Zach dialed Billy and let him know about the change in plans, then he called Marcy.
“Mr. Ruiz. Always nice to speak to you after ten p.m.”
Shit. He checked his watch. “Sorry, Marcy. I lost track of the time.”
“I assume you’re on your way back to the city?”
“Well, no, actually. Jenna—Miss Taylor—and I made it to the hotel, and I’m just getting her settled in. She hasn’t eaten all day.”
There was silence on the other end of the line. He looked at the screen to see if the call had dropped. “Marcy?”
“Can you repeat that last part?” she asked after a long pause.
He was confused. “That I’m getting Miss Taylor settled in and making sure she eats something before heading back?”
“Yes, that.”
“What’s not clear?”
“You’re not exactly the nurturing type, Mr. Ruiz.”
She had a point. “I’m not a monster, either.”
“Did you forget about the Tower Media prep session you scheduled for first thing in the morning?”
“No, of course not.” Absolutely, it had slipped his mind. And this planning meeting with his team was important. Tower Media was prepared to give Zach all their business. He’d been working on it for over a year. “I’ll be back in time. I’ll leave here in an hour, after we eat. Two hours, tops.”
Silence again.
“What?” he asked, a little sharper than intended.
“Sleeping with Mr. Hansen’s fiancé might seem like perfect revenge, but it’s a little thoughtless, even for you.”
“Ex-fiancé. And I’m not sleeping with her.” His jaw tightened. “You think I’d do that to her? For revenge?”
“No. But you’re not always very sympathetic to the needs of others, either. That’s why I’m confused.”
“I just…” Marcy had a good point. Why was he doing so much to help Jenna? He could have dropped her at a hotel. He could have dropped her at the airport. Hell, he could even have sent her on his plane without going through the bother of accompanying her himself, especially given that he had a big pitch to prepare for.
“I just couldn’t leave her alone,” he said finally.
“I see.”
Zach couldn’t tell from Marcy’s tone exactly what she “saw,” but it annoyed him anyway.
“I’ll see you in the morning, Marcy.”
“Good night, Mr. Ruiz.”
Was he thoughtless? He didn’t think so. He was driven to make his business a success. Maybe even teetering on the edge of obsessed sometimes. He didn’t really think about other people very much—not that there were many people in his life to worry about anyway. He had few friends outside of work, and his parents and siblings lived across the country. But it wasn’t like he was actively an asshole to his staff. Well, other than calling them at home at weird hours.
Zach ordered the food, refusing to use the ridiculous names, then sat down on the sofa and pulled Jenna’s itinerary out of his pocket. He read down the list of activities. Couples’ yoga, couples’ massage, private candlelight dinner on the beach, a sunset photo session. Couples’ towel-animal making…what the hell was that? Some sort of sewing class? Were these activities private or were they going to be packed to the gills with newlywed couples?
Zach was a fool. How the hell was Jenna going to spend a week among happy newlyweds doing all the sappy couples’ stuff when she was trying to get over not actually being wed? He should have taken her somewhere else. Somewhere that wasn’t going to remind her of wedded bliss. Tulsa, maybe. Nobody ever thought “romance” when they thought “Tulsa.” But no, he hadn’t stopped to think, and now she had to spend a week nursing a broken heart at honeymoon hell. Alone.
This was exactly why he didn’t get involved in peoples’ personal lives. He only made things worse.
Zach looked at the stupid list again before wadding it up. Jenna didn’t need that. She needed something to take her mind off of things and make her feel okay about not being a newlywed. What, he didn’t know. Burying himself in work had always been his favorite coping mechanism, but he didn’t even know what Jenna did for a living, if anything. He didn’t know what her hobbies were, or her passions.
Why was he obsessing about this?
None of this was any of his business. Zach didn’t know what had happened to make Jenna leave Elliot at the altar, whether it was just that she’d changed her mind or whether he’d done something specific that made it impossible for Jenna to go ahead with the wedding. But she seemed determined that she definitely did not want to marry Elliot. No dithering, which Zach liked. When hurt, some people curled in on themselves and retreated from life. Others took it as a personal challenge, and it made them stronger and more determined to grab what they wanted from life. Jenna was the latter. She’d be just fine on her own. After a week here, he’d be willing to bet she’d come roaring back.
Zach would have dinner with her, wish her luck, and go back to his data and remember the next time he had an urge to help someone that getting involved was messy and unpleasant and in the end made things worse.
Chapter Six
“Nobody ever eats at weddings,” Jenna said, setting her sandwich on the plate. Despite the name, it was actually really good, and after only half, she was getting full. “At least the bride and groom don’t get to. I’m just glad the reception food didn’t go to waste.”
They were sitting at a small table the room service guy had wheeled in. Jenna was in the big fluffy hotel robe with her clean hair wrapped turban style in a towel and her face scrubbed free of all the makeup. She was starting to feel like herself again instead of a little girl playing dress-up.
Zach still looked dangerously like a luxury watch model in his wrinkled and partially unbuttoned tux shirt. The sexy five o’clock shadow that now shaded his jaw was just overkill.
“Did Elliot have it all packed in Tupperware in case you changed your mind?”
“No,” she said, realizing she hadn’t filled him in on her conversation with Niki. “He didn’t cancel anything. The reception went on without me.”
Zach stared at her. “You’re kidding.”
She shook her head. “Probably because the magazine people were there. Why ruin a good photo opportunity just because you’re down one bride?”
“Damn. That’s cold.”
“It was an impossible circumstance, really. No matter what he decided, it would have been awkward. At least everyone got a meal.”
Jenna didn’t know why Zach seemed to be Team Jenna when Elliot was his friend, but it was nice to have an ally. And Zach was easy to talk to, especially when he wasn’t doing the smolder thing. She was glad he’d suggested dinner because she was hungrier than she’d thought, and if he hadn’t been here, she would have gone to bed and woken up with a terrible headache.
“Did he cut the cake, too?”
“I have no idea. Maybe.” That thought didn’t bother her as much as it maybe should have. She took another bite of her sandwich and couldn’t stifle a sigh of pure pleasure.
“That good?”
“You don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve eaten bread.”
“How long?”
“Since Elliot proposed six months ago,” she said and fished her napkin out of her lap to wipe salt and grease on it. “And I realized I’d be in front of people. In a figure-skimming designer wedding gown.”
Zach set his ginormous triple-decker burger down. “Why do women do that?”
“What? Diet?”
“That’s the first thought you women have whenever a big event is about to happen.” He said it almost like women were a mysterious species and he was trying to figure out some of their habits. The Jane Goodall of the human female.
“Fashion favors the thin,” she said with a shrug. “They don’t make des
igner gowns in plus size.”
“Nobody wants a stick figure,” Zach said. “Men like curves.”
“Not all men,” she said quietly, putting the napkin back in her lap. She was never going to be the size two required to look like the model in the drawing of the gown Elliot and the designer had come up with. She had hips and breasts and thighs that guaranteed that.
She didn’t want to examine too closely that, with just a couple of words, Zach made her feel more desirable than Elliot had in all the time they’d been together.
“I’ve been on mostly salad for months,” she said. “No dressing, no croutons, and definitely no bacon bits. Some days, I fantasized about the reception just because of the food.”
“The food you weren’t going to get to eat?”
“Yeah.” She grinned. “But I’m eating now. And I’m in carb paradise.”
Zach’s phone beeped, and although he glanced at it, he didn’t pick it up.
“You can get that,” she said. “I know you’re probably blowing off work to be here with me.”
“I’d planned to prepare for a meeting, but it’s fine.” He looked at his phone again and frowned. “It’s Marcy,” he said, looking at the screen. “I’d better see what she needs.”
He left the table and went out on the back deck to make his call. It was nothing new. If it was just the two of them for a quiet dinner at home, Elliot would often spend the whole meal staring at his phone screen. She’d once joked that she was going to tape his phone to her forehead so it would feel like he was talking to her during their meal. He wasn’t amused and had pointed out that they lived together and talked all the time. Which was sort of true if talking meant his asking Jenna if she’d paid a certain bill or sent his tux out for dry cleaning. Oh, they chatted about other stuff, too. She was sure of it. She pushed her plate away; she couldn’t eat another bite.
Fatigue overwhelmed her suddenly. Had it really only been this morning that she had woken up excited for her wedding day, sure that Elliot was the man she would spend her life with? It seemed like a lifetime ago. She’d anticipated arriving at the resort with Elliot, having a champagne toast, a romantic dinner with just the two of them talking about the day and their future, and then starting off their married life with a wedding night to remember, thanks to the lingerie.
Well, it was one to remember all right. But the lingerie would stay in her suitcase, tags still attached.
The room felt too quiet without Zach in it, Jenna realized. Just like it would be for the next two weeks. Although she’d spent the bulk of the last few years alone, she actually didn’t do “alone” very well. It had been hard to give up the house her parents had left her, but she’d been thrilled to move in with Elliot. Just having someone around when she came home or wanted to talk was great. So maybe he wasn’t much of a talker since he worked all the time, but he was there. Sometimes.
Zach came back, frowning.
“Everything all right?”
“I think so. Just a change of plans for tomorrow.”
Oh, geez. Her drama had probably messed up his agenda. “You can go if you need to,” she said. “I’m fine here.”
“Actually, I’m going to need to crash on your couch, if you don’t mind,” Zach said. “Or I can try to find another hotel room.”
“After all you’ve done for me today? Of course you can have the sofa,” she said, and she wouldn’t even pretend she wasn’t a little relieved that she wasn’t going to be alone just yet. “Take the bed, if you want. I’m tired enough to sleep anywhere.”
“The sofa is fine, thanks.”
“Is there a problem with Billy or the plane?”
“I wouldn’t say it’s a problem, exactly, but we’re not flying tonight.”
He didn’t elaborate further. He just had that crease between his brows that meant he was thinking again and not coming up with an answer he liked.
“I’m sure there’s an extra blanket or something,” she said, getting up from the table. Jenna gathered her leftovers and his and put them in the small fridge in the kitchen area then went in search of a blanket. “Best I can do is a sheet and a couple pillows,” she said when she had finished rooting around in the closet.
“That’ll work. Thanks.”
“Here, let me make up the sofa for you.”
“I’ve got it.” Zach took the sheets and pillows from her. He was close. Close enough for the male scent of him to remind her that she was spending what was supposed to be her wedding night in her cabana with a man who was not her groom. And that the non-groom was a man who many women would have been rolling around on the bearskin rug with by now. Or at least fantasizing about it.
“You should go to bed, Jenna,” he said.
His voice was soft, all trace of joking long gone. Was it her imagination or did he seem to be breathing deeper, too?
The open V of his tux shirt exposed smooth skin with a smattering of hair and a hint of pec peeking out.
“Jenna.”
She looked up and found his dark, intense gaze focused on her face. She was pretty sure he knew what she was thinking. Jenna also suspected he might be thinking the same thing. Naughty, naked things that would send the rose petals scattered across her bed’s quilt flying. She looked at his lips, wondering if he kissed with the same intensity contained in The Smolder. A kiss that would make a woman forget about everything else. Was he the type who eased in slowly, teasing and seducing kiss by kiss with his lips and tongue and touch or the type who immediately possessed, stealing a woman’s will to do anything but submit totally and completely and thank baby Jesus it was happening to her?
She swallowed hard, her lips suddenly dry.
“Jenna,” he said again. And this time it almost sounded like he was in pain.
She stepped back, her pulse slamming through her veins like she’d just done a mile on the treadmill. What the hell was she doing? She’d been wearing another man’s ring this morning. Less than twenty-four hours ago. And now? Now she was at a romantic resort with another man thinking thoughts about him that made her forget she’d almost married another man earlier in the day—like that whole Elliot thing had been some sort of dream, but now she was wide awake again.
Or maybe she was malnourished and sleep deprived and her poor brain was finally waving the white flag.
“Yeah. I’ll just go to bed—to sleep—now.” She forced herself to turn away, walk to the bed, turn back the covers, and climb in, still wearing the robe and the towel turban.
Jenna squeezed her eyes closed, trying, and failing, not to be hyperaware of his every movement—spreading the sheet on the sofa. Fluffing up the pillows and tossing them on top of the sheet. Locking the door. Turning out the lights. Getting a glass of water from the kitchenette and drinking it. Sitting on the couch to remove his shoes then lying back on the sofa and pulling the sheet over himself. No rustle of clothing, so he hadn’t removed his shirt or pants, she was pretty sure.
Maybe, like Jenna, he needed an insurance policy against initiating something that, given she was Elliot’s runaway bride and he was Elliot’s friend, would be a Very Bad Idea.
Eventually, Zach’s breathing evened. The only other sounds were the gentle purr of the air conditioning and the very faint sounds of the ocean on the other side of the sliding door at the back of the hut. Moonlight streamed through those windows, spilling a long patch of white light on the floor.
Jenna’s body was exhausted and her ribs ached, probably aftereffects of the Python. But her mind would not power down. She tried deep breathing. She tried meditation. She tried counting the number of palm leaves in the wallpaper. She tossed. She turned. And finally she gave in to all the worrisome thoughts she’d told herself all day she’d think about “tomorrow.” Well, tomorrow was here and she was a bitch. Jenna much preferred her more comfortable little sister, Denial.
What was El
liot doing? Was he heartbroken and alone? Drinking his tears away at their wedding reception or alone in their apartment? Was he wondering if Jenna was safe? Wondering if she was coming home? Formulating a plot to win her back? Or was he mad as hell and currently burning all her clothing and books in the penthouse’s fireplace, erasing all evidence of her from his life?
And what was Jenna going to do now that she’d completely blown up her life? Getting over the wedding-that-wasn’t would be easier than figuring out the rest. Number one, she’d need a place to live. She’d sold her parents’ home when she’d moved in with Elliot—pretty much the only thing left after she settled all their debts, as it turned out. They’d lived a fairly privileged life in a big house, but when Jenna had sat down with the family attorney, she’d learned that her parents had racked up a huge amount of debt the last few years, and they’d had no life insurance. By the time all of that had been taken care of, there wasn’t a lot left.
She’d have to start looking for a new place as soon as she got back and, assuming her things were not ashes in the fireplace, arrange to pack up and move. She had a little money left from the sale of the house, but now that she was going to be a household of one, she was going to have to look for a job that paid a living wage. She didn’t even want to think about the credit cards she’s used to pay for the honeymoon and a few of the other wedding things.
What about that gown? And all the wedding gifts? She’d have to arrange for them all to be returned. At least she wouldn’t have to tell very many people what had happened. Most of the guest list had been Elliot’s friends and business associates. Niki and her parents were her only family in attendance. And Aggie, Tommy, and the others already knew she’d flaked out.
Jenna rolled over again, and the towel on her head came loose. She pulled it off, fluffed her pillows, and lay back down.
The patch of moonlight had gotten smaller, telling her the moon was higher in the sky now and she’d been lying there for quite some time, exhausted, but still wide awake.
Zach shifted on the sofa. She was probably keeping him awake, too.
The Anti-Honeymoon Page 5
