скачать книгу бесплатно
“Then what the hell is your problem?”
Hot, reckless anger flooded her. “My problem? Are you serious? You asked me to come here, and play fiancée, and I have. I don’t have a problem.”
“When you aren’t avoiding me.”
“I have done exactly what you asked me to do,” she said. “I have played the part of charming, simpering fiancée, I’ve worn this ring on my finger, and you can’t, for one second see why that might not be … something I want to do. And then you kiss me. Kiss me like … like you really are on your honeymoon, and you want to know what my problem is?”
He looped his arm around her waist and drew her to him, his eyes blazing. She braced herself against him, her palms flat on his bare chest. “I think I do know what your problem is. I think you’re avoiding me because of the kiss. Because you’re afraid it will happen again. Or because you want it to happen again.”
She shook her head slightly. “N-no. I haven’t even thought about it again.”
“Liar.” He dipped his head so that his lips hovered just above hers. “You want this.”
She did. She really did. She wanted his lips on hers. His hands on her body. She wanted everything. “You arrogant bastard,” she said, her voice trembling. “How dare you?”
“How dare I what? Say that you want it again? We both know you do.”
His lips were so close to hers and it was tempting, so tempting, to angle her head so that they met. So that she could taste him again. Have a moment of stolen pleasure again.
“You do want it,” he said again, his voice rough, strained.
“So?” she whispered.
“What?”
“So what if I do?” she said, finding strength in her voice. “What then, Zack? We’ll kiss? Sleep together? And then what? Nothing. You and I both know there won’t be anything after that. We’ll just ruin what we do have.”
He released his hold on her and took a step back, letting his hands fall to his sides. “Sorry.”
“You’ve been apologizing to me a lot lately,” she said, her voice trembling. “You don’t need to do that.”
He nodded. “I’m going to take a quick shower.”
“Not going to the temple?”
He smiled ruefully. “Still am. And you can come if you want. Provided you’ve worked the tantrum out of your system.”
“That was your tantrum, Parsons, not mine.”
“Maybe.” He tightened his jaw, his hands curling into fists. “Just tense I suppose. Coming with me or not?”
She hesitated. Because she did want to go, but things weren’t … easy with him at the moment. And the scariest thing was she wasn’t sure she wanted them to be easy again. She was sort of liking this new, scary dynamic between them. The one that made him touch her like she did something to him. Like he was losing control.
“I’ll be good. I promise,” he added.
She laughed, a fake, tremulous sound. “I wasn’t worried.”
Zack wasn’t the one who worried her. She hesitated because she wasn’t sure she trusted herself to behave.
“I was,” he said, turning away from her and walking back into the house. She watched him the whole way, the muscles on his back, the dent just above the waistline of his jeans, and his perfect, tight butt.
She let out a slow, shaky breath. Yeah, it was definitely herself she didn’t trust.
The temple at Doi Suthep was crowded with tourists, spiritual pilgrims and locals. Clara and Zack walked up the redbrick staircase, the handrails fashioned into guardian dragons with slithering bodies and fierce faces.
They were silent for the three-hundred-step trek up to the temple, Clara keeping a safe distance between them, in spite of the crush of people all around them. She was mad at him.
And fair enough, he’d been a jerk earlier. That was sexual frustration. Sexual frustration combined with the desire to give in to the need to kiss her again. To do more than kiss her.
Damn.
He could still remember the first time he’d seen Clara. She was working behind the counter at a bakery, flour on her cheeks. She was cute. Not the kind of woman he was normally attracted to. But she’d fascinated him. Utterly and completely. It had turned out she’d made great cupcakes, too. And that she was smart and funny. That it felt good to be with her.
The emotional connection to her, when he’d been lacking a connection with anyone for years, had been shocking, instant, and had immediately found him shoving his attraction to her away.
A friendship with her was fine. Anything else … he didn’t have room for it. Anything else would go beyond the boundaries he’d set for himself. And he needed his boundaries. His control. He valued it above everything else.
Just another reason he’d intended to marry Hannah. Marriage brought stability, a sort of controlled existence that attracted him. One woman in his bed, in his life.
And now that that had gone to hell, it seemed his feelings for Clara were headed in the same direction. He’d done with her, for seven years now, what he did with everything in his life. She had a place. She was his friend. She didn’t move out of that place in his mind.
His body was suddenly thinking differently. He’d made a mistake. He’d allowed himself too much freedom. He’d indulged his desire to look at her body. To touch her soft skin when they’d gone swimming. And that night, he’d given in to the temptation to allow her to feature in his fantasies. To find release with her image in his mind.
He’d allowed himself to cross the line in his mind, and that was where control started. He knew better. Yet it was hard to regret. Because wanting her was such a tantalizing experience. Just feeling desire for her was a pleasure on its own.
Her sweet, short, sundress was not helping matters. Though, thankfully she’d had to purchase a pair of silk pants to wear beneath it before they could head up toward the temple.
Still, even with her legs covered, there was that bright, gorgeous smile that had been plastered on her face since they’d arrived. She was all breathy sighs and sounds of pleasure over the sights and sounds. It was the sweetest torture.
“Incredible,” she breathed, her voice soft, sensual in a way. Enough to make his body ache.
“Yes,” he agreed. Mostly, he was looking at her, and not the immense, gold-laden temple.
He forced himself to look away from Clara. To keep his focus on the gilded statues, the bright, fragrant offerings of flowers, fresh fruit and cakes left in front of the different alters that were placed throughout the courtyard. A large, dome-shaped building covered entirely in gold reflected the sun, the air bright, thick with smoke from burning incense.
Monks in bright orange robes wove through the crowds, talking, laughing, offering blessing.
It was incredible. And still nowhere near as interesting as the woman next to him.
“Have you been enjoying yourself here?” he asked.
“More or less,” she said, looking at him from the corner of her eye, color creeping into her cheeks. Probably not the smartest question to ask. Why was he struggling with his words and actions? That never happened to him. Not anymore.
“The less would be me being a jerk and planting my lips on you, right?” Might as well go for honesty. Clara was the only person in his life who rated that. He didn’t want to violate it.
She blew out a breath. “Um … mostly the being a jerk. You’re a pretty good kisser, it turns out.”
“So you didn’t mind that?”
“Not as much as I should have.” Her words escaped in a rush.
“Glad to know I’m not the only one,” he said, forcing the words out.
“Not sure it helps anything.” She walked ahead of him, straying beneath the overhang of a curled roof, her eyes on the murals painted on the walls of the temple.
“Maybe not.” He leaned in, pretending to examine the same image she was.
“So … is there a solution?” She put her hand on the wall, tracing the painting of a white elephant with her finger.
He covered her hands with his, his heart pounding, his hand shaking like he was a teenage virgin. “Let me see.”
He leaned in, his mouth brushing hers. He went slow this time, asking the question, as he should have done the first time he’d kissed her. She didn’t move, not into him or away from him. He angled his head and deepened the kiss and he felt her soften beneath him, her lips parting beneath his, her breath catching, sharp and sweet when the tip of his tongue met hers.
He pulled away, his eyes on hers.
She released a breath. “How do you feel?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing.”
She looked up. “The roof didn’t fall in.”
“No,” he said, following her gaze. “It didn’t.”
She leaned into him, her elbow jabbing his side, a shy smile on her face. “Good to know anyway.”
“Glad it comforts you.”
She laughed, her cheeks turning pink, betraying the fact that she wasn’t unaffected. “Comfort may not be the right word.”
He looked around the teeming common area, at the completely unfamiliar surroundings. And he found he wanted to pretend that the feelings he was having for Clara were unfamiliar, too.
But he couldn’t. Because they had been there, for a long time, lurking beneath the surface. Ignored. Unwanted. But there.
“No. Comfort is definitely not the right word.”
They’d spent most of the day at the temple, then taken a car back to Chiang Mai where they’d wandered the streets buying food from vendors, and watching decorations go up on every market stall for a festival that was happening in the evening.
Now, with the event coming close, the streets were packed tight with people, carrying street food, flower arrangements with candles in the center, talking, laughing. It was dark out, the sun long gone behind the mountains, but the air was still thick, warm and fragrant. There was music, noise and movement everywhere. The smell of frying food mixed with the perfume of flowers and the dry, stale scent of dust clung to the air, filled her senses.
It almost helped block out Zack. But not quite. No matter just how much it filled up her senses, it couldn’t erase Zack. The imprint of his kiss. It had been different than the first one. Tender. Achingly sexy.
It had made her want more. Not simply in a sexual way, but in an emotional way. It didn’t bear thinking about. Still, she knew she would.
She kept an eye on the food stalls, passing more exotic fare, like anything with six legs or more, for something a bit more vanilla. Maybe food would help keep her mind off things. At least temporarily.
“I definitely don’t need this,” she said, stopping to buy battered, fried bananas from the nearest food stall.
“But you bought it,” he said, breaking a piece off the banana and putting it in his mouth.
“Well, that’s because sweets are my area of expertise. You’re here for the beans and tea leaves, I’m here for the pairing, right? This is research. It’s for work. I need to capture the new and exotic flavor profiles Chiang Mai has to offer,” she said, trying to sound official. “Maybe I can write off the calories?”
They dodged a bicycle deliveryman and crossed the busy, bustling street, moving away from the stalls and toward the river that ran through the city. “You don’t need to worry about it. You’re perfect like you are.”
She looked down at the bag of sweets. “You’re just saying that.”
“I’m not.”
She sucked in a sharp breath and looked at the lanterns that were strung from tree to tree, glowing overhead. “We should do this more. At home.”
“Eat?”
“No. Go do things. Mostly we work, and sometimes I feed you at my house, or we watch a movie at yours. Well, we do go out to lunch sometimes, but on workdays, so it doesn’t count.”
“We’re busy.”
“We’re workaholics.”
Zack frowned and stopped walking. He extended his hand and took a lock of her hair between his thumb and forefinger, rubbing it idly. “Is that why you’re leaving me?”
She looked up at him. “I’m not leaving you. I’m leaving the company.” And she was counting on that to put some natural and healthy distance between them. Roasted had brought them together, and because they got along so well, after spending the day at work together, half of the time it felt natural to simply go and have dinner together. Watch bad reality TV together. Once they weren’t involved in the same business it would only be natural they would drift apart. And with any luck, it would only feel like she was missing her right arm for a couple of years.
“What do you need? I’ll give it to you.”
“You’re missing the point, Zack. It’s about having something of my own.”
“Roasted isn’t enough for you? You’ve been there from the beginning, more or less. You’ve helped me make it what it is.”
“No. I just bake cupcakes. And there are a lot of people who can do my job.”
“But they aren’t you.”
She closed her eyes and let the compliment wash over her. She’d say this for Zack; he gave her more than most anyone else in her life ever had, including her family. But it was still just a crumb of what she wanted.
“No,” she said, “some of them are even better.”
She wove through the crowd to the edge of the waterfront. People were kneeling down and putting the flower arrangements with their lit candles into the stream. The crowd standing on the other side of the waterfront was lighting candles inside tall, rice paper lanterns, the orange spreading to the inky night, casting color and light all around.
Zack was behind her, she could sense it without even turning around. “I’m glad we came tonight,” she said.
Zack swept his fingers through Clara’s hair, moving it over her shoulder, exposing her neck. He didn’t normally touch her like that, but tonight, he found he couldn’t help himself. Things were tense between them. The kiss at the temple certainly hadn’t helped diffuse it.
He wondered if most of the tension had started in the bedroom back in the villa. That moment when they’d both looked at the bed and had that same, illicit thought.
If it had started there, they might be able to finish it there.
Temptation, pure and strong, lit him on fire from the inside out. She turned, and his heart slammed hard against his rib cage, blood rushing south of his belt, every muscle tensing. He could feel the energy change between them, like a wire that had been connecting them, unseen and unfelt for years had suddenly come alive with high-voltage electricity. He knew she felt it, too.
“We broke things, didn’t we?” she whispered.
