by Abby Green
It only made things worse.
Zach introduced her to his guests, but he was their main focus. They simply looked at Ashling with naked curiosity.
She saw the Stephanides arrive and gestured to tell him that she would go to them, welcoming a chance to get her breath back. Zach nodded and let her go. She felt a prickle between her shoulder blades as if he was watching her leave but then she told herself she was being ridiculous.
* * *
About an hour later Zach was growing impatient again. Where was she now?
He’d watched her meet the Stephanides, and then a small crowd had formed around them, as if Ashling were attracting people to her by her sheer open demeanour.
He’d never been with anyone like her before. He was used to people who wouldn’t dream of emoting or talking with unguarded abandon. But she literally had no agenda. Or appeared not to.
She also didn’t appear to need to plaster herself to his side at all times, which was irritating. And irritating for being irritating.
He saw Georgios and Elena and extricated himself from his group of guests and went over. Elena said something about an emergency in the kitchen, and that Ashling had gone to see if she could help.
As Zach was walking to the kitchen he met Diana, who looked flustered. ‘Oh, Zach, the chef has been taken to hospital with a suspected heart attack. Rob has gone with him. He’ll let me know what happens, but we think he’ll be okay.’
Zach said, ‘Call my physician and have him on standby in case he’s needed.’
‘Of course.’
‘Have you seen Ashling?’
Diana looked sheepish. ‘She’s in the kitchen.’
Zach frowned. And then he followed Diana to the kitchen—where he was greeted by the sight of organised chaos as everyone worked—with Ashling slap-bang in the middle of the confusion, wearing an apron over her dress. She was taking a tray out of the oven.
‘What the hell...?’
He hadn’t even realised he’d spoken out loud until Diana said, ‘Ashling was with me when Rob told me what was happening and she came straight in and took over. She’s amazing, Zach. Did you know she trained as a chef?’
Zach felt a mixture of shock, frustration and pride. ‘She might have mentioned it at some point.’
He went over to her and she looked up, cheeks pink, distracted.
‘What are you doing?’
She was unfazed. ‘Keeping your guests supplied with canapés.’
He looked around at the hive of activity. ‘No one else here can do that?’
‘They got a fright when Marcel collapsed, and they needed someone to take over.’
‘You have fifteen minutes to reassure the assistant chef that he is capable of the job and come back to the party.’
‘Is that an order or a request?’
Desire twisted inside Zach at her cheeky expression. No one spoke to him like this. It was exhilarating.
He reached out and put a hand behind her neck, caressing. Suddenly she didn’t look so cheeky. She was looking at his mouth.
‘It’s an order.’
* * *
Ashling sneaked into the back of the marquee just as Zach was delivering his speech before the charity auction. Money would be raised for local charities—chief of which was a cancer charity which, she’d discovered, he’d set up himself.
Ashling was shocked to hear him reveal now that he’d set up the cancer charity after his mother had died of a rare form of cancer. He was also involved in the local hospice, after they’d provided care for her at the end of her life.
Everyone was rapt as he spoke. And she couldn’t blame them. He was mesmerising and not remotely sentimental, even though he was talking about something that was obviously deeply personal.
Ashling realised that she knew next to nothing about Zach’s family. She wondered if his father was still alive. If he had siblings. He’d very skilfully deflected any focus on his personal life—which Ashling could understand, coming from her own less than conventional background.
At that moment his dark gaze pinpointed her, standing at the back of the crowd. She told herself a little desperately that Zach’s family was none of her business. She didn’t care about what had shaped him. She only cared about the very explicit promise in those eyes.
* * *
‘Finished saving the world?’
‘One canapé at a time,’ Ashling quipped, her response hiding how unsettled she’d felt after hearing him talk about his mother.
After he’d delivered his speech Zach had come straight to where Ashling was standing and taken her hand, leading her out of the marquee.
She heard them start the bidding for the charity auction. ‘Don’t you need to be in there for that?’
He shook his head. ‘It’s all under control.’
She looked up at him. His face was half in shadow in the dusky light. ‘I’m sorry about your mother...you must have been close.’
‘We were.’
‘Your father...?’
Zach’s jaw tensed. ‘He’s not in my life.’
Ashling guessed his parents must have divorced. Some of the guests who weren’t bidding in the auction had spilled out into the garden and were taking to the dance floor, dancing to the slow, sensual rhythm of the jazz coming from the band. She spotted Georgios and Elena, looking very much in love.
Zach said, ‘Thank you for helping Diana to cope with the emergency. You didn’t have to do that.’
Ashling shrugged a shoulder, embarrassed. ‘It was nothing.’
‘Dance?’
She looked up. ‘Okay.’
Zach led her over to the dance floor and swept her into his arms. Ashling caught Elena’s eye and the older woman smiled indulgently. She felt like a fraud, though, next to their very obvious absorption in each other.
What she and Zach had was...short and hot. Not long-lasting. Enduring.
‘Is that a love knot?’
Ashling looked up to see Zach was looking at her necklace. ‘Yes, it’s an Algerian love knot.’
‘Given to you by a lover?’
Ashling was tempted to be blasé and say yes. To try and even out the inequality she felt next to this man who must have handed over hundreds of trinkets to his lovers.
But she couldn’t. ‘No, it was a gift from my mother. For my twenty-first birthday.’
Zach said, ‘Good. I’m glad.’
Ashling couldn’t stop her silly heart pounding faster at that response.
The canopy of golden lights twinkled overhead and out of the corner of her eye she could see the tulle of her dress swirling around her as Zach twirled her away from his body and then back in. She felt herself being sucked into the fantasy of believing in the romance of the moment.
But when Zach pulled her close again, and she felt her body respond helplessly to his whipcord strength, she had to remind herself that any sense of romance was fleeting and an illusion. What was happening here was purely physical.
As if to make sure she understood that, Zach pulled her even closer, and Ashling’s breath stopped when she felt the press of his arousal against her belly. Desire, sharp and urgent, licked at her lower belly.
He stopped moving. She looked up at him, caught by the intensity of his gaze. The air thickened between them, tension rising. And urgency.
He caught her hand in his and was leading her off the dance floor before she could take another breath. With single-minded focus, not stopping for anyone, he led her onto the terrace and through the French doors.
It was quiet in the house, because everyone was outside in the humid summer evening.
‘Zach...where are we going?’
Ashling was afraid to articulate the need building inside her. Surely it was the same for him and they had the same goal. Now.
He took
her through one of the formal reception rooms and then through a secret door, camouflaged because it was wallpapered the same as the wall. The room he took her into was a library, with floor-to-ceiling shelves and worn leather furniture. He closed the door behind them and, still holding Ashling’s hand, went and sat down on one of the big leather chairs, pulling her down onto his lap.
She landed with a flurry of silk and tulle billowing around them. Within seconds their mouths were fused, and Zach’s hands were moving from Ashling’s waist to her bottom. She could feel him underneath her, hard, and she moved against him.
He pulled back. ‘Witch.’ Then he put his hands on her waist, lifting her. ‘Straddle me.’
Ashling lifted up the material of the dress and came up on her knees, either side of his thighs.
Zach put his hands on her thighs under the dress. She looked down at him. His expression was hidden in the dim light. She reached for his bow-tie, undoing it, opening his top button. She bent down, pressed a kiss to his jaw, feeling the stubble tickle her mouth. She was trying to ignore the welling of dangerous emotion.
Zach’s hands left her thighs and she heard him undo his belt. There was the snap of a button, the tug of a zip.
She pulled back and came up on her knees. She could feel the heat of Zach’s body. He reached between them, rubbing the silk of her underwear where it covered the centre of her.
Ashling groaned softly. The sounds of the party drifted in from outside. Laughter, music... She put her hands on his shoulders.
He tugged her underwear to one side, the movement causing delicious friction along her sensitised skin.
He asked, ‘Are you tender? After last night?’
Ashling could feel herself blushing. ‘A little, but it’s okay.’
She heard foil rip as Zach protected himself, and then he was taking himself in his hand and nudging the head of his erection along her folds. Ashling met him, taking in a breath as she sank down. He impaled her. Slowly. Deliciously. Until she was so full she could barely breathe.
Then, with his hands on her hips, he urged her to move up and down, taking his time, setting the rhythm, letting her get used to him.
Until her own instincts took over and the need inside her grew. Her movements became faster, more urgent. Her skin grew damp, and every cell in her body strained for release. But she was afraid of the oncoming storm.
‘Let go, Ash. I’ve got you.’
Zach reached up and tugged her head down, claiming her mouth just as the storm broke. He captured her breathy groan of release as his other hand clamped to her waist and held her still while his own body found its release inside her embrace.
The shock waves ebbed slowly. The perspiration on their skin cooled. Ashling’s face was embedded on Zach’s shoulder, her mouth touching his neck. She flicked out her tongue to taste his skin and, incredibly, his body jerked in response.
He huffed a laugh. Ashling smiled against his skin, a wave of satisfied exhaustion claiming her before she could stop it.
* * *
When Zach went back out to the party he felt drunk. Drunk on sex. He’d lain Ashling down on the couch in the library, covered her with a throw. It had taken all his willpower not to just carry her up to the nearest bedroom.
He’d never behaved so spontaneously. But no other woman had ever precipitated such a visceral hunger in him. A hunger that had to be assuaged immediately.
It wasn’t just desire, though, a little voice reminded him uncomfortably.
No. There had been an expression in her eyes when they’d danced. Open, unguarded. Wistful. He’d acted on a powerful instinct to do whatever it took to turn that expression into something much earthier. Base.
The women he’d chosen as lovers up to now had been pragmatic. Ambitious. Well-connected. They hadn’t looked at him as if they could see right into him. Or as if he was promising them something beyond a mutually satisfying liaison.
If he ever was going to settle down, then it would be with one of those women. Women who didn’t stir his emotions. Women who didn’t rouse old fantasies of a different life. The kind of life that had been snatched out of his grasp the moment he’d been born.
This weekend with Ashling...getting her out of his system and settling old scores...was all he needed to move forward with the next phase of his life. The deal with Georgios Stephanides was done. It was time to take his rightful place among his peers and prove to the family who’d rejected him that he was their equal.
* * *
Ashling felt disorientated when she woke the following morning. She was alone in Zach’s bed.
She saw two empty champagne glasses on the bedside table and pieced together the events... After the library, she’d woken in Zach’s arms last night as he’d carried her up to bed. She’d protested, saying, ‘Shouldn’t we get back to the party?’
He’d replied dryly, ‘Most people have left...it’s just a few stragglers.’
Ashling had buried her head in his chest. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep like that.’
He’d brought her here, to his room. By the time she’d stood in front of him she’d been wide awake again. His bow-tie had been hanging rakishly loose. Jacket gone.
Ashling could see her dress now. The swathe of romantic silk, lace and flowers trailed over the bottom of the bed like a glorious stain of rich colours.
They’d made love again, as hungrily as if they hadn’t just made love a short time before. It had scared Ashling slightly...this ravenous craving he’d awoken in her.
They’d woken during the night, ravenous again except this time for food. They’d gone down to the kitchen and eaten leftovers from the party. Zach had given Ashling a pair of his sweatpants and a T-shirt. She’d rolled the pants up and tied the T-shirt into a knot at her midriff.
They’d come back to the bedroom as dawn was breaking, with two glasses of champagne. And then made love again.
Ashling’s body felt deliciously heavy. Sated. Tender. She was just wondering where Zach might be when she heard a noise and looked up, to see him walking out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel hitched around his waist.
Her mouth dried. His skin was gleaming, muscles bunching as he rubbed his hair with a smaller towel. Ashling’s belly tightened. Again.
He saw her. Took the towel from his head. He was clean-shaven again. ‘Morning...’
‘Hi.’ Ashling felt ridiculously shy, considering the fact that this man knew her more intimately than anyone else in the world. Even her previous boyfriends. Safe to say that Zach’s very thorough brand of lovemaking meant that he’d touched, caressed, kissed, licked, nipped every part of her body.
He stood at the end of the bed. ‘I’ve decided to stay for the weekend.’
Ashling’s insides contracted. It was over. Already. She shouldn’t be surprised, really. Even though every successive time they’d made love it had just got better and better.
For her.
She had to remember that she was a novice compared to Zach. He was probably bored already.
She saw the discarded T-shirt nearby and reached for it, pulling it on back to front. She didn’t care. She felt a bit panicky now.
‘Okay, that’s cool. I can get a train from the nearest village—or maybe one of the event people will be going back into town. I can get a lift with—’
He frowned. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘You said you’re staying for the weekend. I presumed...’ She trailed off, and watched as he dropped the smaller towel and stalked around the side of the bed.
‘What I should have said was that I’ve decided to stay and would like you to stay too. Otherwise it’s a pointless exercise.’
Because he wanted to be here with her.
Ashling felt light-headed.
‘Don’t you normally stay for the weekend if you’re here?’
<
br /> He shook his head and moved over her on the bed, leaning on his hands. ‘No, usually I leave again straight away.’
‘Oh.’
‘But this time I’m inspired to stay.’
That implied—far too dangerously for Ashling’s liking—that he hadn’t done this before.
Ashling lay back. Zach loomed over her, bronzed skin tight over taut muscles, more tempting than anything she’d ever known before. She knew that it would be cooler to try and not appear too available, but she was afraid that horse had bolted long ago.
‘Well?’
‘Okay... I’ll stay.’
A bubble of excitement rose up inside her. She reached down and twitched open Zach’s towel. It fell from his hips to the bed, exposing every inch of his masculinity.
She met his eye. ‘Oops...’
He smiled and came down over her, crushing her deliciously to the bed. ‘Oops, indeed.’
CHAPTER TEN
WHEN ASHLING WOKE again it was much later. A throbbing noise had woken her but she couldn’t place it. She was alone in Zach’s bedroom and she stretched luxuriously under the sheet, feeling thoroughly decadent.
She got up and put on the sweatpants and T-shirt again to go to her own room, wincing a little as she moved, her muscles aching.
She didn’t see anyone on her way. When she got there she looked out of the window and saw that most of the event decorations were already down. The marquee was half dismantled. She realised then that it was after lunch.
She went into her bathroom and looked at herself, eyes widening. Tousled hair, pink cheeks, a little bit of red on her jaw—a slight irritation from Zach’s stubble. She almost didn’t recognise herself.
She took off his clothes and dived into her shower, before he would come looking for her and find her documenting every bit of evidence of his lovemaking on her body.
When she was out and freshened up she felt slightly less dreamy, a little more in control again. Which she knew would probably last for about a second in Zach’s company.