Past Lies Read online

  “Past Lies”

  by Kim Rees

  The lies were no protection. Not anymore…

  Anna Shrewsbury is trapped.

  The whims of her sister control her life. She wants to be free…and she thought her brother-in-law had helped her find freedom with his last act. But instead, she seems to be the butt of one of his infamous jokes.

  She now has a half share in a company she doesn’t want, while her childhood home and her promised sanctuary is bequeathed to a man who hates her. And then there’s the deal. She has to live a week with him. A whole week with Zachary Quinn.

  For six years, a shield of lies has protected Anna. But in beginning a new life, she must break away from those lies. Be prepared to face Zach’s fury. And his passion…

  Warning, this title contains the following: more sexual tension than you can shake a stick at…

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  512 Forest Lake Drive

  Warner Robins, Georgia 31093

  Past Lies

  Copyright © 2007 by Kim Rees

  Cover by Vanessa Hawthorne

  ISBN: 1-59998-453-9

  www.samhainpublishing.com

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: April 2007

  Past Lies

  Kim Rees

  Dedication

  To Jessica, for hand holding.

  To Mark for answering panicked emails.

  To Sasha Knight for saying, “Add another 10k.”

  To Vanessa Hawthorne for being so patient with me about the cover.

  And to Edwin. Never would have finished this without you… *huge hugs*

  Prologue

  He hadn’t seen her in six years.

  Zach winced. That wasn’t exactly true. He had caught glimpses of her, laughing, chatting, but mainly leaving. Yes, mostly he had the memory of Anna Shrewsbury’s back.

  If he were sensible, that’s the way he should leave it. Today, however, he didn’t feel sensible. Anger knotted in his gut. He had just buried his partner and friend, Gregory Brabant, and he wasn’t in the mood to be tolerant.

  Zach scratched a hand through his hair and watched her take the hand of another concerned mourner; give the same weak, tired smile she had given to every other man.

  The knot in his gut twisted tighter.

  Had it become so practised now that it was second nature?

  He knocked back his whiskey and was striding across the room before he realised. “Where’s Sophia?”

  Anna blinked, took a back step. Her hands tightened and her attention fixed on them. “She’s resting. I think the strain of the day is too much for her.”

  Her voice was soft, shaky. Zach glared down at her but could only see golden strips of sunlight crossing her shining hair. He shoved his hand into his pocket. He would not touch her. His fingers curled tight. “So she left you here to sort everything.”

  “He was more than a brother-in-law to me, Zach.”

  Zach. His name on her lips stabbed an old pain through his chest. And that was just stupid. “Of course he was.”

  Her head snapped up. Her pale skin had flushed and fire sparked in her dark brown eyes. “He was.” She stared around the room. Zach followed her gaze as it fell on the quietly murmuring mourners, most drinking one of Gregory’s favourite malts. The cinema room was thick with people, interrupting the view of Gregory’s beloved west garden. “I wanted to organise this wake. For…for him.”

  She swallowed and the shine of tears coated her eyes.

  “You don’t need to perform the act with me, Anna.” He stared at his empty glass, wanting more so the sour burn could mask the fire already scorching his gut. “I’ve seen it too many times this morning. It’s wearing thin.”

  “You’re contemptible.” Anna gripped the wet handkerchief in bloodless fingers. “If Gregory hadn’t wanted you here, I’d throw you out, right now!”

  “You do indignation so well.”

  “Just leave me alone, Zach.”

  “No.” He snagged another glass from the long, white-clothed table behind Anna. “I think it’s time I told you what I thought of you.”

  “This is hardly the time—”

  “This is exactly the time.”

  He stared. She had just walked away, disappeared into the short stairwell that led up from the cinema room to the kitchen. Zach cursed under his breath and followed her.

  “Anna.” He twisted past the caterers, dumped his glass on a countertop and grabbed at her arm in the hallway. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

  “I am not having a fight with you in front of Gregory’s friends.” She wrenched her arm free.

  “Then we’ll have it here.”

  Her chin lifted. “If that’s what you want.”

  Tension tightened his neck, his shoulders. What was he doing? He should leave her alone. He didn’t need the scandal of being seen with a woman like her. But this was Anna, even when he hated her all he could see was the soft redness of her mouth. The remembered taste of her seared his tongue and the same old fire burned through his blood.

  No. She would finally know what he thought of her. And then he would be finished with the damn woman.

  “Here is just fine,” he grated. He tugged the kitchen door shut. His gaze fixed on her. “You’re a leech, Anna Shrewsbury.”

  She blinked and was silent.

  “No denial? No little playacting to appeal to my better side?”

  “You don’t have a better side.” She turned away from him again. “And if that’s all you have to say—”

  “No. It isn’t.” He caught her, pinned her against the wall. That soft red mouth trembled and he was so close to covering it with his own. The press of his hips into hers almost made him groan. “I want…” He couldn’t speak.

  “What, Zach?” Her dark eyes held his and he could see the need there. Her body was supple, pliant. Her hips moved, shifted tantalisingly against his. He groaned. “But can you afford me?”

  The words soured his desire and familiar hatred replaced it. “It always comes down to the money with you.” He stood back from her and had the sudden urge to scrub away her touch. Her scent filled him.

  “Yes, it does, doesn’t it?” Anna’s smile was sharp. “But then you don’t expect anything else.” She brushed a hand over the rumpled front of her black shift dress. “I think it would be better if you leave now. You’ve paid your respects.” Her fingers had found her handkerchief again and started to fold and refold it. “Thank you for coming.”

  “So you are throwing me out.”

  Her dark gaze narrowed on him. “I’m amazed you made it here at all, Zach. That precious business even kept you from his deathbed.”

  Zach flinched. “I didn’t—”

  “Whatever.” Anna looked grey, tired, and Zach had a twinge of unexpected guilt. Damn it, the woman made him insane. “Just go, Zach.” She disappeared back into the kitchen. “I avoid you for a reason.”

  He just caught her fading words.

  There was that tightening in his chest again.

  Zach ignored it.

  Chapter One

  Anna tugged at her skirt.


  Too short. Why had she believed Sofia when she said the beautifully tailored, but very short suit looked good on her? It was also a deep and burning red. Well, at least it matched her face. A grimace cut her mouth. Why did she listen to her sister, at all?

  The lift pinged.

  Anna straightened, resisting the last pull at the hem that ended too many inches above her knee. Mirrored steel doors slid back with a soft whoosh. Pale carpet stretched out before her and into a maze of steel and glass offices. The scent of polish. People hurrying past, the air thick with their voices.

  The heels of her long boots sank into the deep carpet. Another of Sofia’s suggestions. Why did she listen to her sister’s fashion advice?

  Because Sofia would make her life hell if she didn’t.

  Anna blew out a long, slow breath. “This is it.” She willed herself to be calm, but her heart thudded.

  Just a meeting with Gregory’s solicitor. That’s all it was. Her skin felt hot, flushed. She didn’t have to be this nervous. She didn’t.

  Her nails cut into her palms.

  It was just so hard to believe he was gone.

  “Ah, Ms. Shrewsbury.”

  Anna bit at her lip, looked up and made herself smile. “Mr. Petersen.”

  She held out her hand and lost it to the old man’s warm, heavy grip. His sharp eyes fixed on her. “I missed you at the funeral. I just want to say how sorry I am. How sorry we all are. Gregory Brabant was a good friend.”

  Her smile felt fake. “Thank you.”

  “Now, if you could just head to my office.” He pointed down the long, glass-lined corridor. He smiled, something warm and reassuring. Yet Anna found she couldn’t breathe any easier. This was too important to her. “I just have to get a few more things together.”

  “All right.”

  Anna watched him stride away. She fought the urge to scrub at her face as she turned down the corridor. Gregory had promised her. He said he had changed his will. That the house and the surrounding land would be hers. That Sofia would get none of it.

  It had been their secret, hers and Gregory’s. Every penny Anna had ever earned she had offered to him. But then he got sick and she had dropped the subject. Gregory was the one to bring it up again. He knew he was dying.

  “Just go straight in.”

  Anna nodded her thanks to the Senior Partner’s PA.

  Her hand closed around the cold, steel handle. Yes. Sit in Carl Petersen’s office. Stare out to the wide, plant-thick balcony overlooking the river and try just to breathe in and out. Find her calm place.

  Gregory had promised.

  And he had always been a man of his word.

  Anna just wished the cold knot of dread in her stomach wasn’t there.

  Carl Petersen’s office was much as she remembered it. Clean, clinical. Sunlight filtered through the wide, floor-to-ceiling windows, the shifting shadows of his numerous plants casting intricate patterns. The long blinds were closed on the inner, glass wall, blocking the stares of the staff.

  For that, Anna was grateful.

  She sank into one of the chairs set before his wide, neatly arranged desk. The soft scent of flowers drifted in. Anna breathed deep. Her heart started to patter and a shiver ran over her skin. What was he growing out there? It was…intoxicating.

  Smiling to herself, she pulled at the hem of her skirt. It was worse now that she was sitting down. Far too much thigh. Yes. She could imagine one man’s reaction to how she was dressed.

  No. He would not invade her thoughts that day.

  There were more important things to consider than a certain Zachary Quinn.

  Her fingers ran along the hem of her skirt, nails skimming the soft fabric. She stared at her whitening knuckles and realised that her heart was thudding. Slow breaths. Slow. It was ridiculous that their brief exchange, a few words, should have her so rattled.

  But then it wasn’t just his words.

  “Anna…”

  Her heart jumped. Those measured tones, the subtle hint of disapproval. Hearing him as clearly as if he were right there.

  “…Shrewsbury.”

  Her head snapped up.

  Damn.

  More than damn.

  Anna’s face flushed red raw, the heat of it scorching her skin. She knew she should speak, say something, anything, but her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. Dry. Useless. And all she could do was stare.

  Zachary Quinn.

  He was there, standing in the open doorway to Carl Petersen’s terrace.

  Sunlight cast him in thick shadow, but the tall, straight frame was unmistakeable. At least to her. She had been avoiding it for six years. Light flickered a false halo of gold around his dark hair and she watched the familiar smoothing down of his jacket, his tie. Quiet. Calm. Collected. She hated that about him.

  It forced words. “What are you doing here?” She heard the slow exhalation of his breath. And in his shadowed face, she made out the beginnings of a sharp grin. Her gut tightened. “Well?”

  “Just as polite and well-mannered as I have come to expect.”

  “For you? Always.”

  The grin curled and Anna stopped her hands from fidgeting. Why was he here? “Did Carl Petersen double book?”

  “So it would seem. Well…”

  He moved.

  Anna scrambled out of her chair.

  Her plan for six long years jumped into action. Avoid. And if she couldn’t do that, maintain distance. Always.

  Steel blue eyes narrowed on her. His mouth flattened. “I was invited here, Anna.”

  No. That had to be wrong. “I’m here for the reading of Gregory’s will. Mr. Petersen said—”

  Zach drew closer.

  Anna found herself gripping the back of the chair, fingertips digging into the cool leather. He was out of the shadows now, sunlight cutting across his profile. Her heart missed a beat. She hated him. She did. But that couldn’t stop her from knowing, knowing how beautiful he was.

  She stomped on those thoughts and made herself hold his hard gaze.

  “Are you trying to defend yourself, Anna?”

  His attention fixed on her clenching hands and his smile deepened. His gaze lifted. A glimmer of wry humour shone there. “Hardly necessary, I assure you. I can contain myself.”

  Anger twisted a knot tight, aching in her gut. Overreacting. He always made her feel as if she was overreacting to him, making her feel stupid. She straightened and pulled her hands away from the comfort of the chair. She lifted her chin. Fine. He’d been invited. She could sit with the man for the short time it took to read the rest of Gregory’s will. Couldn’t she?

  But surely, Carl would have told her about Zach? Anna wet her lips. “Why…?”

  A spike of silver shone in his eyes. They narrowed. Firm lips curved and Anna found herself staring, staring…

  “…can I contain myself?” Zach’s voice was like a slow run of honey over her heated skin.

  Anna blinked. It was suddenly hard to breathe, her chest tight, trapped. She had to get away. Had to.

  “You shouldn’t ask me questions like that, Anna.”

  She shook her head, trying to force some sense back. This was Zach. He enjoyed playing games like this. A game. Always a game. That reminder made a smile cut her mouth. “Why did he invite you, Zach? That was my question.” She saw a carafe of water on a side table. Good. An excuse to move further away. And it would not look like running. Which it wasn’t. “Anything else is just in your mind.”

  She closed her fingers tight around the handle and willed her arm not to shake. Cool water splashed into a crystal tumbler. With the glass in her hand, she turned back to him. Zach hadn’t moved. “Well?”

  “I’m a beneficiary.”

  Anna blinked. “I thought everything had been sorted last week? That this was an oversight?”

  There was his patronising smile that he saved just for her. Her fingers crushed around the glass. “No. It seems”—he glanced to the neatly stacked pap
ers on Carl Peterson’s desk—“that Gregory set these particular bequests aside as a stipulation in the will.”

  “You snooped through Carl’s papers?”

  “You’d like to think that of me, wouldn’t you?”

  Anna had never met a man she’d wanted to slap more. “Fine.” She bit out the word. “The sooner this is over with the better.”

  “Yes.”

  A slowly drawn-out word and she found Zach’s attention sliding over what she was wearing. Heat burned in her face. Again. Only he ever looked at her that way, appraising but…irritated. She would never be good enough. Anna cut out those thoughts too. Whether Zach found her even remotely attractive was completely unimportant.

  “Have you finished?”

  “I am always impressed by your fashion sense.”

  “What I wear has nothing to do with you.”

  His smile made her grit her teeth. He delayed on the length of exposed thigh. “Obviously not.”

  She would not give him the satisfaction of getting angry. Anna willed herself to breathe. Slow. Even breaths. She focused on the clear water in her glass. Watched the light reflect, refract.

  “That skirt should only have a private audience.”

  Anna felt the blush to the roots of her hair. Damn Sofia. But she would never admit to him that she hadn’t chosen these clothes. That she wasn’t perfectly confident, comfortable in them.

  “Surely, you must be used to these comments, Anna.”

  She glared at him. The smug, sanctimonious— “What I wear has nothing to do with anyone else. It doesn’t suggest anything, invite anything.”

  His features hardened. “You knew I’d be here.”

  Anna bit down on a curse. Everything always revolved around him. Always had. Always would. “D’you really think I’d be standing in this office if I knew you would be here?” A bitter laugh escaped her. “I do my very best to avoid you, Zach. That must be obvious. Even to you.”

  “Really?”

  She would not rise to that bait.

  Instead, she escaped to the balcony. Get away from him. That was always the safer option, because sometimes… Anna could still feel the heat in her cheeks. Sometimes she would begin to fall into the intense blue of his eyes. And then her body, her senses, would start to remember.