A Not-So-Innocent Seduction

by Janice Maynard

  “You’re an only child?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Maeve shook her head, her expression exasperated. “Quit ma’am-ing me, if you please. It’s unnecessary. Call me Maeve.”

  “I’d be honored.”

  “You know, Zoe...” She paused, her shoulders lifting and falling. “I don’t have any daughters, only sons. But I think you are an extraordinary young woman, and I’d like to know you better.”

  Danger, danger, danger. If Zoe became too entwined in the life of the Kavanagh family, she might find it even harder to leave. And she always left eventually. Always.

  Nevertheless, Maeve was waiting for an answer. “I’d like that, too,” Zoe said, feeling the truth of the words in her heart. “And you don’t have to worry. I’m not a threat to your son.”

  Twelve

  The following morning when Liam watched Zoe step out of the elevator, his heart jolted. As she sauntered across the lobby to meet him, he realized he was in danger of doing something—or maybe even a few somethings—that was either irrational or stupid or wildly impetuous. The urge and the recognition of that urge alarmed him. He was not that kind of man.

  Every set of male eyes in the vicinity tracked Zoe’s progress. She wore her brand-new boots with the scrunched tops of big socks visible. But it was the miles of long, slim legs and the abbreviated khaki shorts that walloped him with a punch of lust and longing.

  Every teenage boy in America had seen legs like those in naughty magazines hidden beneath mattresses.

  When Liam finally dragged his gaze upward, the view was equally stunning. Zoe wore a plaid button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled to her elbows and the tails tied in a jaunty knot at her waist, exposing a shallow, sexy belly button.

  Her golden hair was caught back in a ponytail. She lifted her hand and donned a pair of large tortoiseshell sunglasses, effectively shielding her gaze. “Good morning, Liam. Are we ready to go?”

  It was a good thing he was standing behind the front desk. He needed a moment to capture his equilibrium. His throat dry as dust, he managed a smile. “I am. Did you use sunscreen?”

  She nodded. “Top to bottom and everywhere in between.”

  Now there was an image. One he couldn’t dwell on at the moment. “Good.” His conversational expertise had been reduced to single syllables. Without further ado, he ushered her outside where one of his employees had brought around Liam’s Jag.

  Zoe patted the hood ornament as she walked around to the passenger side. “Promise not to bite me.”

  He wasn’t sure if she was talking to the chrome cat or to him. If it was the latter, she was out of luck. Once the picnic basket was safely stowed in the backseat, he glanced at his companion. “All set?”

  She nodded, her smile cheeky. “Bring it on.”

  The next half hour was the most fun he’d had in a long time...if you didn’t count that night in Zoe’s bed. He sent the Jag whizzing around curvy mountain roads, hanging just above the speed limit, but plenty fast enough to make Zoe shriek and laugh out loud.

  Her enthusiasm and joy were contagious. The cloud-dotted sky was as perfectly blue as a brand-new crayon, full of pictures and dreams waiting to be summoned. The day was warm, but not miserably hot, the breeze a soothing balance for the sun’s intensity.

  Liam drove with one hand on the wheel, his left arm resting on the door. “I thought I’d take you to Rooster’s Rest.”

  “How quaint. Sounds high.”

  He glanced deliberately at her bare legs. “You can make it.”

  For a moment, she took off her sunglasses and stared at him. Though he dared not take his gaze off the serpentine road for longer than a split second, one look in her direction registered the awareness that hovered between them. His sex tightened uncomfortably, and his breathing quickened. Today’s outing was all well and good, but he planned on persuading her to join him in a far more private, much more luxurious rendezvous. Very soon.

  When they reached the pull-off that accessed the trail he had in mind, Zoe hopped out of the car and stretched. East of them and far below, the town of Silver Glen seemed to slumber in the sunshine. Zoe practically bounced on her toes. “Come on, slowpoke,” she said.

  Liam removed their lunch and raised the top of the car. The small picnic basket was fitted with two straps that slipped over the shoulders like a backpack. He donned it, adjusted the fit, and pointed. “Okay, Miss Impatience. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  * * *

  In truth, Zoe had serious doubts about her ability to keep up with Liam. When wearing a dress suit he cut a formidable figure. But today, in professional-looking gear that had probably cost a fortune, he looked like a cover model for Backpacker Magazine. Broad shoulders...muscular calves and thighs. Boots that had the wear on them of a serious hiker.

  His vented dark-green shirt hung loose over khaki shorts. In this environment, he was the ultimate male. Capable of conquering the wilderness and killing a bear with his two hands.

  Okay, so maybe that last part was one part Daniel Boone legend and one part prehistoric female admiration, but wow...Liam Kavanagh was one hunky guy.

  Though she suspected he was attempting to shorten his stride, she was breathless in half a mile. “Stop,” she said, bending at the waist and trying to inhale oxygen. “Your legs are longer than mine.”

  “Sorry.”

  He didn’t look sorry at all. In fact, he looked distinctly something. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. “What’s wrong with you?”

  His jaw tightened. “Nothing.”

  “Liar.”

  His sudden move startled her. Without warning he had her up against a tree, his hips wedged against hers. “This is what’s wrong with me,” he said. His breath was hot on her cheek, the glaze of passion in his eyes unmistakable.

  Rough bark pressed uncomfortably into her back, but she wouldn’t have moved for anything. “Did you leave your polished manners back at the hotel along with your Italian-made suit?”

  Finally, his monumental self-control snapped. “Damn you,” he groaned. Like a man desperate for a lifeline, he took her mouth in a possessive kiss.

  Her legs weakened as his voracious hunger devoured her. This was the reaction she’d been seeking, but the reality was far more intense than she had expected. Pulling away from her only long enough to dump the picnic basket on the ground, he was back in a half second, capturing her head in two big hands and tilting her mouth to his so he could slide his tongue between her lips and stroke the inside of her mouth.

  Breathing was not all that important, she decided hazily. Her fingers clenched in his hair. “Please tell me you have condoms.”

  His answer was a muffled grunt that could have meant anything or nothing. She flinched when one of his hands slid beneath her shirt and shoved her bra aside to play with a taut nipple.

  “Seriously, Liam,” she said. “Do you?” They were rapidly reaching a point of no return. Her body was so primed, she would probably be embarrassingly quick off the mark the moment he entered her.

  Rearing back to look at her, he inhaled sharply. “You drive me insane,” he said, his brow creased as if in confusion. “We’re supposed to be exploring the great outdoors.”

  At that very moment, laughter and conversation reached them only seconds ahead of a large group of college-aged kids striding up the trail. There was barely time enough for Zoe to adjust her blouse and for Liam to take two quick steps backward.

  The group was boisterous, calling out greetings and joking comments and jostling for position. In a few moments, the cluster of hikers disappeared around a bend up ahead.

  Liam squeezed the bridge of his nose between his eyes. “Good Lord.”

  “Do you think they caught on?”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah.”

  “What do we do now? I don’t want to run into them again. It would be too embarrassing.”

  “I hate to waste those new boots.”

  “They’ll keep f
or another day.”

  “In that case, let’s go someplace quiet and private for our picnic.”

  Zoe straightened from the tree, assuming her legs could now hold her up. “What a lovely idea, Mr. Kavanagh. I’m in your hands.”

  “Not yet, but we’re getting there.”

  * * *

  Liam drove with purpose, eager to reach their destination. The spot was farther away than he had planned to go, but minus the hike, they had plenty of time. He glanced sideways at his passenger who was being unusually quiet. “You okay?”

  She nodded, her expression pensive. “Yes. Just enjoying the day.”

  He wished he knew what she was thinking, but women were complicated creatures, and Zoe more so than most. It wasn’t conceit to say he could have taken her up against the tree back there. Zoe had been every bit as into the moment as he had been. Now, however, she seemed a million miles away.

  At last, he spotted the sign he was looking for.

  She perked up when he turned off the highway. “What’s this?” she asked.

  “A good friend of mine owns a series of rustic cabins that he rents out only in the summer months. I have a standing invitation to use them off-season, complete with a key. There’s no electricity, but on a day like today, we won’t need it.”

  A few hundred yards up a gravel road he had to unlock a gate. After driving the Jag past the metal swing bar, he relocked the barrier. The cabins came into view around the next bend.

  Zoe got out of the car and examined the buildings. “These are cute,” she exclaimed. Her shirt had rucked up, exposing a smooth pale abdomen.

  Liam’s fingers clenched around his keys, hard enough to leave marks in his palm. He had to get ahold of himself. But Zoe’s innocent sexuality hit him hard, making him ache to have her. Pointing to the closest of the one-room structures as he put up the convertible top, he said, “The porch is covered. How about we sit over there to eat?”

  She nodded. “Perfect.”

  There was no outdoor furniture, but between them they managed to spread a square damask cloth on the floor of the porch. The chef had done himself proud. Fresh salmon drizzled with a light sauce, a broccoli salad, sourdough bread, and apple-caramel cake for dessert.

  Liam had added a bottle of expensive champagne. He popped the cork, filled two flutes, and handed one to Zoe.

  They sat on the edge of the porch, their legs dangling, and consumed an impressive amount of food in short order. He was glad to see that Zoe had a good appetite. She needed a few extra pounds to satisfy him that she was truly recovered.

  Though he knew the risk he was taking, he counted on the meal and the champagne to mellow her. “Will you tell me about your parents?” he asked quietly. “I would never betray your confidence.” But if he went any farther with this relationship, there couldn’t be secrets between them.

  She didn’t look at him, but he saw the way her jaw tightened. Resting one arm on an upraised knee, she sipped from a crystal flute, as comfortable as any princess at court.

  When she finally spoke, her gaze was trained somewhere off in the distance. “I know I can trust you. I wouldn’t have slept with you otherwise, but there’s not much to tell. My mother is a wraith of a woman who has no opinions or interests other than the ones my father approves.”

  “Is he abusive?” It was a legitimate question and one he needed answered.

  “It depends on how you define that word. Emotionally? Yes. He’s very controlling.”

  “So you butted heads when he realized you weren’t likely to let yourself be controlled.”

  “Very good. Go to the head of the class. When I left college, he was furious, but I was halfway around the world, so there wasn’t much he could do about it. After my stint in the Peace Corps, I continued to travel. I’ve waitressed in Rome, taught English in South America and done laundry in Thailand. Whatever it took to fund my adventures.”

  “You’re very resourceful.” He couldn’t help wondering how the platinum credit card and the money in her van fit into her explanation. “What was it like when you came home?”

  “My father thought the ball was finally in his court. I made the mistake of moving back into the house, because I had really missed my mother, and I felt guilty about leaving her under my father’s thumb unprotected.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “He began to pressure me into going to work for him. Having a child like me instead of the son he wanted was always a great disappointment in his eyes, but I suppose it finally dawned on him that his only offspring was better than nothing.”

  “It must have been nice to know your father wanted you.”

  She looked straight at him for the first time, and he was appalled by the bleak sorrow in her gaze. For one brief second he caught a glimpse of another Zoe. The woman who carried secrets and hurts hidden from the world. “No.” The negative was flat, no intonation. A statement of fact.

  “What is his business?”

  “Corporate greed. Crush the competition. Even without the specter of being under my father’s domination, it was not a world I ever wanted.”

  “And he didn’t take that well.”

  “Oh, no. Not at all. Things became unbearable in the house. My mother was caught in the middle, and the tension made her physically ill. I used to resent her for not standing up to him, but as I grew up, I finally understood that she is incapable of that. She had a wretched childhood. My father was her ticket out of a dreadful home environment. And he’s been her security ever since.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “I left. Again. That’s when I started my music career, if you can call it that. There were still plenty of places in the good ole U.S.A. that I hadn’t seen, so I went where the wind and the work took me.”

  “Is it lonely?” He genuinely wanted to know.

  She shrugged. “Being human is to be lonely. It’s a rare gift in life to find the person who completes you. Let’s just say that the good outweighed the bad. My mother and I still communicate. I bought her an iPhone she keeps hidden from my dad. We call and text when he’s out of town.”

  “I’m sorry, Zoe.”

  “I tried once more. I don’t want you to think I’m as stubborn as my father. This past Christmas, my mom begged me to come home for the holidays. I was feeling blue and orphaned, so I did.”

  “And?” Her story riveted him.

  “At first I thought we were mending fences. My father was on his best behavior. My mother actually glowed. There were parties and dinners, most of them business related, but still. On Christmas Eve, Dad called me into his office. I was expecting maybe a hug or a word of thanks for making my mother happy.”

  Liam saw the muscles in her throat work as she swallowed. A great ball of dread gathered in his chest, but he had asked the questions and now he had no recourse but to hear the tale to the end.

  “That wasn’t it?’

  Her lips twisted in a cynical grimace so unlike the Zoe he knew that it gave him a pain in his chest. “He backhanded me across the face. Hard. I was so shocked I didn’t know what to do. But he did all the talking. He told me he was sick to death of my immaturity and selfishness. That it was time to grow up and quit hiding behind my suitcase.”

  Liam’s chest heaved. He wanted to say something, but the wrong words could hurt her, and he would slice his own wrists before he would do that. “Go on,” he said softly.

  “He told me that he had a friend on the police force. If I didn’t cooperate with my father, I would be accused of stealing money from the safe in Dad’s office. I would be arrested and taken to jail.”

  “Goddammit.” Fury mixed with incredulity choked Liam and made it hard to breathe. Hard on the heels of that reaction was the sick realization that Zoe’s van was stashed with money. Lots of money.

  She had disappeared into some bad place, barely seeming to know he was there. “It was Christmas Eve,” she said dully, as if he might have forgotten that fact. “I slipped upstairs and
tried to explain to Mama why I couldn’t stay. But I didn’t tell her about his threat. I couldn’t. She cried so hard it ripped my heart in two. While my father was on the phone, I packed a small bag and slipped out the back of the house.”

  “He didn’t try to stop you or come after you?”

  “No. Not at first. But sometime in early March I began to get the feeling I was being followed. I would see someone in the audience watching me, someone who looked out of place. I’d have to slip away under cover of darkness. Again. And again.”

  “It could have been your imagination.” He was trying to convince himself that her story wasn’t as awful as it sounded. But then he remembered the mysterious man Pierre had intercepted. The man looking for Zoe.

  She shook her head. “Last week in Asheville I saw the same man. Twice. On the street. Following me on foot. That’s when I hit the road again and ended up in Silver Glen.”

  “So the man who showed up here and talked to Pierre was probably the same fellow?”

  “That would be my guess. And he’ll come back again. So I won’t be able to stay the whole six weeks. I can’t go back home and be arrested. And I can’t put your family through an ugly situation or a confrontation.”

  “That’s why you asked Gary to paint your van. Even though it didn’t need a paint job.”

  Shock lifted her eyebrows. “You and this Gary fellow must be bosom buddies. Remind me to pick another mechanic the next time.”

  There was a bite in her words, one he deserved. “I’m sorry.”

  “It doesn’t really matter now, does it?” She drained her champagne, her expression for once so inscrutable he had no clue what she was thinking.

  She curled her knees to her chest in a defensive posture, her arms linked around them. “If you brought me here to fool around, we’ve definitely killed the mood now, haven’t we?”

  Thirteen

  Zoe felt like a punctured balloon. Again, like the hospital experience weeks ago, she experienced the notion that life was using her for a punching bag. This day had begun with such effervescence and simple joy that it was particularly painful to be dragged to a place she’d tried so hard to escape.