by Abby Green
‘That’s rather underhand of you.’
‘I promise my intentions are very honourable. If you feel uncomfortable in any way, I’ll take you wherever you want to go.’ He made a crossing his heart motion.
Zoe didn’t trust him for a second. But it was more that she didn’t trust herself, if she was totally honest. She unclicked her seatbelt and watched as Maks uncoiled his tall frame from the driver’s seat to come round and help her out.
She was more intrigued than she liked to admit to see where he lived.
The door opened as Maks approached as if by magic. A middle-aged Asian man dressed in dark trousers and dark long-sleeved top greeted Maks.
‘Hamish, I’d like you to meet Zoe Collins.’
The man stepped forward at the door, smiling and holding out his hand. ‘You’re probably wondering how I came by a name like Hamish? I was born and brought up in Scotland when my parents emigrated there from Vietnam. I’m Maks’s housekeeping manager. Please, come in.’
Zoe was charmed by him and his soft Scottish burr. ‘Nice to meet you, Hamish.’
She walked into a sleek marbled hallway, decorated in tones of dark grey and silver. Understated. Elegant.
She heard Hamish say, ‘I’ll park the car, boss. Angie said dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes.’
‘Thanks, Hamish.’
Maks came and took Zoe’s hand again. She must have looked dumbstruck. He led her down the hall and into a sumptuous but again understated reception room. He let her hand go and walked over to an exquisite walnut drinks cabinet. It looked like a piece of art, not furniture.
‘Would you like a drink?’
Suddenly Zoe relished the prospect of some fortification. ‘A glass of white wine, if you have it?’
Maks came back with a glass of perfectly chilled white wine. He had a tumbler of what looked like whisky. He lifted his glass. ‘Cheers. Welcome to my home.’
‘Cheers.’ Zoe took a sip of wine, appreciating the dry crisp taste.
‘Please—sit, make yourself comfortable.’
Zoe looked around. There was an assortment of low couches and footstools set around glass tables covered in the latest coffee table hardbacks. Except these actually looked as if they’d been thumbed through, their edges slightly frayed.
She chose a seat on its own and watched as Maks sat down on a couch at a right angle to her, resting one arm along the back. Utterly relaxed. Yet full of taut crackling energy.
‘You have a beautiful home,’ she said.
Maks looked around. ‘It’s probably not what you were expecting.’
Damn his perceptiveness. ‘I’m that easy to read?’ she asked.
‘It’s refreshing. I’m used to people freezing their emotions with enough chemicals to put an animal to sleep for a year.’
Zoe couldn’t stop a huff of laughter. ‘I have to admit I would have expected something less...discreet. Maybe a penthouse apartment.’
Maks made a face. ‘That’s more my brother Sharif’s style. He likes to be far above mere mortals, high in the sky.’
Zoe took a sip of wine. ‘What’s he like?’
‘Driven.’
‘What about your other brother... Nikos?’
‘He used to live like a nomad, keeping apartments in our various hotels. But all that looks to change now that he’s married and settling down. A wife and baby don’t really go with a nomadic lifestyle.’
Zoe’s insides tightened. Marriage. A baby. Family. Her worst fear. Her most secret dream. She shut it down. She’d vowed never to put herself at risk of feeling that loss and pain again, no matter what moments of yearning she felt.
Maks swirled his drink. ‘What about you? What kind of home would you aspire to live in?’
Zoe felt like pointing out tartly that she was perfectly happy where she was, but she knew no one could claim that. It was damp, dingy, and surrounded by concrete jungle.
But before she could say anything she was assailed by the memory of a house in Ireland... Dublin. On the coast...high above the Irish Sea. With acres of green lawn. A big golden house with windows like shining, benevolent eyes. Flowers blooming along borders. A shaggy dog.
Her mother, standing on the steps, calling, ‘Come on, you two. It’s time to go...’
And then her father, lifting her up so high she could hardly breathe, swinging her around and then down, into his arms...
She’d felt so safe. So loved. So happy.
‘Zoe? Are you okay?’
She blinked and saw Maks sitting forward, frowning. ‘You’ve gone as white as a ghost.’
Zoe swallowed down the memory. It usually only came in dreams that turned into nightmares. ‘I’m fine. I just...’
What had they been talking about?
She forced a smile. ‘I don’t know where I’d like to live... I hadn’t really thought about it. I’m happy where I am.’
Maks was relieved to see some colour come back into Zoe’s cheeks. For a moment he’d been afraid she was about faint. She’d looked stricken.
A light knock came to the door. It was Hamish. ‘Dinner is served when you’re ready.’
Maks watched Zoe stand up, graceful. She walked out ahead of him, following Hamish, and he noted the unconsciously sensual way she moved. A cynical part of his brain kicked into gear. Was it really unconscious? Or was he so jaded that an act of wide-eyed innocence had him hooked like a gasping fish on a line?
Even if it was an act, he told himself, it didn’t negate the fact that he wanted her more with each passing moment. And he was confident that as soon as he’d had her she’d lose her allure and her air of mystery. He didn’t want to explore her mysteries. He just wanted to explore her.
CHAPTER FOUR
ZOE LEANED BACK and wiped her mouth with her napkin. She hadn’t eaten such a delicious meal in a long time. Maks’s personal chef, Angie, had served up a simple roast chicken and in-season vegetables, followed by the lightest, zingiest lemon tart Zoe had ever tasted.
Angie came back in to clear the plate and Zoe looked at her. ‘Seriously, that was sublime. I wish I could cook like that.’
Angie smiled and looked at Maks. ‘I like her—she doesn’t behave as if the staff are invisible.’
Maks sent a glower at Angie, who left the room smiling, totally unperturbed. Witnessing Maks’s easy and egalitarian interaction with his staff made Zoe feel off-centre. Once again, it wasn’t the way she would have expected someone like him to behave.
Maks stood up. ‘Come into the lounge for some coffee?’
Zoe stood up. ‘Sure.’
Dinner had passed easily. Too easily. They’d conversed about topics as diverse as Irish history, politics, and the latest Marvel movie. It turned out they were both Marvel movie buffs.
But there was still an uneasiness she couldn’t shake. She’d trusted a man before—someone she’d known since she was young. And he’d betrayed her heinously and almost violently.
She knew even less about Maks, and yet her instincts were telling her she could trust him. That he wouldn’t harm her. Physically. Dean had hurt her physically—or had tried to. But he hadn’t left any deep emotional wounds. Zoe sensed that Maks posed a wholly different threat.
‘What are you thinking about?’
Zoe turned around from where she’d been looking at the books on Maks’s shelves, with her coffee cup in her hand. He was sitting on the couch again, sipping from his own steaming cup, looking so gorgeous that he took her breath away.
She came over and sat down on a couch opposite, with a small table in between them. She noted how a gleam came into those silver eyes, as if he knew exactly how skittish he made her feel. How achy...how needy. But also how scared.
Maks kept his eyes on her and put down his cup. He stood up and came around the low table, sat down on the couch near he
r.
Zoe’s insides somersaulted. She desperately searched for something to say.
‘What Angie said...about people thinking the staff are invisible...who was she talking about?’
Great—now he’d think she was fishing for information on his girlfriends.
Maks said, ‘I host dinner parties here sometimes.’
‘I guess I know what she means...most people are dismissive of those in the service industry.’
Maks winced. ‘Or they get them fired.’
‘That too.’
Zoe couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t seem to remember what she’d been worried about. Maks was close enough to touch. To smell. To want. Every part of her clamoured to be closer.
Damn him. Why wasn’t he taking the lead?
Maks shook his head, a small smile playing around his mouth. ‘Your move, Zoe. If you want me, all you have to do is show me. It’s not complicated. I can hear you overthinking this from here.’
Zoe wanted to scowl. But even before she knew she’d made the decision she’d put her coffee cup down on the low table and scooted closer on the couch. She couldn’t not. The clamour in her body had become a sizzle.
She was fixated on his mouth. She reached out and touched it experimentally with her finger, tracing the shape...
* * *
Maks was burning up. He wanted to grab Zoe’s hand and tug her all the way into him until he could feel every curve of her body pressed against him. Until he was drowning in her sweetness.
But he held back. Something told him that her reticence wasn’t an act.
For a moment he had a jolting moment of wondering if she might be—
But that dissolved in a rush of heat when she leaned all the way forward and pressed her mouth to his.
* * *
Maks’s mouth was firm under Zoe’s. Her breasts were pressed against his chest. It felt like a steel wall. A warm steel wall.
His mouth wasn’t moving.
Zoe was in too deep now to pull back. Her brain cells were melting. She pressed closer, angled her head slightly. She opened her mouth and let the tip of her tongue explore the closed seam of Maks’s mouth.
And that was when she realised the level of Maks’s restraint, as he put his hands on her arms to haul her up and even closer, so she was sprawled across his chest, letting him take her weight.
She lifted her head, looked down, aware of her hair falling around her face. For once she wanted to push it back, so she could see him. He did it for her, tucking it behind her ears. It was a surprisingly tender gesture amidst the inferno building in her blood.
It had never felt like this with—
Maks caught her head and pulled it down, so their mouths touched again. Except this time there was no doubt who was the instigator. Even though he was under her, Maks controlled and dominated the kiss with an expertise that made Zoe’s heart race.
He opened his legs so she was between them, her lower belly pressed against the place where the evidence of his arousal was hard. As hard as the rest of him.
Except his mouth was soft now, coaxing her to be bolder, more daring. To use him. She funnelled her hands through his hair, holding his head, exploring his mouth as if she’d never kissed a man before. And she hadn’t...not like this. Not as if she was an adventurer in a new undiscovered land.
* * *
Zoe was killing Maks with a thousand tiny innocent kisses. With the most chaste foreplay he’d ever indulged in. Either she was a wanton seductress who knew exactly what she was doing and was laughing at him for his restrained response, or she really was as gauche as her kisses.
Except gauche kisses had never turned him on like this. He had never been so close to climax with his clothes on.
He moved her so that she lay under him on the couch, looking up at him with those huge sea-green eyes, her hair tumbled around her head, cheeks flushed, mouth plump and moist.
He gritted his jaw when his erection pressed uncomfortably against his trousers. His thigh was between her legs and he moved it subtly against her, seeing how her eyes widened at the friction.
He lowered his mouth to hers again, to find it open, willing. She put her arms around his neck. His chest expanded. He explored the seam of her top above her trousers, delving underneath to find bare silky skin, pushing it up until he encountered the lace-covered swell of her breast. Small, but perfect. Plump.
He squeezed her flesh gently and she gasped into his mouth. A little hitch of breath that ramped up his arousal to excruciating levels.
He tugged on her lower lip, biting gently as he pulled down the lace cup of her bra, his knuckles brushing against the soft swell of her breast. He pulled back and looked down. Her breast was perfect. Her nipple small and hard...pink. He couldn’t resist, bending his head and exploring that hard tip with his tongue, feeding her to himself as if she was a succulent morsel...
* * *
Zoe was drowning in heat. Sensations were piling on top of sensations so fast she couldn’t breathe. Maks’s mouth was on her breast, tugging, licking, and it was the most exquisite form of torture she’d ever been subjected to.
Then he was pulling up her top and exposing both breasts to his hands, his mouth.
Zoe’s head rolled back. His thigh was between her legs, where she ached. As if he knew exactly what she wanted he moved subtly, so that the sensation spiked like a sharp knife-point.
It was too much... She couldn’t get her head around how fast things were moving. In spite of all her rationale, telling herself this was different—way different from what had happened before—she suddenly felt trapped. Very aware of Maks’s weight on top of her, holding her down.
She put her hands against his chest and pushed, but he didn’t move. Panic flared, eclipsing pleasure. She pushed harder.
Maks pulled back, his eyes molten, cheeks flushed. ‘Che cosa, cara?’
He wasn’t even talking English.
Panic was making Zoe fight for breath. ‘I can’t... I can’t breathe.’
Maks reared back. ‘Zoe? What is it?’
She scrambled up and back, drawing her knees up to her chest. She shook her head. Already the waves of panic were receding, leaving her feeling cold and ridiculous. This wasn’t the same situation.
‘I... I’m sorry. It was just all going so fast... I felt trapped.’
In contrast to hers, Maks’s clothes looked a bit rumpled but were still on. She felt dishevelled. Awkwardly, she straightened her clothes.
Maks got up and went over to the drinks cabinet. He came back holding two glasses.
He handed her one. It held dark golden liquid. ‘Here, take this.’
She took a sip, watching as he threw the liquid in his own glass back. She winced inwardly. The drink had a warming, numbing effect.
He sat down, giving her plenty of space. ‘What was that, Zoe?’ Maks looked pale. ‘Did you think I was going to...to force you?’
She shook her head, an immediate and visceral rejection of that rising up inside her. ‘No. No. Not at all.’
She couldn’t think straight when he was looking at her like that. She put down her glass and got up from the couch, pacing away from Maks. Walking to a window that reflected back her own image. It was dark outside.
She owed him an explanation. At no point had she really felt unsafe or pressured. It had been her own demons.
She turned around. ‘Someone else did, though. My ex-boyfriend. I trusted him and he...’
Maks surged to his feet. ‘He raped you?’
Zoe looked at Maks. His face was stark. She shook her head. ‘No, but he almost did. I managed to stop him, get him out of my apartment.’
The memory of that awful night made Zoe shiver. The awful full, ugly truth of why Dean had sought her out again.
‘Who was he?’
Maks’s voice
was like steel. In that moment she had a premonition of what it would be like to face a far less benign Maks. She’d faced him once before, when they’d first met.
‘Someone from my past. It doesn’t matter. He’s gone now. He’s not in this country.’
Maks was finding it hard to absorb everything Zoe was telling him. She looked so vulnerable, standing on her own, arms folded tight across her chest. The thought of someone forcing themselves on her made him feel sick. But also livid. She was so petite. Slight... He wanted to go over to her, but he felt she wouldn’t want that. Not yet.
She lifted her chin. ‘The truth is that...as you may have already guessed... I’m not that experienced. In fact not experienced. At all.’
Maks frowned. ‘Are you saying that—’
‘I’m a virgin, yes.’
Her words were quick. Clipped. His instinct had been right. A swell of something that felt like possessiveness rose up inside him. Primal. Mine. And relief to know she hadn’t been subjected to a terrible assault.
She said, ‘So, I know that that’ll probably change things.’
Maks focused on Zoe. ‘Change...how?’
She suddenly looked unsure. ‘Well, you won’t...you can’t find that attractive.’
Maks’s body begged to differ. ‘Really? And why would that be?’
‘Because you’re experienced...and I’m not. Most men don’t find inexperienced women a turn-on.’
‘I’m not most men.’ Now Maks folded his arms, bristling at the thought that she was comparing him to her ex. Her bullying abusive ex. He could see her throat work as she swallowed.
‘So...what are you saying?’ she asked.
Yes, Maks, what are you saying? That you want to be this woman’s first lover and risk all the emotional entanglements that come with that?
Maks forced the heat haze out of his brain. He had to be careful. He normally steered well clear of situations like this. He had to let Zoe know the kind of person he was.