Of course he hadn’t, because he didn’t allow himself to feel that deeply about anyone. Not even a cute little redhead with pearly skin and a smile that lit up a room. Not even when she rocked him to the core with her sensuality. Not even when she made him, for the first time in his life, think of babies and time that stretched on for ever. Not even when she made him think that maybe, maybe they would be different. The one couple who could make it.
But no. No. No. No. No. No. How many times did he have to say it? He didn’t allow himself to think along those lines.
He had seen too much. Felt too much. Hurt too damn much to want any of it. He was glad Holly had left. He had been a fool to bring her to Paris. Paris? The City of Love? What a joke. It was the city of disappointment.
The city of bitter, gut-shredding disappointment.
He paced the room, part of him splitting off in his mind and running after her, just like he had run after his mother all those years ago. He had clung to her, pleaded, begged her to stay to keep their family intact. But his mother had shaken him off as if he were a piece of lint clinging to her designer outfit. Nothing he had said or done had been able to change her mind and so he had stopped begging and pleading. He had made a promise to his ten-year-old self that he would never beg. Never plead.
Never love.
Zack drew in a breath but his chest felt tight. Tight and painful like he was having an asthma attack. But it wasn’t asthma—it was reality coming home to roost. The reality that if you gave people the potential to hurt you, that was exactly what they did. Time and time again. Like clockwork. Didn’t he see it every day at work? The walking wounded came into his office and begged him to fix things for them.
But he was no magician. He couldn’t restore people’s feelings to make them what they had once been. People got together and then they parted. Some parted with bitterness, some parted with politeness. He was fine with that. He made a living out of that—a decent living, a living other people envied.
Then why did he feel a strange sense of disquiet...as if his life was lacking something?
Holly wasn’t in love with him but was apparently worried she might do so. What sort of crazy excuse was that? It was taking self-protection to a whole new level.
Like you can talk.
Zack clenched his jaw until his molars threatened mutiny. Okay, so his conscience had made a good point, but he wasn’t interested in falling in love. He didn’t have the falling in love gene. He had too much pride to go after Holly. What would be the point? He didn’t want to fall in love with her either.
He’d been a fool to think she’d be satisfied with a temporary fling. She had fairy tale written all over her. He wasn’t after the fairy tale. The princes and princesses of the fairy tale ended up in his office, paying him to represent them in dirty divorces. And he had enjoyed the dirty ones the most. Relished the role of getting justice for those who had been hard done by in a relationship.
It was his tagline, for God’s sake—Get Zack Knight and Get Even.
But why, standing in this empty hotel room, did he feel as if something essential to him, something he couldn’t function without had walked out of that door with Holly?
* * *
Holly caught the first flight she could back to London, wincing at the amount of money she was spending on a short-notice flight. But she had to get away. She couldn’t waste any more time wishing and hoping Zack would change his mind and come after her. She’d made a gamble in expressing her feelings but it had failed. Miserably, painfully failed.
If he cared anything for her, wouldn’t he have come after her? But no. He didn’t want to spend for ever with her. He used terms of endearment but he didn’t mean them. Had never meant them. Not like her parents meant them. Affectionate and tender terms that signalled a long-term commitment to the other’s happiness.
Hadn’t she spent her entire life witnessing it and wanting it for herself?
Holly looked down at her empty ring finger. How stupid had she been to think that ring had represented something? How naïve to think he had actually cared about her. He didn’t care. He was incapable of it. He had locked away his heart, surrounded it with an impenetrable fortress.
Why, oh, why had she chosen yet another man who didn’t have the capacity, the willingness to love her?
* * *
Holly was back at work on Monday morning, making an arrangement for a mother with a newborn baby, another one of her previous wedding clients who was experiencing the fairy tale that had so far eluded her. She looked up from her handiwork when Sabrina came in carrying coffees on a cardboard tray.
Sabrina didn’t have her usual bright chirpiness about her, but who was she to talk?
‘Okay, so what happened? How come you didn’t stay the whole week in Paris?’ Sabrina asked, making Holly regret texting her as she’d boarded the plane last night. She needed more time to think, to reflect over how things had panned out.
She needed more time to heal.
‘It started well and ended badly. But I’d rather not talk about it.’
Sabrina frowned and handed Holly a flat white with two sugars. ‘Good. Then I won’t tell you about my disastrous weekend either.’
Holly took a sip, welcoming the much-needed caffeine. ‘Let me guess. You ran into Max Firbank at a family function.’
Sabrina’s cheeks flared with vivid colour. ‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you what happened between me and Max on Saturday night.’
‘Try me.’
Sabrina perched on one of the workbench stools and sighed. ‘I don’t know what came over me. Seriously, I need therapy or something. We were at a mutual friend’s dinner party. Why I agreed to go, I have no idea. I didn’t bring my car as it was in the workshop being serviced—I didn’t get back in time on Friday to pick it up. Max offered to drive me home and then...’ Her blush deepened and she continued, ‘We kind of...kissed.’
Holly nearly spilt her coffee. ‘Seriously?’
Sabrina screwed up her face. ‘I know. I know. I know. It was a stupid thing to do, but we’d been arguing on the way home, you know, like we nearly always do. We arrived at my flat and he walked me to the door and then we were inside and alone with the door closed. I was mid-sentence and suddenly he took me by the arms, pulled me towards him. I thought he was about to kiss me but then he seemed to stop himself. So then I kind of moved my mouth closer to his...’
‘And?’
Sabrina’s tongue touched her lips as if she were recalling that stolen kiss. ‘It was just a kiss. Nothing else. It was over almost as soon as it began, as if he despised himself for kissing me. And then he left.’
‘Did you...enjoy it?’
Sabrina gave a crack of laughter but it didn’t sound convincing. ‘Why would I? I hate him. Always have, always will. But enough about me. Tell me what happened in Paris?’
Holly let out a jagged sigh. ‘I came back early.’
‘But why?’
Holly ran her finger around the cardboard rim of her cup. ‘I couldn’t maintain the pretence any longer. I told him I was worried about falling in love with him. He didn’t take it too well.’
Sabrina frowned. ‘But you are in love with him, right? I mean, it’s pretty obvious to me you are.’
Holly looked at her friend with the intention of denying it, but then she realised it would be pointless. She did love Zack. She had loved him from the first kiss. Wasn’t that why she had agreed to their ‘engagement’? Wasn’t that why she’d gone with him to Paris? She loved him with all her heart. The heart she had never opened to anyone quite like that before. Her previous relationships were a cheap imitation, but her love for Zack was the real deal. Real and lasting and oh, so terribly painful.
‘Yes, I am in love with him. But he hasn’t got the capacity to love. He would never allow himself to be that vulnerable.’
Sabrina’s expressio
n folded in empathy. ‘Oh, Holly, I’m so sorry. But you’ve only been dating such a short time. Maybe he needs a little more time.’
‘I can’t spend another minute of my life hoping a man will fall in love with me,’ Holly said. ‘Zack’s had barriers up from the start. He won’t fall in love with me because he won’t allow himself to. I can’t be with a man who only gives me his body.’
‘It’s one heck of a body.’ Sabrina’s mouth twisted. ‘Almost as hot as Max’s. But I did wonder if things would turn out like this. Zack’s not the settling down type.’ She blew out a sigh. ‘Just like Max.’
Holly stared at her friend. ‘Are you sure you hate Max as much as you make out?’
Sabrina couldn’t have looked more sheepish if she had her hand stuck in a double chocolate-chip cookie jar. ‘It was a pretty awesome kiss.’
Holly knew all about pretty awesome kisses. They made you fall in love. Hard. ‘Are you going to see him again?’
Sabrina gave a tight-lipped smile. ‘Not if I can help it.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ZACK STUBBORNLY REFUSED to fly back from Paris until he was good and ready. He’d paid good money for the hotel and the conference and he wasn’t going to waste it. But there was no city worse for being on your own than Paris. It wasn’t called the City of Love for nothing. Everywhere he looked there were couples walking hand in hand or arm in arm. He even walked past a wedding party on Wednesday in the Jardins des Tuileries and he felt sick to his stomach. Who was so desperate to get married on a weekday? There goes another couple of silly fools. He spoke the words in his head but strangely, instead of feeling his normal cynical amusement, he felt...sad.
Deeply, miserably sad.
Was this how his father had felt after Zack’s mother left him? Like the colour had been taken out of his days? Was this ache in the region of his heart, this tugging, tearing, torturous ache, what his father had felt for the last twenty-four years? No wonder his dad had barely functioned. Zack was barely functioning himself. He was a zombie walking through the streets of Paris, one foot moving in front of the other like a robot with a rundown battery.
He had to get a grip on himself. He wasn’t that ten-year-old kid any more who cried himself to sleep because he wanted his family to stay together. People came and went in his life all the time and he was fine about it. Perfectly fine. Holly had made her choice and he would be fine with it too.
Eventually.
But shouldn’t he make an announcement that their ‘engagement’ was over? For some strange reason, he felt reluctant to do so. Not just because of the way the press would carry on, but because he needed time to think. It was still too new, too raw, which was weird because he’d never felt raw after a break-up before. Relief was what he normally felt. He’d seen what a bad break-up could do to a man. He’d been picking up the pieces of his father for decades. Zack had somewhat ruthlessly avoided any involvement with a woman who had the potential to devastate him.
Why, then, was he feeling so damn devastated?
* * *
Holly was expecting the news about her third broken ‘engagement’ to go viral on social media but, strangely, nothing was reported. Was Zack intent on keeping the charade going? But why? He hadn’t even contacted her. Not even a text message. She didn’t want to be the one to report their break-up, even though she had called her parents and told them everything. It had been strangely cathartic to do so. Her mother and father had been their usual wonderfully supportive selves, reassuring her that one day she would find true love.
If only Holly could believe it.
The good news was her business was still on the rise. Wedding bookings were being made just about every day. Whatever negative energy had been around before had gone. But it was a special type of torture sitting down with a bride-to-be and helping her choose bouquet designs for her wedding. A heart-wrenching torture because Holly wished she were planning her wedding.
Her dream wedding to the only man she could ever love.
* * *
Zack dragged himself to attend a dinner his dad had organised in order for him to meet his new partner, Kayla. He’d told his dad Holly couldn’t make it but he hadn’t gone into any details. He wasn’t ready to cross that treacherous bridge just yet.
He sat through a delicious home-cooked meal Kayla had prepared but he might as well have been eating sawdust. Watching his dad and Kayla interact was a painful reminder of how much he missed Holly. Hadn’t he looked at Holly like his dad was looking at Kayla? He still hadn’t contacted her since he’d come back from Paris. He kept picking up his phone, his fingers hovering over the screen, but then he would draw a blank. What could he say? Come back to me?
No way would he ever text something like that. He didn’t have a begging bone in his body. He was the one who said when a relationship was over. So Holly had got the better of him? He could deal with it. He’d dealt with rejection before. His mother had left him as well as his father and he’d handled that, hadn’t he? Handled it so well he had never been rejected again...
Until now.
Zack closed his eyes on a tight blink, but even behind his eyelids he could see her. Holly. Gorgeous, sensuous Holly with a smile that could melt steel and a body that could send his hormones into a seizure.
‘Is everything all right?’ Kayla glanced at his barely touched meal. ‘You’re not eating.’
Zack picked up his knife and fork and forced a smile. ‘Sorry. I’m not all that hungry.’
His dad exchanged a knowing look with Kayla. ‘He’s lovesick, that’s why.’ He picked up the freshly baked bread rolls that were in a basket and handed it to Zack. ‘It’s a shame Holly couldn’t make it tonight. We’re dying to meet her, aren’t we, darling?’
‘Absolutely,’ Kayla said, smiling. ‘She did the flowers for my niece’s wedding. They were amazing.’
‘Yes...she’s pretty amazing.’ Zack took the roll but he knew it wouldn’t get past the lump in his throat. Of course Holly was amazing. Everything about her was amazing. She’d ended their fling because she hadn’t wanted to fall in love with him. Newsflash. He was in love with her. Desperately in love. Ridiculously and against all odds in love because no one had rocked his world like her. No one ever would because Holly held the key to his locked-away heart. Her feistiness, her fighting spirit, her phenomenal sensuality had kicked away the barricade around his heart like someone kicking away soggy cardboard.
How could he not have realised until now he had feelings for her? Feelings that had been there from the moment he’d met her. The connection he’d felt had been on a cellular level. The feelings had frightened him so much he had disguised them, hidden them, suppressed them. Denied them. But they were refusing to be ignored. They were clamouring inside him, ballooning in his chest until he could scarcely take a breath.
‘Are you okay?’ Kayla leaned forward in concern.
Zack pushed back his chair and tossed his napkin to the side. ‘I’m fine. I’m great.’ He gave a laugh, a shocked-sounding laugh because he’d been so blind about how he felt. ‘I’m in love.’
Kayla and his dad exchanged another look and reached for each other’s hands.
‘But of course you are,’ his dad said with a wide smile. ‘Welcome to the club.’
* * *
Holly was spending a quiet night at the flat, sketching some bouquet designs for a wedding next month. There was a knock on the door and she groaned. Why couldn’t Mrs Fry ask for a cup of sugar like normal people? Three days in a row her landlady had knocked at her door to report some supposed misdemeanour of one of the neighbours. Holly suspected her landlady’s visits had more to do with Mrs Fry’s desire to find out why Zack hadn’t been around since he’d picked her up for the Paris trip. She’d noticed Mrs Fry glancing at her bare ring finger a few times but, unusually for her, hadn’t said anything.
Holly rose from the sofa, went to
answer the door and her heart leapt when she saw Zack standing there holding a huge bunch of red roses.
‘Hi...’ she said.
‘Can I come in?’ His voice had an odd note of uncertainty as if he wasn’t sure of his welcome.
‘Sure.’ She opened the door wider and he came in, bringing the scent of roses and cool night air with him. She closed the door and directed him to take a seat on the sofa but he shook his head and came closer, holding the roses out to her.
‘For you.’
‘They’re gorgeous, thank you...’ Holly took the bouquet and breathed in the heady fragrance of the roses.
With an impatient sound, Zack grabbed the roses off her and put them to one side and took her by the hands. ‘We’ll get to the flowers later. I have something important to get off my chest. I’ve been a fool, my darling. A stupid, stubborn fool, who was too blind, too frightened, too cowardly to recognise the feelings I have for you. I love you. Can you forgive me for not telling you sooner?’
Holly was so shocked, so pleasantly, blissfully shocked she stood frozen, not sure she trusted what she’d heard. ‘You...you love me?’
His eyes were so soft and warm it brought tears to hers. ‘So, so much. I think I fell in love with you at Kendra’s divorce party.’ His voice choked over the words and she knew then it was true. He loved her. He really loved her.
Holly threw herself into his arms and he picked her up and turned her in a circle, his face wreathed in smiles. ‘I love you so much,’ she said, gazing into his suspiciously moist gaze. ‘I love, love, love you.’
He pressed a series of kisses all over her face, hugging her so tightly she could barely breathe. Then he set her back on her feet and kept his arms around her as if he never wanted to let her go. ‘Please do me the honour of becoming my wife. I want to spend for ever with you. I want the fairy tale—our fairy tale, because I know with every fibre of my being that no one could ever complete me, excite me and fulfil me like you do.’
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