Secret Heirs Collection. Коллектив авторов
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.
She wavered. Could she…really?
Rose knew she couldn’t tell him everything, but what if she was brutally honest about how innocent she was? Surely she’d lose her appeal then? A man used to experienced lovers, he’d hardly relish teaching a novice…
And if he still wanted her even then—her heart beat fast at that prospect—she’d make sure that there would be no pregnancy. He would make sure. After all, wasn’t that exactly what those women in the powder room of that hotel had said? Zac Valenti was the last man to allow himself to be caught in such a way.
Rose turned against the tide of people rushing around her. As if sensing her capitulation from across the road Zac came towards her, like a panther intent on his prey. His eyes were locked onto hers until he was standing in front of her.
A silent communication passed between them. Are you sure? No more games.
And from the deepest part of her came just one word as she put her hand in his: Yes.
Zac felt euphoric. He felt reckless. Out of his comfort zone. As if he was going slightly crazy.
Since when had he ever taken a notion to walk across Central Park in the afternoon, to hold a woman’s hand? Or to stop and buy ice-cream? Or to take time out from work. Something he hadn’t done in…ever.
But from the moment he’d seen Rose again in that room his brain had ceased functioning normally.
The only thing stopping him from slamming a hand on the ‘Stop’ button of his private elevator right now and lifting her against the wall with her legs wrapped around his waist, so he could take her right here, was the tiniest sliver of control that reminded him he was a civilised man and not an animal.
It was the only thing that had held him back from cursing when she’d pulled away and crossed the road just a short while before. But then she’d stood at the entrance of that subway, looking into it as if it held some answer…and she hadn’t moved. And she’d looked across at him and her hunger and yearning had been palpable.
He’d wanted to howl in triumph. Because he’d known then that this mysterious, fey woman who had bewitched his body and mind was going to be his. He would get her mysterious pull out of his system and put it behind him.
This last week had shown him that he was more at the mercy of his hormones than he’d like to admit. For a man who had always felt in control of his life—even when it had spun in a completely unexpected direction—it was a disturbing sensation. He didn’t equate women with hormones or this craving need.
He came from a world where logic ruled. Where emotions showed up weaknesses. From a young age, his life was lived by a strict code of rules. Even if he thought he’d thrown all that out of the window, he hadn’t really. He just lived by a different set of rules now.
If anything had demonstrated to him that emotions out of control spelled doom, his own parents’ legacy had. Their lives—and his—had been ruined by reckless passion. And while he wanted to avenge them above anything else, he also wanted to prove that he could control himself. That his life wouldn’t be derailed as theirs had been.
Rose held him momentarily in thrall, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t trust it. So the sooner he could exorcise it, the better. And this was just the start.
ZAC’S APARTMENT WAS subtly different from the other night as the setting sun bathed it in a golden light. Rose was breathing too rapidly and forced herself to slow down. She’d taken her hand out of Zac’s when they’d come into the apartment and walked over to one of the windows, suddenly jittery. Suddenly wondering again if she was being completely crazy—not to mention selfish.
She looked out and put a hand on the glass, as if that might help to anchor her in this fantastical space. He came to stand beside her and the air quivered between them. That damned breathlessness was back, along with a spurt of panic.
What was she doing here?
She gabbled words to try and fill the weighted silence. ‘It’s so beautiful up here. You’re very lucky.’
Zac’s voice was deep and low beside her. ‘I know how beautiful it is and, believe me, I know how lucky I am.’
She finally looked at him and he was leaning with his back against the glass, which suddenly looked totally flimsy to Rose. He’d removed his tie and taken off his waistcoat, and was staring at her assessingly.
She felt acutely self-conscious. She wore only a minimum amount of make-up, which had probably melted off by now, making her face shiny. Her hair was down and messy, thanks to him. She wore the blandest of clothes. As opposite as she could be from the woman he’d met a week ago.
Unbidden, she asked helplessly, ‘Why do you want me?’
His