Ann Major - A Scandal So Sweet

Finally, he rapped his knuckles on the door.

“Come in,” she whispered brokenly.

He flung the door open and stared at her across the darkness, his blazing eyes accusing her. When he flipped on the light, she sat up, brushed her fingers through her hair.

“Not ready I see.” His voice was hard and clipped.

“I was tired,” she whispered.

“I can well imagine.” His black eyes glittered coldly.

“I didn’t know what to wear… Or if you’d still want me to go with you…”

“Not go when everybody in Bonne Terre is so anxious to see you?” he said in a low, cutting tone. “Not that you left much of yourself to the imagination.”

“I can explain…”

“I’m sure-but why bother? Besides, my PR guys are thrilled. They say all your internet coverage is great for Torr Corporation.”

He walked over to the luggage rack and unzipped her suitcase. After rummaging through her clothes, he yanked out a low-cut, ruby-red gown that a personal shopper had bought for her in L.A. before she’d known about the pirated love scenes.

“Wear the red. Perfect choice,” he said. “You’ll look the part your legions of fans expect you to play. And you’ll be gorgeous beside me, which is all my PR people care about.”

But what did he care about? Whatever it was, it was devouring him alive.

“Zach, I haven’t seen the videos, so I don’t know exactly what you saw… But I was acting.”

“Save it! I’ll be back down in a minute!”

“Please-I can explain…”

“Sorry. I don’t have time for one of your offscreen Oscar performances. Although you’re good-very good. And you were even better last week-in my bed.”

He slammed the door in her face and was gone. As she listened to him stomp up the stairs, her heart constricted so tightly she was afraid it would shatter into a million tiny pieces. So, he didn’t care how she felt at all.

“You’ll get through this,” she whispered to herself. “You’ve gotten through worse.”

But had she? She’d never gotten over him… Or their precious baby.

Don’t think about that. You’ll go crazy if you do.

Zach didn’t speak to her on the drive over, and he looked so grim and forbidding she decided it was wise to give him time.

She had done nothing wrong. She’d done her job. Actors acted. She hadn’t made love to Hugh for the camera. Her character had. She didn’t even like Hugh. It wasn’t her fault someone had stolen the video.

Something told her Zach’s mood went deeper than jealousy.

The glow that hung over the trees ahead of them brightened as they neared the construction site. When they reached their destination, Zach parked and helped her out of the car. She drew in an awed breath.

The construction site looked nothing like it had last weekend. Transformed into an enchanted fairyland, it was lit by a thousand lanterns. White tents covered dance floors and a dining area. Champagne was being served by a dozen bartenders. Warm laughter and music drifted through the happy crowd. A podium had been set up in front of a thousand chairs.

No sooner had he stopped his Mercedes than reporters and photographers surrounded them.

Taking her icy hand, Zach led her into the thick of the paparazzi where they were blinded by flashes.

His expression fierce, Zach gave the screaming horde a brief statement and posed beside her for more pictures. Then he’d had enough. She hardly knew how he managed it, but with a wave of his hand, his own people led them past the press and into a cordoned-off area where the music and laughter died. For a full minute, she clung to Zach’s arm, while he braved this fresh crowd gaping at them with stunned expressions.

Before those prying eyes, she began to tremble, feeling the same guilt she’d known fifteen years ago when these same people had thought the worst of her and Zach.

“Easy,” Zach whispered against her ear as he placed a protective hand over hers. Then he signaled his contractor and the band, and the music resumed.

We’ve never done anything wrong, she thought. We were wronged.

Slowly, people turned away and began talking once more. Still, even though Summer held her head high, she felt their lingering interest too acutely; just as she felt the steely tension emanating from Zach’s hard body beside her.

Never had she been more conscious of having a spellbound audience. During the politicians’ speeches and the ceremonial breaking of the ground with shovels, people couldn’t stop staring at her and Zach.

She couldn’t let their stares matter. All that mattered was Zach.

Maybe he was furious at her. Maybe he felt utterly betrayed. Never once did he leave her side, but perhaps he was putting on a show for the public. Would he make such an immense effort to show his support merely for publicity reasons?

He even danced with her beneath the softly lit lanterns and moonlight, holding her close, swirling her about while all she wanted was to run home and have him to herself so she could explain.

Instead, he forced her to brave the curious, fawning crowd, forced her to stay until all the important guests and photographers had departed. Only then did he whisper in her ear, in a tone that chilled her to the bone, “The crowd has lost their appetite to devour you. Time for us to go home, sweetheart, and start our weekend.”

Once they were out of the area that had been cordoned off from the paparazzi, the horde chased them to his Mercedes.

A microphone was shoved in her face. “Is Torr your man now?”

“No comment,” snapped Zach as someone snickered.

“When do you plan to make up your mind, Summer?”

Summer felt a jolt as Zach shoved a reporter aside so he could open her door.

A flash went off in her face, blinding her as Zach raced around the hood.

He jumped behind the wheel. “Get your head down. There are cameras everywhere.”

“I thought this was what your PR guys wanted.”

“Yes, they’re probably thrilled.”

A moment later, he sped out of the parking lot with the pack tailing them. Inside his Mercedes, which was lit by the headlights of the paparazzi, Zach was fiercely silent behind the wheel. So fierce, she thought his anger had built during the opening ceremonies. She didn’t dare say a word during that endless drive through that tunnel of trees to his home.

No sooner were they at his house than the photographers circled them, snapping photographs and yelling questions again.

Zach put his arms tightly around her, shielding her face, and escorted her inside.

“I can see that after this, I’m going to have to build a wall and hire guards to protect my privacy,” he muttered once they were in his living room and had drawn the drapes.

“What did you expect, when you asked me to come here as a publicity stunt?”

He double-bolted the front door and turned on her.

“Okay. I got what I deserved-in spades. The PR junket is over. Tomorrow I want you gone. They’ll soon forget.”

“No, you and I know they never forget.”

“Well, I intend to forget. Bob will fly you wherever you want to go. My only request is that you and your bags are on the front porch at 8:00 a.m. That’s when I told Bob to pick you up. Do you understand?”

She nodded. “Why won’t you even let me explain?”

“I’m sure you could explain your way out of hell itself, but I’m not interested in hearing it.”

“What about Tuck?”

“I won’t press charges.”

“You just want me gone? Out of your life?”

“That about sums it up.”

“Zach, please-”

“Save it for your true loves-the stage and the press.” He turned on his heel and headed to his room. When his door slammed, she sagged against the wall as he banged about upstairs.