haven’t,” she said, turning away from him again and heading down the stairs, eager to avoid being in an elevator with him, he imagined.
“Oh, really?”
“Mmm. I have been virtuous. I’ve wanted to say and do many things in the past week that I haven’t.”
“Why do I feel disappointed by that news?”
“I don’t know. You shouldn’t be,” she said, her stilettos clicking and echoing in the stairwell. “You should be thankful.” She pushed open the exterior door and they both walked out into the cool evening air.
“I find I’m not.”
“I can’t help you there.”
Something hot and reckless sparked in him. She must have noticed because she backed away from him until she bumped against his car. That was a picture, Clara, in scarlet silk, leaning against his black sports car. The fantasies that were rolling through his mind should be illegal.
“I wish you could,” he said, taking a step toward her.
She shook her head. “There’s no help for either of us.”
“I’m starting to think that might be true.”
He wanted to kiss the red off her lips. He wanted to take her back upstairs and do something about the unbearable ache that had settled in his body more than a week ago and hadn’t released him since.
“Let’s go. We have a dinner date,” he said, his voice curt, harsher than he’d intended.
She nodded and went around to the passenger side and he let out a long, slow breath, trying to ease the tension in his body.
Being with her once hadn’t helped at all. One night hadn’t been enough.
But there wouldn’t be another night. There would be no point to it.
“THANK you for doing that,” Zack said, once they were back in the car and away from the presence of the man they were putting on the show for.
Dinner had gone well, and it looked like everything was on track for Mr. Amudee to sign the exclusive deal with Roasted. It turned out he was thrilled that Zack was marrying a woman he worked with, a woman who understood and shared his passion for the business. It was one of the things, they’d found out over dessert, that had placed Zack slightly ahead of his rival at Sand Dollar. Because Amudee felt Zack and Clara were working together, and the owner of the other coffee-shop chain would be spending more time away from his family.
So, just another way their farce had helped. She still didn’t feel good about it.
“You’re welcome.”
“I’m serious. I should have thanked you before.”
“Gourmet dinner after a week in Thailand? I’m not all that put out by it.” A big lie, and they both knew it.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” she said. “About freaking out about the dress.”
“Not a big deal.”
Tension hung thick in the air between them. She just felt … restless and needy. The kiss, the one they’d shared in his office, still burning her lips.
It was only supposed to be the one time. Just once. In Chiang Mai, not here.
“I really liked my … salmon,” she said. It was lame but she didn’t want to leave Zack yet. Didn’t want to get into her cold, empty bed and slowly die, crushed beneath the weight of her sexual frustration.
A dramatic interpretation of what would actually happen, but she felt dramatic.
“You didn’t have salmon.”
“I didn’t?” she asked.
“No. You had … I think you had chicken.”
“Oh.”
The only thing she could remember about dinner was trying not to melt every time Zack looked in her direction.
“So … I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” she said slowly, reaching for the door handle.
“Wait.” She froze. “I have a nice vintage wine at my house. I’ve been meaning to have you come and try it,” he said.
She moved away from the car door, letting her back rest against the seat again. “Really?”
“Yes. Do you want … You could come over and have some?”
Zack could have cut his own tongue out. As pickup lines went, it was a clumsy one. He shouldn’t be handing her pickup lines at all, clumsy or otherwise. They’d committed to only sleeping together one time, and the fact that he was so turned on his entire body had broken out into a cold sweat shouldn’t change that. Once should have been enough. But it wasn’t.
He watched her face, watched her eyes get round, her mouth dropping open. As if she’d just realized what the hidden question was.
It was hidden. If she said no, they could both pretend that it wasn’t another night he was after. They could brush it under the rug. Simple.
“Now?” she asked.
He nodded once.
“I don’t.” She looked at her apartment building for a moment, her hands folded in her lap, toying with the fabric of her skirt, twisting it. “I’d love some wine.”
“Good.”
He turned the key over and the engine purred as he pulled away from the curb and headed out of the city, toward the waterfront.
Zack’s house was a marvel, grand and pristine, massive windows with views the bay and the Golden Gate Bridge. It was a physical testament to the wealth he’d accumulated since he started his business. How much he had done. How far he had come on his own.
Every time she came over, she stopped and looked at the gorgeous, stained-glass skylight in the entryway. Not this time, though. This time, she didn’t have energy to focus on anything beyond Zack and the desire that was roaring through her body. Desire that was finally going to be satisfied tonight.
A week without him, without him inside of her body, had been far too long of a wait.
He closed the door behind them and stood still, poised near the door. He looked like a predator lying in wait. The thought of it, of being the object of his desire, heated her from the inside out.
When he moved, it was quick and fluid. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her deep and long, his tongue stroking against hers, the evidence of his arousal hard and tempting against her body.
“You’re sure?”
“No,”
