Past Lies Page 8

  Zach obviously had different ideas.

  She stared, unseeing, at the neatly arranged rack of clothes. Her chest felt tight and more tears burned her eyes. She shouldn’t have had wine at the lunch. Her and alcohol really didn’t mix in the afternoon. But it wasn’t just the drink. His words hurt. That he could dismiss her so easily. “Fine,” she muttered. “Then I won’t admit I’d never even kissed a man before that Christmas party.”

  His bark of harsh laughter made her jump. “That’s stretching the truth, even for you.”

  Anna gripped tight to the image of the tumble-down house set in overgrown acres. It would be hers. Last the week, and it would be hers. She would be going home. “I thought you’d enjoy the idea.” She looked back over her shoulder, found him in the doorway to her tiny kitchen. His eyes sparked fire. Stupid to antagonise this man. But something in her… Anna couldn’t help herself. “Someone…untouched. Your wife told me—”

  “Ex-wife.” The word was a growl. “And she is not open to discussion.”

  Anna fixed her attention back on her clothes. Something looked different. “Didn’t seem to bother her.” Her voice was almost to herself. “Seemed more than happy to talk about you and your—”

  “What?”

  The edge of fury to his voice shot through her. Needling him. They had known each other too long, knew which buttons set off sparks. Anna’s heart beat faster. Her lips dried. “Your…need to be the first.”

  “Is that what she said?”

  “I thought we weren’t discussing her?”

  Anna’s head felt light. He was closer, she knew, could feel him. She was playing with fire. Just the two of them in her bedroom. And there would be no one to interrupt. Sofia would still be drinking with her cronies. There would be no one to stop Anna giving into what her body craved—

  Stupid thoughts. No.

  Pick out a dress. Get ready. Get out.

  “Your Cinderella image is slipping.” His soft measured voice, always with the hint of dislike, was close, just behind her, but she would have to turn her head. No. Not doing that. Her dresses. Concentrate on them. Anna blinked. What…? These weren’t her clothes.

  She pulled off one hangar, then another.

  Exclusive designer labels screamed expense. “Sofia.”

  “Oh I see, just more of the pantomime.”

  Anna ignored the hard sarcasm in his voice. She found more hangars, throwing them on to her nearby bed. Nothing of hers was left. Nothing. Just expensive…fripperies…following Sofia’s dubious taste. Damn. Every single thing was clingy. Some moved into slut territory. Anna couldn’t stop the blush that burned over her skin. She remembered Sofia wearing something exactly like it. The paparazzi had almost blinded them with flashes.

  Zach picked up the gauzy, practically transparent dress. “So this is yours,” he murmured. He glanced back at her. His expression was hard. Irritated. “Sofia borrowed it.”

  Yes. Everybody remembered that dress.

  And he happily believed the worst of her. However, that was her own fault. It was something she’d fostered. But what was it to do with him anyway? The side of her Zach drew out spoke, “What d’you think?” She tugged the dress free from his tight grip, stared down at the transparent fabric against her clothes, moulding it to her frame. “Yes.”

  “No.”

  Anna bit down on her smile. Irritating him was…exciting. It had been so long since she’d been in his company. It was a forgotten emotion. “But it covers everything.”

  “No.”

  “The right accessories.”

  “No one is seeing you naked this week, Anna.” He paused. “Except me.”

  Her head shot up, her face on fire, and found a cruel, mocking gleam to his eyes. She should call him a few very choice names…but her body thrummed at the thought, at the memory of his touch.

  “No,” she said.

  “It’s inevitable.”

  Anna’s head jerked another no. Anger burned away the shock to her senses. “You are the most conceited… You seriously think, that after all that’s happened I would…would jump into bed with you?”

  That drew an infuriating curl to his mouth. “A bed. We never got to the bed, did we?”

  Anna crushed her eyes against memories that had haunted her for years. The bitter fight searing into something neither of them had expected. No. That was another lie. “I have to get ready.”

  “Then you’re wearing this.”

  Zach held something that was no more than a puddle of white silk in his hands.

  “I don’t need you to dress me, Zach.”

  An eyebrow lifted. The heat in his eyes made it difficult to breathe. “Someone needs to take you in hand.”

  Anna glanced back to the pile of clothes on the bed. All of them were awful. And this was Zach. Appearances were everything to him. She snatched the dress and marched into the bathroom. Shooting back the bolt, she spied the old key still in the lock. She twisted that too.

  Anna stared at the dress, then draped it over her towel rail and buried her face in her hands. This was a nightmare. Her temples started to throb.

  What the hell was she doing?

  ˜™

  Zach winced.

  He hadn’t missed the bolt and the lock.

  A hand ran over his face, fingers scratching through his hair. “Coffee.” He stared blankly at the cupboards. “I need coffee.”

  The kitchen was tiny and there was barely room to turn around. “This is beyond a joke.” Water splashed into the kettle and he flicked the switch. “Everything for show.”

  He let out a slow breath.

  Damn it. He shouldn’t have brought up the past.

  But the fact that she was still friends with Freddie Lewis swelled the old anger in his gut. “None of my business.” Zach scrubbed at his face again. “Absolutely none of my business.”

  He rummaged through the cupboards and found instant. It would have to do. He needed something to smash through the stupid half-haze of alcohol. It had to be the drink dredging up images he had buried, memories of how she tasted, the incredible softness of her skin. And to keep pushing her when he could not have her—

  His mug clattered onto the wooden countertop.

  No.

  This was a plan concocted by Anna and Sofia. They wanted the company his father and Gregory Brabant had built from the ground up. He would not allow two money-hungry harpies to destroy that effort, that legacy.

  The coffee scalded his mouth and Zach grimaced.

  “I hope you’re laughing, Gregory. Because I am not amused.” He glanced up at the kitchen clock. 6:20. He closed his eyes. The night stretched out before him. People milling about, balancing their wine and nibbles, the air thick with their endless, inane chatter.

  More coffee burned its way down his throat.

  And the knowledge that Anna would be there, taunting him, teasing him with no effort at all. A ball of anger tightened in his gut. Freddie Lewis. The man she had…hunted…after him. Anna had an itch she needed to scratch. He didn’t want to believe the rumours…but he had firsthand evidence from that afternoon. Any man would do.

  He drained the mug.

  No. His ex-wife and Anna had taught him a lesson. He winced. A bitter one. It was why he set limits in his relationships. And he made very sure that a woman understood. He did not get involved. He never—

  Zach stared.

  Anna.

  He hadn’t even heard the shower. While he’d been burning his mouth on coffee, she’d been naked.

  He crushed the images that scorched his mind. Crushed them. Hard.

  Damp hair curled around her cheek, clung to her neck. Her skin glowed. The room filled with the soft scent of herbal soap and clean skin. A long, brown bathrobe reached past her knees. The thick material frayed at the edges and it hardly flattered her…but beneath he knew she was naked.

  Zach’s fingers tightened around the empty mug, still hot in his hand.

  “What?” Angry br
own eyes drilled him.

  “It suits you.” And that was the first idiotic thing that popped into his head. Her face, still warm and glistening from the shower, free of makeup… Reality slammed into his gut. He’d forgotten, been denying it. Anna was breathtaking.

  “Though whether you should wear a dressing gown…”

  He watched perfect lips purse.

  “Funny.” She rummaged through a drawer. A frown creased her forehead and her cheeks glowed. She finally stuffed something scrunched into her pocket. “I won’t be long.” She waved at his mug. “And you’re obviously making yourself at home.”

  The gauche act wouldn’t fool him. Not this time.

  So he found her attractive. So what? He was a very rich man. Beautiful women swarmed around him. He wasn’t Gregory, losing every sense over a woman nearly half his age. His jaw tightened. And he wasn’t his father. Trapped by a scheming woman intent on enjoying his wealth.

  Zach followed the slow slide of a droplet of water that slipped over her jaw, throat, clavicle and disappeared into the shadow of her skin.

  Yes. His pride be damned.

  He would enjoy Anna.

  He held her gaze, saw the brief, fake flash of uncertainty, then the shine of something else.

  Zach smiled. “Get dressed, Anna.”

  She blinked and then shot back into the bathroom.

  Enjoy her and discard her.

  As she had done to him.

  But trust her? Never.

  Chapter Six

  “Stop looking at me like that.”

  The man had the infuriating cheek to look innocent. “Like what?”

  “You’re old enough. I shouldn’t have to explain.”

  A smile twitched over his mouth and Anna knotted her hands. The desperate need to slap him had come back. The curve of those lips was an irritant that she couldn’t ignore. Yes, either slap him…or kiss him. Shocked at that thought, Anna focused on the short run of stone steps which led into the gallery.

  There was something different about Zach. It was annoying her that she couldn’t work out what it was.

  Glass doors slid open.

  No. Not thinking about Zach.

  Tonight was about Freddie.

  Her clicking heels echoed through the white, vaulted entrance. A teak reception desk curved into one corner. Through another set of glass doors she could see the main gallery space. It looked empty. Where was—

  “Anna! Thank God someone’s here.” Freddie wrapped her in a bear hug.

  “Freddie.” Her laughter was strained. Zach’s gaze burned through her, his jaw tight. He stood back, silent. Disapproving.

  Anna pulled free, stepping back from her friend, but still holding his hands. His grip was fierce. Her heart twisted. This had all been her fault. She met Freddie’s familiar sharply handsome face and fixed a warm, reassuring smile to her mouth. “It will be fine. More than fine. You’ll sell everything.”

  He stared about the empty space. “Who to?”

  The doors whooshed open. “To them maybe.” A group of four people, laughing and chatting, burst into the silent space. “Go.” Anna gave his arm an affectionate shove. “Be charming. And sell them something.”

  “Anna. I love you.” With that he was gone.

  She couldn’t look at Zach. Anger rippled off him. Anna focused on her heels clicking over the slate floor and keeping her steps even.

  Her chest cramped, but she had to ignore it.

  Zach only added to the stress of the evening. It didn’t help that she could feel the light brush of his fingers at the base of her spine. She had to focus on something else. Freddie’s words. A stupid thing for him to say…but that was who he was. She wouldn’t deny him the excitement of the night. His life had been hard enough.

  Anna put that from her mind and stared at the vivid rushes of blue on the huge canvas hanging before her. She knew nothing about art. She was trying to concentrate on the great sweep—

  Zach’s fingers, that soft, yet persistent pressure at the base of her spine, caressing the flow of silk against the bare skin beneath. A shiver ran through her body. Why was he still touching her? Being with her was the last thing he wanted. He had made that very clear.

  “What are you doing, Zach?” Anna closed her eyes and fought the blush. Did her voice have to sound so…so…breathless?

  His head dipped, so close she could feel the heat of his skin. His scent wove around her and she hated the way her stomach did that stupid little flip-flop of excitement.

  “This is public.” The brush of his warm breath over her ear forced Anna to hold back a second shiver. “Gregory wanted us to look public.”

  Her hands clenched into fists. “It isn’t an ‘us’,” Anna muttered. “We’re just to be seen together. Not seen together.”

  She felt his grin, the change in his breath over her skin. “And men would think me insane if I wasn’t seen touching you.”

  Anna couldn’t help it, her gaze snapped up to his. Sharp. Gleaming. She had to remember. Breathe in. Breathe out. “You…you chose this dress.”

  “I’m sure you meant me to.”

  His gaze scorched a path down her face. Delayed on her mouth in a way that made fire burn through her veins, but moved on, skimming the straight run of creamy white silk that clung to her skin and ended just above her knee. Anna knew she should be indignant. He wasn’t surveying a piece of prized horseflesh—

  That sharp gaze held her again. There was something hard in it. “It should’ve been conservative. But your nature shines through.”

  There was the familiar stone in her chest. “My nature?”

  His finger traced a path down her bare arm and Anna couldn’t stop the prickling of her skin. “Freddie still loves you, does he?”

  Anna stepped back, moving beyond his touch. Cold washed through her after the heat of his fingertips. “It’s an expression, Zach. He says it to everyone.”

  “Do you?”

  “What? Say it to everyone?” There was the lie she could tell him. That of course she told each man she met of her undying love. Zach would see her as the trivial airhead who had kept him away from her. But she had made a promise to herself. A new life. One without lies. She just had to ignore the tension tightening her neck. “No. I don’t.” But she wouldn’t add that she’d never said it to anyone. That truth, like so many others, was too raw to speak.

  “No. Do you love him?”

  Anna blinked. Damn. She couldn’t admit that Freddie had been in on her little charade so many years ago. That he had helped her. She couldn’t let him think any worse of Freddie. She didn’t want to imagine the damage Zach could do to him.

  “As a friend.”

  Zach’s lip curled. “Turn out he wasn’t rich enough for you?”

  Her insides twisted. Zach and his money. “So you think he’s a poor prospect for me?”

  “He should be grateful he is.” Zach’s gaze drilled her. Darkened, cut with silver.

  Anger roiled though her gut and she had the desperate need to wipe that smug smile from his mouth. Nails dug into her palms. But the pain didn’t distract her. It couldn’t. “He’s more of a man than you—”

  His sudden flash of fury killed her words.

  Stupid thing to for her to say. She should know better than to antagonise him. But she really couldn’t help herself.

  “Is that what you think?” His voice, cool, dangerous. Anna wasn’t calling the sudden heat through her body panic. She wasn’t. Her attention shot to the door. Freddie was still chatting, arms waving, charming new patrons. It was a public place. Zach wouldn’t risk his reputation here, now. “Have you no memory, Anna? Can’t you remember when you last wore a dress like this?”

  The honeyed caress of his words stole over her skin. She fought to breathe, not to sink into the soft warmth of them. Zach was playing his games. Always. She forced a glare. “I try not to think about it.” Good. Strong, clear voice. Steady.

  “Try?”

  She followe
d his movements, willing the panic to calm. They were in a public place. The Christmas party had been too. No, this was more public.

  Where was he going?

  Anna hissed out a breath. His warm fingers, then palms, slipped over her shoulders, cupped them. The solid build of his body shielded her. And his lips, brushing the shell of her ear.

  “How hard do you have to try to keep me out of your mind, Anna?”

  She swallowed back in a parched mouth. Her nervous tongue touched her lips. She felt his satisfied smile. Damn him. “It’s no effort at all, Zach.”

  “Really?”

  She closed her eyes against the lick of that word, the promise it held. “Really.”

  “Then this should be just as easy to forget.”

  His warm mouth slid over her neck…and then the nip of his teeth teased her earlobe. Anna gasped, tried to pull away, but his hands shaped down her body, pressing her against him. Butterfly kisses stole over her neck, quick, pulsing. Fire pooled swift, low in her belly and she couldn’t help herself. Her neck curved, offering him more skin to touch, to taste.

  The slow run of his hands over silk thrummed Anna’s skin, every inch of her aware, aware of him.

  This is what he did to her, made her wanton, desperate for him.

  She didn’t care. Didn’t care that they were in the middle of a gallery, that anyone could see them. She couldn’t stop.

  His long, clever finger found her through the silk and a soft, breathy moan escaped her.

  “Zach. We shouldn’t.”

  “Old times, Anna.” His mouth lingered on her shoulder. “This dress, the dark, and us.”

  Another finger joined the first, circling, the silk slipping over her skin in smooth, slow ripples. It pulsed a hot ache through her. Her head fell back against the strength of his shoulder and her throat dried.

  “Remember me now, Anna?”

  She swallowed. “Yes. But we really should…”

  His other hand pushed down over her hip and more fingers rubbed and touched and… Little flashes of light burst behind her eyelids.

  “Should what, Anna?” His roughened breath brushed her ear and the heat in her body soared, flared. “Should I stop? I think I—”

  “No!” Her hands gripped his. He couldn’t stop. Not now.