Maisey Yates - Scandals Of The Rich - A Façade to Shatter

Even as she thought it, she knew she didn’t really want that, either.

“For your information,” she continued, “I did not set out to ‘trap’ you. That is the most arrogant, conceited, unbelievable thing you have said yet. No one forced you to do what you did in Palermo. No one forced you to take that risk.”

His expression was dark. “No, you’re right about that. No one forced me. It was a mistake, and I was stupid enough to make it.” His eyes slid over her, came to rest on her face again. “Everything about those two days was a mistake.”

Lia tried not to let that hurt her, but she didn’t quite succeed. It stung her in places she’d thought she’d locked away long ago. “Well, now that we have that out of the way, I think it must be time for the dessert course.”

She turned her back on him and started down the hall, back toward the dinner. Tears pricked her eyes. Angry tears, she told herself.

Zach’s hand on her elbow brought her up short. She whirled around and jerked out of his grip.

He was a dark, brooding presence. “Look, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” He shoved a hand through his hair, blew out a breath.

Lia glared at him steadily. “I did not trap you, Zach. I’d like you to admit that.”

His expression remained dark. “Fine. You didn’t trap me.”

“And what about not believing I was telling the truth? Are you going to admit you were wrong about that, too?”

His eyes gleamed. “No.”

She stiffened. “Of all the rude, arrogant—”

“What reason did I have to believe you?” he said heatedly. “We’re strangers, Lia, regardless of what happened in Palermo.”

She swallowed against the knot of anger and pain clogging her throat. But she knew what he said was true. Would she have believed a story like hers if she were Zach? Considering his previous experience of women, perhaps not.

“I will concede that point,” she said coolly, though her heart beat hot at the admission. “But I don’t like it.”

He reached for her hand, slipped it into his. Her entire body went on red alert just from that simple touch. She wanted more of him, more of what they’d had in Palermo. And yet she knew that was the last thing she should want. The very last. They had an arrangement in name only, to protect their families, until such time as they could go their separate ways and not cause a scandal.

She had to remember he didn’t truly want this child. Or her.

She tried to pull her hand away, but he held it tight.

“Darling, we’re returning to the event,” he chided her. “We have to look happy together if they are to believe our whirlwind romance.”

“I’m not very good at pretending,” she said stiffly.

He tugged her closer. “Then I will have to give you a reason to smile,” he said, slipping his hand around to the small of her back and pressing her against him. He pulled the hand he’d trapped up to his chest, pressed her palm against the smooth fabric of his tuxedo.

“There is nothing you can do to make me smile, Zach,” she said, though her heart beat harder and faster as the look in his eyes changed. Heat flared in their dark depths and her body responded by softening, melting. She held herself rigid, unwilling to give in to the feelings swirling inside her. Feelings that wanted her to tilt her head back and offer her lips up for him to claim. “I want you to let me go.”

His eyes were hooded as they dropped to her mouth, and a shot of adrenaline pulsed into her veins.

“I will,” he murmured. “But not quite yet.”

ZACH WAS ON the edge of control. Not in a way that made him sweat as helpless panic rose in his throat and threatened to squeeze the life from him. But he had a need to dominate. A need to take this infuriating woman to his bed and not let her out of it for several hours.

Not until she sighed her pleasure into his ear. Not until she gasped out his name the way she had in Palermo. Sweet, innocent Lia. He wanted to taste her again. Wanted to know if she was as sweet as he remembered. As intoxicating.

She stood very still in his grasp. He didn’t hold her tight. She could have broken free with a single tug. Oh, not when he’d first gripped her hand. Definitely not then. At that moment, he’d been intending to saunter back into the gathering with his woman at his side, looking happy and enraptured for the world to see.

He knew how this game was played. He could have a fast romance and marriage, but first he had to be seen with Lia. And they needed to appear as if they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. So far, they’d looked as if they might prefer to touch anyone else rather than each other.

He had to change that perception, especially since there were at least three reporters circulating at this party tonight. Tomorrow, on the society pages of the local papers, they’d mention his date. By tomorrow evening, they’d know everything about Lia Corretti.

And what he wanted them to know was that she was mad for him.

Except she didn’t look so much mad for him as mad at him at the moment. Furious, with her snapping blue-green eyes and dark auburn hair that caught the light like a flame. Her lips parted slightly as he stared at them. Her breathing grew shallow, her creamy breasts rising and falling more rapidly.

He could see the pulse thrumming in her neck. A very male sort of satisfaction slid through him. Lia was not immune, no matter how she bristled and glared.

Zach reached up and ran his thumb over the pulse at her throat. She gasped, but she didn’t pull away.

“We were good together,” he purred. “We could be again.”

Her eyes were wide as she gazed up at him. “This is an arrangement, Zach,” she said, her voice hardly more than a whisper. “An arrangement that does not include sex.”

He was beginning to regret that he’d used that word with her. She was intent on keeping it strictly business since he’d told her this was a temporary solution to protect their families from the media.

He’d fully intended it to be temporary when he’d said it. It had seemed the perfect solution. He didn’t know the first thing about being a father, wasn’t sure he could even do it. If he married Lia, gave their child a name and a legacy, they could go their separate ways in a few months and everything would be fine.

Except, strangely, since the moment the doctor had given him the test results earlier, he’d felt a sense of duty that warred with those thoughts.

And more than duty. When Lia had come downstairs tonight, he’d felt the same shot of lust he’d experienced in his room in Palermo. The same hard knot of desire had coiled inside his gut and refused to let go.

He bent toward her, breathed in her scent. “What is your perfume, Lia?” he asked, his breath against her ear. A shudder rolled through her. He could feel it in his fingertips where they pressed into her back and throat.

“It’s my own,” she said, her voice husky. “I went to a perfumer in the village. She made it for me.”

Zach breathed again. “Vanilla. A hint of lavender. Perhaps even a shot of lemon. For tartness,” he finished.

“I—I don’t know,” she said quickly. “I didn’t ask.”

Zach couldn’t stop himself from what he did next. He touched his tongue to her throat, glided to the sweet spot beneath her ear. The sound that came out of her made him hard.

Her hands were on his lapels, clutching him. “Zach, stop …”

“Do you really want me to?” he said against her sweet flesh.

She shuddered again, and he reacted with animal instinct, pushing her into an alcove where they were hidden from prying eyes. Unless someone was standing right in front of the opening, they would not be visible from down the corridor.