I came out of the bath, damp and seeking the warmth of Zach’s arms, only to find the bedroom empty. Cocking my head, I padded out of the room, my feet leaving damp imprints on the plush carpet.
The smell of spices tickled the insides of my nose as I followed the scent. I found Zach in the kitchen, a room I hadn’t yet been in.
It was warm, and bright, the overhead lights illuminating cream walls and a charcoal slate backsplash. Bright copper pots dangled overhead, and a massive flat-screen television was mounted on the wall above the table.
I might have wondered further about the need for such a thing in a kitchen, but my attention was drawn to Zach.
His back to me, he stood at the stove, browning what appeared to be ground beef. As I watched silently from the doorway, I found that though he seemed less sure of himself here than he did in the boardroom—or the bedroom—he still commanded the space, filled it, as he added handfuls of chopped red peppers to the pan.
I tugged at the hem of his T-shirt, which I had pulled on after the bath. I didn’t keep nightclothes here, and I wasn’t secure enough in my body to go running around naked. I knew it was silly, since he had seen every bit of me, but I couldn’t get rid of the feeling.
Standing there, wearing his shirt, watching him cook something that was obviously for me, brought all my feelings bubbling to the surface. This man, this beautiful, complex man, made me weak in the knees.
Unless he could give me everything, though, it wasn’t going to work.
Enjoy it while it lasts. Squeezing my eyes shut tightly, then opening them wide, I went on instinct. Before I could overthink it, I moved behind him quietly, then wrapped my arms around his waist and squeezed.
“Hey.” Leaning around his torso, I sniffed at the pan. The scent made my mouth water. I hadn’t realized that I was hungry, but that was Zach. Always anticipating my needs. “Whatcha making?”
He always seemed to know what I needed before I did.
He stiffened in my embrace, then slowly relaxed. I didn’t comment, instead stepping back and hitching myself up to sit on the counter.
“Taco skillet.” There was something in the depths of his eyes when he turned that I couldn’t quite read, but his expression was warm as he ran a hand easily up my thigh and pressed a quick kiss to my lips. “Want some wine?”
I murmured my assent as he moved to the fridge to remove a bottle of wine, then to the cupboard. The first one that he opened held plates. The second had coffee mugs. Growling with frustration, he flung open the door to the third, removing the two wineglasses that he had been searching for.
I couldn’t quite stifle a giggle as he poured a glass of the straw-colored wine and handed it to me.
“Something amuse you, minx?” His smirk was self-deprecating as he pulled a package of tortillas from the freezer and tore the bag open. I watched, mesmerized, as he cut the tortillas into strips.
He clearly didn’t cook very often. That he was doing so for me made my heart beat a little too fast in my chest.
“Don’t spend much time in here, huh?” The wine was both tart and sweet as it slid over my tongue. When Zach turned, insinuated himself between my legs, I wasn’t prepared for the firm, playful pinch on my bottom and I squealed, only half in protest.
“I don’t have much cause to.” Dipping a finger into my wine, he painted it over my lips, then leaned in for a taste. He was bare chested, and his black lounge pants slung low on his hips. I expected his hands to move to the usual places, to tease the heat from me.
Instead, the kiss held warmth, and familiarity, and comfort.
When he turned back to the stove, I found my whole world had shifted off balance.
“I can make this easy enough. Ground beef, peppers and tomatoes, tortillas, cheese.” Pulling a plate from the counter to the pan, he portioned out several large spoonfuls. “I can also make scrambled eggs and toast, and spaghetti. And I’m the king of anything from a box.”
Setting the plate beside me on the counter, he opened one drawer, then another, until he found a fork. I could feel the heat emanating from the dish, warming my skin, and even as my stomach growled I eyed it dubiously.
“Zach, I love that you cooked for me, but I can’t eat all of that.” He grinned as he settled himself between my legs again, standing far enough away that he could hold the plate between us. Scooping up a forkful, he held it to my lips.
“It’s not all for you. We’re sharing. Less dishes that way.” My mouth fell open, and he used the opportunity to place the bite in my mouth.
He had cooked for me. He was feeding me.
If I didn’t know that something big still stood in our way, I could almost have believed that we were a couple, one like any other.
“Well?” Zach watched as I chewed and swallowed. It was good—not fancy, but the fact that he had cooked it for me made it the best meal I had ever had.
I couldn’t tell him that, not without him shutting down completely. So I made a show of shrugging nonchalantly, then picked up my wineglass for a sip.
“Well, it’s not scrambled eggs and toast, but I suppose it will do.” I yelped when he reached for my hair, winding the damp tail through his fingers. He tugged gently until my head fell my back, my neck exposed.
He pressed a kiss to the base of my neck, then looked down at me intently. I squirmed under the stare, but didn’t wriggle out of his grip.
“I don’t cook for just anyone, you know.” Though his words were light, his expression was not. I felt my heart stutter in my chest as we stared into each other’s eyes, the air between us thick.
“Have you ever cooked for anyone before?” I had time to stop before I spoke, but I wanted to know.
“No.”
I flinched inwardly, waiting for him to shut down. Instead, after a long, long pause, he leaned forward and pressed the lightest whisper of a kiss over my lips.
I blinked as he scooped up another forkful of food and held it to my mouth.
“Now eat up. You’re going to need your strength. I’m not done with you yet.”
The last barriers that I had been able to keep in place, the ones protecting my heart, dissolved as the fork met my lips.
I was done for.
• • •
I was hovering on the edge of sleep when Zach’s hand sought mine in the darkness. He twined his fingers around mine, and I smiled sleepily, moving closer to the warmth of his body.
When he spoke, his voice was tight. Sensing what was about to happen, I propped myself up on my elbow, suddenly alert.
“You have no idea what I’ve come from.” In the dark, I saw that his face was turned toward the ceiling, the shadows from outside dancing over it. “My mother left my dad and me when I was just a kid. My dad never raised a hand to me, but after she left, every word that he said to me, every time he looked at me, I saw that he wished it had been me who’d gone, not her.”
The self-loathing in his voice shocked me to the core. I’d known he had issues, but this, the full extent of this had been hidden very, very well.
“It was pretty clear that there was no love for anyone in that house. A shrink that I had . . . later . . . showed me that I made sure there was none for me anywhere else, either. I was a violent kid, angry, always starting fights at school. I smoked a lot of pot, drank whenever I felt like it, and kept to myself, to make sure that no one got close enough to hurt me again.”
Apart from the drinking and the drugs, he could have been talking about himself now. I kept that thought to myself, not wanting to break the spell that had allowed him to say even this much.
“Marie . . . was someone who slipped past all of that. She was exactly the kind of girl that I resented. She was a cheerleader, an honors student, on student council. She came from a loving, unbroken family. She had everything that I didn’t.” He laughed, and the sound wasn’t bitter as I’d expected. I tamped down hard on the surge of jealousy that I felt for this girl who had been in Zach’s life long ago.
“We were partnered up in a biology class. I knew that she was flirting with me, but at first I thought she was just trying to piss off her parents, or was attracted to bad boys. Something, there had to be something, because I couldn’t understand why she would be interested in me.” The awe was clear in his voice. I felt myself shift uneasily, not comfortable with the story.
What did you expect, Devon? That whatever was haunting him would turn out to be made of sunshine, puppy dogs, and rainbows? Of course there was someone else before you.
“She wasn’t like that, didn’t have a pretentious bone in her body. She actually liked me. I liked her back. And that was it. Marie broke down my barriers with a smile and her sweet personality, and for the first time in my life, I knew what it was like to love, and even more, to be loved in return.”
I hated her. I hated this long-ago girl, whom I knew almost nothing about. I hated her because once Zach had loved her, and unlike with me, he had accepted her love in return.
My fingernails bit into my palms until the sharp pain forced me to relax them.
As though attuned to my distress, Zach rolled to his side, then placed my palm flat and open before him. He traced patterns on it with his finger, staring down at it in the dark, so that he didn’t have to look up.
Didn’t have to look at me.
“We dated for nearly two years. She straightened me out, set me on a better path. I pulled up my grades enough to start at a community college after graduation. She went to a much bigger school, but we still saw each other whenever we could.” I swallowed thickly, encouraging him with my silence to continue speaking.
His tone had darkened, and I tensed. I knew that what came next would be the crux of his issues. I just wondered if he would be able to tell me.
His breath hitched, and after a long pause he resumed his story. I exhaled in a rush that made me dizzy, relieved that he hadn’t stopped.
“She was back home for a visit at Christmas, the first year we had both been away at school.” Zach’s voice went flat, tense. The finger tracing designs into my palm stabbed harder, and I winced but didn’t pull away.
“We went to a party. Neither of us drank. She just didn’t like it, and I had drunk enough in my early teens for a lifetime.” Oh, no. I saw where the story was going, and my heart started to break.
“We were on our way home from the party. My dad was away for the weekend, and we were excited to spend the night together.” I knew what was coming, and yet I couldn’t stop that frisson of jealousy.
I was a horrible person. Even knowing that, I couldn’t help it.
“You can guess the rest, I’m sure. It’s not a unique story. A drunk driver hit us head-on. I walked away with a few scratches. Marie was killed.” My heart felt as though it was being squeezed in a giant fist. Any feelings of jealousy and anger I had felt disappeared in an instant.
That poor, poor boy—that boy who had grown up to be Zach. Powerful, distant, billionaire business mogul Zachariah St. Brenton.
“You were driving.” It wasn’t a question. So many things made sense now, including his need for control.
“Yes.” His voice was terse as he bit out the word. I felt a jolt when, after avoiding my eyes for the entire conversation, he looked straight at me, his expression defiant even in the dim light.
“In Cambria, when you left. I was coming after you to tell you that I just needed some time to wrap my head around . . . around what you had said.” Propping himself up on one elbow, Zach ran a hand through his hair, something that I had come to learn meant that he was agitated. “When that car almost hit you . . . that fury, that wasn’t because you had said you loved me. It was because I was so scared that it had very nearly happened again.”
I held my breath. My heart began to beat triple time. He was so close, so close to saying what I so badly wanted to hear him say.
“It made me realize something.”
Yes. Yes. Please. Tell me that you love me, too.
The three little words that I was waiting for didn’t come. Instead Zach reached for the remote that sat on his bedside table and hit a button. The overhead lights came on, dim, but overwhelming to eyes that had adjusted to the dark.
He pulled my arm out from my side. I followed his gaze as he ran his hands over a series of small pink bruises. Made by his fingers as he had thrust inside of me, they were barely noticeable to the naked eye, and they certainly didn’t hurt.
Guilt was painted over his face as he studied each and every one.
“These were completely consensual, Zach.” I tried to keep the edge of panic from my voice. He had finally broken down and shared with me. I couldn’t let him withdraw now.
He stared into my face, and a hint of dominant Zach peered through the dark depths of his eyes.
“I saw a shrink for years after the accident.” He looked so ferocious that I was afraid to interrupt. “My need for control, the dominant side of my personality, was birthed during that car accident. The doc thought that it went a step further, though. He was certain that my . . . lifestyle . . . stemmed from guilt from Marie’s death. He thought that when I indulged in BDSM practices, I was doing my best to drive away a potential partner, since deep down, I didn’t feel that I deserved one.”
I froze, pinned beneath his stare. Poor Zach. No wonder he ran so hot and cold. He had been put through the ringer.
“I don’t agree.” His expression dared me to argue with him. “My dominance came from the accident. Yes, I think that’s true. But I know that I live the lifestyle that I do because I need something that the vanilla world doesn’t offer.”
I had no idea what to say, though his eyes raked over my face, searching for clues to my thoughts.
“No matter where it came from, that . . . need . . . it’s a part of me now. It’s how I live my life. And while there are lots of women who like some kink while they’re getting fucked, when it spills into other areas of their lives, they’re gone.” I knew that he used coarse language deliberately to shock me, but still, the statement hit me like a slap in the face.
I was one of those women he was referring to, at least in his eyes. I was here for a good time, for some kink in the sex we shared together.
Why couldn’t he understand that I loved him, loved all of him?
Maybe I was competing with the ghost of sweet Marie, after all.
Even though he had shared his story with me, I could see clearly that he wouldn’t—no, couldn’t—give me that last piece of the puzzle.
“I see.” I felt my inner barriers rising, walling off my heart as I shoved the covers off and slid out of bed. I fumbled with the clasp of the bracelet that he had secured around my wrist earlier. When the heavy weight fell into my hand, I clenched my palm around it, then threw it at him.
“You know what, Zach? This time I’m going to go before you throw me out. Hear this, and hear it loud and clear. I’m done.”
• • •
It was getting to be a bad habit, sitting at my desk at work, trying to hold it together after an emotional showdown with Zach.
This time, there was one big difference, however. I was strong enough to know that this mess, this entire clusterfuck—this had nothing to do with me. I had tried. I had given everything, had given things that I hadn’t even known were mine to give.
Though I was in a lot of pain, I found some comfort in that.
“You look great today, Devon.” I looked up to find Tony giving me the once-over, stark admiration in his eyes. I raised my eyebrows at him, and he shrugged sheepishly. “We’re not allowed to date, but that doesn’t mean I can’t look.”
I rolled my eyes and laughed, though I felt somewhat buoyed by the comment, a lifesaver in a dark-water kind of day.
“I brought you a coffee. It’s on your desk.” Tony looked over to where the paper cup sat in front of his computer, then smiled back at me at the gesture. A tendril of pleasure wove its way through my misery.
I had deliberately done my best to look good that morning. The new Devon, the one who had stepped all the way out of her shell and would never go back in, refused to hide in black clothing and shyness anymore.
Today, I wore a turquoise blouse that actually fit, rather than hanging loosely over my frame in an attempt to hide my figure. My slacks were the color of a mocha latte, and my shoes matched, with a heel significantly higher than I was normally comfortable in.
I was dying inside, but no one needed to know that but me.
As I waited for my computer to boot up, I reached down for the purse that I had secured under my desk. My mouth was sore from Zach’s assault on it the night before, and I was desperate for a good dose of medicated lip balm.
When I again straightened, he was there, his expensive black suit fitted to him in ways that made my body jealous.
“You’re here.” His voice was full of surprise. I narrowed my eyes, taking no little satisfaction in the fact that the normally unflappable Zachariah St. Brenton looked like a mess, apart from the suit.
His skin was pale, and dark shadows bruised the skin beneath his eyes. He didn’t look as though he had slept for even a minute, and his hair stood on end.
“Of course I’m here.” I fought hard to keep the waspish tone out of my voice. I had already given this man everything. I wasn’t going to let him know that he had my grief, as well. “I work here. Why are you here? And by ‘here’ I mean at my desk, keeping me from doing my work.”
His eyes widened, and he actually looked taken aback. I didn’t care if he was about to get mad from my lack of respect, or whatever else he could come up with to get his panties in a twist about.
His emotions were no longer my problem. I had learned that much.
“I can’t believe you stayed.” He cocked his head, studying me intently. I stared right back. I thought I detected a hint of astonishment in his eyes, but it was gone as fast as it had appeared.
“Am I not supposed to be here?” If he was about to try to fire me because I’d been screwing the boss, then I wasn’t going to go down easy. “I like it here. I’m staying. With or without you.”
“No, no. Of course you’re supposed to be here. I just . . . I’m surprised.” In my peripheral vision I could see that we were beginning to attract nearly as much attention as we had the other day. I shifted uncomfortably at the realization.
I truly did like my job. If we weren’t together, then these little visits from Zach were going to have to stop.
Otherwise, my life at work was going to become a living hell. I would forever be the woman who had had an affair with the CEO, and nothing else.
“Miss Reid. Can we talk?” I felt myself wavering at the entreaty in Zach’s voice, but I steeled myself against it. “Let’s go for breakfast.”
“I think everything was said last night, Zach.” I kept my words to a whisper, aware that the entire department was trying to eavesdrop. “Please. Leave me alone.”
My words seemed to trigger something in him. Before my eyes he transformed, dominant Zach coming to the fore. Even through all of my anguish, I felt heat rush to parts that I shouldn’t have been thinking of.
Cut it out! I lectured myself to no avail. I was so deeply attuned to this man that it was going to take me years to get over him.
He looked down at me intently, and I understood that in that moment I had all the power. I sputtered, unable to come up with the right words.
“Unless you use your safe word, I am going to continue.” He fixed me with the look that told me if I argued, I would be punished later.
I felt my world, and my self-control, spinning out of my grasp.
“Now I must insist. Come with me.” I opened my mouth to say no, and he countered. “I don’t want to scoop you over my shoulder and carry you away, but I will if I have to, so you might as well come.”
He turned and walked away, and I saw that his steps weren’t as sure as they normally were.
The uncharacteristic uncertainty boxed me into a corner, and I had no choice but to do as he said. Fuming, I followed him into the conference room, where I grabbed the remote and began to randomly hit buttons, trying to frost over the windows.
Instead I made a projection screen drop down out of the ceiling, and turned the lights out.
Zach calmly took the remote from my hand as I exclaimed with frustration, the sound echoing off the walls of the closed room. Pressing the correct buttons—of course—he turned on the lights, frosted over the windows, and sent the screen back into the ceiling.
“Please hold still and listen.” His tone told me that he expected to be listened to, but there was a nervousness to the way he held himself before me. To put my own stamp on his instructions, I planted my feet shoulder width apart and stood with arms akimbo.
As I faced him, I realized anew just how angry I was. I loved this man—really, truly loved him, a feeling that was worlds apart from what I thought I had felt for my ex. I was so hurt, and so angered, at his treatment of it.
“I know I’ve handled this poorly.” His voice was somber, a break from the commanding tones that usually sounded when he spoke. It had the desired effect, I thought, because he halted my inner tirade in midstride.
“Just . . . listen for a moment, all right?” Running his hand through his hair, showing me his agitation, he began to pace. It was something that I had never seen the cool, calm and in control Zach do before. Ever.
“I am sexually dominant. You know this. You are sexually submissive. You may not want to admit it, but you know that that’s true, too.” My heart gave a giant throb, remembering the state of nirvana that his dominant nature had brought me to the night before.
“I don’t know what that has to do with anything, Zach—” I started to protest, but he held up a hand, palm out, and silenced me with one look.
“With you—God, Devon, with you I don’t have to control everything. It’s the first time in years that I’ve been able to breathe.” His eyes sought for and caught my own, and I inhaled sharply when I saw the raw honesty reflected there.
“You could have fooled me.” I raised my eyebrows at him. I was sure that he believed what he was saying, but part of it didn’t ring true for me. “You seem to be quite in control when it comes to me.”
The barest hint of a grin curled Zach’s lips, and he looked so damn sexy that my stomach clenched.
“Needing control and enjoying it are two separate things.” The faint smirk faded, and he moved forward, catching my stiff fingers in his own. “The second you walked out the door last night, I wanted you back. I didn’t expect this to go so far, and I don’t know if I’m any good for you in the long run, but I don’t know if I can live without you, either.”
His words took the wind right out of my sails. I stared at him, mouth agape, my brain furiously trying to comprehend what he had just said.
“I—I don’t understand.” My voice shook. I wasn’t sure that my heart could hold to another of Zach’s come here–go away changes in mood.
But . . . oh, how I wanted him. Wanted him forever.
“What’s changed?” Though I was still wary, I felt my heart thaw, just a fraction, when he released my hands, then curled his fingers around to the back of my waist. The possessive gesture, his fingers at the small of my back, made need unfurl inside of me like a flower reaching up for the sun.
“Up until the moment you walked out the door last night, I was convinced that I had to be strong enough for both of us, that it wasn’t right to inflict my demons on your life.” I huffed in frustration—this was what I had been running from when I landed in San Francisco, a life that followed the expectations of others. “But when I told you my story . . . you didn’t flinch. You didn’t turn away. You weren’t disgusted with me.”
Irritation washed through me.
“Of course I wasn’t disgusted with you. Why on earth would I be?” Exasperated, I shoved at his chest, staring up at him like he had grown a second head when he threw his head back and started to laugh.
“Zach, are you feeling all right? I know you couldn’t have gotten much sleep last night.” I moved restlessly in his arms, trying to free myself, but he only drew me closer, nuzzling his face into my hair.
“You don’t even see it, do you? Most people would have been turned away by my never-ending issues. But you see only the good. You’re a gift.” His lips grazed over the tender skin that covered the pulse in my neck, and my knees went weak.
“Zach, I can’t do this again. I need all of you, or nothing at all.” He let me push him away this time, and I stepped back until I was out of his aura, where I could breathe.
When I looked back up, he had the bracelet in one hand, and a small box in another. I felt my blood begin to fizz through my veins in decadent anticipation, even as my mind rapidly ran through a list of every bad thing that could possibly happen in the next five minutes, trying to prepare me.
“You are the first woman that I have met since losing Marie who is worth the risk.”
I began to tremble when he took my hand in his and fastened the bracelet on my wrist again. The circlet of star sapphires winked up at me, warm and stunningly beautiful.
“I would rather take whatever I can have with you and risk the notion that I might lose you someday, than never have you at all.” Once the bracelet had been secured on my wrist, Zach held out the other small box. I felt as though I was trying to push through a heavy fog in the air as I closed my fingers around it.
Chills shimmied up and down my spine as I opened the box and found a ring inside. A solitary star sapphire winked out of its white gold setting at me, making me promises that I couldn’t quite believe.
“What—what is this, Zach?” I stared up at him, wide-eyed. This couldn’t possibly be happening. I was dreaming; I had to be dreaming.
“It’s whatever you want it to be, Devon.” A small, choked sound escaped my throat as Zach took the ring from the box, and slipped it on my finger—my left ring finger. Feeling a little bit wild, I began to tremble.
His hand, stroking the tender skin on the inside of my wrist, brought me back down to earth.
“I mean it. I will do whatever makes you happiest. Devon, you’ve taught me that I can be dominant and still take risks with someone. I want to be with you, whatever that means for us. I will marry you tomorrow if you’ll have me. Or we could get engaged. Or it can be a token from someone who loves you.” His voice shook over the one word that I had been so longing to hear. “I’ll even accept that it’s a friendship ring, so long as that friendship comes with undying devotion . . . and sexual benefits.”
I barked out a laugh, reaching out to bury my fingers into the fabric of his suit jacket.
“Say it again.” Light began to fill me, and I still felt as though I were dreaming.
“Say what?” He shot me a sexy grin, all innocence and light now that he saw my response clearly in my eyes. “Sexual benefits?”
“Don’t tease me! Say it!” Zach extinguished all traces of humor. Taking both of my hands in his own, he looked down into my eyes, and I saw what I needed to know before he said it.
“I love you.” My heart stuttered in my chest. “I love you, Devon, and this ring can mean anything you want it to, anything at all, as long as it includes love.”
“I love you, too.” I closed my eyes for a long moment as I let the bone-deep bliss wash over me. I had no idea how we had arrived at this point—the last two months had been a wild ride.
But now my life was on track, and I had everything that I could possibly want.
“How about this? The ring means that I am yours. It means that you are mine.” I found myself crushed against Zach’s chest, my lips devoured the instant I was done speaking. Heat poured through me as he pinned me to the long, hard length of his body.
One hand slid up to palm my breast through my blouse. I gasped as my nipple pebbled beneath his touch.
“You look amazing today.” Releasing my lips only long enough to whisper in my ear, Zach closed his teeth over my pulse, marking me, before he returned to kissing me senseless. “You need to wear color more often. I’ll buy you some.”
“What are you doing, Zach?” I moaned into his mouth as he released my breast, clasped me around the waist, and lifted me up. My legs twined tightly around his waist, my heated core blazing against the firmness of his erection.
“I’m going to take you on the conference room table, Devon.” He placed my bottom against the edge of the table, my legs still entwined around him, and busied himself with undoing the buttons on the front of my blouse.
I blinked with surprise, even as I arched into his touch.
“Here?” Reaching for the waistband of his slacks, I slipped my hand inside and ran my thumb over the hot velvet of his erection. “Now?”
“Here,” he confirmed as he groaned and thrust into my hand. Not bothering with the clasp of my bra, he simply pulled the wire and lace down beneath my breasts, pushing them up to him like an offering. “Now. And you’re going to let me. You know why?”
“Why?” I arched my back, giving him better access to my erect nipples. Nerves skittered along my skin, knowing that all of my coworkers were just on the other side of the conference room door. The nerves added to the potency of my arousal, and I knew that I would have a hard time being quiet.
Zach slid his hand down the front of my pants, into my panties, and found my clit. As he began to stroke with sure movements, he slid another finger inside of my liquid heat, grinning at the way I responded, pushing myself against him, all reservation gone.
I would do anything for this man.
I would do everything for him.
He possessed me, body and soul.
“You’ll let me because I love you.”
Zachariah St. Brenton was rarely wrong.