She had to get real. To look at the possibilities which lay open to her and then decide what to do. She thought about spending the night here, all wrapped up in his warm body, and temptation whispered over her skin. And then she imagined Zak waking up and thought about what they’d actually say to each other.
The most likely outcome was that he would open his eyes and regret everything that had happened last night. And wouldn’t walking out of his suite wearing a crumpled evening dress in the harsh light of morning only add to her own feelings of remorse? Why, she didn’t even have a toothbrush, let alone a hairbrush! Imagine if she bumped into that nice woman who made her bed each morning—or ran into Cindy. Emma flinched. If it was to be a one-off, then surely at least she could emerge with her pride intact. There’d be no need for any awkward farewells if she absented herself first.
Silently, she pushed aside the duvet and held her breath as she slipped from the bed. But, mercifully, Zak didn’t stir and Emma quietly scooped up her underwear, shoes and dress and carried them into the sitting room. Her fingers were trembling as she dressed, terrified that he would wake up. And she couldn’t bear the thought of facing him—afraid that he would look into her eyes and be able to read her thoughts. To realise that the whole experience had left her with more than the discovery that she was as normal as any other woman. And just as vulnerable. She felt bruised and raw—as if the protective skin she had grown around her heart had been stripped away. Nagging away at her was the growing fear that she could really start to care for Zak Constantinides.
Just before she opened the door, she caught sight of herself in the vast mirror which hung over the marble fireplace, freezing with horror as she saw the image reflected back at her. Her blond hair looked like the ‘before’ photo in a shampoo ad and her dress was so crumpled it could have been mistaken for a high-class duster. But it was her face which shocked her the most—all dark, smudged eyes and kiss-bruised lips.
She looked wanton. As if she’d been designed with no other purpose in life than to provide a man with pleasure. Unable to hold back her revulsion, Emma shuddered.
Because that was how her mother had liked to look—the way she’d lured in all those sleazy men. Hadn’t Emma seen her looking like that when she’d been getting her own breakfast cereal before school? And hadn’t she vowed that she would never, ever get like that herself?
Her fingers were trembling as she picked up her discarded clutch bag and quietly let herself out of Zak’s suite.
CHAPTER TEN
‘IF I didn’t know better, I’d ask whether you always crept out of a man’s bed without even bothering to say goodbye.’
A feeling of foreboding whispered over her as Emma looked up into the glitter of Zak’s eyes. Was that anger she could read in them—or merely frustration that she’d been the one to make the decision by leaving his bed last night? That, for once, he had not been the one calling the shots.
Inside her thin gloves, her fingers were cold, and maybe the weather was too inclement to keep sitting outside and working on the terrace like this, but she’d felt closed in and restless after her night of passion with her Greek boss. She’d felt the need to escape—knowing that there was no real escape and that eventually he would come and find her.
‘I didn’t want to wake you,’ she said weakly.
‘Why not?’
‘Because …’ She hesitated for a moment before the words came spilling out—because what was the point of playing games? Hadn’t she pretty much bared her soul after he’d made love to her last night? Didn’t Zak Constantinides know more about her than any other person—her ex-husband and mother included? ‘Because I thought that you might wake up this morning, regretting what had happened.’
For a moment there was silence and, like someone who couldn’t resist scratching at a scab, Emma couldn’t stop herself from probing further. ‘Did you?’
Zak studied her pale face and furrowed brow. Her hair was piled up haphazardly on her head and, in her jeans and warm jacket, she couldn’t have looked more different from the white silken goddess who’d danced in his arms last night. And maybe that had been her intention. He considered her question and the very fact she’d asked it spoke volumes about her lack of experience. A sophisticated woman wouldn’t have dreamed of being so upfront, so early in an affair—of laying herself open to the possibility of rejection. But one thing he didn’t do was dishonesty. He’d never given a woman hope where hope there was none.
He thought about the paparazzi who had captured their angry exit from the party and his mouth hardened. By now, every newsdesk in the western world would have it on their files. Its placement would depend on whether or not it was a light day for news—but inevitably it would be accompanied by the speculative splash about the ‘mystery blonde’ in his life. ‘It probably wasn’t the best idea in the world,’ he said heavily.
Emma felt the sudden sinking of her heart. ‘You didn’t enjoy it?’
His mouth hardened. If it had been any other woman than Emma asking him that particular question he would have told them not to be so damned disingenuous. But the anxiety in her eyes looked genuine and, given her particular history, wasn’t it essential that he reassured her without filling her with false hope? ‘I enjoyed it very much,’ he said carefully. ‘As, I think, you did?’
As if he needed to ask that! She wondered what it must be like to be Zak. To know that you were the most amazing lover and never have to suffer from any doubts or worry on that score. Did every woman he slept with feel the way he’d made her feel last night—as if she’d flown up to the sky and scooped up an armful of stars?
‘Yes,’ she whispered.
‘Let’s just hope that Nat doesn’t see any paparazzi photos of us together.’
Her mouth flew open. ‘But I told you—there was never anything between me and Nat.’
For a moment he said nothing. Didn’t she understand the basic
rivalry between brothers; between men themselves? No, of course she didn’t—it was easy to forget how limited her experience was. ‘I just think it’s better if you say nothing—unless the subject arises.’
She tried not to flinch but it wasn’t easy. Not when he was making her feel like a clump of dust which needed to be kicked underneath the carpet, out of sight.
‘I wouldn’t dream of saying anything. Don’t worry, Zak—I won’t breathe a word to a living soul. And I can leave right now if it’s easier,’ she added quietly. ‘It’ll be simple enough for me to leave instructions for Cindy—she’s a bright girl and she knows what to do. Most of the stuff has been ordered—it’s just a question of installing it within the next few days. The whole project can be wrapped up within the week and you won’t actually need me for the opening.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Usually when I go to bed with a woman, it doesn’t result in her wanting to put as much distance between us as possible,’ he offered drily.
There was a pause. ‘I didn’t say I wanted to.’ She stared down at her gloved hands as she drew in a deep breath, terrified he would see the vulnerability and the sheer wanting written all over her face. And wasn’t it something of a shock to discover that deep down she was needier than she’d thought? Needier than she wanted to be. She found herself wanting to fling her arms around Zak’s neck and cling to him—to pull his mouth to hers and have him kiss her again. And wouldn’t that be a complete turn-off for a man like him? ‘I just think it’s probably for the best if I did go.’
Zak looked at the pale gleam of her blond head, thinking that maybe she was cleverer than he’d given her credit for. Maybe she was doing this untouchable thing this morning, knowing how tantalising he would find it. Because there was nothing that appealed to him more than something he thought he couldn’t have. Was she clever enough to instinctively understand that?