years.
With everyone else he was guarded. He never dropped his defenses. He never talked about his past.
He’d cried in front of her. He had allowed real, raw weakness and emotion to escape in her presence when he never even let himself give in like that in private. She was under his skin. So much so she felt like she was a part of him.
A necessary part.
What if he lost her? No, it wasn’t even a matter of if, it was when.
The terror that thought evoked, the absolute, gut-wrenching horror was a sobering as a punch to the jaw. He was playing a game he had no business playing, flirting with things he shouldn’t be. Tempting feelings he couldn’t risk having.
He slid out of her hold and she stirred briefly, stretching, arching her back. His mouth dried. He shook his head and bent to collect his clothes, dressing and walking out of her bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him, ignoring the continual stab of pain in his chest.
He paused in her living room for a moment, the weight of the familiarity of his surroundings crushing him, a feeling of claustrophobia overtaking him.
He had to leave. He had to think. He had to find his control.
He walked out her front door, closing it behind him and making sure everything was locked so that she would be safe. He walked out into the cold night, sucking in a deep breath and blaming the cold for the pain that came with it.
“Where were you this morning? When did you leave?” Clara whispered the words when she went into Zack’s office in the early afternoon. He’d been out of the office all morning, and he had been very noticeably not at her apartment before that.
“I had some things to do,” he said, his voice flat. “Could you bring me a coffee?” His phone rang and he picked it up. She stomped out of the room and picked up the freshly brewed pot that was sitting in the main area of the office. She poured a half a cup and dumped powdered creamer in, no sugar, and stirred it halfheartedly with one of the little wooden sticks that was on the coffee station.
There were still little lumps of powder floating on the top.
She went back into his office and plunked it onto his desk, letting some of it slosh over the side. He didn’t flick her or the coffee a glance as he continued his phone call. He picked it up and took a sip then grimaced and set it back down, shooting her an evil look. She responded with a wide, saccharine smile.
“I’ll call you back,” he said into the phone, hanging up. “Do you have something on your mind?”
“Yes. Where were you this morning, and do not give me another half-assed answer.”
“Clara, there’s a way I conduct physical relationships. I don’t always stay for the whole night.”
She felt like he’d slapped her. Like she was just the same as every other physical relationship he had. But she wasn’t. She knew she wasn’t.
Anger made her scalp feel prickly. “Don’t give me that. Don’t even try. I made you shake last night. Made you lose control.” Boldness came from anger, and she could’t regret it.
His eyes glittered and he looked like he might pounce on her. But he didn’t. “I just went home, so that I could get a good night’s sleep. I have to go over some legalese in the contract I’m having drawn up for the deal with Amudee. That’s all.”
That wasn’t all. She knew it wasn’t all. But she didn’t know what the rest of it was, either, so that didn’t help.
“And that looks like it’s going to go through?” she asked, looking down at the ring again, the ring she was starting to hate, willing to let the subject drop, for now.
“Looks like, but nothing is finalized. So we’re still in this until the ink is dry.”
She nodded. “I know.”
It was all about the contract to Zack. Last night … she could have sworn that last night something had changed. There had been more in their lovemaking. There had been fun. Their friendship had been in it.
It had been special.
Well, today things felt different. It just wasn’t the sort of different she’d been hoping for.
“I’ll be down in the kitchen,” she said, eager to get away.
It was going to take a whole lot of cupcakes to make this day feel okay.
The next few days Zack really did manage to be busy and stay busy. He didn’t stop by her apartment late at night, or any time of day. Her head hurt and her bed felt empty. Which was silly, since her bed had been empty of anyone other than her for twenty-five years.
It was just the past couple weeks she’d had Zack sometimes. And she found she really liked it, and it wasn’t just because of the orgasms. It was just listening to him breathe. Feeling his body heat so close to hers. Just being with him, finally, finally able to express how much she wanted him. To not have to hold such a huge part of herself back from him anymore.
She loved the way he made her feel about herself. That he wanted her in a sexy red dress, or yoga pants, or nothing. That he made her feel beautiful. That he made her see things in herself she hadn’t seen before.
And if she told him that he’d undoubtedly run away screaming.
Tonight, the contracts remained unsigned and that meant they still had plans to go to the big charity event. Something to do with a children’s hospital. She wondered if that was by design. If it would bother him. Make him think of his son.
Her heart hurt every time she thought of Zack’s past. Of what that false front of his was created to hide. To hide what he’d been through, who he really was. He had perfected a persona, controlled, light, charming, and even she had bought into it. Not even she had seen everything.
But she was starting to.
Tonight was going to feel more like a real date. A public event with just the two of them, not with Mr. Amudee sitting by, watching their performance as a couple. She was dressing up in a dress she’d selected this time. Something between her usual fare and that screaming, sex-on-a-hanger number Zack had picked out for her.
It was a full-length gown with a mermaid-style skirt that conformed to her body before flaring out around her knees. It swished when she walked, and a halter-top neckline showed her cleavage. And she felt sexy in it. She felt like a woman who was ready to conquer the world. One who could outshine other women, at least for the man she was with. And that was what mattered, anyway.
She heard a knock on her door and she tried to shove her feet into stilettos, while standing, and fastening dangly diamond earrings. “Coming!”
She opened the door and all the air rushed out of her body. Zack was a wearing a suit, black jacket, crisp white shirt and a perfectly straight black tie. He was the epitome of gorgeous. He always was, half dressed, all dressed or completely naked. But there was something about a man in a suit.
It sort of reminded her of his wedding. The wedding that wasn’t.
“You look … you look great,” she said.
