But before she could speak he lifted up onto his elbow and leaned over to kiss her. Heaven help her, she couldn’t deny herself—or him—that kiss.
But that kiss led to another. Then another. And then he covered her. Wordless, worshipping, it was the gentlest of possessions. His arms were strong but tender bars as he held her. Oh, she couldn’t resist this last moment of absolute joy. She wanted to give him everything.
It wasn’t a frantic, passionate coupling but this was no less demanding. If anything, it was more so. She was wound unbearably tight, her body aching for more. Each slow, deep thrust was the most exquisite torment.
He looked into her eyes as he pressed closer, still too deliciously slow. She couldn’t cope with the intensity. Her body taut as a bowstring, she strained to kiss him, to show him how sorry she was, how much she cared, how much she wanted. His pace finally quickened. His teeth nipped her lips as she neared the peak, sending her higher in a sudden rush. Her orgasm collided with his into that timeless moment of shared ecstasy. She clutched him closer still, yearning that it would last for ever. But it was a moment that, like all, slipped from her grasp.
And so did he.
She barely heard the words he whispered as she sank into the dark depths of exhaustion.
‘I like waking up to you.’
* * *
When she woke the second time the sun was much higher in the sky. She sat bolt upright in the bed. She was alone and heartsick. But she heard noises from along the corridor. Voices.
She leapt from the bed. Cold sweat slicked her body and her pulse scurried. Quickly she tugged on jeans and a T-shirt as she remembered that sweetly whispered confession from such a carefully guarded soul.
‘I like waking up to you.’
It was the nearest to a declaration of affection he’d probably ever give. And she’d made such a mistake by being such a coward.
So much for thinking that she’d developed as a person. For so long she’d been silent—willing to put up with misery because she was too scared to take any kind of risk. And she’d thought she’d moved on from that. She’d studied. She’d taken a small bedsit on her own. She was developing her business and had had some success with it already...but at her first real chance to prove her strength, she’d failed.
She’d taken the easy way out. By doing nothing. Saying nothing. Being silent and passive and pretending she was doing the right thing.
But it was her responsibility to be honest with Tomas. She was the one who’d entered into that marriage with him. She was the one who had benefited. But she’d hidden behind Jasper, not wanting to face up to the consequences herself.
Not face up to the truth.
If Tomas hadn’t had the accident, the truth was she’d most likely never have seen him again in her whole life. Their marriage had been little more than a joke to him. A cavalier moment of chivalry that he’d probably not thought twice about since. It had been a way of giving her money and setting her free.
In anyone else it would have been an extreme action, but for Tomas Gallo—it had been a piece of calculated retaliation and risk with the reward for her. A transaction her uncle couldn’t argue with and that soothed her pride at the same time.
She thought she understood a little more now why he’d done it. And that flash of maverick outrageousness was some of what she loved about him. Beneath the ruthless businessman, there was scarring and old, old wounds. But he’d not become embittered, there was kindness and generosity in him. He was a man who played the game his way.
Only his way.
But he would not be pleased to know she’d kept this from him. He might not be forgiving. His pride was part of his desire for isolation—he did not like to be made a fool of. But more importantly, more deep, was the distrust he had of people. Of relationships. Of ‘family’. She was his family now.
And she had let him down terribly.
But she had no time to waste because if that was Jasper, she had to get to Tomas before he said anything.
She swiftly ran to his office. She’d never felt as cold as she did in that moment. The two men were standing on the other side of Tomas’s large desk. Jasper looked as dapper as ever in his grey three-piece suit, but it was Tomas, clad completely in black again, with his shirt sleeves rolled to just below the elbows, who commanded all her attention.
He glanced up the second she’d made it to the doorway. The look in his eyes was enough to render her immobile. There were papers spread on the desk. Official-looking forms.
Her heart stopped.
‘Jasper,’ she said breathlessly, but she couldn’t tear her gaze from Tomas.
He knew.
‘Zara,’ Jasper said with too much joviality. ‘You’re looking well.’
She was looking as if she’d just gotten out of bed after a sleepless night of seduction. Which she had. But she was too afraid of Tomas’s reaction to this news to blush. Sickened, she still couldn’t move.
The awkward atmosphere grew.
‘He’s told you,’ she whispered, forcing herself to break the silence.
‘Told me what?’ Tomas prompted in staccato tones.
‘That...’
‘What has Jasper come all this way to tell me, Zara?’
‘Now, Tom—’
‘Zara can tell me.’ Tomas cut Jasper off without releasing her from his imprisoning gaze. ‘Can’t you, Zara?’
He was going to make her say it after all. And wasn’t that fair enough?
Tears sprang to her eyes and a hard lump of emotion clogged her throat. Such regret. But she swallowed it back. She refused to look away and fail. Not now. Even when it was too late.
She drew in a harsh breath, determined to get her voice stronger than a weak whisper. ‘That we’ve met before. That you once helped me.’
‘I helped you,’ he echoed, still in those staccato, undeniably angry tones. ‘How did I do that, exactly?’
‘You married me.’
She saw his eyes widen as she put the truth into words. He was furious; she could feel his anger coming at her in waves.
‘You—’
‘Tomas,’ Jasper interrupted sharply.
Tomas whirled to face him. ‘You. Leave. Now.’
‘Tomas—’
‘Go look at the goddamn garden.’ He silenced the older man.
Jasper hesitated and looked searchingly at Zara.
‘Don’t worry, I’m not about to go crazy and attack her. She’s in no danger from the damaged—’
‘Jasper, it’s okay,’ Zara interrupted Tomas. She needed to speak to him alone.
Jasper walked past her, his eyes sharpening on her as he neared. It was a silent query that she met with something as near to a smile as she could muster.
Then she stood silent, waiting for Tomas to vent.
He waited until Jasper was well out of earshot. But it wasn’t a shout, it was a very soft single question. He barely even moved his mouth, but she heard it as if he’d hollered it through a megaphone.
‘Why?’
‘Why what?’ she asked, bravely walking towards him. ‘Why did we marry? Why didn’t I tell you?’
‘Why are you here?’
She breathed out. That was the easiest of all the questions. ‘Jasper thought it might help. That seeing me might spur your memory.’
‘And sleeping with me would help too? Did you discuss that idea with him?’
‘Of course not. That just...’
‘Just what?’
‘Just happened.’
He looked sceptical. ‘Because you felt sorry for me? Did you sacrifice your virginity to say thank you?’
‘I—’ She broke off. It had been no sacrifice. Her anger began to build. ‘As I told you before, I slept with you because I wanted you. And because I care about you.’
He laughed. A bitter, disbelieving mockery of a laugh that scalded her like acid. She’d told him the truth and he’d laughed at her.
He sat down behind his desk. She stood
on the other side of it, feeling as if she’d been summoned to the boss’s office for a bawling out.
Which was pretty much the case.
‘Who are you really?’
‘I’m exactly who I said I was. Zara Falconer.’
His expression didn’t change.