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Truth?
She was still weak. And she was still half in love with him.
She heard the series of interruptions signalling Jasper was getting another call, but again he ignored it.
‘We both owe him, Zara.’
She closed her eyes against the emotional manipulation. So many times that had been used against her. But this time was different. Because this time she did owe.
Tomas. Everything.
‘I know,’ she said softly.
‘Stay until I get there.’
‘Yes,’ she agreed. Defeated.
‘Is that Jasper you’re talking to?’
She jumped at the question that cracked across the room like a bullwhip. Tomas stood in the kitchen doorway, looking furious, his own mobile phone in his hand. How long had he been standing there? What had he heard?
Then it hit her. She was staring at her husband.
‘Zara?’
She didn’t answer Jasper’s sharp query because in two steps Tomas was across the room and had snatched the phone from her limp fingers.
‘Never ignore my calls,’ he said furiously into her phone to Jasper, not taking his eyes off her.
She heard Jasper’s immediate reply. She hadn’t got that apologetic deferential tone from him. The grim look on Tomas’s face deepened as Jasper muttered something else she couldn’t hear because now her mind whirled at the implication of Jasper’s words.
She was still married to Tomas. She was his wife. She quivered as a frisson of intimacy that she had no right to feel skittered down her spine.
She’d always been too aware of him, too attracted, too ready to say yes.
Now she was here in this huge house alone with him and while he might have no clue about the truth, that didn’t mean he wasn’t totally, utterly in control.
And she wasn’t. Not of herself. Not of those stupid yearnings she’d felt when he—and only he—was near. She’d been too isolated. Too inexperienced. Too insecure.
She licked her lips nervously as she watched his anger flare at Jasper.
At totally the wrong moment that one precious memory slipped its leash to torment her.
* * *
‘You can’t sleep?’
She shook her head, feeling her colour mount because he’d found her awake and alone at two in the morning, pacing the corridor outside her hotel room like an undead wraith unable to rest. She stopped outside her door, her bare toes curling into the carpet, and half hoped he’d just pass by and leave her to her own agony.
She had the most massive crush on him. How could she not? He was gorgeous and kind and mesmerising. And he’d helped her.
She knew the crush was mostly gratitude—she was confusing desire with appreciation. Their wedding that afternoon wasn’t real in any way. He’d said it would be annulled in a couple of days once she was safely back in England. So this awareness of him could just die a death.
‘And you’re a bit scared?’ Tomas asked with a gentle smile. ‘I remember when I left Italy with nothing but the clothes I was wearing, I was scared, but it was an adventure.’
Her surprise grew; he’d become this successful from absolutely nothing? ‘How did you make it?’
‘Hard work. Determination.’ He shrugged as he stepped closer until he was right in front of her. ‘You have skills, you have more resources than you know. You’re going to be fine.’ He tilted her chin and looked into her eyes with a small smile. ‘And your uncle was wrong, you know. You’re very attractive.’
His lips brushed hers in the lightest gesture of support—and finality.
She screwed her eyes shut, her humiliation total. Her first ever kiss had come from her first lethal crush, and it had been born of compassion.
‘Please don’t pity me,’ she muttered, then forced herself to look at him. ‘I am going to be fine.’ She echoed his words, drawing strength from them. Determined to believe they would be the truth.
His eyes were only millimetres from hers, bottomless, unreadable, so beautiful and for a timeless moment all she could do was drown in them.
‘I know,’ he answered, his voice suddenly roughened.
And to her surprise, he quickly bent and brushed his lips over hers ever so lightly again. Without volition she parted her lips, lifting her chin so the sweet contact lingered just for a fraction longer. She closed her eyes to hold onto the magic. And then everything changed.
He was back, his mouth moving over hers more firmly. Then more so again. She quivered, stifling a gasp when his tongue slid between her teeth, searching out her secrets. It felt foreign, but it felt so good as he stroked her that she simply leaned into him.
She heard a low growl in the back of his throat as his arms came around her. He kissed her again. She opened more for him; she couldn’t not. And she sought the same knowledge, darting her tongue to tangle with his, to push past and explore him. A wave of emotion rose in her, tearing apart the veneer of fear and releasing an intense desire that had never before been roused. It was so raw and new she had no hope of either containing or controlling it. Instinctively she knew that her response inflamed him too—the kiss grew more passionate. She wound her arms around his neck, curling her fingers in the hair at the back of his neck. Her action bringing her body into full contact with his—her breasts pressed against his hard chest. Spasms of awareness shot from her taut nipples to the depths of her most private parts. It was shocking and delightful all at once and she simply didn’t know what to do other than press closer and closer still.
This wasn’t gratitude. This wasn’t anything as easy as that. This was a desperate meeting of two spirits that had suddenly curled together and couldn’t be forced apart. She moaned as that fire inside built to an unbearable temperature. She needed something more...
But all of a sudden he wrenched his lips from hers. She gasped in disappointment, but then clamped her mouth shut as embarrassment crashed down on her.
There was an unreadable expression in his eyes as he pulled her arms from where she’d wound them round his neck. She had to lean back against the wall for support as he put three feet of distance between them.
Oh, Lord, she’d been clinging to him. She closed her eyes tightly to hide from him. She wanted to apologise but she couldn’t. She was trembling too much to summon coherent speech.
She heard the sound of her hotel-room door opening and she opened her eyes in a flash. But he’d stepped back from it and wasn’t looking at her as he crisply ordered her to bed.
‘You’d better try to sleep now, you have a long journey tomorrow.’
Alone.
* * *
As if she could ever sleep after that. Her husband had kissed her—meaning nothing but a little comfort—but she’d succumbed so totally, tumbling into a heady fantasy of fate.
That fantasy had been hers alone. He’d almost wordlessly walked away, unable to even look at her. And her humiliation was complete all over again.
She closed her eyes briefly now to force the burning memory back into its padlocked box. And she bit down on her lip to stop that pulse of desire tormenting her.
Not now. Not ever.
He’d never been hers in
that way. And now he never could be.
* * *
Tomas gripped Zara’s phone, his annoyance burning brighter as he looked at how pale she now was. What had Jasper been saying to her?
There was an almost beseeching look in her sea-green eyes, as if she was wordlessly asking for something. Asking for—
He didn’t want to know what it was. He could never give her it anyway.
He had nothing to give anyone.
But now he had a woman before him looking so damnably beautiful. And alone. Looking as if she needed comfort. And contact. And—
He turned on his heel and stalked out of the kitchen.
‘Leave your playgirls in London,’ he growled in a low voice. ‘I have too much to do for this distraction.’
‘You always have too much to do and not all distractions are bad,’ Jasper tried to joke.
But Tomas wasn’t in the mood. ‘Why did you send her to me?’ he barked as he braved the rain to get her bag from the car. The car was cheap and not in the best condition and he was surprised it had got her here safely. Her bag wasn’t heavy; she obviously hadn’t planned to stay long.
‘Because you shouldn’t be alone for weeks at a time.’
Tomas snorted. Being alone was exactly how he liked it. As it was he hadn’t been going to be alone for long enough. ‘The Kilpatricks will be back next week.’
‘You don’t exactly let them into your life.’
Tomas paused. How did Jasper know that? Did he get them to report to him? He was livid at the intrusion—well-intentioned or not. ‘Don’t interfere, Jasper. Work is all that matters.’
‘Haven’t you proved that already?’ Jasper argued quietly. ‘The company is more successful now than it ever has been. No one can believe the way you’ve pushed it on this last year...isn’t it time you had a break and took care of other aspects of your life?’
‘There are no other aspects,’ Tomas snapped. ‘And there never have been. You know it as well as I.’ That was how he liked it and wanted it. ‘I pay you for your legal advice and nothing more. If you want me to keep paying you, then I suggest you stick to the books.’
