Past Lies Page 7

  “So if I did this…”

  The ached for burn of his mouth scorched over hers. His hands coursed her ribs, hips and for an insane second she let her body mould itself to his. This was so much better than pale memory. The solid feel of him under her searching hands. The angry clash of lips, tongues, teeth. Anna rubbed herself against the solid length of his erection, stoking the fire in her blood. God, she wanted him. She had always wanted him.

  “…you’d take me right here.”

  The raw growl against her skin jerked her back. Sense crashed into her dazed brain. Rage and desire warred in his eyes and Anna’s insides shrivelled. Why him? Why did she want a man who despised her?

  “Not today, Zach.”

  “You can’t help yourself, Anna.”

  “And neither, it seems, can you.”

  Zach hated the fact that she was right.

  Dalton’s fat, smirking face still burned in his mind. That and what he had muttered when Anna banged the office door. “Such a feisty girl. I enjoyed her, immensely.”

  Zach had wanted to slam Dalton’s head through a wall.

  His gaze raked over her pale face. He fought the insatiable need to have her, the very real ache that demanded he bury himself in her and make her forget that other men existed. This wasn’t him. His gut knotted. Hadn’t been for six, very long years. “Let’s get out of here.” He waved her on towards the lifts.

  “I never slept with that odious man.”

  “This subject is closed.” He didn’t want to find himself wrapped in more of her lies, not when he was stuck in a lift with her. The subtle hints of vanilla, the clean scent of her skin caught in the air and still lingered on his tongue. The taunting ache in his body was almost unbearable.

  “I’m telling you the truth. He’s not. Eric Dalton’s a close friend of Sophia. I met him three years ago. He…he propositioned me. I poured a jug of iced water over his head.”

  “I’m not discussing it, Anna.”

  “Fine.” She presented him with her back. “You’re obviously not familiar with the truth.”

  “From you? I have no idea.”

  Had that been a little gasp? Zach wished he could find the solitude of his apartment. Maybe then he could be calm and rational about Anna. A sour laugh echoed in his mind. But then, nothing about Anna had ever made him feel sane.

  “Did he say I was good?”

  “Anna.”

  She turned and her dark brown eyes were bright and hard. “Did he? Did he go into detail? Is that what fired you up, Zach?”

  “No!”

  She stood so close he could almost feel the imprint of her body over his. Her gaze slid down. “Are you sure?” Her finger toyed with his belt buckle. Zach’s blood pounded. “And how do I know you’re telling the truth?” Her fleeting caress of the bulge in his trousers made him expel a sharp hiss. She stepped back.

  The lift doors opened. Her smile was brittle. “Think about who you would rather believe. Me or him.”

  Zach cursed under his breath and followed her across the marbled atrium.

  He had a bloody week of this. It would kill him.

  ˜™

  Zach climbed into the car and sat in a stony silence.

  She had to ask. “We’re going to Ashford now?”

  “You’re still living quite happily with your sister then?” His tone was cutting.

  “Happily?” Anna held his gaze, but the ice there made her look away. She stared out of the window, watching the slow-moving, rush-hour traffic. She rubbed at her eyelids. Sofia would be home. “Not yet.”

  “Why?”

  The question surprised Anna. She turned to him…

  “What have you promised to deliver?” he asked.

  …and found the usual suspicion. It made her tongue sharp. Any truth was wasted on him. “Your fortune, obviously.” His eyes sparked and her heart beat faster. Anna was more than happy to fling his own words back at him. “But you’d like to think that of me, wouldn’t you?”

  “So why haven’t you moved out?”

  There was the simple reason. “Money,” she said, and turned her attention back to the window. Then there was the complicated reason. The one that came with an old pain. Anna had been under her sister’s thumb—under her control—for almost as long as she could remember. It was hard to break away.

  Zach laughed. “Money? You?”

  “Yes, me,” she muttered. “Glad to see this amuses you.”

  “How could it not?”

  Anna let out a slow breath. “Look, I think it would be best if you stayed in the car.”

  “No.”

  “Zach…”

  “I learned my lesson this afternoon.” His voice was cold, hard. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

  “Sofia—”

  “All the more reason.” His eyebrow lifted. “Time to conspire?”

  “Fine.”

  Nerves had her chest tight. Her sister and Zach in the same house. And she thought her day had been horrible enough.

  The car crawled through the late afternoon traffic, until finally, Anna started to recognise familiar landmarks.

  “Stop here.”

  The chauffeur’s eyes found Zach’s and caught that man’s brief nod.

  She didn’t wait for the chauffeur, scrambling out of her seat. Standing, she tugged at her skirt. A high brick wall faced her. Behind it was Ashford’s south garden. Anna knew that Sofia liked to relax with some of her cronies in the den around that time. A swift run over manicured lawns would have Anna in the kitchen with no one the wiser.

  Zach.

  She could feel him behind her.

  Her skin prickled.

  “What are you doing, Anna?”

  She made herself look at him. “Neither of us wants to see Sofia. We go in this way? We don’t.”

  Zach waved his arm, a smile lurking. “Lead on.”

  Biting back more words, Anna turned. She searched in her jacket pocket for her keys, found them, and turned one into the solid, wooden door.

  Hinges creaked. Wood groaned.

  Anna winced and put her weight behind the door.

  She stumbled forward, cursing the stupid boots. Her heels buried deep into soft, dark earth. A smile twisted her mouth. She hoped Sofia had paid a fortune for them because they were ruined.

  Anna closed her eyes. Thinking like her sister. A habit she had to fight.

  The garden door clanked shut.

  Time to move.

  She yanked her boots free of the damp earth and stared over the beauty of the manicured lawn, sunlight picking out the vivid greens, stretching out to lush, flower-thick borders. Gregory’s other love, besides her sister, had been his gardens. And she wouldn’t spike it. Leaning against the door, she tugged her boots down, finally pulling them over her tortured toes.

  Anna couldn’t help the sigh of relief.

  She found Zach staring at her. “Gregory loved this stretch of grass.”

  He blinked.

  Anna waved her muddied boots at him. “These would destroy it.” He was still staring. “Come on,” she muttered. “If we’re lucky, Sofia’s in the cinema room. That looks out onto the west garden.”

  The grass was cool under foot, a balm to aching soles. She started to run. A smile broke out across her mouth. The rush in her blood, the joy of it. It had been years since she’d run barefoot…and then memories surfaced. Her brief childhood with her parents, exploring Middleton’s acres like a semi-wild thing—

  “Anna!”

  She raced for the open doors that led into the kitchen. Let the oh-so-correct and starch-stiff Zachary Quinn blow some fresh air through his lungs. The thought had her grinning. She grabbed at the white-painted doorjamb, swinging to a stop, and laughed.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  His sharp eyes sparked with anger. Zach wasn’t even out of breath.

  “Running, Zach.” She straightened and felt the joy of it fizz away. Sofia was probably somewhere in
the house. She turned to the shadowed interior, the immaculate kitchen stretching out into the breakfast room. “I used to do it a lot.”

  His finger curled a lock of hair around her ear.

  Anna’s skin prickled at the delicate brush of his fingertips over sensitive skin. “Don’t, Zach,” she murmured, turning her head away. His games hurt and the old, familiar pain pulled tight in her chest.

  “Playing hard to get, now? Is this yet another new persona?”

  She made herself straighten. He knew the truth now. Something about that made her feel…free. A smile curved her mouth. “What you choose to believe about me is your business.”

  With that, she turned into the kitchen.

  “What I choose—”

  Zach gripped her upper arm, pulled her towards him. Pressed against him, the solid touch of his body burned against hers. Anna stared up at him, her mouth dried. Lips parted—

  “Do you realise how much those boots cost?”

  Sofia’s shrill cry cut through Anna. Damn. Luck never ran with her. Never.

  She should be thankful.

  Zach stood back. His fingers dropped away.

  Sofia snatched at the boots, turning them, painted nails twitching over the clods of black earth still stuck to the expensive leather. She muttered curses under her breath. Hard green eyes fixed on Anna. “This is the thanks I get. You could hardly—”

  She saw Zach.

  Her sister’s face changed. Harsh lines dropped and there was a glitter to Sofia’s eyes that worked a tense ache across Anna’s shoulder. There it was again. The face that charmed men. Flawless, with a perfection that had passed over Anna.

  “Zachary.”

  Yes. The hard bite to her voice was gone. Sofia was as much a game player as Zach.

  “Sofia.”

  And Zach. Clipped. Cool. The hairs on the back of Anna’s neck twitched. The disastrous evening had started early, flowing neatly from the nightmare of the afternoon.

  “So you agreed to the plan.” Sofia’s soft smile curved her mouth and a thin eyebrow lifted.

  “As did you.” A short pause. “Why?”

  Sofia waved a dismissive hand at her sister. “Run along. I need to speak privately. I’m sure there’s something you have to do for tonight.”

  Heat burst over Anna’s face. She was being sent away like a child. The thought that she had only until the end of the week put steel in her spine. She was no longer the devastated nine-year-old left with Sofia. “No.”

  “Anna.” Sofia’s smile hardened. “This is private.”

  There was a fist in Anna’s stomach. She felt sick. But she made herself hold her sister’s gaze. What could she do to her now? Anna felt every tight breath. “You agreed to this. Zach and I are stuck with each other for the week.”

  Sofia turned and dropped the soiled boots into a bin. The lid clanged shut. “And whose idea do you think that was?”

  Anna blinked.

  Zach’s low laugh made her jump. “Really, Sofia?”

  “Of course.” Her attention slid from Zach to Anna and back again. “Gregory didn’t believe that she wanted that stupid cottage enough…and I said this would be the perfect way.” Her richly red mouth twitched. “I knew how much you…don’t get on.”

  “That is a lie.” The fist crushed Anna’s insides. Gregory wouldn’t have said that. He didn’t play those sort of games.

  “That you don’t get on?” Sofia pulled open the large stainless steel fridge and stared over the contents. “I thought it was apparent to everyone.”

  “Look at me.” Anna bit out the words. This was what Sofia did. This was always what she did. “Gregory did not—”

  “Anna, believe in your fairy tales. I told you to leave. You wouldn’t.” Sofia sighed and turned her head. “Go.” Her hand flicked. “Slip into one of your comfortable sacks.” Her bright green gaze slid over what she wore. “That didn’t work. You just can’t carry fashion.”

  Anna’s face burned. “Your idea of fashion.”

  “Anyone’s idea of fashion.”

  “Are you two finished?” Zach straightened and ran an absent hand over the front of his jacket. “And while I’m thoroughly enjoying this little show…” He turned to Anna. “You have to pack.”

  Her stomach twisted. A dreadful evening stretched ahead of her…and at its end, she wouldn’t be able to escape to the peace, the silence of her little room. No. She had to go with him, with Zach. Go to that apartment.

  Sofia smirked. “Be gentle with her, Zach.”

  Anna felt the heat scorch to the roots of her hair. She hadn’t seen them in the kitchen just now. And Sofia had never known. She hadn’t.

  “Enough.”

  His familiar low growl raised the hairs on Anna’s skin. “We’re following the rules, Sofia.” Her sister’s bright red lips pursed under Zach’s narrowed gaze. “I suggest you do the same.”

  “Meaning?”

  “No one must know about this…arrangement.”

  Sofia’s mouth twisted into a sarcastic smile. “Oh, you’ll earn your inheritance.” Her attention returned to the contents of the fridge. She pulled out a chilled bottle of vodka. “If you last.”

  Zach’s fingers closed around Anna’s elbow and the jolt of his touch shot through her. Damn it, he was the last man she wanted anywhere near her. Anna wanted to scrub at her face. Of course, he had been the last man.

  She shrugged herself free.

  But found him following her.

  “You can wait here.” Her fingers clutched tight to the banister. “I’m sure in the same house qualifies.”

  “You or the company of your charming sister?”

  Anna couldn’t miss the thick layer of sarcasm.

  “Difficult.” He stared up the curving flight of the back stairs. Anna clung to the warm banister, fighting the need to run her fingertips along that hard-angled jaw. “And I’m enjoying your charade.” Steel blue eyes impacted hers. “The woman oppressed by her wicked older sister. Very…endearing.”

  “Yes, Zach, everything is a play for your benefit,” Anna said, forcing her feet to climb the steep stairs.

  What had she expected? That he would see the truth in the situation and side with her? That was stupid. She had lied to him for six long years, built a thick fog of deceit around her life.

  “So you live in the attic apartment?”

  Anna closed her eyes against the amusement in his voice. “Part of it.”

  “Even better.” A soft chuckle sent heat flaring over her skin. “You’re really going full tilt for the Cinderella angle. I’m impressed.”

  She stopped. Anger scalded the pit of her stomach. A smile cut her mouth. “Does this make you the other ugly sister?”

  “Anna…” He shook his head, but his eyes sparked with sly humour. “I’m hurt. Surely, I’m Prince Charming.”

  “Hardly.”

  She turned on the second landing and began to climb the narrow stairs that led to her rooms. If nothing else, trawling up and down the stairs for all the years she had lived at Ashford had kept her fit.

  “If I was at all dishonourable, I’d have to make a comment about your legs.”

  Anna ignored it. But she cursed the flush that rose through her face. She should be too old to blush. She really should…but she could almost feel his gaze raking over her skin. She took a steadying breath. Focus on something else. Yes. She had to get something out in the open. Her heart pounded. Maybe he wouldn’t remember…

  “The artist tonight is an old friend. Sofia wants to be a patron of the arts this month. So I thought someone who deserves it should benefit.”

  “You’re the fairy godmother now?”

  “Find this funny, Zach.” She stopped on the small, low-ceilinged landing and fished in her bag for her keys. “But don’t ruin tonight for Freddie.”

  “Lewis?”

  Zach hung over her, too close in the confined space. His familiar scent wrapped around her and every measured breath touched her. Her
skin prickled.

  Anna closed her eyes. That tone. And she hadn’t thought about it. Not really. Just believed that Zach wouldn’t remember. She was stupid. It was denial. Zach forgot nothing. Forgave nothing. She knew that all too well.

  “Yes. Freddie Lewis.” She pushed at the door.

  “You’re still in contact with him?”

  Anna put her keys in a bowl on the side table. The cold glass was a relief against her tight fist. She hadn’t found the courage to look at him. This was a part of the truth she couldn’t tell him. If Zach learned the lies ran deeper still… No. Not going there.

  She turned and the protective mask slid over her face. Anna gave him a short smile. “He’s a friend from school.” Her gaze dropped to focus on his tie. All of this was her fault…and Freddie had suffered. The stress she had put him under had sent his life into a fast downward spin. It was years, but the guilt still gnawed. “And he’s had a hard time recently.”

  Zach pushed back the curtain to the narrow window before he looked at her. He was too tall in the low-ceiled room. Anna blinked. Zach in her room. Her skin started to itch.

  “So I understand.”

  Anna wanted to thump him. Her hands curled into fists, nails digging into her palms. The sharp pain brought focus. He did this. Goaded her. “You don’t have to sound so pleased about it.”

  “Nobody betrays me, Anna.” The bedroom was suddenly too small, the walls pressing in on her senses. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears. “And you did.”

  “It’s what you wanted.”

  “What I wanted? Really.” He was so close she fought the urge to back away from him. In the small room, there was nowhere to go. “For a woman to throw me over for a scruffy boy?”

  His pride was monumental. “Yes.”

  “Did he compare?”

  “How dare—”

  “Oh please, Anna, enough with the outraged virgin.”

  Incensed, she became reckless. “Of all men, you should know that I’m not.”

  A muscle jumped in his jaw. “No.”

  “Still that denial.”

  Anna turned to her wardrobe. Better to concentrate on clothes than rake up their disastrous past.

  “You weren’t a virgin, Anna.”