Breaking All Their Rules

by Sue MacKay

  She was aware of Zac even before he said, ‘Looking fantastic.’

  Zac. Those few minutes in the elevator had been torture. Her nostrils had taken in his spicy aftershave, while her body had leaned towards his without any input from her brain. When he’d looked like he’d been about to hug her she’d at least had the good sense to move away, even when internally she’d been crying out to have those strong arms wound around her. Now she stamped a big smile on her face and acknowledged, ‘It is.’ Too bad if the smile didn’t reach her eyes; hopefully Zac wouldn’t notice.

  ‘You’re not happy about something.’ He locked that formidable gaze onto her. ‘Give.’

  Once again she’d got it wrong when it came to second-guessing him. ‘The florist’s running late, the wineglasses haven’t been set out, the band assured me they’d be set up by four and…’ she glanced at her watch ‘…it’s now three twenty-five.’ And you’re distracting me badly. I want you. In my bed. Making out like we used to. Actually, I’d settle for that hug.

  ‘We can do this. Tell me what you want done first.’ His eyes lightened with amusement, as if he’d read her mind.

  He probably had. How well did she know him? Really? They hadn’t been big on swapping notes on family or growing up or the things they were passionate about. Only the bedroom stuff. Shoving her phone at him, she said, ‘Try the band. Their number’s in there. Eziboys.’

  ‘You’ve got the Eziboys coming to this shindig?’ Admiration gleamed out at her. ‘What did you have to do? Bribe them with free plastic surgery for the rest of their lives?’

  With a light punch to his bicep she allowed, ‘One of them went to school with Andy’s younger brother. They want to help the family.’

  ‘Not your formidable charm, then?’ He grinned a full-blown Zachary Wright grin, one that was famous for dropping women to their knees in a begging position.

  Click, click. Her knees locked and she stayed upright. Just. ‘Phone them, please.’ Begging didn’t count if she remained standing. Anyway, she wanted the band at the moment, not sex with this hunk in front of her looking like he’d stepped off the cover of a surfing magazine. Another lie.

  Zac was already scrolling through her contact list. ‘Got a dance card? I want the first one with you. And the second, third, and fourth. Oh, I know, I’ll put those in your diary for tonight.’

  Dance card, my butt. How out of date could he get? ‘You’ll be inundated with offers.’ Did he really want to dance with her? She’d never survive. What little control she might exercise on her need would sink without trace if he so much as held her in his arms, let alone danced with her. Anyway, he wasn’t making sense. He’d been peed off when she dumped him, so he wouldn’t want to get close to her on the dance floor. Or did he have other plans? Plans that involved payback? Tease and tempt her, then say bye-bye?

  As Zac put the phone to his ear he shook his head. ‘If you didn’t want dancing tonight you should’ve gone to the retirement village to find a group of old guys with their tin whistles to play for us.’

  ‘I enjoy dancing.’ Just don’t intend doing it with you.

  ‘I didn’t know that. Looking forward to it. Looks like your florist has arrived.’ He nodded in the direction of the doors, then went back to the phone. ‘Jake, is that you, man? How’re you doing?’

  Olivia stared at Zac. He knew Jake Hamblin, the band’s lead guitarist? That could be good for getting the band to actually turn up. Zac was full of surprises. Hadn’t he said something about the florist too? Spinning around, she came face-to-face with a neat and tidy woman dressed in black tailored trousers and an angora jersey under her jacket. Nothing flower-like about her. ‘You’re the florist? I’m Olivia Coates-Clark.’

  The woman nodded, sent Zac a grin. ‘That’s me. I see the flowers finally turned up. Show me exactly where you want these arrangements and I’ll get on with it.’

  Zac was handing the phone back to Olivia. ‘How’s things, Mrs Flower?’ That really was her name. ‘Your hip still working fine?’

  ‘You were the surgeon. What do you think?’

  Zac’s laughter was loud and deep, and sent pangs of want kicking up a storm in Olivia’s stomach. ‘Good answer,’ he said.

  So he knew this woman too. Probably used her for sending beautiful flowers to all his women. Ouch. He’d sent her flowers when she’d dumped him. A stunning, colourful bouquet of peonies, not thorns or black roses, as well he might’ve.

  ‘Do we have a band?’ she asked in her best let’s-get-on-with-things voice.

  ‘Filling the service elevator with gear as we speak,’ Zac said. ‘What’s next? Want those buckets of flowers moved somewhere?’

  The band was on its way; the flowers were about to be fixed. Olivia shook her head in amazement. Two more ticks on her mental list of outstanding things to get finished. Things just happened around Zac. Somehow it had all got easier with him here. ‘We need two long tables up against that far wall for the auction. The hotel liaison officer went to find them an hour ago.’ She needed to display the gifts that’d been donated.

  ‘Not a problem.’ Did he have to sound so relaxed?

  The clock was ticking. That long soak she’d planned on in the big tub in her room upstairs before putting on her new dress, also from the shop where she’d got her coat, might just be a possibility. ‘Easy for you to say,’ she snapped.

  Zac took her arm and led her across to where the florist was already wiring irises into clever bunches that were going to look exquisite. ‘You explain where you want everything and try to relax. We’ll get this baby up and running on time. That’s a promise.’

  ‘I am relaxed.’

  ‘About as relaxed as a mouse facing down a cat. A big cat.’ He grinned and strolled away before she could come up with a suitable rejoinder.

  Very unlike her. She always had an answer to smart-ass comments. Watching Zac’s casual saunter, she noted the way those wide shoulders filled his leather jacket to perfection. Her tongue moistened her lips. No wonder she wasn’t thinking clearly—the distractions were huge and all came in one package. Zachary Wright.

  CHAPTER THREE

  AN HOUR LATER, Zac handed Olivia a champagne flute filled with bubbly heaven. ‘Here, get that into you. It might help you unwind.’

  ‘I can’t drink now. I’ve got to finish in here, then get myself ready.’ Her taste buds curled up in annoyance at being deprived of their favourite taste. But she had a big night ahead of her so having a drink before it had even begun was not a good idea.

  With the proffered glass Zac nudged her hand—which seemed to have a life of its own as it reached towards him. ‘One small drink will relax you, Olivia.’ He wrapped her fingers around the cool stem. ‘Go on.’ There was a dare in his eyes as he raised his own glass to his lips.

  Zac knew she never turned down a dare. But she’d have to. Tonight’s success rested on her being one hundred and ten per cent on her game. Her mother had taught her well—go easy on the alcohol or make a fool of herself. Not going to happen tonight when everyone’s eyes would be on her.

  Zac’s throat worked as he tasted the champagne. Appreciation lit up his eyes. His tongue licked his bottom lip.

  And Olivia melted; deep inside where she’d stored all her Zac memories there was a pool of hot, simmering need. The glass clinked against her teeth as the divine liquid spilled across her tongue. And while her shoulders lightened, tension of a different kind wound into a ball in her tummy and down to her core. ‘Delicious,’ she whispered. Zac or the wine?

  He nodded. ‘Yes, Olivia, it is. Now, take that glass upstairs to your room and have a soak in the hot tub before getting all glammed up. I’ll see to anything else that needs to be done here before I go across to change.’

  She went from relaxed to controlled in an instant. ‘No. Thank you. I need to check on those flowers and—’

  ‘All sorted.’ From the table he handed her an iris that been tidied and then tied with a light blue ribbon. ‘Take this up w
ith you.’

  Even as she hesitated, her hand was again accepting his gift. What was it with her limbs that they took no notice of her brain? ‘My favourite flower.’

  ‘That particular shade matches your eyes perfectly.’

  ‘Wedgwood. That’s the variety’s name.’ She stared at it, seeing things that had absolutely nothing to do with this weekend. Or Zac. All to do with her past.

  When she made to hand it back he took her hand and held it between them, his fingers firm. His thumb caressed the inside of her wrist. ‘Who does it remind you of?’ Very perceptive of him.

  How had she walked away from this man? She must’ve been incredibly strong that day, or very stupid. ‘My father used to grow irises.’ Before he’d left because he’d been unable to cope with his wife’s drunken antics. And I could? I was only twelve, Dad.

  Tugging free from Zac’s hand, she stepped back a pace. ‘Why are you helping me?’ He hadn’t decided to target her for sex, had he? Or was that her ego taking a hit? Zac never had trouble getting a woman; he didn’t need her. Even if what they’d had between them had been off the planet.

  Zac’s eyes held something suspiciously like sympathy. She hated that. She didn’t need it, had finally learned how to deal with her mother by controlling her own emotions, not her mother’s antics. The same tactic kept men at a distance. Except for Zac, she’d managed very well. When she’d shocked herself one day by realising she cared about him more than she should she’d immediately called the whole thing off. No one would ever leave her again. No one could ever accuse her of being a slow learner.

  ‘I’m here because you needed help.’ Zac tapped the back of her hand to get her attention. ‘I’m alone, as in no partner, so doing stuff behind the scenes isn’t going to get anyone’s back up. I figured you’d be pleased, not trying to get rid of me.’

  I’ve already done that once.

  The words hung in the air between them, as though she’d said them out loud. She hadn’t, but her cheeks heated, as if she was blushing. Not something she was known for. ‘I’m sorry for being an ungrateful cow.’ She sipped from her glass while she gathered her scattered brain cells into one unit. ‘It’s great you’re here. I’d still be trying to persuade that florist into doing things my way if you hadn’t worked your magic on her.’ She’d felt a tad ill at the ease with which he’d managed to convince the florist that her way was right. ‘You also got that kid behind the bar to arrange the glasses in a much more spectacular pyramid than he’d intended.’

  ‘While you charmed the floor manager into putting a dog basket in the corner for the seeing eye dog. It’s against all the rules apparently.’ Zac’s smile was beautiful when he wasn’t trying to win a favour. Too damned gorgeous for his own good. And hers.

  ‘A blind person is allowed to take their dog anywhere.’

  ‘But not necessarily have a bed for the night in the banquet room.’ That smile just got bigger and better, and ripped through her like a storm unleashed.

  She needed to get away before she did something as stupid as suggesting he give her a massage before she got dressed for the night. Zac’s hands used to be dynamite when he worked on her muscles. He’d done a massage course sometime during his surgical training and was more than happy to share his ability with anyone needing a muscle or two unknotted. He’d done a lot more than that with her at times, but tonight she’d settle for a regular massage to get the strain and ache out of her shoulders.

  Another lie. She gulped her drink, but forgot to savour the taste as the bubbles crossed her tongue. Lying wasn’t something she normally did, not even to herself, as far as she knew.

  ‘Here.’ Zac held the champagne bottle in front of her, and leaned in to top up her glass. ‘Take that up to your room.’

  ‘You’re repeating yourself.’

  ‘Didn’t think you’d got the message the first time.’ Taking her elbow, he began marching her towards the elevators where he pressed the up button, and when the doors whooshed open he nudged her in. ‘See you at pre-dinner drinkies.’

  ‘I’ll be down well before six.’ As the doors closed quietly Oliva drew in his scent and along with it a whole heap more memories. The night ahead was stretching out ever further. She’d tried again to change the seating arrangement at the tables, but couldn’t without upsetting someone else. She sighed. Have to swallow that one and hope she’d be too busy to sit down.

  Olivia tapped the toe of her boot until the elevator eased to a halt on her floor. Surprisingly she had nearly an hour to herself, thanks to Zac’s help. Plenty of time to wrestle into submission the strong emotions she’d never expected to feel for him again. Then she could carry on as planned: friendly yet aloof. So far her approach had been a big fail.

  Inside her room she began shedding clothes as she headed for the bathroom and the tub she wanted full, steaming and bubbling.

  After turning the taps on full, she poured in a hefty dose of bubble bath and shucked out of the rest of her clothes. Removing her make-up, she saw a goofy smile and happier eyes in the mirror than she’d seen in a very long time.

  Hey, be careful.

  Why was she excited? She didn’t want another affair with the man. It had been hard enough walking away from the first one; to do that again would kill her. Even though their affair had had little to do with anything other than sex, she’d stumbled through the following weeks trying to get back on track. It had her wondering for the millionth time how her father had walked out on her and her mother without a backward glance. He’d had more to lose, yet every communication from him—not many—had come through a lawyer. No birthday cards, Christmas phone calls. Nothing. Her dad had vanished from her life. And that was that.

  Slipping into the warm water and feeling the bubbles tickle her chin eased every last knot of tension from her taut body. Sure, it’d make a comeback, but for the next twenty minutes she’d enjoy the lightness now in her muscles, her tummy, her everywhere. That might help with facing Zac tonight.

  Olivia knew she had to be on her best form because their friends wouldn’t be able to refrain from watching her and Zac, looking for any hints of dissension or, worse, any sign they might be interested in each other again. Not a chance, folks.

  Lying back, her eyes drifted shut and she watched the movie crossing her mind. Zac looking good enough to devour in one sitting. That well-honed body still moved like a panther’s, wary yet smooth, the same as the expression in his eyes. Unbelievable how much she’d missed that body. Missed everything about Zac. There’d been the odd occasion they’d shared a meal, because when anyone had had as much exercise as they’d had together they’d got hungry and what had gone best with after-match lethargy had been great food. Ordered in from some of Auckland’s best restaurants, of course. The only way to go.

  What she’d never seen in his eyes before was that concern that had shown when he’d moved her towards the elevator. Concern for her well-being, and then there had been the flower, the champagne—which had shown he’d remembered she only drank wine, and then usually this nectar. Yes, she pampered herself, but there was no one else to. Except her mother, and she got her fair share of being looked after.

  Was it possible Zac had missed her an incy-wincy bit? She’d never ask. That would be like setting a match to petrol. Anyway, he’d never admit it, even if it came close to being true.

  Hah, like you’d admit it either.

  *

  Zac prowled the small crowd pouring into the banquet room, and for the tenth time glanced at his watch. Six o’clock had been and gone twenty minutes ago and there was no sign of Olivia. So unlike her. If anything, she’d have been back down here, ready to get things cranking up, almost an hour before it was supposed to start.

  ‘Hey, Zac, good to see you.’ Paul Entwhistle stepped in front of him. ‘How have you been?’

  ‘Paul.’ Zac shook his old mentor’s hand. ‘I’m doing fine. What about you? Still creating merry hell down there at Waikato?’ The older man had taken o
ver as director of the orthopaedic unit two years ago, citing family reasons for leaving the successful private practice he’d set up here in Auckland.

  Paul gave him an easy smile. ‘I’ve semiretired to spend more time with the family. What about you? I couldn’t believe it when I heard you and Olivia had parted. Thought you’d never be able to untangle yourselves long enough to go in different directions.’

  Zac swallowed a flare of annoyance. This was only the first of what he had no doubt would be many digs tonight about his past with Olivia. ‘Aren’t we full of surprises, then?’ Instantly he wished his words back. Paul had been a friend to him as well as teaching him complex surgical procedures that he now used regularly. The man certainly didn’t deserve his temper. He tried again. ‘There was so much going on at the time something had to give.’

  That was one way of looking at it. He knew from friends that Olivia ran with the crowd these days and never with another man. He didn’t get it. She’d been fun, and always hungry for a good time. But apparently not since them. Did that make him responsible for her change? Had he done something he was completely unaware of to cause her to dump him and become a solo act? He’d always been honest in that he’d had no intention of having anything more than a fling with her. She’d been of the same sentiment. Neither of them had been interested in commitment. Yet it still sucked big time that she’d pulled out. He hadn’t thought he could feel so vulnerable. Why would he? He’d spent his life guarding against that.

  ‘I get that, but never thought it would be your relationship that would stop.’ Paul unwittingly repeated Zac’s thoughts as he looked around the room. ‘Where is Olivia anyway?’

  Twenty-five past six. ‘I have no idea. I’ll give her a call.’ Walking away to find somewhere quieter, he dialled her cell. Yes, he still had her numbers, just never used them. Deleting them should’ve been simple, but he hadn’t been able to, even when he’d been angry with her for walking away.