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He took advantage of it and came closer. ‘I’m not letting you out of my sight again. So we can do this the quick way, by leaving now, or the slow way by leaving later. Up to you.’
Rose thought of proving the point by returning to work, but with Zac hovering at her heels she’d drop many more trays before her shift was over, and she’d already drawn enough attention to herself for one day.
As if he knew she was wavering he said, ‘Stop overthinking it. This is simple. I want to get to know you.’
* * *
Rose had gone with him. Of course she had. Because she was weak and because she’d wanted to, as much as she feared the malevolence of Mrs Lyndon-Holt and what the future held for her father if she didn’t comply.
She hadn’t been sure what to expect once she’d agreed to leave with him, but Zac had asked his driver to stop in Central Park, and they’d walked through the park, hands linked. They’d talked about inconsequential things, like books, movies and their mutual love of the New York Yankees.
He’d bought them ice-cream from a vendor, and now they sat and looked across the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir as people jogged past.
Rose sneaked him a look, asked, ‘Shouldn’t you be working?’
He tipped his head up to the early-evening sun and closed his eyes, before opening them again and looking at her. He winked. ‘I’m playing hooky.’
Rose’s heart somersaulted in her chest. Never in a million years would she have imagined spending a couple of hours in Zac Valenti’s company like this—as if he was just some regular guy and not one of America’s most talked about billionaires. During the last week she’d seen the latest edition of Forbes magazine on the newsstands, with his picture on the front and the headline: The most powerful new billionaire in America?
Dusk was falling over Manhattan by the time they emerged on the south side of the park, and Rose could see Zac’s building in the distance.
‘I can see your garden from here.’ She pointed up to where the green foliage peeked out over the walls.
When Zac didn’t say anything she looked at him. His tie was undone, top button open. His jacket was hanging off a finger, draped over his shoulder casually. Hair ruffled by the breeze. Rose’s heart squeezed tight. Oh, boy. She was in trouble.
He turned to face her. ‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, but there’s a subway stop right across the street—or I could have my car take you home.’
For a moment Rose’s belly plummeted. He didn’t want her. Not after talking to her and realising how boring she was.
And then he continued, ‘But I don’t want you to go home. I want you to come with me and spend the night with me.’
She reeled at his stark words as illicit relief rushed through her body. Take it or leave it. No games. He wanted her, and he wasn’t going to waste time pretending otherwise. She wished right then that she wasn’t in such a bind, that she could freely accept what Zac was offering with no strings attached. But every which way she moved now the strings were getting tighter and tighter.
She was still deceiving him. With every breath she took.
She pulled her hand free of his and stepped back unsteadily, as if drunk from his mere presence all over again. She shook her head, feeling a rush of burning emotion. ‘I’m sorry... I just can’t.’
Right
now she would prefer to risk Mrs Lyndon-Holt’s wrath than betray this man. She took another step, and another. She looked across the road and took advantage of a lull in the traffic to run across.
Heart thudding painfully, she stopped on the other side and looked back at Zac. He cut a powerful and proud figure. Face hard. He wouldn’t chase her again. She knew it. She’d intrigued him for a brief moment—again—but a man like him would soon forget about a maid who kept playing hard to get. And his mother would find someone else to deceive him.
She had to focus on her father—not complicate their lives by potentially becoming pregnant on purpose!
Rose knew there would be no shortage of women who would go all the way with this plan without feeling her angst-ridden turmoil. And suddenly she was angry at that thought—which was ironic, considering that she was the one currently deceiving him!
This was so messed up. She had to go.
She walked with heavy feet to the subway entrance and looked down into the cavernous dark opening. It was dark and cold and dank. She was jostled by rush hour crowds, eager to get home.
She looked across the road again and Zac was still standing there. Vital and bathed in sunlight. Rose had never wanted anything so much as to walk back across to him. She wanted to forget her responsibilities. She wanted to forget the strings. She wanted to pretend that she’d met him by coincidence, exactly as he believed.
She didn’t want to go down into that cold dark hole and never see Zac again.
The fantasy she’d woven in her head for a brief moment that night, when she’d admitted to him she didn’t want to go, just before his phone had rung, beckoned again like a siren call...
You can do this if you want...take what he’s offering and walk away.
