‘What I’m saying, Blossom, is that I’d like us to get to know each other better. OK?’ He took her in his arms again but now he was holding her loosely by the elbows, giving her every opportunity to move away if she so wished. ‘We can take it nice and easy. We’re both mature adults, there’s no rush that I can see. I accept you’re wary about getting involved again after your divorce. That’s fine. I’m not suggesting we leap into bed here and now. The physical side can happen when you’re ready.’
Oh, what should she do? What should she say? She felt in turmoil, so mixed up and confused she could burst into tears any moment. ‘I…I want to sit down.’ She had to distance herself from the feel of him. She couldn’t think with him holding her, even though his touch was as light as thistledown.
Once she was seated Zak sat down too, his gaze intent on her troubled face. ‘I think it’s only fair to tell you that whatever you say now I have no intention of giving in,’ he said calmly. ‘Attraction like ours doesn’t happen often, and I’m blowed if I’m going to walk away without a fight. I want to get to know you; I want you to get to know me. That way we can make an informed decision some time in the future whether to pull the plug or continue to see each other.’
‘That sounds very cold-blooded,’ Blossom said faintly.
‘Cold-blooded? Not a bit of it.’ He took a handful of peanuts and ate them before he continued, ‘My sources tell me you met and married your husband after just a few weeks, and presumably you lived to regret that?’
She nodded. Regret was far too mild a word.
‘What I’m suggesting should therefore be infinitely more…reassuring. A slow courtship. Good old-fashioned word that, courtship, don’t you think? Conjures up pictures of girls in straw bonnets and young men standing on the doorstep with a posy in their eager hands. A bygone age.’
His voice was quiet, soothing, and as Blossom stared at him she knew he was deliberately trying to diffuse the situation, create a calm atmosphere. It didn’t work, not with him so close. He had said he wouldn’t walk away without a fight, and she knew she didn’t have the strength to continue to defy him, simply because her head was telling her one thing and her feelings another. Her head said it would be incredibly stupid to let Zak into her life, however limited the contact. Her feelings said she would be mad not to take advantage of what could only be a brief liaison in the overall scheme of things.
Since she had met him thoughts of him had circled her mind constantly whether she’d been awake or asleep. Perhaps it would be better to see him for a time—get him out of her system, so to speak? She agreed the physical attraction between them was fierce, but that was only part of a relationship after all. Maybe when she got to know him she would end up thoroughly disliking him, and then that would make things easy. She knew so little about him, if she thought about it—his views, his slant on politics, religion, life in general. She was sure they wouldn’t be compatible, and then she could put him out of her mind and her life for good.
‘If we did start seeing each other now and again there would be absolute honesty between us?’ She looked at him warily.
‘Of course. I told you, I stopped playing games a long time ago. Neither do I apologise for the man I am or make excuses for how I behave.’ His gaze was piercingly steady. ‘If people don’t like it…’ He shrugged, settling more comfortably in his seat.
Arrogant. She didn’t like arrogance. One on the list. It was a start. ‘All right.’
‘All right?’ Now it was Zak who looked wary. ‘All right, meaning…?’
‘We could do dinner sometimes, have the odd drink after work, that sort of thing.’ Blossom was rather pleased with her casual air. Of course, it would have been nice if the sight of him, relaxed and lazy with his long legs stretched out in front of him and his hand resting idly on his wine glass, didn’t make her pulse race and the blood tingle through her veins. But she could work on that. Given time. How much time, she wasn’t sure.
‘Sounds good to me.’ Zak unfurled himself from the chair. ‘I’ll pick you up at eight. OK?’ He smiled lazily down at her.
‘What? I didn’t mean tonight.’ She stared at him, taken aback.
‘Why? What are you doing tonight?’ he asked with deceptive reasonableness.
Deadpan, Blossom murmured, ‘Parachuting. Or is it my rock-climbing class? Darn it, I can’t remember in my social whirl.’
‘I don’t think they hold classes in rock climbing. Must be potholing you’re thinking of.’
‘That’d be it.’ She drained her glass of wine.
‘Eight sharp, OK?’
He walked past her and into the flat, ignoring her, ‘Hey, hang on a minute, I haven’t agreed to…’
Blossom heard the front door bang. ‘Go out tonight,’ she finished to herself.
Overbearing. Dictatorial. Rude. Three more on the list, and she hadn’t even been trying. The list was going to be accomplished in no time at all.
Chapter 6
‘So let me get this straight.’
Blossom waited while her sister gave a pregnant pause. She had known this was going to be a difficult phone call, and Melissa wasn’t disappointing her. She rarely did.
‘You are now going out with the man we both agreed would be majorly crazy, if not one-hundred-per-cent disastrous for you to see. Right so far?’ she said tartly.
‘I guess,’ Blossom said flatly when Melissa let the silence at the other end of the phone grow. ‘In a manner of speaking.’
‘The man who, far from being your average Mr Nice Guy, is a class-one womaniser? Who has women lined up like skittles?’
‘You don’t know that.’ She didn’t know why she was defending Zak. No, actually, she did. ‘I don’t think his reputation is deserved,’ she said carefully. ‘Office gossip always embroiders everything, you know that. Not that I’m saying he hasn’t known plenty of women, he’d tell you that himself, but I don’t think he’s any worse than lots of other men.’
‘Casanova, Don Juan, men like that?’ Melissa put in sweetly.
‘Very funny.’ She really didn’t need this aggravation.
‘And the fact that this man who is no worse than lots of other men happens to be drop-dead gorgeous and wealthy and influential and powerful doesn’t bother you at all? You feel sure that at heart he’s a real one-woman guy?’
Sisters. Why did they always have to put their finger right on the sore bit? ‘I don’t know,’ said Blossom shortly.
‘But you’re going out with him anyway.’
‘Casually.’ Blossom paused. ‘Strictly on a casual basis.’
There was a snort. It was remarkably eloquent.
‘I mean it, Melissa. We’re taking it slowly, no strings attached. Just the odd meal now and again. A drink after work.’
‘You’ll be telling me next the pair of you are just good friends. And please don’t. I couldn’t stand it.’
‘Well, no, I wouldn’t go that far, but Zak’s fully aware I’ve got no intention of sleeping with him, if that’s what you mean. I’ve laid it on the line, so there can be no doubt about it.’
‘Blossom, Zak Hamilton is the most attractive, sexy man in the universe! How long do you think you’re going to hold out? I mean, give me a time span here. A week? A month?’
Blossom breathed out slowly and prayed for patience. ‘I thought you didn’t like him.’
‘That doesn’t make me blind.’ There was another pause. ‘And I’ve never said I dislike him. I’m just not sure I like him, exactly. That’s something completely different.’
‘I’m glad we cleared that up.’ Blossom shook her head.
‘Sis, he’s not right for you.’ Melissa had changed tack, now her voice was soft and throaty. ‘You must see that? I’m only concerned for you. You took such a knock over Dean, I didn’t think you were ever going to get over it. And Zak…’
‘I know.’ She knew all right. Once Zak had deposited her back at the flat after a truly delicious meal at the sort of restaurant
she’d only normally got to see from the outside, with her nose pressed up against the windowpane, she hadn’t slept all night. One moment she’d been telling herself there was no harm done, she’d only agreed to see him now and again after all, and the next she’d been calling herself every sort of fool.
And—she really wasn’t sure if this was a plus or a minus on the list—his goodnight kiss had been a fleeting brush on her lips and nothing else. She had been tied up in knots in the moments before they had reached the flat, wondering how best to make it clear that she intended to stand by all she had said. In the event she hadn’t had to say a thing. A brief caress, a murmured, ‘I’ll ring you tomorrow,’ and he had gone. Flipping cheek, when you think about it!
‘You say you know, but you don’t. That’s the whole point.’ Not privy to the anticlimatic end to the previous evening, Melissa still had the bit firmly between her teeth. ‘Some women might be able to enjoy a brief affair, and say goodbye when the time comes without a moment’s regret, but not you. You’re not like that. And men are different to us. They can do it without their emotions or heart being involved.’
‘Melissa, I hate to point out the obvious, but if anyone knows that, I do,’ said Blossom very drily.
‘Oh heck! I didn’t mean…Dean was just a total swine. It was no reflection on you—’
‘It’s all right.’ She cut Melissa’s stammerings short. ‘Relax. You haven’t mortally wounded me.’
‘I’m just concerned about you,’ Melissa repeated. ‘If it was anyone else but Zak Hamilton you were seeing I’d be over the moon. I just don’t want a frying-pan-into-the-fire scenario here.’
‘I know that, and I know you’ve got my best interests at heart. To be truthful this is probably a very bad idea, but at least I know that and I’m on my guard. Honestly, I am. And I’m not expecting it to last two minutes.’
‘So why did you agree to go out with him?’ Melissa said flatly.
‘Excellent question.’ With no answer. Just a host of mixed up feelings and emotions she couldn’t make sense of. ‘Let’s just say I was suddenly tired of going out with the girls or on my own.’ As the doorbell rang, she said hastily, glad to end the conversation, ‘I’ve got to go, someone at the door. I’ll talk to you later.’ It was a relief to put down the phone.
After a voice informed her, ‘Delivery for Miss White,’ on the flat’s intercom, Blossom pressed the button and opened the door into the building. When she opened her own front door into the hall, a young lad presented her with an enormous bouquet of deep-red roses and baby’s breath, along with a package wrapped in silver paper. She took them a mite gingerly.
Zak. She glanced at the roses with a touch of cynicism, before thanking the boy and closing the door. She didn’t have a vase remotely big enough for such an extravagant bouquet. There must be at least fifty stems of roses, besides the baby’s breath and fern. It must have cost the earth.
Placing the bouquet on the kitchen worktop, she took the package through to the garden along with a cup of coffee. There had been no card with the flowers, and the reason for this became clear when she opened the parcel to find a book entitled A Hundred-and-One Reasons For Being Single, and a message on the flyleaf which read:
Thought this might come in handy this morning, although you’re probably up to the hundred mark all by yourself. The flowers are to say there’s another side to the coin, that’s all. Unless, of course, you’re in the habit of sending flowers to yourself? Whatever, treat the flowers with kindness and throw the book in the bin. Zak.
Not ‘love, Zak’, then. Or ‘looking forward to seeing you again’. ‘Missing you already’ would have been over the top, especially as it was the line Dean had used after their first date when he had sent her flowers. A mixed bouquet, if she remembered correctly, which had already been wilting when she’d received it. She should have known then.
Blossom swallowed. Dean had never had much of a sense of humour. Sending this book wouldn’t have occurred to him in a million years. She looked at Zak’s writing. It was a black scrawl with a certain flourish to it. It fitted somehow. She groaned inwardly and went to put the flowers in water.
He phoned in the afternoon. She knew it was him even before she picked up the receiver. ‘Blossom? It’s Zak.’
‘Hello,’ she said a little breathlessly. ‘Thank you for the flowers, they’re lovely, and the book provided that one last reason I was looking for. How did you know?’
‘It’s a gift.’
She could tell he was smiling. She smiled too.
‘Doing anything tonight?’ he asked lazily.
She had promised herself she would make some excuse not to see him if he asked, practising one or two until she’d been word perfect. ‘No, nothing special.’
‘Good.’ She heard a phone ring in the background and the buzz of voices. He must be phoning from the office even though it was a Saturday. ‘Look, there’s something of a mini crisis here, and I’ll be tied up till gone seven. How about I pick you up once I’ve finished and we eat together?’ he suggested softly. ‘Be ready after sevenish or thereabouts.’
A thousand reasons to put a brake on this now. ‘OK.’
‘See you then.’ The receiver went down without further ado.
Blossom sat looking at the phone for a good five minutes, but she wasn’t really
seeing it. Eventually she roused herself from the stupor, telling herself she was tired due to the sleepless night, and her whirling thoughts were nothing to do with the deep, silky voice on the other end of the telephone.
She would go and have a shower right now and then take a nap for an hour or two, or else she’d be a wet rag by seven.
The warm water relaxed her aching muscles, and she stood under the flow for some time before drying herself and padding through to the bedroom. Once in bed she was convinced she wouldn’t sleep a wink, but the next thing she knew the alarm clock was telling her it was six o’clock. She lay for some minutes in the warm, quiet room. It looked completely different from when Dean had lived here with her. She had redecorated the flat throughout, and the bedroom in particular, even going so far as to buy a new bed, wardrobe and dressing table as well as new bed linen, curtains and carpet. She hadn’t been able to bear the thought of sleeping in the bed she had shared with Dean, not after finding out he had used her so completely. For a long, long time she had felt almost dirty, and although she’d known she had done nothing wrong, and that the feeling was ridiculous, it had only been in the last twelve months that the feeling had completely gone.
He had fooled her so utterly, that was the thing. She sat up in bed, brushing her hair out of her eyes and then hugging her knees. Although she had no feeling left for him at all now, beyond disgust and deep loathing, it still unnerved her that she could be taken in so completely. Zak had said she didn’t trust the male sex, and that was true up to a point, but she trusted herself—her own intuition and instinct—still less. And she couldn’t see that ever changing.
‘Don’t think about this now.’ She spoke out loud into the pastel-coloured room. ‘Enjoy this evening for what it is, a brief interlude.’ Because that was all it, and any other dates she might have with Zak, could be. Commitment came at too high a price, and it was one she was not prepared to pay ever again. Nothing and no one was worth becoming vulnerable for, and a relationship couldn’t work unless you were prepared to do that.
By the time Zak rang the doorbell at just gone seven, Blossom was ready. She had purposely not dressed up, keeping her clothes pretty but informal. But the sleeveless jersey dress in pale violet was one of her favourites, and the strappy sandals in a deeper shade of violet matched the short-sleeved, buttonless cardigan she’d slung over her arm for later that evening. She had left her hair loose, and it fell in a shining sleek curtain to her shoulders, the wide silver hoops in her ears just visible when she moved her head. It was much too hot to wear make-up, but she’d compromised with a touch of eyeshadow and mascara.
‘Yo
u look as fresh as a daisy.’ Zak smiled at her as she opened the door leading into the street. ‘And a hundred times more beautiful.’
‘Thank you.’ She wondered if he had noticed the little bee brooch pinned to her dress. Melissa had been convinced that what Blossom had assumed was a crystal was actually a diamond, and had actually had the temerity to covertly spirit the brooch away to a jeweller’s before Blossom had returned home from her sister’s. She had come back utterly unrepentant and full of the fact that she’d been right. It was a diamond, and a very nice one, the jeweller had reported. Furthermore, the silver wasn’t silver but white gold.
Blossom had been furious with her, but her annoyance was water off a duck’s back to Melissa. She’d merely grinned and turned to Greg, saying, ‘He’s no skinflint, your esteemed boss. I’ll give him that. But then, he is loaded after all.’
Perhaps Zak was loaded, Blossom thought now as they walked to the Aston Martin parked outside the house, but it had still been a tremendously generous gift when she’d barely known him.
Once he had settled her in the car, Blossom watched him as he walked round the bonnet to the driver’s side. His tie was loose and the first two or three buttons of his shirt undone, and the hard, square jaw bore ample evidence of a strong five-o’clock shadow. His hair wasn’t lying as smoothly as the other times she’d seen him; it looked as though he had run his hand through it over and over again.
As he slid into the car, Blossom realised he looked tired. Why this should increase the sensual magnetism at the heart of his attractiveness ten-fold she didn’t know, but it did. Perhaps because it suggested a touch of vulnerability in the otherwise ruthless good looks? Whatever, she found her breathing was shallow and her hands damp.
Keeping her voice light and conversational, she said, ‘Hard day? You look bushed, if you don’t mind me saying so.’
He smiled. ‘Let’s just say I’ve had better.’ He leant across as he spoke, skimming her bare lips with his mouth before kissing her more deeply. ‘Scrub what I said,’ he murmured smokily, settling back in his own seat. ‘This is a great day.’
His Christmas Bride Page 9
