‘You’re not going anywhere,’ he said softly, seeing the startled expression in her pale eyes as she looked up at him. ‘You’re going to work today as usual, and then, at eight o’clock tonight, I’m taking you out for dinner.’
‘Dinner?’
‘Is that such an extravagant suggestion in the circumstances?
You do need to eat dinner.’ His eyes gleamed. ‘Unless you have other plans.’
She pursed her lips against a smile which was threatening to split her face in two, because surely such overwhelming enthusiasm was completely uncool? ‘Oh, I think I can manage dinner.’
‘Good. I have meetings in another part of town, so I’ll send a car to pick you up and meet you at the restaurant. How does that sound?’
‘Sounds fine,’ she answered as he stood up, and she waited in vain for him to kiss her, or squeeze her arm—or something. Some affectionate touch to indicate that last night she’d been gasping out her orgasm in his arms and that afterwards she’d had to bite back her trembling tears of gratitude. But he gave her nothing but a quick smile before walking out of the ballroom.
She realised that she still didn’t know whether he regretted what had happened, but she also knew that analysis was dangerous—that it could drive you crazy if you let it. She put him out of her mind while she and Cindy deliberated over candles for the table settings and then spent almost an hour positioning a new painting on the wall until she was completely satisfied with it.
‘You’re such a perfectionist, Emma!’ teased Cindy.
Emma smiled back. ‘I call it attention to detail—the secret of success for an interior designer.’
But her nerves were back in force as she got ready for dinner—especially when she picked up the newspaper which had been shoved underneath the door of her hotel room. Flicking through it, she stilled when she reached the social pages and found a photo of her emerging from the party, with Zak.
It was a long time since she’d seen a photo of herself in a paper and she hated it as much now as she had done back then. The body language between them was telling. Zak looked dark-faced and furious while she hurried to keep up with him, looking like an anxious little mouse. She wondered if Nat would see the photo—and how he would interpret it.
Her mood now subdued, she chose a simple black dress worn with a long string of pearls. Pinning up her hair, she slipped on a warm jacket before going downstairs, where the doorman directed her to a waiting car.
A sense of unreality washed over her as she was driven across the city, and, when they drew up outside a nondescript building in the meat-packing area, she was sure the driver had the wrong address. Until Emma remembered that, in the world of the super-rich, less was definitely more. And that the pared-down and unexpected was currently considered far more chic than the overly ostentatious.
She gave Zak’s name but was informed that he hadn’t yet arrived and would she prefer to wait for him at the bar or go directly to their table?
She opted for the table. Her high-headed walk through the sumptuous room belied the nervous beating of her heart—her insecurities rising to taunt her. What was she doing here—agreeing to have dinner with a man who couldn’t even be bothered to turn up on time? She ordered water and tried to sip it without feeling self-conscious but she was aware that she was the only single woman in the room and that realisation frayed at her already frayed nerves.
After a seemingly endless wait, Zak arrived with the discreet flurry which greeted him everywhere. She watched his progress towards her in his dark suit and pristine shirt, her heart beating unwillingly fast in response to that first sight of him. In the soft light his olive skin gleamed like gold and her body shivered in recognition of the fact that last night he had been hers. He pulled out the chair opposite hers. ‘Sorry I’m late.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ she said. ‘I’ve had a fantastic time sitting here, judging all their design ideas and comparing them to mine!’
He studied her, his heart giving a sudden hard beat. ‘You look very beautiful tonight.’
‘Oh, this? It’s only—’
‘To which you reply, “Thank you, Zak!”’
‘Thank you, Zak,’ she echoed softly.
‘That’s better.’ He picked up a menu and handed it to her. ‘They have a wide vegetarian selection here.’
She looked at him in surprise. ‘You remembered.’
‘I have a very good memory for detail,’ he said, but his tone was thoughtful. She was surprised by small kindnesses, he acknowledged suddenly. She certainly wasn’t as tough as he had initially thought, and maybe that meant he should play carefully with her. Maybe he shouldn’t even have invited her out to a dinner which might make her believe that this relationship was going anywhere.
Yet wasn’t last night’s loss of her virginity and her subsequent enjoyment of sex supposed to herald the liberation she obviously needed? Couldn’t this be the start of a whole new chapter for her? He’d shown her that sex could be good—and, after a little more instruction, she could go out into the world and start living her life all over.
‘Did you … did you see the photo in the paper?’ she questioned tentatively.
‘I did.’ His mouth flattened. ‘I had them pull it from the online addition.’
‘They let you do that?’
‘They’d do pretty much anything for an exclusive interview. Don’t worry about it—I’ll do the best I can to make sure they leave you alone.’