” Drake offered, waving toward the stools.
Aiden decided to stand. Drake extracted a can of light beer, zapped open the top and poured it into a glass. “I thought surfers were supposed to be a pretty wild bunch, especially with the booze and the broads.”
“I discovered fairly early on that a hangover wasn’t conducive to good form on the board.” He accepted the beer and took a small swallow, wondering all the while how he was going to get rid of this creep and go explain things to Zoe.
“What about the women?” Drake persisted. “Don’t tell me you were one of those dedicated athletes who abstained from sex before competition for fear it would drain all your energy away!”
“Can’t say I ever subscribed to that particular theory,” Aiden said dryly, and Drake laughed.
“Same here. I find sex the most invigorating activity. Sometimes, with the right girl, the more I have, the more I want.”
Aiden felt sick with jealousy at this revelation, ‘til he realized Drake might not be talking about Zoe. “Well, you do have one very pretty girlfriend,” he remarked leadingly.
“What? Oh, yeah, Zoe’s pretty enough. But to be honest, she’s a bit on the prissy side when it comes to sex.”
“Oh?” Aiden had considerable difficulty hiding his shock. There’d been nothing prissy about Zoe the other night. Not once she got going.
“You know what it’s like. You’re a man of the world.” Drake dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Some women like their sex all sweet and sugar-coated. Others like it any time, any place, any way. I figured out when I was just a lad that the first kind are for marrying, and the others are just for screwing.”
“I presume the blonde at your office today is just for screwing then,” Aiden said dryly. “What was her name? Tracy something or other?”
“Hey, man. Hush up. We don’t want Zoe hearing anything like that. Not only that, would you believe Tracy’s here tonight? Turned up unexpectedly with one of my colleagues. I nearly died. Talk about living dangerously. Luckily, I’ve been able to avoid her all evening.”
