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Tension knotted at the base of Kate’s neck. A snide retort came to the tip of her tongue, but the sudden wave of exhaustion caught her unawares. She stepped back, trying to counterbalance the wobble in her legs and stumbled.
‘Hey, love, are you okay?’ She could barely hear Monty’s urgent question over the buzz saw in her head.
The tray clattered onto the floor. She tried to grab the table, scared of falling, but then Zack was towering over her. His fingers grasped her upper arms, holding her upright.
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ he asked.
She frowned, confused by the temper in his voice. What had she done now?
The familiar scent of him assailed her, she tried to pull away, but he held firm. He turned her body and the neon light from the bar shone on her face, making her squint.
He cursed. ‘You look like hell.’ His voice came from miles away. ‘When’s the last time you slept?’
She tried to lift her hands to shake him off, but someone had tethered ten ton weights to her wrists. ‘I’m fine,’ she said feebly, but she couldn’t seem to stop shaking.
‘The hell you are,’ he said, still sounding angry with her.
She wanted to argue with him. Wanted to tell him to get lost, but all that came out of her mouth was a pathetic whimper.
The world tilted and suddenly she was floating for real, her cheek rubbing the soft cotton of his T-shirt, her limbs weightless.
‘Mont, tell the bar staff she’s taking the rest of the night off. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
She heard the words but couldn’t quite process them. All she could see was the strong column of his neck, the shadow of stubble under his chin. Embarrassment washed over her as she felt his arms tense under her knees and across her back. For goodness’ sake, he was carrying her. The harsh light of the casino hit her as he walked out of the bar. She wriggled, tried to lift her head away from the rock solid shelf of his shoulder blade.
‘P-put me down.’Where had that stammer come from? And why was everything whirling around?
‘Forget it,’ he said, sounding even surlier. ‘If you can’t look after yourself, someone else is going to have to do it.’
Her mind tried to grasp hold of the indignation, the humiliation she should be feeling. But she couldn’t shake the thought that she was in a chilling fog and the only warm, solid thing there was him. She couldn’t push him away yet, or she’d be sucked into nothingness. Shivers of exhaustion raked her body.
His arms tightened around her and she heard the reassuring thud of his heartbeat. ‘Relax, Kate,’ he said, his voice gentle now, coaxing. ‘You’re okay, I’ve got you.’
‘Don’t drop me,’ she pleaded, too tired to care if she sounded pathetic.
‘I won’t,’ he said.
She softened into his strength, shut her eyes and let the fog envelop her like a warm, comforting blanket.
Zack felt Kate grow heavy in his arms. The machine-gun shots of his heartbeat finally began to slow as the deep, steady rhythm of her breathing brushed his neck. He tucked her head under his chin, adjusted her weight as he pushed the elevator call button.
He’d just lost ten years off his life.
Shock had propelled him out of the booth when she’d staggered in the bar. But as soon as he’d felt the tremors raking her body, seen the bruised smudges under her eyes, a cruel rush of guilt had replaced it. She looked shattered.
They’d got all of two hours’ sleep last night and while he’d been lying in bed most of the morning, feeling put upon, she’d been working in his hotel trying to make up the money she owed. Maybe she was nuts, maybe she drove him nuts, but the woman had guts.
The elevator button pinged and she stirred. ‘Shh,’ he hummed as if comforting a child. She relaxed against him. She wasn’t exactly light, but still she felt fragile. He tightened his hold, stepped into the elevator and nudged the button to the penthouse.
He ought to take her to her own suite, but he couldn’t do it. He wanted her with him, and not just for the obvious reason. He wanted to keep an eye on her. The urge to protect her surprised him, but he didn’t question it. He’d been right on the money earlier. If she couldn’t look after herself, someone else would have to do it. And at the moment, whether she liked it or not, it looked as if that someone was him.
CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_33584ca9-8960-5244-84a9-08e772f21f6d)
KATE STOOD IN THE DOORWAY of the palatial open-plan kitchen, cinched the tie on the silk kimono she’d found on the end of the bed and studied Zack’s back. He seemed surprisingly at home standing over the gleaming steel hob, spatula in hand. The buttery perfume of cooking eggs filled the air. The smell wasn’t the only thing making her mouth water. He looked tall and gorgeous as always in a pair of worn jeans and a faded sweatshirt with the sleeves torn off at the elbows.
What was it about watching macho guys cook that made a woman’s head spin? The sight wasn’t helping Kate’s nerves one bit.
‘Hi.’ Her voice came out on a silly little squeak. She cleared her throat and tried again. ‘Um, good morning.’
He stopped stirring, turned slowly and gave her an easy smile. ‘Morning.’ He nodded towards the breakfast bar and pointed at one of the stools with the spatula. ‘Take a seat. Breakfast’s done.’
She didn’t move. ‘What am I doing in your penthouse?’ she said blankly, trying hard not to be charmed.
Why was he cooking her breakfast? And what exactly had happened last night? All she remembered was passing out. She’d woken up from a deep, dreamless sleep ten minutes ago to discover herself in his bed with only a few scraps of underwear on, the mid-morning sunshine peeking through the curtains on the huge picture window.
It didn’t look good.
‘We’ll talk after we eat,’ he said, dishing the eggs onto plates already loaded with bacon and toasted muffins. ‘You want to grab the coffee?’
She didn’t want coffee, or breakfast for that matter. Her stomach was tied in greasy knots of apprehension. The only thing she did remember was making a complete fool of herself last night—swooning like the heroine in a bad B-movie. But she had absolutely no clue as to what had happened afterwards.
Had they made love?
If they hadn’t, why was he being so friendly now? He’d as good as ordered her off the premises last night in the bar.
If they had, she didn’t think her pride would ever recover.
Zack transferred the plates to the breakfast bar, which he’d already laid with cutlery and glasses of orange juice. He frowned when he looked up.
She was still rooted in the doorway.
‘Okay, spill it, whatever it is,’ he said, sounding exasperated. ‘I spent twenty minutes cooking breakfast—I don’t want to eat it cold.’ He placed the coffee pot and a couple of mugs next to their plates and waited.
Kate had always believed in being direct. Still she had to force the words out. ‘Did we sleep together last night?’
His eyebrows shot up and then he laughed. Kate’s back stiffened like a board. He slid onto one of the stools, keeping his bare feet on the floor, and poured himself a cup of coffee, still chuckling.
Heat rose in Kate’s cheeks. She wrapped her arms round her waist. ‘What’s so funny?’
He looked at her over the cup, still grinning at the private joke. ‘Sweetheart, you’ve given my ego some major-league hits in the last couple of days.’
The self-deprecating shake of his head and the warmth in his voice made Kate relax a little. ‘How so?’
He took a gulp of his coffee, put the cup down and patted the stool beside him. ‘Sit down and I’ll tell you.’
She hesitated, then walked to him and lifted herself onto the stool. Propping her feet on the foot bar, she tugged the silk over her bare legs.
He put a hand on her knee. She tensed, only too aware of the warm pressure through the cool silk, and the clean, devastatingly familiar scent of him.
‘All I’m saying is, when I make love to a woman, the lady usually remembers it in the morning.’ He lifted his hand. ‘And I don’t take advantage of women when they can’t say no.’ He fixed his eyes on hers. ‘You were out cold last night. So I took one of the other bedrooms.’
‘Oh, well, that’s good.’ She should have been relieved, but for some inexplicable reason she wasn’t, quite. ‘Thanks.’
‘You’re welcome,’he said, picking up his fork. ‘Now, eat up.’
She did as she was told, suddenly at a loss as to what to think. Okay, so they hadn’t slept together, but why was he being so nice to her, then? They’d hardly been on good terms the night before.
As soon as she tasted her breakfast, Kate’s appetite pushed the doubts to one side in a surge of hunger. She tucked into the light fluffy scrambled eggs, crispy bacon and hot buttered muffins, savouring every delicious bite. She was polishing off her second cup of coffee when she noticed he’d finished his breakfast and was watching her.
She put down her cup.
‘I see you found the robe,’ he said casually. ‘It suits you,’
Kate looked down at the luxurious blue silk kimono embroidered with a flame-breathing dragon down one side. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she murmured, pulling on the lapels. ‘Whose is it?’
As soon as she’d asked the question, she wished she could take it back. No doubt one of his other conquests had left the silk robe behind. She knew she had no claim on him, but somehow the thought of sitting in his kitchen in some other woman’s clothes made her lose her appetite.
‘I was given it on a business trip to Japan,’ he said, refilling his coffee-cup. ‘Over there, guys wear those things, too. It’s not really my style, though.’ His gaze wandered over her figure. ‘It looks better on you.’
Kate let out the breath she’d been holding, and then felt annoyed by her reaction. Why should she care who the kimono belonged to?
She wiped her mouth with her napkin. ‘Breakfast was delicious, Zack. Thanks, it was nice of you.’
‘Not really,’ he said, his expression unreadable. ‘I owed you an apology.’
‘You did?’ Why did she feel as if she was missing something vitally important here? ‘What for?’
‘For behaving like a jerk yesterday morning and last night in the bar.’
She blinked, surprised by the admission. She had assumed apologies weren’t his style any more than silk kimonos were. ‘Apology accepted, then.’
Time to leave, she decided, before she let that smouldering look get the better of her again. Popping off the stool, she reached for his plate.
He took her wrist, stilled her hand. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I thought I’d clean up, before I go.’
‘No need,’ he said, turning her hand over. ‘The housekeeping staff’ll get it later.’ He stroked his thumb across the pulse point, making her shiver. Then he lifted her hand to his lips and bit softly into the pad of flesh at the base of her thumb.
A sharp dart of desire shot straight down to Kate’s core.
‘Don’t,’ she said, curling her fingers into a fist. She tugged on her hand.
His eyes locked on hers, making her feel both trapped and needy. ‘Why not?’ he said, his voice gentle but firm. ‘What are you afraid of, Kate?’
You, she thought, the panic making her throat constrict. It had been hard enough walking away from him yesterday morning. Kind and considerate were the last things she would have expected from him. They pulled at a place deep inside her she didn’t want pulled at. There was nothing between them except one night of spectacular sex, and it would cost her if she ever forgot it.
‘I have to go,’ she said, struggling to ignore the jackhammer thumps of her heartbeat. ‘I need to check out of my suite today, and then I have to find another job.’
He let her hand go, swore under his breath. ‘Why are you so hung up on paying your way?’
‘I’m not hung up on it.’ She’d rather die than tell him the real reason—it was far too personal. ‘It’s just, it’s important to me, that’s all.’
‘Yeah, I get that.’ Frustration hardened his voice. ‘I was the one who stopped you falling on your face after you’d worked yourself into a coma, remember.’
The words came out harsher than Zack had intended. When he saw her flinch he could have kicked himself. Here he was trying to persuade her to stick around and he’d blown it, already. How did the woman get him worked up quicker than a wolf at a rabbit convention? He was famous for being smooth with women, and yet with her he found it all but impossible to keep his cool.
‘Yes, I do remember,’she said, her shoulders ramrod straight under the floating silk. ‘I also recall you telling me to leave your hotel. Which is what I intend to do, so you won’t have to pick me up off the floor again.’
‘Kate,’ he said, aiming for easygoing. ‘I’m not having that same argument all over again.’ Okay, maybe easygoing was going to be a stretch.
‘Good, because neither am I.’
She tried to walk past him. He stepped in front of her.
Defiance flashed in her eyes but behind it was something else. Something he’d seen the night before when he’d held her. Something that looked a lot like vulnerability. It gave him the cue he needed to say what he had to say.
‘I’ve got a proposition for you.’
Her eyes flared and he had to suppress a grin.
‘Not that kind of proposition.’Well, not quite anyway. ‘It’ll be worth your while. I swear. If you’ll sit down and listen.’
She still looked mutinous.
‘Please.’ The word made him feel uncomfortable, but when she huffed and sat back on her stool he figured it had been worth it.
‘All right, I’m listening,’ she said, her chin still thrust out.
She looked stiff as a poker, perched precariously on the edge of the stool, but at least he wasn’t watching her cute rear end walking out the door.
Now, how to say what he wanted to without setting her off again?
Luckily for him, he’d spent most of the night giving the problem a whole lot of thought and he had a plan. All he had to do was stick to it.
When he’d got her up to the penthouse the night before, his first concern had been getting her out of her outfit without waking her up.
It had been an exquisite kind of torture, the flowery scent she wore making him instantly hard as he’d recalled just how hot and ready she’d been in his arms the previous evening. He’d had no trouble keeping his thoughts G-rated, though, once he’d eased off her shoes and seen the raw, reddened skin on her heels and toes.
The guilt had swamped him. He’d tried to tell himself it wasn’t his fault that she’d worked herself to exhaustion. He wasn’t the bastard who’d stranded her in a foreign city with no clothes, no money. But he hadn’t quite managed to convince himself. The feeling of responsibility and the urge to keep her safe were as strong, if not stronger, than they had been when he’d carried her out of the bar.
He’d never met a woman as independent, as self-sufficient as she was or as determined to prove it. And he’d certainly never met a woman he wanted to take care of before. That the thought was arousing as well as infuriating was just another one of the contradictions that made his reaction to this woman unique.
He’d spent the previous day sulking, telling himself she could go hang herself for all he cared. But once he’d been sitting on the edge of his bed, watching the gentle rise and fall of her breathing, he’d had to admit that whatever it was that was between them, it wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
While he’d been sitting there in the half-light considering that startling fact, a part of the conversation they’d had during their first meeting had poked at the back of his brain. Had she told him she’d been working as Andrew Rocastle’s PA? The possibility had seemed almost too fortuitous to be true so he’d had the concierge pull out Rocastle’s registration details and then made a late-night call to Rocastle’s company offices in London where it had been already morning. He’d spoken to a very helpful personnel woman who’d pointed out that Kate Denton had indeed worked as Rocastle’s PA until an ‘unfortunate incident’ two days ago. He knew all about the ‘unfortunate incident’and it hadn’t put him off in the least. Anyhow, he only need offer her a two-week contract. If she wasn’t up to the job he was offering her it hardly mattered. Her typing skills weren’t the main reason he wanted her at his beck and call.
Kate Denton was a fire in his blood he needed to get out. A few weeks with her working as his PA ought to cure him of his obsession once and for all—and if she did a halfway decent job, all the better.
