by Cox, Zara
She’d texted back with a fuck off. Then she’d laid awake for hours expecting a response, hating herself for clutching her phone to her chest and jumping at each imaginary beep.
Now she slowly closed her door and stared at the flower. It wasn’t a replica of the one he’d given to her in Marrakech, thank God. She was barely holding it together as it was. She didn’t need another reminder of Marrakech. When she found herself trailing a finger over the sprawling Z, she shook her head and dropped the note on her coffee table.
Life. She needed to get one.
She changed into her jogging pants and tank top and pulled on her trainers. Tying her hair into a ponytail, she plugged in her iPod and tucked her keys into her hip pouch.
Vladimir, the Ukrainian daytime doorman smiled at her as she stretched in the foyer. “You have a good run, Miss Green.”
“Thanks, Vlad. It’s been a while. Hope I haven’t forgotten how.”
Two weeks ago, she’d been engaged in another, more mind blowing form of exercise. Her face flamed and she walked quickly to the swinging doors.
“You never forget how. Not that easily,” Vlad said.
She waved her thanks as he held the door open for her. She blinked as she walked out into the dappling sunlight.
The stretch town car wasn’t out of place in her relatively affluent East Village neighbourhood. All the same she found her footsteps slowing as she walked past it. It was driverless, with black-tinted windows that made it impossible to see inside. Aside from the high polish and silently opulent model, there was nothing distinctive about the car.
And yet…
She caught her reflection in the glass and realised she’d walked so close to it, she was in danger of looking like a total creep.
Turning, she hurried away and broke into a jog. After several minutes, the sound of her feet pounding the sidewalk slowly soothed her.
By the time she’d run a mile, Bethany was daring to believe she could rescue a few worthy crumbs from the pile of ashes her life had become. By the time she’d run two miles, she was daring to believe she could put Paris and Marrakech out of her mind some time before winter arrived in New York .
By the time she turned around and started back, her pounding heart was making the argument with her brain that one day she would forget that Zach Savage existed.
Bethany never found out which organ won the argument. She rounded the corner of her apartment block and jogged the last few meters, grateful that her body hadn’t let her down. And stumbled to a halt.
The town car was still parked in the same place but this time its occupant was very visible.
Mouth agape, heart racing, she watched Zach’s head turn to where she stood. Slowly he straightened from where he’d been leaning against the car.
From across the space between them, he stared at her with those mesmerizing eyes. Then his gaze slowly raked her from head to toe, lingering for several seconds at her breasts and hips. With depressingly eager enthusiasm, her body reacted to his stare, her pulse slamming higher, her nipples tightening into painful nubs as fire flared through her belly to heat her clit. She felt dirty in a delicious way, as only Zach could make her feel.
Hell, in that moment, feeling those eyes on her, even the sweat drenching her skin turned her on.
A wave of dizziness washed over her as she devoured him in turn, her senses jumping wildly at the sensual feast Zachary Savage offered.
“Hello, Bethany.”
Despite the high volume of Pink blaring The King Is Dead in her ear, she couldn’t mistake the low, dark voice. Or the distinct edge to it.
Or the fact that in the morning sunlight, his tall, arresting body was a sight her hopelessly deprived senses were lapping up with a greed that was truly frightening.
He wore an indigo shirt - God, the man could work that colour like no other - and dark blue jeans that rode low on his lean hips. Powerful thighs she remembered far too well bunched as he took a step toward her. His shirt was folded back to reveal his brawny forearms and his beautiful skin was thrown into stunning relief. He hadn’t lost the tan he’d acquired under the hot desert sun.
“What are you doing here?” She didn’t bother to ask him how he knew where she lived. The arrival of the flower this morning had reminded her that Zach knew most of the pertinent details of her life, thanks to the forms she’d filled out for the Indigo Lounge flight and also because, unlike him, she’d held nothing back during their short time together.
That admission of total access made her exhale noisily. She didn’t want to dwell on just how openly she’d shared her life with him and how much less she’d received in return. Now wasn’t the time. Right now, she needed to get her roiling emotions under control.
“Are you really surprised to see me? You knew this was inevitable.” Dark grey eyes rested on her, watched her with an intensity she’d thought she’d imagined but was rudely reminded was very real. “Did you get my delivery?”
Pink raged on the truth about love. She pulled out the earphones and left them dangling uselessly from her side. “I got the flower. And I got the note. That changes nothing.”
A hard smile curved his lips. “I didn’t expect it to. I just wanted you to know how I was feeling.”
“Why? So I can feel sorry for you? You’re thinking about me. Big deal. I thought about you too. I thought about how I never want to see you again. I made that very clear in Morocco.”
His jaw tightened and he folded strong, muscled arms across his chest. She tried very hard not to stare at the silky dark hairs that coated those arms. To remember how much she’d loved to run her hand up and down the bunched strength of it. How they felt banded around her waist as he pounded into her.
“Baby, you don’t mean that,” he said quietly. “I refuse to accept that you mean that.”
“I know you make your own rules. Ones that don’t apply to us lesser mortals. But please do me the courtesy of at least pretending to think that I know my own mind, Zach.”
He regarded her for several seconds before he tapped on the front window. It wound down smoothly to reveal Philip, Zach’s driver, bodyguard and Bethany imagined, all round Mr Fix-It. Philip looked her way and nodded his greeting. Then he picked up a Styrofoam tray containing two large coffees and a bag with a familiar bakery logo on it.
“What’s that?”
“Breakfast. I missed you leaving for your run when I popped round the block to get it earlier. I got you a fresher cup a few minutes ago. Invite me up, Bethany.”
Her gaze snapped back to him. “Hell no!” Her voice emerged screechier than she’d intended. Simply because the effect of seeing Zach again had hammered home the fact that she was still on precariously shaky ground where her feelings for him were concerned. Inviting him up to her apartment was inviting trouble and temptation to feast on her already ravaged heart.
“Fine. Have dinner with me tonight.”
“I have other plans.”
His jaw clenched and he walked slowly to where she’d stumbled into immobility five minutes ago. When they were inches apart, he stopped. “Plans. Who with?” he grated, his tone icy and commanding.
“None of your business,” she replied, struggling not to inhale his hauntingly familiar scent like a bloodhound on a juicy trail. Her gaze reached the pulse throbbing in his neck and warmth shamelessly flooded her mouth.
“Tell me who you’re going out with, Bethany.”
She raised her head and glared at him. “Go away, Zach.”
“Christ,” he muttered. “How did I not know you were this stubborn?”
“Because as much as you like to think otherwise, you don’t know everything about me.”
His face hardened. “I know you’re not stupid enough to go out with another guy when you still belong to me.” Her gasp got lost in the morning air because he was still speaking. “No matter how much you think you hate me right now, you’re still mine and I’m not letting you go. I never will. I’m telling you that right now so
we’re both clear on the matter and there’s no room for misinterpretation. Nod if you understand what I’m saying to you.”
Her head moved before she gave it permission to and Bethany exhaled roughly, ready to kick her own ass for that weak slip.
“I guess that will have to be enough for now,” he rasped. He continued to stare down at her for a full minute, his eyes raking over her face and her body with a hunger that threatened to flatten her where she stood.
Finally, he held out the bakery bag to her. The scent of sugared pastry rose to tease her nostrils. She was fast reaching her breaking point. Seeing him again felt like being plugged into an electric socket with the voltage racing higher by the second. She risked a full-body electrocution if she didn’t retreat fast.
“If I take this will you go away?” she ventured bravely.
His eyes narrowed further. “I’m hanging on by a fucking thread here, baby, so don’t push me. Take the food,” he instructed.
She took the bag and the coffee cup he held out to her. With both hands full, she couldn’t stop him when he reached out and traced his thumb over her lower lip. It tingled and trembled before she bit desperately on it and jerked her head away.
His eyes darkened and he made a rough sound under his breath.
“Drink some water first before you drink the coffee. And next time you run, take some water with you. It’s July in New York for fuck’s sake. I don’t want you stroking out on some street corner because you’re careless with your health.”
She really needed to get out of here. “Are you done?”
His fingers twitched again as if he wanted to touch her.
“Not nearly. I’ll call you in twenty minutes. Make sure you pick up.”
Every nerve in her body screamed in anticipation even as she raised her chin. “Or what?”
“Or I’ll just turn around and come back here. You have no idea how much it hurts to be this close to you and not take you in my arms and show you how much I’ve missed you. But I’m playing by your rules for now. So throw me a fucking bone, Bethany. Pick up the phone when I call. Or I will come back. And if you think that puny excuse of a doorman I can see glaring at me from in there is going to stop me, think again.”
With one last, intense look, he took two steps back and pulled the back door open. She didn’t want to watch him leave. She swore she wouldn’t do it as she turned and walked quickly toward the swinging doors.
And yet, as Vlad moved forward and held the door open for her, she found herself looking over her shoulder.
His eyes were riveted on her. When they dropped to her ass, she saw his grip clench hard on the door. His gaze reconnected with hers and the stark, fiery hunger on his face slammed into her so hard she moaned.
She rushed indoors and stumbled toward the elevator, nodding jerkily at Vlad’s concerned query if she was all right. She was still shuddering long after she was back in her apartment, her body screaming with all the emotions rampaging through her.
He called exactly twenty minutes later. Freshly showered and sipping the last of the delicious freshly ground coffee, she told herself she was answering so he would leave her alone and not return to shatter her peace of mind.
“I’ve answered your call. Can I go now?”
“No, you can’t. You sent me away when I wanted to lick every fucking drop of sweat off your gorgeous body. Now I have a hard on that won’t subside and an appointment in five minutes. You’ll pay for that, Peaches.”
Her breath caught at his dark promise. Desperately, she tried to think of anything else besides Zach’s cock and what form her punishment would take.
This man had turned her life upside down with a revelation that should make her run a thousand miles away...he continued to devastate her with his silence while blatantly disregarding the fact that she considered them over.
And yet her heart and body craved him with a hunger that defied reason. Despair warred with anger inside her and still she hung on, her pulse hammering and waited to hear that deep, gravel-rough voice again.
“Did you eat yet?” he asked.
“Yes.” She’d devoured the cream-filled pastry within minutes of entering her apartment. Stress eating had never felt so good and the deep shame she’d felt afterward was well worth it.
“Good.” Satisfaction reeked in his voice.
“What kind of appointment do you have on a Saturday?” she asked before she could stop herself.
“I’m apartment hunting. I’m seeing four today. I could use your help if you want to come meet me?”
Several thoughts tumbled through her mind but the one that lit like a neon sign in her brain was - Zach was staying in New York. Yeah, big deal. It changed nothing. Their problems still loomed as large and would remain insurmountable until Zach got the message - that open communication was non-negotiable. “I told you I have other plans.”
“Tell me about these plans.”
“Why?”
“Because I need something to take my mind off the fact that my dick is about to explode and you’re not next to me,” he rasped. “That I’m missing you madly and you won’t give me the time of day.”
Heat cannoned into her belly then detonated outward. “I’m meeting Keely for lunch. Then she’s taking me shopping for tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“We’re going out for my birthday.”
Silence echoed ominously down the phone. “Your birthday’s not till tomorrow.”
“I’m seeing my parents tomorrow so we’re celebrating tonight.”
“You were supposed to celebrate with me.”
“Yeah, we both know how that worked out.”
He sighed. “It doesn’t have to be this way. What time are you seeing your parents?”
“They’re taking me to lunch.”
“So we can still spend tomorrow evening together.”
Her heart lurched. “No. We can’t, Zach. Not if we’re going to ignore the herd of elephants in the room.”
“We will fix this, Bethany.”
“I can’t see how, not without discussing what needs to be discussed.”
His breath hissed out. “So you’re saying everything that came before means nothing to you?”
Pain ripped through her insides. “Of course not. But I can’t ignore what came afterward. I have so many questions, Zach, not just that one question you won’t answer.”
“Ask me one of them,” he grated out.
The tense invitation shocked her into silence for a handful of seconds. Then, heart thundering, she gripped the phone tighter. “Okay. Why did you take me to Marrakech? Of all the places in the world you could’ve taken me, why there? We both know that place means more to you than just a house. So why did you take me there, Zach?”
He exhaled harshly. “My answer won’t please you.”
She licked dry lips. “Try it anyway.”
“I needed to put some ghosts to rest.”
Cryptic as ever. “Zach—”
“Remember what I said when we were there, that you were a risk I knew I was taking?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what usually happens when I feel that way?”
“No.”
“I walk away. I only take calculated risks in business. My personal life before I met you was based on one thing. Sex, on my terms. That went out the window the moment I saw you. But I still took the risk.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m still taking the risks now. Some of the answers you need we can work through. We don’t need to be apart to do that.”
Her heart lurched. “Some? What if I said I want to know everything? I want to know about Farrah? What if I said that’s the only way I’ll contemplate us moving forward?”
Tense silence. “I’d ask you to rethink that.”
“Why?”
“Because you told me you loved me. And that you’d give me time. Or did you lie?”
Scalding tears welled in her eyes. Angrily sh
e brushed them away. “You bastard,” she croaked, her whole body going numb.
His breath hissed out. “Fuck. Bethany—”
“No. Enough, Zach. Enough.” She hung up.
Chapter Five
Zach absently tuned in to the realtor yammer on about south facing versus west facing lighting, Poggenpohl kitchens and parquet floors and tried to stem the panic flaring through him.
He pressed the call button again and listened as the call went straight to voicemail.
The message he wanted to leave couldn’t be said out loud in the presence of the realtor and Philip who hovered a few steps behind him.
“As you can see, the floor to ceiling views are rather special,” the realtor continued. Blonde, in her late twenties, she’d been doing her best to catch his eye since they met downstairs ten minutes ago. Impatience crawled over him as he struggled to keep the frown from his face.
“The space is ideal for entertaining, and has the perfect blend of home and office. And the square footage is one of the largest on our books at the moment. The specially selected concierge…”
Zach bit back a sharp retort, blocked her out, and forced himself to look around properly. As his needs went, the duplex was more than adequate, with a large office complete with the meeting room he’d specifically demanded. Setting up here for the foreseeable future shouldn’t be a problem. And out of the four properties he planned to view today, this was the closest to Bethany’s place in the East Village. Which made it a no brainer, really.
“I’ll take it,” he said abruptly. “On condition that I can move in immediately.” He fingered the call button again, desperately hoping that Bethany would pick up this time.
The realtor’s face lit up with pleasure. “Oh…that’s great, Mr Savage. Yes of course to moving in immediately. I’ll draw up the papers. Umm,” she started to move toward him and Zach noted her hips had taken on a sexier sway, “we also offer a remodeling service if you need it, with highly sought after designers—”
