by Maisey Yates
Him. Zoe felt exposed again when she thought about focusing on his face that day two weeks ago.
His gaze lingered on her face now, intent. He looked at her scars. But, disconcertingly, like the last time, it didn’t bother her as much as it had when she’d noticed people clocking them as they’d taken drinks from her tray at the event just now.
He was waiting for her response.
She sighed. ‘I made an impulsive decision to sneak into the show when the opportunity presented itself. I’ve never been to a fashion show before, and they fascinate me. I was hoping that I might make some contacts with other photographers...break into the industry somehow. That’s all.’
‘You want to do fashion photography?’
Zoe squirmed a little. She’d never really articulated this to anyone before. ‘It’s something I’ve always been interested in, yes. But there’s no way I’m remotely qualified.’
‘Meanwhile you’re working as a waitress?’
She shrugged self-consciously. ‘Among other things—childminding, cleaning offices, teaching English to refugees... Although I’m not paid to do that.’ She stopped talking, suddenly aware that she was babbling about her peripatetic career. And to Maks Marchetti, who must be one of the richest people on the planet.
Suddenly awkward, she stepped back. ‘Thank you for the apology. I’m sure you’re required back inside. I should get going.’ Zoe turned around.
‘Wait.’
She stopped. Her heart was beating out of time. She felt breathless.
Maks Marchetti came and stood in front of her. To her surprise he said, ‘Can we start again?’ He held out a hand. ‘I’m Maks Marchetti.’
Zoe knew she should just her head and step around him, saying something about having to get home and then put him out of her mind for good. But at that moment he smiled, and her breathlessness turned into asphyxiation. All good intentions turned to dust.
She had no defence for a smiling Maks Marchetti.
He’d been gorgeous from the moment she’d laid eyes on him, but he’d been aloof, and then condemnatory. Intimidating. She hadn’t actually seen him smile. Not even when he’d been across the room at the event with that woman. But now he was smiling and he was...utterly irresistible.
Zoe had to force herself to breathe. She was feeling dizzy. And against every better judgement she found herself putting out her hand before she could stop herself. ‘Zoe Collins. I’m Zoe Collins.’
Marchetti wrapped his hand around hers and that jolt of electricity zinged up her arm and into her blood. This time she didn’t pull away. She couldn’t.
He said, ‘Zoe. It suits you. It’s spiky.’
That gave Zoe the impetus to pull away. She almost cradled her hand to her body, as if she’d been burned. The air between them was charged. Zoe barely noticed people passing by. Traffic on the street. The warm early autumn evening. The dusky sky.
Her mouth tipped up ruefully. ‘I’m not normally spiky. You seem to bring out the worst in me.’
Marchetti’s smile faded. ‘You lost your job because of me.’
Zoe made a face. ‘It’s not that big a deal, I only did a few jobs for them a month—if I was lucky.’
He looked at her for a long moment. And then he said, ‘Still, I’d like to make it up to you. Will you join me for a drink?’
Copyright © 2020 by Abby Green
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ISBN-13: 9781488068829
His Majesty’s Forbidden Temptation
Copyright © 2020 by Maisey Yates
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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