CHAPTER THREE
J UST AFTER LUNCHTIME , Skylar boarded the crowded bus, hardly about to spend any of her savings by charting a helicopter like the other party guests would. Most of them didn’t have to earn their own money. She used the hours to get on top of the work she’d not got to this morning. But as the bus neared her destination, her heart grew heavy. She hadn’t been home since her father had passed unexpectedly two years ago. She’d packed up their old little apartment and not looked back. She’d just kept her head down at Helberg, knowing how proud her father had been of her achievements. Loyalty was everything—he’d drilled that into her over and over and she still felt the need to repay that debt. So she wasn’t going to let Zane tear her company apart like it was nothing. Her colleagues were her family and they were stressed enough in the face of a difficult retail climate. But she’d seen Zane’s stone-cold centre and she had to know his plans for sure.
‘Wow.’ Danielle greeted her with a wide smile and a huge hug. ‘You look amazing.’
Yeah, her make-up, dress and shoes weren’t exactly her usual sedate style. She’d had limited options, what with almost every store closed for the holiday. Having to wear white but not wanting to look bridal meant she’d had to take the silk dress that skimmed her figure a touch too close, plus had a high split to the side of the long skirt.
‘And you’re still rocking that high ponytail.’ Danielle winked as she handed Skylar a cocktail.
Yeah, long hair tied up was still her thing. It wasn’t exactly deliberate. She just never took the time off to get to the hairdressers often and it was easier to keep the length out of her face by either braid or ponytail.
Squaring her shoulders, she sallied forth into the party. She could do this.
Within ten minutes, she knew she’d made a mistake. There were too many people. While she could hold her own in a work meeting, this sort of socialising didn’t come naturally. Attending that private school should have helped but in fact had only made her reticence worse. Her father had taught her that trust took a long time to build and was easily destroyed. She had to be careful. Maintaining relationships took a lot of effort, so she had few. Her work was her constant focus, which was why she’d do anything to save it—even engage with the destroyer himself. But as time ticked by, he didn’t show and her discomfort increased.
Seeking space, she stepped outside. The lush green lawns leading to the beach were immaculately groomed and she wistfully thought of her father, who’d have been spotting the rare patch that needed work. She walked along the thick hedgerow that formed the side boundary to another palatial holiday home next door. There was a gap along the row and she turned into it, following the path before stopping, surprised to discover a secret garden before her—a rectangular space filled with mature fruit trees, a couple of sun loungers placed in their shade. Completely hidden from view of the houses, the stunning little sanctuary had obviously been here for decades.
She inhaled deep and relaxed properly for the first time in days. Tossing her small bag on the nearest lounger, she strolled beneath the shade of the pretty fruit trees, holding her long ponytail up high so she could feel the slight breeze on her back.
‘What are you doing?’ a low drawl sounded right behind her.
She spun, dropping her arm. ‘What—’
She jerked to a halt, her hair pulling hard as she tried to step back. It took a blink before she realised her ponytail had caught on the low-slung branch above as she’d turned. Now she tried to shake it free with a nonchalant jerk of her head. She failed.
Ridiculous .
He was staring at her wide-eyed. Him —breaker of hearts, destroyer of moods, thief of peace. Zane deMarco himself.
‘Now look what you...’ She trailed off, mortified as she reached up blindly and tried to detangle the long strands caught above her.
Of all the people to startle her into a completely humiliating position... All she could hope now was that he’d not recognise her. The odds had to be in her favour given it had been years since the last time they’d crossed paths, and right now she was out of context, what with her heavy make-up and a slinkier-than-usual dress and please, please, please let him be so sated with so many women they’d all merged into one and he’d never remember the girl he’d once kissed in a cold stairwell early on a Saturday morning...
‘You know the cherries aren’t anywhere near ripe.’ He stood three feet away, taking her in with a sweeping, sardonic gaze that went from her tangled hair to her silver-sandaled feet.
His attention made her very aware of her vulnerability—her raised arms made her dress cling even more to parts of her figure. Parts that all of a sudden tightened with pure chemical awareness. She dropped her hands to her sides with a slap and glared at him.
‘What are you doing out here?’ he repeated softly. ‘Were you trying to find me?’
‘Of course not,’ she snapped. Even though she was here to do exactly that, it was still so arrogant of him to assume. ‘I had no idea anyone was out here. I was just—’ She broke off as she realised he was still looking her over in that slow, deliberate way, and it felt too intimate . Suddenly it didn’t matter what she was doing or why she was here; she just needed to escape. ASAP. ‘Are you going to help me or just stand there being entertained by my suffering?’
He moved closer. The light stubble on his jaw didn’t mask the honed angles beneath and while his mouth was curved in an annoying smirk, his pale blue eyes gleamed with rapier-sharp scrutiny.
Skylar could meet that intense gaze for only so long before she had to lower her lashes. He was wearing black tailored trousers and a white dress shirt, which was unbuttoned at both the collar and sleeves. Indeed, those sleeves were rolled back, revealing strong, sinewy forearms. She gritted her teeth but still her traitorous pulse skipped every other beat as she remembered the strength in his arms. He was a jerk but her stupid body didn’t seem to care. It was almost a decade ago, for heaven’s sake. It was not yesterday.
‘You’re actually, seriously caught?’ he asked sceptically.
‘Obviously, or I’d have run away the second you appeared,’ she muttered.
‘Really?’ He looked arrogantly disbelieving.
‘Yes, really.’
‘And somehow it’s all my fault?’ he murmured.
Quite. She’d seriously underestimated the impact of seeing him again, and now here she was— stuck —but feeling that same insanity she’d felt every time she’d been in his presence. Her tongue was tied, her mind was mince and prickly heat spread across her skin.
Summon anger .
Unfortunately, anger didn’t show up. She simply stared into his striking eyes while thoughts of fallen angels and devilish temptations flitted in and out of her scattered brain. Seconds became centuries. Everything slowed as deep inside something fizzed, bubbling higher and higher and hotter and hotter. She had to be ill. Surely. Sudden onset of a strange virus.
‘Are you going to help me?’ She eventually croaked out another request, because all he seemed to be doing was staring right back at her and standing as still as she was.
‘I’m working out the best strategy to extract you from this disaster.’
‘I thought you were meant to be a genius.’
His pale blue eyes lit and that was almost the end of her—spontaneous combustion imminent. She closed her eyes. She couldn’t be feeling this. Nope. Not over Zane. Not again. She was not sixteen and full of impossible fantasy now.
She knew him—remember? She knew how cold he really was inside. How quickly, how easily he could walk away. He did not care about anything or anyone—
She dragged in a breath but was further intoxicated by the subtle scents of salt and musk and something a touch rougher. Whisky. Every sense ignited. Desperately she stood stock-still, held her breath and kept her eyes screwed shut.
‘Skylar?’ he murmured huskily. ‘You still with me?’
Oh, hell . Her eyes flashed open. So did her jaw. Of course her hope that he wouldn’t remember her would be futile. He probably had one of those eidetic memories with every minuscule detail of his life stored inside his annoyingly intelligent brain.
‘What, did you think I didn’t recognise you?’ His eyes widened—almost revealing pique. ‘Of course I recognised you...’
He raked his gaze down her yet again, taking in the delicate ribbon straps at the base of her neck. The halter-neck style meant she was unable to wear a bra beneath it—though to be fair she didn’t really need a bra. But as his gaze swept down her, she felt her breasts respond again as if his glance were actually a stroke. Infuriated with herself, she willed her gaze to be more of a slap back. But when he lifted his focus back to her eyes, his smile merely widened from smirk to blindingly gorgeous.
‘Just as you recognise me,’ he added.
Well duh, of course she did. He was currently wallpapering the internet—one billionaire catch of the day. But okay, yes, it was because she’d spent most of her adult life trying to forget him.
Such things were impossible.
‘We lived in the same apartment complex as kids,’ he said conversationally as he stepped closer.
She struggled to retain her composure, glad he’d opted for that detail, not the fact they’d once been smashed together, frantically kissing against the wall of said apartment complex. Maybe he’d forgotten that had even happened. She could only hope. ‘That’s a long time ago now.’
He nodded and reached above her head. ‘It doesn’t exist any more.’
She took a quick, sharp breath. She’d not been back to their village since her father had passed. She hadn’t known the building had been demolished. ‘A lot has changed.’
‘A lot certainly has,’ he agreed with that mocking edge.
He’d been handsome then and he was stunning now. It was severely unfair for one person to get everything—extreme brains and extreme beauty. And she was just like every other woman who came close to him—unable to resist drinking in the sight of his sleek, fit body as he ran his fingers along the length of her hair, trying to smooth it free from the branch. She quelled her shiver but now her pulse thundered. This was way too intimate.
‘Your ponytail is very long,’ he said. ‘Is it all your own?’
‘What?’ She jerked and her hair tightened again. ‘Of course it’s mine.’
He laughed beneath his breath. Her mood sharpened. Retaliation was required.
‘I’ve thought you’d manage this more quickly,’ she murmured saltily. ‘Given you’re supposed to be good with your hands.’
He stilled, mere millimetres away from her. Skylar took a second to replay what she’d just said and realised how stupid it was. How incendiary. How easily it would be interpreted as a tragic attempt at flirtation. But before she could backpedal he leaned closer still and resumed his effort to detangle her.
‘Oh, I’m very good with my hands,’ he drawled softly right near her ear. ‘And slow is better, don’t you agree?’
No, she did not agree. Because the century-length seconds had slowed even more and she wasn’t coping.
‘Oh, yeah,’ he muttered into the thickened silence. ‘I should have remembered that you prefer things fast...’
She couldn’t reply and he bent to look into her face. There was that mockery in his eyes, but there was heat too—heat that made that fizzing inside even more intense. If she were normal, she’d laugh this off with some flippant comment. But she wasn’t normal. She couldn’t think of anything flippant. She couldn’t think of anything at all except—
‘Just hurry up and finish,’ she whispered, unable to believe what both her brain and body wanted.
‘Wow,’ he breathed back. ‘There’s a first.’
She clenched her fists and battled to hold herself back. ‘You’re not used to your attentions being unwanted?’
His smile of disbelief spread wider. ‘But you’re the one who asked me to help,’ he pointed out. ‘I’m being gentlemanly here, rescuing you from the evil clutches of a cherry tree.’
She couldn’t laugh. Quicksilver, not blood, flowed in her veins. Handsome in pictures, devastating in the flesh, Zane deMarco embodied sensual vitality, and every breath, every glance, every moment basking in his attention sent Skylar further along the path towards total brainlessness.
His dilating pupils were the only movement he made. ‘It really bothers you that I’m this close?’
Dynamite, meet detonator. His mere proximity provided the shock wave to ignite something within her that had long been—well—dead. He wasn’t just hard to handle, he was impossible to ignore, and unfathomably that ancient crush just...resurged. Even when she knew what a callous lump of a heart he had, her body didn’t care. Her body simply sizzled.
He suddenly moved. She felt loosening at her scalp and his fingers finally ran the full length of her hair and when they hit the end her ponytail fell back to rest against the bared skin of her back.
‘There you go—free of me at last. Quick, get away while you can,’ he jeered huskily. Bitterness glittered in his eyes. ‘There’s no one here to rescue you this time. You’d better run inside for safety.’
That was what she’d done almost a decade ago. Run inside and shut the curtains and not peeked out.
But she still couldn’t move. She watched that flicker in his eyes and the sardonic curve of his full lips and decided she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of running scared. Because when she’d run all those years ago it hadn’t been from him.
In truth, right now she was more scared of herself. But she’d come here for information, and while this was hardly the ideal interaction, at least she’d made contact. And suddenly there was an imp within that simply spoke for her.
‘Oh, no.’ She flicked her hand through her hair and the swish of her ponytail basically hit him in the nose. ‘I’m not going anywhere. That would be far too easy for you.’
‘You’re here to make things hard for me?’ Zane jammed his tingling hands into his pockets. He was hard already in a shockingly instant reaction to this unexpected encounter. He hadn’t been going to bother with Danielle’s party. He’d flown up later than intended and been late to cut across the garden, and as he had he’d glimpsed a nymph in the orchard and investigated only to find—
Skylar Bennet .
Hers was a face from the past that he preferred to keep well behind him, and he’d certainly not expected to see her here and looking like this. Not all glossy hair, glossy lips, glossy dress...not the perfectly polite, dutifully docile, completely irritating swot he knew Skylar was.
So he could do nothing but stare. The white silk clung to her slender curves, and a high split in the skirt teased flashes of skin while a thin ribbon at her neck secured the dress. He wanted to tug on the ends and watch it all slip from her silky-looking skin. He wanted to see the secrets beneath. He wanted to free her hair and feel it trail and tease his skin—and all but whip him in the face again.
Of course, the truth was he’d wanted all that since he’d been eighteen and guiltily watching her comb her hair at her window across the courtyard and up one floor from his. And he’d not been allowed then, had he? Her father had informed him he’d never, ever be good enough for her. And yeah, he certainly wouldn’t be good enough in that man’s eyes now.
Only now here she was in front of him again. He’d not expected her to be so tartly defensive. She’d verbally lashed him like a little wild creature caught in the bushes. Except she wasn’t so little. Not in the good places. He’d reacted. So had she. Sexual tension had taken command of them both.
‘Maybe I am,’ she huskily countered.
Sexual tension was definitely still in charge. His muscles bunched as he watched the tilt of her chin and the antagonism build in her eyes.
She’d grown up in that third-floor apartment opposite his. A pretty, petite brunette with the biggest brown eyes he’d ever seen. He’d struggled with his own issues back then—all that time it had taken to heal after the accident, the risky moves he’d been making with his online trading platform, desperately trying to make money to get out of there, but she’d been a constant in the background. A fellow battler on the block. Another only child of a solo parent. She’d been better than him though—she’d been good . She’d been so intensely focused on her studies she’d won one of Reed Helberg’s prestigious scholarships.
And she’d gone.
But the shy, pretty girl he’d occasionally seen had come back from her fancy new boarding school for the holidays and somehow been completely different. She’d sat on her balcony in the shade and studied all damned day, only moving to make her father meals or fetch his drinks when he returned from work. The only time Zane saw her leave that apartment was to go for a morning run. A new routine. He’d seen her smile and heard her soft laughter as she’d chatted to her father. They’d seemed close. And Zane had been so smitten, he’d loitered in the courtyard at her run time like a lovesick fool. And one morning, for just a few stolen moments, he’d tasted her.
Before she’d turned her back and betrayed him.
He’d not seen her again before she’d gone back to school and then he’d left town. They’d been at that stupid dinner at his old school where he’d been guest speaker a couple years later. He’d been flattered by the invite and had said yes. He’d not made that mistake again. Reed Helberg had been there and Skylar had been so perfect and polite. She’d not even looked at Zane; everything had been about Reed. He’d been infuriated—because of her desperation to please, right? She’d won what he’d been denied but his irritation hadn’t been because of that. He’d hated that demure demeanour—that her docility was so underpinned by anxiety. Wide-eyed and terrified by the supposed importance of the old man who’d dominated the dinner conversation. Those stupid scholarships might supposedly be life-changing, but in Zane’s opinion, the price paid by the winner was too high. It was all so wretchedly controlling .
But now Skylar Bennet was entirely grown-up and all alone and apparently here to make things hard for him. Well, she’d succeeded.
‘So you did come here to see me,’ he said, feeling visceral pleasure at the thought.
She stared at him—basically breathing fire. His recklessness surged as he watched the enmity battle the interest burgeoning in her deep brown eyes. He wanted to turn that gleam into sleepy satisfaction. He lost track of everything else. Where he was going. Why. What he was meant to do and not do...none of it mattered. Because he could see only her and right now he wanted nothing but her.
That old desire slammed back into him. He’d wanted her so much back then—with all the ardour of inexperience and youth. She’d been tantalisingly close, yet so out of bounds. Maybe that was why it was back so fiercely now. She’d been his first crush—wholly forbidden fruit.
‘You don’t usually come to this party.’ His throat tightened. He’d liked touching her hair. It was long, silky, fragrant, and he battled the sharp urge to release it from that tight band now.
She stiffened as he stepped closer.
He suppressed his smile with difficulty. It was harder to suppress everything around her. ‘You still don’t party much? Ever the hard worker, Skylar?’
She was quiet and dutiful while he wasn’t. Maybe it was the simple, strong magnetism of polar opposites, because she couldn’t seem to take a step from him. Nor could he from her. The defiance in her brown eyes deepened.
‘You’ve not bothered to pay attention to the dress code, I see,’ she said coolly. ‘At least I’ve made the effort to do as asked.’
‘Of course you have,’ he murmured insolently. ‘I bet you always do as you’re asked...’ He couldn’t resist stepping closer. ‘Like a good girl.’
Her eyes narrowed.
‘You always were so obedient ,’ he growled, scrambling to stop the racing thoughts rising from his own damned words. ‘ Such a pleaser.’
God, he wanted her to please him. And he wouldn’t just please her back. He’d destroy her.
Because all those years ago she’d gone up in flames in his arms. He’d almost lost his footing she’d been so passionate—she’d wanted him every bit as much as he’d wanted her. But she’d not defended him when her father had thought the worst of him. How she’d silently abandoned him as they’d faced her father’s wrath and rejection. He couldn’t forgive her for that. But nor could he forget that she’d been the one rubbing against him in the most arousing of ways. She’d been the one moaning. She’d been the one shaking. It had taken every ounce of his utterly limited experience back then to try to slow them down. Because it had been a conflagration. And he was so close to every brain cell burning up again now.
‘While you’re a taker,’ she replied tartly.
He smiled wolfishly, enjoying her attack. ‘You think?’ Spreading his hands wide in innocence, he shot her a look. ‘But tell me, how can I wear all white when I’m prone to getting a little dirty?’
Her eyes widened and twin spots of colour deepened in her cheeks. He was unrepentant. She was the one who’d started this—even if that earlier innuendo had been unintentional. But they had chemistry and it wouldn’t be curbed. Zane was all for fireworks now they were adults. Fireworks were fun.
‘Or maybe it’s just that you think the rules don’t apply to you,’ she said.
‘Rules?’ He faux shivered, as if she’d raised a horrifying spectre.
His little nemesis rolled her eyes. ‘You won’t ever do what others ask of you,’ she said with soft precision. ‘You’re too arrogant.’
Every rule jumped out the window.
‘You think?’ he breathed. ‘Why don’t you find out for yourself?’ He was a millimetre from her pretty face, willing her to take what he was really offering. ‘Go on, Skylar. Ask me anything. I dare you .’