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Rachel was putting the finishing touches to her make-up when Zac arrived at the flat that evening. She heard Jennie or Susan let him in and then the sound of voices and laughter from the sitting room. She felt an instant tightening in her stomach in response to his deep chuckle. Shutting her eyes tightly for a moment, she then opened them slowly on a long intake of breath and stared at the girl in the mirror.
Anxious eyes looked back at her and she clicked her tongue in annoyance at the expression on her face. For goodness’ sake, she could do better than this. She had all the sexiness of a scared rabbit at the moment. Inhaling again, she relaxed her taut facial muscles and tried a smile. Better. Not brilliant, but better.
Her eyes ran over her reflection from the top of her head to her vertiginous high heels. She’d spent some time putting her hair up and now it curled in smooth coils at the back of her head, the few strands she’d left down to soften the style catching the light and gleaming like strands of copper. Her silk-jersey dress was a deep cornflower blue and highlighted the blue of her eyes, its plunging neckline showing her newly regained curves to their full advantage.
Compared to some of the daring frocks Jennie favoured, her dress was fairly circumspect, but Rachel knew it suited her and she needed every ounce of confidence she could summon up tonight. She swallowed hard. On impulse she reached for a sexy red lipstick she’d bought a few weeks ago in a moment of madness but had never worn, favouring discreet pinks and peaches normally. Once applied, she was amazed how something so simple as a lipstick could alter her whole persona. Suddenly she felt flirtatious, even a little wanton, and it was heady.
Reason asserted itself and she frowned. This evening wasn’t about being provocative, just the opposite, in fact. Her hand reached for a tissue to wipe her lips but in the same moment Jennie opened the bedroom door and sailed in, her eyes bright. ‘He’s waiting and he looks like a million dollars,’ she said in a loud whisper. ‘You’re going to be the envy of every woman on the planet tonight. Come on.’ She pulled Rachel towards the door, thrusting the satin cocktail purse in the exa
ct shade of the dress into one hand. ‘Zac’s got a taxi waiting. You look absolutely sensational, by the way.’
Sensational was stretching it a bit, but Rachel saw Jennie hadn’t exaggerated about Zac. He looked wickedly sexy and extremely dangerous, a supreme Casanova in every sense of the word. Somehow she managed to return his smile and disguise the bolt of lightning that had shot through her as she’d taken in the hard male body encased in a dark charcoal suit cut impeccably to flaunt broad, muscled shoulders and strong thighs—or it seemed to her he was flaunting them anyway. Whatever, he was sex on legs and for the first time in her life she actually felt weak at the knees. Wishing she had Jennie’s experience to cope with a man like Zac, she adopted what she hoped came over as an easy, casual attitude as she said, ‘Sorry to have kept you waiting.’
‘You didn’t, I was early.’ He stepped forward and brushed her cheek with his lips. He smelled delicious. ‘And even if I’d waited hours it would have been worth it. You look beautiful.’
She was vitally aware of Jennie and Susan hovering in the background, their faces alight, and felt hotly embarrassed without really knowing why. Wanting nothing more now than to be on their way, she took refuge in what Jennie had said, ‘The taxi must be costing you a fortune. We’d better go, hadn’t we?’
He didn’t reply, merely helping her into her coat and taking her arm as they left. Outside, the December night reflected the change in the weather over the last twenty-four hours. Rain and heavy clouds had given way to a clear sky and icy-dry cold, the first real frost of the winter scattering the small mews with diamond dust. Rachel didn’t feel the chill, though. Zac’s body against hers was sending the blood rushing through her veins like wildfire. Her own personal central heating.
Once in the warmer confines of the taxi cab, she settled into a corner of the seat but Zac was having none of it. He slid an arm round her shoulders, moving her closer against him as he asked casually, ‘So how did you get on with that report or whatever it was you had to present today?’
Trying to match his nonchalant attitude and ignore the mad fluttering in her stomach, she crossed her legs and simulated a calm she didn’t feel. ‘Fine, thank you. There were no problems.’
‘And your boss’s boss was satisfied?’
‘As far as I know. He hasn’t complained yet anyway.’
‘Good. Did I tell you how beautiful you look, by the way?’
‘Yes, you did. A minute or so ago.’
When in the next moment she felt him gently nuzzle her upswept hair, Rachel sat as stiff as a board, willing herself not to shiver. She was not going to play his flirting game, no way.
‘Your hair smells of apples,’ he said softly.
She was wearing an exotic perfume, the cost of which had been a week’s salary, and Zac liked the scent of her cheap supermarket brand shampoo? ‘It obviously does what it says on the bottle, then,’ she returned lightly. ‘The shampoo’s called Apple Blossom.’
‘Nice,’ he murmured smokily, the hand over her shoulder idly playing with one of the strands of hair she’d left loose.
A quiet heat began to creep through her body, which was all the prompting she needed to break the intimate mood that had fallen. Shifting infinitesimally away from him on the pretext of turning to face him, she said, ‘And how did your day pan out?’
‘Good.’ If he noticed her manoeuvre he didn’t comment on it, but now his hand rested on the back of the seat behind her. ‘Real good. One of the guys invited me down to his weekend place in the country; he and his wife escape London most weekends apparently and take in country pursuits, horseriding and fishing and the rest of it by day and dinner parties by night. Open house apparently. He suggested I might like to bring a partner.’
For a second or two her brain refused to function and then the thought process clicked on through the shock. Jennie had been more right that she’d known when she’d called her cousin a fast worker. ‘You’re asking me to go away with you for the weekend?’ she said weakly. After one dinner? Damn cheek.
‘I’m asking you to accompany me to a country house as a friend, no strings attached,’ he returned gravely. ‘Separate bedrooms and all that, of course. Everything above board.’
Yes, it darned well would be—if she agreed to go. Which she wouldn’t, of course. ‘I’m busy this weekend.’
‘Doing what?’ he asked bluntly.
Typical, she thought. Any other man would politely express regret and leave it at that, but not Zac Lawson. ‘Various things.’ She hoped she sounded nonchalant rather than jittery.
‘Things on a level like attending a conference on world peace or climate control, or things like washing your hair and having a manicure?’ He grinned at her, one eyebrow raised.
Suddenly she wanted to smile but she controlled the impulse. He didn’t need any encouragement. ‘Zac, I have a life,’ she said sternly. ‘Commitments, arrangements, appointments.’
‘So it’s the washing-your-hair scenario?’ His voice was still relaxed, easy, but his eyes never left her face.
