Nothing Like Love

by Abigail Strom

  “But we’re going to Ireland to work, not to play. We’ve got six performances to do.”

  “We’ll still have plenty of free time. And don’t you remember where we’ll be staying?”

  “County Clare, I think you said. On the west coast? You said your mother has a house there. That’s where the company is staying, right? Although it’s hard to imagine a house big enough to put up twenty people.”

  “That’s because it’s not a house. It’s a castle.”

  Her eyes widened. “A castle?”

  “Yes. You really didn’t pay attention when I talked about this trip, did you?”

  “Nope. My mind got stuck on the flying-across-the-Atlantic part and stayed there. I was too nervous about that to think about anything else.”

  “You don’t seem nervous now.”

  “I don’t feel nervous. I don’t know if I’m over my fear of flying, but I’m definitely a lot calmer than I was an hour ago.” She glanced over his shoulder. “And I think this will relax me even more.”

  The flight attendant had returned. Since this was first class, there was room enough for a small table between them and the next row of seats. The steward covered it with a crisp, white tablecloth and set down an ice bucket and two champagne flutes, a bowl of perfectly red strawberries, and a selection of gourmet chocolates.

  “This is positively decadent,” Simone murmured as the flight attendant poured them each a glass of champagne before departing. “You don’t have to spoil me like this to get me to put out, you know. I’ve already promised you sexual favors.”

  Zach grinned. “For the next two weeks, I’m going to spoil you like you’ve never been spoiled before. I’m going to spoil you even if you don’t have sex with me. But if you do have sex with me, I guarantee you a very good time.” He held up his glass. “Here’s to a fortnight of pampering . . . in bed and everywhere else.”

  Simone hesitated. “That sounds amazing, Zach—but I meant what I said. You don’t have to pamper me.”

  “I know I don’t have to. But I want to. So let me.”

  She didn’t look convinced, but she clinked her glass against his and took a sip. “Mmmm,” she said appreciatively. “Delicious.”

  Zach held out a strawberry and she took a bite. “That’s delicious, too. So, Mr. Hammond . . . tell me about this castle. And tell me about your mom while you’re at it. It just occurred to me that you know a whole lot about my family and I don’t know anything about yours.”

  “I’ll start with the castle, since that’s more fun.”

  “More fun than your mom? I’m going to tell her you said that.”

  He chuckled. “Julia Hammond would be the first to admit that the castle is the most entertaining thing about our family.”

  Simone took another sip of champagne, following it up with one of the chocolates. “Okay, then—tell me about the castle.”

  “Well. The current structure is only three hundred years old, but—”

  “Only three hundred years old? That’s older than most of the buildings in America.”

  “America is a young country. As I was saying, there’s been a castle on the site for more than eight hundred years.”

  Simone looked impressed. “Eight hundred years? Wow. That’s a lot of history. Did you grow up there? No—you grew up in England. Didn’t you?”

  He nodded. “My mother’s family is Irish, but my father was English. I grew up in Stratford-upon-Avon.”

  “Shakespeare’s birthplace?”

  “Right. We lived there until my father died.”

  “How old were you when that happened?”

  “I was twelve. He was a pilot in the RAF. He was killed in action in the first Gulf War, almost twenty-five years ago.”

  Her eyes filled with sympathy. “Oh, Zach. That must have been so hard on you and your mom.”

  He nodded. “She was devastated. She and my dad had a fairy-tale romance. It’s been more than two decades since his death, and she’s still in love with him.”

  “She never remarried?”

  “No. She never will.”

  Simone looked surprised. “Never is a long time. You don’t think your mom might—”

  “She worshiped my father. He was the love of her life. She said once that no man could ever compete with that, and she would never put someone in the position where he had to.”

  Simone was quiet for a moment, and Zach felt an odd defensiveness rise in him. But then she changed the subject.

  “So when did your mom go back to Ireland?”

  “A few years ago. When the Irish economy went south, her family decided to turn the castle into a luxury hotel.”

  “Oh, wow. Her childhood home. Was your mom upset?”

  “Not at all. She loved the idea of sharing her favorite place with people from all around the world. Besides, innkeeping is her career—she ran a boutique hotel in London for years. When the family started discussing plans, my mum took charge of the project, and she’s been overseeing the renovations ever since. The place will open in September, which is why Mum was so excited about your company coming for a visit. It’s to be their dry run. We’re the hotel’s first guests.”

  “We get to stay in a luxury castle hotel for free?”

  “That’s right. So it’s not just you being pampered—it’s the whole company.” He grinned at her. “Of course, you might get a little special treatment . . .”

  Just then the captain’s voice, indistinct, came on over the speaker system. Zach couldn’t understand what he was saying, but he could guess. The seat belt sign turned on, and the plane began to go through turbulence.

  He fastened his seat belt and looked over at Simone. Her face was chalk white.

  He checked her seat belt and then took her hand. “This is nothing to worry about,” he reassured her. “This happens on every flight I’ve ever been on. It’s completely normal.”

  She nodded, but her eyes looked wide and frightened. When the turbulence became a little more severe, she clutched at him. “Oh, God,” she whispered. “I don’t want to die before we get a chance to sleep together.”

  Even scared out of her wits she could still make him laugh. “I promise you that’s not going to happen.” He leaned in close. “Maybe I should try distracting you again.”

  She shook her head. “No. Not that. But . . .” She looked at him.

  “What?”

  “Would you . . .”

  “What, Simone? Tell me what you need.”

  A flush came into her cheeks. “Would you kiss me?”

  “God, yes.”

  He slid his hands into her hair, pressed her back against the seat, and brought his mouth down on hers.

  Her lips were as soft as he remembered, and as sweet. She made a little mmmm of pleasure as he urged her lips apart, and the sound went straight to his groin. His tongue stroked inside her mouth, thrusting against hers, imitating the act that was all he could think about. He was desperate to be inside her hot, sweet, perfect body, buried inside the fire and lightning of her until everything else burned away.

  There was another spate of turbulence, and Simone’s grip on his arms tightened.

  He hated that she was afraid. He wanted to soothe her, to comfort and protect her, to keep her safe from anything that might harm her. He wanted to drive away all her fears. He wanted to stand between her and anything that might cause her pain, whether it was real or imaginary.

  He broke the kiss and looked into her eyes, his hands still framing her face. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  She laughed a little shakily. “You’ll keep the plane from crashing?”

  “Yes.”

  “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.” She took a deep breath. “But that’s the sweetest lie anyone’s ever told m
e.”

  He smiled. “Did it work?”

  “I’m not sure if it was that or the mind-blowing kiss, but I definitely feel better.” She paused. “Also, the turbulence seems to be over. Thank God.”

  “The kissing doesn’t have to be, though.”

  She started to say something, but she interrupted herself with a huge yawn. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I could actually sleep. I didn’t think that would ever be possible on a plane. Or that I’d ever choose sleeping over kissing.”

  “You should,” he said immediately. “May I offer you a shoulder?”

  She smiled up at him. “Yes.”

  She kicked off her shoes and drew her legs up, tucking them underneath her. Then she nestled against him and rested her head against his upper arm.

  Zach was surprised at the rush that went through him. It was a mixture of sensation and emotion—protectiveness, affection, and a strange sense of belonging, as though he and Simone just . . . fit, somehow.

  He lifted the blanket off her lap and spread it over both of them. A flight attendant appeared and started to ask something, but Zach put his finger to his lips. The man nodded in understanding and mimed clearing the champagne and strawberries away. Once that was done, Zach glanced down at Simone.

  She was asleep.

  He, on the other hand, didn’t feel tired at all. A warm glow of well-being made him want to stay awake so he could enjoy it.

  As the night wore on, he found himself building ridiculous fantasies in his mind. Was there really no possibility of a future for him and Simone? Was there a chance, for instance, that she might consider moving to England?

  Probably not. But what about him? Would he consider moving to New York?

  It was crazy to think like this. Once they were on the ground again he’d have to put these thoughts aside.

  But when daylight came and their plane touched down, Zach wasn’t ready to let them go.

  Did he have to? He wouldn’t say anything to Simone, of course—but he’d make sure she enjoyed the hell out of the next two weeks.

  And then?

  Then they’d see.

  Simone grinned at him as they went through customs. “You look happy. Glad to be back on this side of the pond?”

  “Glad to be here with you,” he corrected, putting an arm around her shoulders.

  They collected their bags and made their way toward the exit. Once through the doors, they saw the usual knot of people waiting for loved ones as well as drivers holding up signs with names on them. He’d hired a car to take them to the castle, so—

  He froze.

  Isabelle was there in the crowd, scanning the faces of the passengers.

  She was wearing a dark green dress that drew attention to her emerald necklace—the necklace he’d given her years ago when they’d graduated from university. It had been a Hammond family heirloom, and his grandmother had kicked up quite a fuss when he’d asked for it, but eventually she’d given in.

  Her chestnut hair was as long and lustrous as the day he’d first met her. Her body was as perfect, her skin as glowing. She had the kind of beauty that compelled attention, and even here in the airport, with its unflattering light and hurrying crowds, people stopped to stare.

  She caught sight of him then, and a smile lit up her face. Then she saw Simone and her smile faltered.

  Zach’s arm was still around Simone’s shoulders. As Isabelle came toward them, he took his arm away.

  “Is something wrong?” Simone asked. Her expression as she looked up at him was warm, open, trusting.

  “A friend of mine is here,” he said in a low voice. “Someone I didn’t expect to see.”

  Simone followed the line of his gaze. “The woman in the green dress?”

  “Yes.”

  “My God, she’s so beautiful. Are you guys . . .”

  “Her name is Isabelle. She’s an old friend. We’ve known each other a long time, but we’ve never been a couple. She’s married.”

  Simone glanced at Isabelle again and then back at him. “Was she the one who called you that night? The night of the rehearsal dinner?”

  “Yes.”

  Simone nodded. Her expression was guarded now, no longer warm and open, and Zach felt a rush of frustration. He was almost angry at Isabelle for showing up like this and throwing a monkey wrench into his life, but of course she hadn’t known that’s what she was doing.

  But what the hell was she doing?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  When the woman—Isabelle—reached them, she threw her arms around Zach.

  “Darling!”

  Simone moved back a couple of steps to give them space for the big reunion scene.

  Wow. That sounded bitchy even in her head.

  Well, why not? She’d gone from gloriously happy to heartbroken in less than sixty seconds.

  Not that she had any reason to feel heartbroken. Disappointed, yes; heartbroken, no. It wasn’t like she and Zach had declared their undying love. All they’d agreed to was a hot, two-week affair with no strings attached.

  Then this beautiful stranger had appeared, disrupting those plans in one fell swoop.

  Maybe they’d never been a couple, but it was obvious Zach had feelings for this woman. And now she’d shown up out of the blue. Whatever her reasons for coming, Zach’s focus would be on her for the foreseeable future.

  Whatever he’d had planned for him and Simone wouldn’t be happening. She’d been looking forward to the next two weeks, and now . . .

  Now?

  Simone took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.

  She was still looking forward to the next two weeks. She was in Ireland, damn it, and she was going to enjoy herself.

  “What are you doing here?” Zach was asking. “Is everything all right?”

  Tears welled up in Isabelle’s lovely green eyes. “I’ve decided to leave him, Zach.”

  She had to be a professional actor. Her sense of timing was too perfectly calculated to be natural, and she held herself as if for an audience.

  Simone had known plenty of actors who couldn’t stop acting when they were offstage, and they tended not to be people she wanted to spend time with outside of work. She was surprised that Zach could be so close with someone like that.

  Zach stared at her. “You’ve asked for a divorce? Isabelle, that’s wonderful.”

  She hesitated. “Well, I haven’t actually told Nigel yet. I wanted to see you first,” she said, stepping in close. She was tall, at least five foot ten, and in her high-heeled boots, her eyes were only an inch or two below Zach’s. “You’re the only person I’ve told,” she went on in a low voice. “I wanted to see you before I did anything, to make sure . . .” She hesitated again. “To make sure you’d be there for me.”

  What the hell did that mean? Did this woman have Zach on some kind of string, ready to step in the instant she decided to divorce her husband?

  Isabelle’s eyes flicked over to Simone. “But I’m being terribly rude. Won’t you introduce me to your . . . friend?”

  Her delicate inflection on that last word was pure genius, asking for Simone’s status in the least offensive way possible.

  Simone glanced at Zach to see how he’d handle it. The memory of those heated minutes in the plane was fresh in her mind, and she was willing to bet they were on his, too. Then there were the hours she’d slept on his shoulder. She’d woken up that morning feeling utterly safe and cared for, and the look in his eyes when he’d said good morning . . .

  He looked at her now, and there was genuine turmoil in his expression. She was feeling hurt and pissed off enough that she was almost willing to let him struggle through this on his own, but what the hell. After what he’d done for Noah and Henry . . . not to mention on that plane . . . she owed him one.

  Before Z
ach could speak, she stepped forward and stuck out her hand. “I’m Simone Oliver,” she said. “I’m the set designer on the play Zach’s directing. I’m scared to death of flying, so in case you were wondering why he had his arm around me just now, that’s the reason. I had a rough time on the flight and he helped me through it.”

  Isabelle, she suspected, was more accustomed to insinuation and innuendo than the direct approach. She took Simone’s hand and shook it automatically, but her expression, though relieved, was also a little taken aback.

  “I didn’t mean to imply . . .”

  “Sure you did,” Simone said. “But you don’t have anything to worry about.”

  She turned to Zach then, expecting to see the same relief in his expression.

  Instead, he looked oddly disappointed.

  But his instinctive British politeness was his only overt response. “Simone Oliver, allow me to present my good friend, Isabelle Pearson. Isabelle, this is my friend and colleague, Simone.”

  “It’s lovely to meet you,” Isabelle said. “I’m so sorry you had a difficult flight.” She turned to Zach. “And I’m sorry to appear out of nowhere and drop this news on you. But it’s been difficult to reach you by phone in the last few days”—Simone gave her props for the subtle accusation in those words—“and I wanted to see you in person. So I asked your mother for your flight information, and here I am.”

  She smiled winsomely, and Zach smiled back. “I’m happy you came, Isabelle . . . and I’m even happier to hear your news. But we can talk about that later. How long will you be in Ireland? Can you stay with us at the castle?”

  “I can stay a few days at least. The children are with their grandparents until next week. If you’re sure your mother won’t mind?”

  “Of course not. I’ve hired a car, so—”

  Simone interrupted. “Why don’t I get a cab? That way the two of you can have some privacy.”

  Isabelle perked up at the offer. “That’s lovely of you, Simone. If you’re sure—”

  “No.” Zach’s tone was firm, and both women looked at him in surprise. “There’s no need for you to take a cab when I’ve hired a car. Besides, it’s only a fifteen-minute drive. Once you’re settled and comfortable at the castle, Isabelle and I will have plenty of time for private conversation.” He smiled at Isabelle. “We can take a walk to the Grecian temple. Do you remember it?”