Bold (13 page)

Shaking his head, he lowered his hand. “We both knew going into this it would have an end date. And for some reason, after that sensational night together, you were in a funk. But I’ve decided to stay longer, give us some time together.”

Chantal hated how her traitorous heart leapt. But this didn’t change a thing. It couldn’t.

“Don’t you mean you’re staying around for your dad? Your brothers?”

“No. This time I’m staying around for you.” He didn’t break eye contact as he took a step closer. “Going out on a limb here, but I’ve never felt like this about any woman and I want to explore it further. See how far we can go.”

Damn him. Chantal swallowed, trying to ease the sudden tightness in her throat. “For a week? A month?”

“How about you forget the timeline and concentrate on us?”

Us
.

Conjured up instant images of the two of them together, images she’d daydreamed about. Cozy evenings in her apartment. Weekends spent in bed. Day trips to the Grand Canyon and Hoover Dam. Dinner dates. Long lunches. Hurried breakfasts because they’d devoured each other at dawn. Chantal could see it so clearly. She could have it all.

But at what cost?

She’d end up with a broken heart when Zane left—as he eventually would—and she’d damage his burgeoning relationship with his father in the process. She couldn’t be that selfish, no matter how much she wanted Zane, for however long.

Hating that she’d have to push him away again, Chantal gnawed on her bottom lip, mentally searching for the right words and coming up with nothing but ‘I want you too’.

“Do you have any idea how crazy I am for you?” Before she could react, he had his arms around her, pinned against the desk, his lips on hers. Demanding. Commanding. Persuasive beyond belief.

She resisted for all of a second before she surged against him, craving full body contact, her nerve-endings zinging.

There was no finesse in their kiss. No seduction. It was pure, mindless desperation. She barely registered the sound of him unzipping, the tearing of a foil packet, before he had her skirt up and her thong down.

She groaned into his mouth when he plunged into her, so deep her toes lifted off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his waist and clung to him as he ravaged her mouth and drove her to the brink so fast she was dizzy.

God, she loved having him inside her, loved going at it hard and fast. Without thought of consequences. Without thought of the future.

She came in a burst of light behind her eyes that made her squeeze them shut, her body ablaze as he followed her over the brink with a long, low groan that raised the hairs on the back of her neck.

They weren’t just good together. They were phenomenal.
Best sex of her life. With a guy she craved beyond the physical.

How the hell could she walk away from this?

Thirty minutes later, Zane paced Chantal’s conference room, wishing he hadn’t agreed to this.

She’d made him promise to stay put while she took care of a few things but with every passing moment, he wondered if she was coming back.

He’d wanted to take her back to his hotel but considering what had happened in her office, he thought they had less chance of having a proper conversation in his suite than here.

Damn, he’d blown it. He’d had it all planned out: lay out his hopes for them, hear her out, try to convince her of why they should be together for however long he was in town.

Fast and furious sex on her desk hadn’t been on the agenda.

Not that it hadn’t been good. Fuck, it had been stupendous. They connected in a way that defied belief and he got hard just thinking about it.

But he was through letting his dick do the thinking for him. It was what had gotten him into trouble the last three years, when he’d deliberately shut off his brain and focused on obliterating the empty feeling that discovering Christopher had abandoned him elicited.

Time to man up. And that meant doing what he should’ve done this morning. Tell Christopher he and Chantal were dating and that if he didn’t accept her, they didn’t have a chance in hell of developing a father-son relationship.

He hadn’t wanted it to come to this. But walking into Chantal’s office, seeing her so defiant yet so vulnerable, had rammed home how much she meant to him.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d bet he was in love for the first time. The kicker? He wasn’t so terrified anymore.

He’d make this work. Consider rearranging his future to fit in with her. Hell, he might even move to Vegas if that’s what she wanted.

Because right now, he couldn’t envisage a life without Chantal in it.

The door opened and she strode in, her confident steps at odds with her appearance. She’d showered and changed. Gone were the pink power suit, up-do and make-up. Instead, she’d scrubbed her face clean, had her hair pulled back in a damp ponytail and wore black yoga pants and a grey T-shirt.

She looked younger, sweeter, innocent, and his heart contracted when she locked eyes on him. In that moment, he saw every conflicted feeling: yearning, hope, regret, sorrow. She wanted a relationship but for some reason she didn’t think she deserved it.

He held up a hand. “Before you say a word, I need you to listen.” Taking the biggest gamble of his life, he blurted, “I love you. I don’t want to lose you. So whatever it takes for you to understand that, I’ll do it.”

She came to a dead halt, her eyes widening as her lower lip wobbled.

Damn, she was going to cry.

“Don’t,” he said, crossing the room quickly to bundle her into his arms. Squeezing his eyes shut to stop the dampness that listening to her sobs brought on.

Helpless, he smoothed her hair, stroked her back, held her tight. Waited until she relaxed in his arms, finally quiet.

Only then did he loosen his hold and when she raised her tear-stained face to stare at him, her expression a heartrending mix of solemn and wonder, he almost lost it.

“You can’t love me,” she said, and damned if her lower lip didn’t wobble again.

“Too bad, because I do,” he said, clearing his throat to ease the gruffness. “So let’s figure out what we’re doing before you have me blubbering like a baby.”

Her lips twitched into a glimmer of smile. “Big, tough footballers don’t cry.”

“Oh yeah? Try me.” He tweaked her nose, pleased to see her smile widen.

“We’re really having this conversation?”

“Damn straight.” He guided her into the nearest chair and sat next to her, holding onto her hands for dear life. “At the risk of sounding like an egotistical prick, I think you’re crazy about me too, so why won’t you give us a go?”

Her smile faded as she stared at some point over his right shoulder. “Because relationships are hard and I don’t want to start something we can’t finish.”

There was more. She still couldn’t meet his eyes.

So he pushed harder. “You’re one of the most confident women I’ve ever met. So I don’t buy the chicken-shit act. Something else is going on and I want to know what it is.”

That got her attention as her wary gaze flew to his. “I don’t want to put you in a difficult position.” She shook her head, her ponytail whipping side to side. “Your priority right now should be your family…” She trailed off, as if reluctant to say more, and she resumed staring at something over his shoulder.

“This is about my father, isn’t it?”

Her lips compressed but he saw the flare of awareness in her eyes.

“He rang me this morning. Offered me a job in his company.”

The tension around her mouth eased as she eyeballed him again. “That’s great. I’m really happy for you.”

“Then he said a whole lot of judgmental crap about you and I basically hung up on him.”

She frowned. “You shouldn’t do that. He’s your dad and—”

“And he’s a bigoted old fool.” He squeezed her hands. “Don’t you get it? I may have come to the States to meet my family but that’s not why I’m staying.” He scooted closer, securing her knees between his. “You are. I choose
you
. And nothing he says or does will change my mind.”

“He pulled out of the sponsorship because of me,” she said, her voice low and shaky. “Must hate me a lot to give up a business deal like that.”

“Who gives a shit? His loss.” He raised her hands to his mouth, kissed the back of both. “I’m hanging in the wind here, babe. I pour my heart out and you still haven’t given me an answer.”

She wanted to say yes. He could see it, her eyes shining with hope. Or maybe that was his wishful thinking, because when she blinked, it was like that spark had never been there at all.

“Give me some time to think about it.”

Zane knew what would happen. Chantal would mull and ponder at length, maybe even bounce off a girlfriend or two, before outlining every logical reason why they shouldn’t be together.

Screw that.

He didn’t get where he was in his career by taking a back seat and accepting indecision. He made things happen. He executed perfect game plans. He kicked the impossible goals. He held the premiership cup aloft three times.

Simply, he didn’t give up.

“No.” He released her hands, pushed back to give her space. “You don’t need to think with this.” He pointed to her head. “You need to feel with this.” He clasped his chest over his heart. “This isn’t rocket science, sweetheart. You either love me or you don’t. It’s that simple. And all the analyzing in the world won’t help you make a decision that is a no-brainer for me and should be for you too if you feel the same way.”

She stared at him, stricken, her silence not instilling him with confidence.

Fuck, he couldn’t handle it if she said no. “Is that your answer then?”

After a few silent seconds that felt like an eternity, Zane knew he’d gambled and lost.

When she finally spoke, it was so softly he wondered if he’d imagined it.

“I’m afraid.” Her hands fluttered helplessly over her outfit. “This is the real me. No frills. Stripped bare. I’m not confident or ballsy or bold. I’m a woman terrified that a guy like you won’t love me enough when you see the real me, or you’ll get bored and stray, or you’ll leave anyway.” She huffed out a long breath. “I can’t handle that kind of pain. I saw what it did to my mom and it killed her.” Her head snapped up, a glint of her old defiance shining through. “I can’t be that woman. I won’t.”

Buoyed by her honesty, Zane knelt in front of her, rested his forearms on her knees. “There are no guarantees in life but I promise you this, sweetheart. I won’t run when the going gets tough. I want to see you, all of you, not the front you present to the world. And I’m no cheater. I don’t know what happened with your folks, but I’m not like that. I want to love you for as long as you’ll let me.” Forever, if he had his way. “Can’t you trust me enough to take a chance?”

The sheen in her eyes alerted him to more waterworks but this time, as tears trickled down her cheeks, she actually smiled.

“You’re very persistent.”

“I am when what I’m fighting for is worth it,” he said, surging to his feet and pulling her up. “You’re it for me, Chantal Kramer. The woman I love. So what do you say?”

This time, her momentary hesitation was tempered with a radiant smile. “I love you, too.”

She kissed him to prove it.

A kiss to seal their love.

A kiss filled with promises and hope.

A kiss to build a future on.

Two days later, Chantal hosted her monthly cocktail party in the small function room at Burlesque Bombshells. She plied her employees with exquisite food and top-shelf alcohol to thank them for their loyalty. Everyone came, from the dancers to the bar staff, as a way of blowing off steam. They danced into the wee small hours to legendary eighties tracks and crawled home nursing hangovers. Nobody cared, because in four weeks time they’d be doing it all again.

Chantal valued her workers. Alongside her friends, they were her family. With her biological dad in New York, her mom dead and her step-dad swanning through Europe with wife number four, she was pretty much alone.

Not anymore.

“Need a top up?” Zane held a champagne bottle above her glass and she nodded, amazed anew that this incredible guy was in love with her.

“You trying to get me drunk?”

“Nah,” he said, with a wink. “I can take advantage of you regardless.”

She pinched his too-sexy-for-words ass. “The feeling’s mutual, sweet cheeks.”

He groaned. “Did you just call me sweet cheeks?”

“If the description fits.” This time, she patted his ass, and he dodged with a laugh.

“You’re insatiable.” He wiped his brow in mock exhaustion. “You’re going to wear me out.”

“That’s BS and you know it.” Chantal pouted and blew him a kiss. “Now that you’ve retired, you need to redirect that impressive stamina elsewhere.”

His eyes darkened and she knew he was remembering exactly how they’d spent the last few days holed up in his hotel suite putting that stamina to the test.

“How early can we ditch this party?”

She laughed. “Your brothers haven’t arrived yet. Don’t you want to at least say hello?”

“Those bozos can cope without me,” he said, his gaze drawn to the door, and Chantal wondered if he was still nervous.

Tonight would be the first official meeting between Wyatt and Steele. Wyatt had been called away on an emergency IT project in New Orleans and had only flown in an hour ago.

As for Steele, Chantal hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting him yet, considering Zane had kept her in his bed for the last forty-eight hours. She’d overheard a few phone conversations between Zane and Steele, their closeness evident in the typical male sniping and teasing.

One thing she had observed during those phone conversations was the way Zane lit up when he spoke to his brother. He looked happy and she envied him that sibling bond. As for his American family, things may not be sweet with his father, but Wyatt obviously wanted to make an effort and apparently Kurt could be flying in by the weekend.