Ben cut the engine, shrugging when Zoë looked questioningly at him. ‘I just want to check that nothing untoward has happened with regard to the reception. Ross told me he’d cancelled everything but you never know.’
‘Still set on being the perfect best man?’ Zoë said lightly, but he heard the tension in her voice and guessed that she was afraid it was merely an excuse to prolong their time together.
Was it? he wondered suddenly. And if so, why? He didn’t want her back—no way on earth would he wish for that! It had taken him months to get over her and he wasn’t going through that kind of hell again. He’d done what he’d wanted to do, spent the best part of the day with her, and come through it unscathed, so why did he have this niggling feeling that they still had unfinished business? What else did he need to prove? That he was so immune to her he could spend the night with her and walk away in the morning without any regrets?
‘I want to be sure that I’ve carried out my duties to the very best of my ability,’ he told her, reeling from the thought.
‘Such dedication! I am impressed.’
Zoë laughed and Ben breathed a sigh of relief when it broke the spell. Zoë may have hurt him, but there was no way that he would use her to his own ends like that.
The receptionist must have spotted them coming in because she immediately hurried into the office and reappeared with the manager in tow. Ben’s heart sank when he saw how uncomfortable they both looked as he and Zoë approached the desk. He could only conclude that some mishap had occurred relating to the wedding reception. However, the man ignored him and addressed Zoë.
‘I’m terribly sorry, Dr Frost, but there’s a problem with your room.’
‘What sort of problem?’ Zoë asked, glancing at the receptionist, who was doing her best to avoid their eyes.
‘Unfortunately, a guest on the floor above forgot to turn off the bath taps and the water came through the ceiling of your room.’ The manager looked suitably repentant. ‘Sadly, the room is too badly damaged for you to spend the night there so I took the liberty of having your belongings moved.’
He lifted a key off its hook and handed it to her. ‘Fortunately, we had a cancellation so we were able to move you to a suite. I’m sure you won’t be disappointed, Dr Frost. It’s our most luxurious accommodation. And by way of apology for the inconvenience you’ve suffered, we would like to offer you and a guest a complimentary dinner tonight.’
Ben glanced at the key Zoë was holding as the manager scuttled away. All the keys had name tags attached to them and he could read the tag attached to this one without any difficulty. His eyes rose to Zoë’s and he was unable to control the smile that twitched the corners of his mouth.
‘They say every cloud has a silver lining. If the wedding hadn’t been called off, you could have found yourself sleeping on a park bench.’
‘Instead of which I’ll be sleeping in the Honeymoon Suite.’ Zoë looked at the key then burst out laughing. ‘I don’t believe this is happening!’
‘You will when you get to sleep in that fabulous bed,’ Ben assured her.
‘You’ve seen the room?’ she exclaimed and he sobered abruptly.
‘Yes. I came with Ross when he booked it for him and Heather. The manager showed it to us then.’
He took a quick breath but the image of Zoë lying in that huge old-fashioned bed with its muslin canopy filled his head to the exclusion of everything else. It was the room he would have chosen to spend the night in if they’d been getting married, he realised, and the thought was too painful to bear.
‘It sounds lovely,’ she said softly and he heard an echo of what he was feeling in her voice.
His gaze locked with hers and he felt a shiver run through him. Zoë may have rejected him two years ago but she still wanted him. He could see it in her eyes, see the longing, the yearning, and he understood how she felt because he felt it too. Oh, he hadn’t lived like a monk these past two years—far from it. He’d been out with a lot of women, even slept with a few, and it had been fine in a way. However, each and every time he had found himself comparing them to Zoë, and unfavourably too.
He needed to break the cycle, forget what he and Zoë had had, and this may be the only way to do it. If he slept with her tonight, he could rid himself of the last emotional ties. It wouldn’t be using her, either, because he could tell it was what she needed too. Zoë needed to draw a line under the past the same as he did.
Reaching out, he captured her hand. ‘It’s a beautiful room, Zoë, the perfect place for two lovers to spend a night. I only wish we could spend tonight there. You and me. Together. It could be our swansong, the perfect ending to what we once meant to each other.’
Soft light filled the room, casting shadows into the corners. Dinner had been served and eaten, although neither of them had done justice to the delicious meal. Zoë caught a glimpse of herself in the window as she drew the curtains and was surprised by how calm she looked, how in control. Inside she was a mess, anticipation making her nerves tingle, her blood heat, her body tremble as though she had a fever. Maybe she did, too, and that’s why she had agreed to this. Spending the night with Ben for any reason was madness: she knew it and so must he.
She spun round to tell him that she had changed her mind and stopped. Ben was sitting on the sofa, his eyes closed, his face looking set even in repose. He was as worried as she was about what they were planning and the realisation comforted her in a strange way. Ben was under no illusions. He knew this night would mark the end for them.
The thought left her feeling empty, but she had learned a long time ago how to conquer her emotions. She went over to the couch, sat down and took Ben’s hand in hers. His eyelids flickered although he didn’t open his eyes. Maybe he needed a second or two more to prepare himself, and she understood. In that respect they were perfectly in tune.
Her heart filled with warmth and if she was honest it also filled with love but that was the most dangerous of all emotions and one she rarely acknowledged. Sliding her fingers between his, she let her palm rest against his, enjoying the warmth of his skin, the shape and strength of his fingers—so different to her own. Ben had such beautiful hands and she had always loved to have him touch her, stroke her, caress her…
Her breath caught on an audible hiss and his eyes opened. Zoë felt a shaft of desire run through her when she saw the expression they held. Ben wanted her. He wanted to make her his and have her make him hers. He wanted it so badly that she could feel his desire for her swirling around them as they sat there, side by side, their fingers entwined.
‘Are you sure about this, Zoë? Really sure?’ His tone was filled with passion and tenderness in equal measure. Zoë’s heart swelled because it was more than she’d expected and far more than she deserved.
‘Yes.’ Her tone was cool and she felt relieved when she heard it. She was still in control, still able to function on other levels instead of on only the most basic. ‘It’s what I want, Ben, but are you sure it’s what you want?’
‘Yes. I’m sure.’ He leant forward and brushed her mouth with his lips. ‘It’s what I need to do.’
He deepened the kiss, effectively cutting short any further discussion, although Zoë would have been hard-pressed to string two words together. It felt as though her brain had stopped functioning, thoughts flitting about
