Prince's Pleasure. Carole Mortimer
after having just staggered up the two flights of stairs to her apartment. She had been ill last night, didn’t feel a hundred per cent now, a fact not enhanced by a journey on the hot and claustrophobic London tube; the last thing she needed at the moment was to be asked about last night. Anything about last night!
‘Perry,’ she greeted lightly, putting the key in the lock to her apartment and opening the door, at once feeling soothed by the untidy comfort of her sitting-room, the furniture old, the sofa sagging slightly, books taking up every conceivable piece of space. But it was her own little world, nonetheless.
A world she would have preferred to retire to alone, after that second run-in with Zak this morning, in order to lick her wounds in private, if for no other reason. Something she knew wouldn’t be possible as, without being invited to do so, Perry followed her inside.
‘Tyler, I asked you a quest—’
‘Perry,’ she cut him off, her look of quiet intensity enough to silence him, for the moment. ‘As you can see, I have just got home,’ she continued softly, ‘so do you think we could possibly delay this conversation until after I’ve at least showered and changed into some clean clothes?’
Not that she really owed Perry an explanation; no matter what he might wish to the contrary, their relationship had only ever been a working one. But it was that working relationship, and the fact that he had also been hauled over the coals a couple of weeks ago, with the threat of dismissal if they didn’t come up with something sensational, pictures included, where Zak Prince was concerned, that made her feel an obligation to him.
‘Fine,’ he accepted tersely. ‘I’ll just sit here and wait for you.’ He dropped down onto the sagging sofa. ‘Tyler, you do know that Zak Prince is—’
‘Not now, Perry,’ she warned—very much at the end of her tether when it came to the subject of Zak Prince. ‘Help yourself to coffee,’ she invited before turning in the direction of her bedroom. ‘I’ll try not to be too long.’
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ he assured her.
Tyler breathed a sigh of relief once she reached the relative sanctuary of her bedroom, the first time she had really been able to relax since waking up this morning and finding herself in bed with Zak.
In bed with Zak!
Just the memory of that was enough to make her drop down weakly onto her bed.
It was bad enough that she had woken and found herself in bed with him, but it was what had followed that disturbed her the most: Zak Prince very thoroughly kissing her.
And her kissing him right back…
If the woman from Housekeeping hadn’t interrupted them when she did…!
Then what?
What did she think would have happened? That the two of them would have carried on making love?
Tyler gave a groan of self-loathing. What a stupid, stupid thing for her to have allowed to happen. Zak had made it more than obvious that he had very little respect for her as a reporter as it was. After she’d fallen into his arms like that, he probably had none at all for her as a woman now, either.
‘Tyler?’ A knock on the bedroom door accompanied Perry’s query. ‘Are you all right in there? Only I can’t hear the shower running.’
‘I’m fine,’ she answered sharply, glaring at the closed door. ‘But I could be a while, so why don’t you—?’
‘I’m staying right here, Tyler,’ Perry informed her doggedly.
She got wearily to her feet, still frowning her irritation with Perry’s badgering as she grabbed some fresh clothes and went through to the adjoining shower-room.
Not that she felt too much better half an hour later, freshly showered and dressed in a clean white tee shirt and faded denims, her hair washed and moussed. All surface dressing in an effort to boost her bruised morale, knowing that, after what had happened between them this morning, Zak was going to be more obnoxious that ever when she met up with him this evening.
And she still had a disgruntled Perry sitting in her lounge!
‘Coffee?’ she offered as she came through from the bedroom and saw that he hadn’t made himself a cup after all.
‘No, thanks,’ he refused tersely, standing up. ‘I really wasn’t exaggerating, was I, when I said Zak Prince can’t be alone with a woman for five minutes without trying to seduce her into his bed? Only in your case it doesn’t seem to have taken even five minutes!’ He looked at her scornfully.
Tyler felt the colour drain from her cheeks. ‘Perry, you have absolutely no right—’
‘No right!’ he exclaimed, shaking his head in disgust. ‘Tyler, I stood outside the hotel last night for over five hours waiting for one or both of you to come out. Then I tried calling you when I got home. Then again at two o’clock. Then again at six o’clock this morning.’ His mouth twisted derisively. ‘The fact that you were still wearing your clothes from yesterday when you arrived home, and looked as if you had just fallen out of bed—literally!—is more than enough reason for me to have added two and two together and come up with the appropriate answer of four! Wouldn’t you say?’ His eyes glittered with accusation.
Tyler drew in a sharp breath. It was probably as well Perry hadn’t been inside the hotel when Zak had swept her up in his arms and carried her away to his hotel suite! ‘Perry, I think you had better leave before you say anything else you’re going to regret,’ she warned.
He dismissed the warning with a wave of his hand. ‘Is that all you have to say to me? Tyler, I thought the two of us meant something to each other. As friends, if nothing else,’ he added as she would have argued that point.
‘Oh, Perry, of course we’re friends.’ She groaned. ‘But nothing happened between Zak Prince and me last night,’ she told him heavily, knowing that wasn’t quite true of this morning, but having no intention of sharing that humiliation with anyone—including Perry.
‘I hope for your sake that it didn’t,’ he snapped. ‘We’re supposed to be digging up the dirt on Zak Prince—I would hate for you to be part of it!’
That was the choice her editor had given her after Tyler had effectively blown the story on Jinx Nixon; deliver as much scandal on Zak Prince as she could, or else she could look for another job. Having walked out on her home and family six months ago with the brave declaration she was perfectly capable of making it on her own, she had no intention of getting fired from her very first job as a reporter.
Although that didn’t stop her inwardly cringing at the knowledge that this interview with Zak was intended as lurid fodder for the tabloids, rather than the restrained Sunday magazine supplement article that she had told Zak it would be. This type of journalism was not exactly what she had had in mind when she’d made those grand announcements to her family!
‘I was ill last night, and Zak Prince was kind enough—’
‘You were ill?’ Perry moved to her side to look down at her with concern. ‘What happened? Why were you ill? Do you need to see a doctor?’
A head doctor, maybe—for being stupid enough not to have rebuffed Zak this morning when he’d kissed her!
‘No.’ She gave a humourless laugh. ‘I don’t need to see a doctor. I—inadvertently drank some brandy—’
‘Oh, no,’ Perry groaned in sympathy, well aware of her allergy to alcohol. ‘But how on earth—?’
‘It was an accident, okay?’ she told him sharply. ‘I drank it. I was ill. And Zak Prince took care of me. End of story.’ As far as explaining herself to Perry it was, but she had a definite feeling that Zak would have other ideas on the subject!
‘You poor love,’ Perry sympathized. ‘And all I did when you finally managed to stagger home was hurl accusations at you. Will you let me make