Finding Zoe (Atlantic Divide) (15 page)

Smooth and creamy, her skin was pale and ethereal against the deep, rich teal of the gown. Her hair tumbled gloriously from the diamond clip he had chosen, to brush teasingly over the top of her naked shoulders.

Her eyes glowed, almost unnaturally, in the golden light of the late afternoon sun as it filtered through the nearby window. Her darkened lips smiled with a warm, womanly invitation.

There wasn’t a word in his vacuous head he could think of to compliment her enough. He knew beyond a doubt this picture of her would remain in his mind until his dying day.

His eyes met her clear, sparkling green ones and he couldn’t help his own smile spreading wide across his face.

Now. Now was the right moment. Now he would ask.

“Not too shabby.”

The moment was gone as she threw back her head and laughed at her son’s understatement of the year.

“Not too shabby yourself, sweetie.”

The kid strutted into the room, cocky and arrogant in his dinner suit, and the swell of pride Mac had felt when he saw the kid’s mother never diminished when he cast his eyes over their son.

Ryan’s thick, black hair had been cut short around his ears, spiked on top, and it spilled over onto his forehead in the same style as Mac’s. He struck a pose. Side on, chin raised, skinny chest puffed out with one hand resting over his heart in an exact imitation of a poster Mac had featured on for his upcoming film. It was too close to be comfortable. Weirdly, the kid would have looked good with face stubble.

Flynn leaned against the doorjamb, flint eyes assessing as he traced a leisurely path up the length of Zoe. Mac felt a guttural, possessive reaction as he ground his teeth and flexed his jaw.

“You look lovely, Zoe. Truly lovely.”

As the words Mac should have spoken came from Flynn’s mouth, she smiled graciously and dipped her head.

“Thank you.”

Mac felt a raging desire to get Flynn in a headlock and do him some damage.

“Are we ready?” Flynn patted his jacket pocket where Mac knew he wore a concealed weapon. The man was his bodyguard tonight. Perhaps Mac shouldn’t blacken his eye.

“Sure. Would you take grunt here down to the lobby”—he nodded at the kid, who grinned infectiously, showing yet another gap in his gum line—“and I’ll escort Zoe down in just a minute.”

Determined to get at least one moment alone with her, he met Flynn’s eyes with a steady look and waited for the barely discernible nod.

“Come on, kid.”

The moment they were alone, the silence stretched out around them as he delved for the right thing to say. She would know if he used anything from one of his films, and yet nothing but a scripted word seemed good enough to use.

“You’re beautiful.”

Kicking himself wasn’t the solution, but he had no other words, and the small, puzzled frown on her brow made him rush on.

“Zoe, I…I…”

“Sorry, did you…?”

And as they both stumbled over each other’s words, the spell broke and she laughed, moved toward him, and turned a full, slow circle for him to admire her outfit.

“Thank you, Mac. I have never seen such a stunning dress in all my life.”

Sucking in a breath of oxygen, he let it out on a sigh again and moved into her path.

“I have something to go with it.”

“Oh?”

Blood pounding in his ears, he fumbled the first attempt at retrieving the long, slender box from his jacket pocket. The second time he managed, feeling stupid. His fingers shook as he flicked open the lid and stared at her face, desperate to see her reaction.

Eyes wide, lips parted with a surprised gasp, her hand came up to her throat and touched her wildly blushing skin. Her fingers started to reach out and then fluttered back to her neck as her confused eyes met his.

“Are they diamonds?”

He’d gone for simple. Twenty-two individual diamonds, each two carats, linked together with platinum to form an elegant, understated choker of indescribable value. He lifted the heavy choker, placed the box to one side, and came in close.

Her eyes had glazed over and pleasure shifted through him as he watched each emotion flit across her features.

“Mac.” She shook her head, stepped back in denial, and had his heart hammering with pride as she tried to refuse them.

“Zoe, let me see.” He reached out and linked them around her neck, enjoyed the utter speechlessness as she raised her fingers to her throat once again, touched the diamonds, her eyes never leaving his face.

“Are they for me?”

“No, I bought them for the kid, but he wasn’t keen.”

She spluttered out a laugh.

“Oh, Mac. You shouldn’t have. I can’t believe it. They’re beautiful.” She laughed again and peered in the mirror above the fireplace at herself. She twirled and almost threw herself in his arms.

He even moved to catch her, but she stopped herself and held up her hands.

“Whoops. Better not. We’ll have to send for makeup.”

He grinned, delighted.

“They’d have my ass.”

He held out his arm so she could slide her hand in the crook of it and was surprised when her hand shot past and patted his backside, resting there a moment before giving it a firm squeeze.

“I might just have your ass myself later.” She gave a naughty grin and had his pulse soaring. Heat flashed as he watched her blow him a playful kiss. He huffed out a quick breath, tucked her hand firmly into the crook of his arm, and marched out the door with her before he was tempted to muss up her hair and makeup anyway.

* * * *

Lights flashed with blinding ferocity as the door to the limousine was opened by an unseen hand. The red carpet was far longer and wider than she had realized from watching television footage of movie premieres.

As Mac’s shoulders filled the doorway, she blinked and saw the lights flash under her eyelids again, purples and blues instead of white. Ryan squeezed her hand hard, and she glanced over at him. He looked like a rabbit caught in headlights. The breath stuck in the back of her throat and came out as a hysterical hiccup at the same time as she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and mustered up a wobbly smile. Hardly the confident woman she had seen staring at herself in the mirror barely an hour ago.

She couldn’t remember why she had thought this was such a fantastic idea when Mac had invited them. Ryan had been delirious with excitement, and she had been overwhelmed and flattered he would even consider inviting them. When she’d been instructed to turn up two days early and was told everything would be provided, including outfits for them both, she had never stopped to think of the implication.

It had never occurred to her she would be exposing Ryan to the limelight, the paparazzi; the world. She had no idea what had possessed her to agree to come here with her son, who should have been at home, protected, insulated, and hidden.

The full impact of what they were doing crashed into her with the force of a sledgehammer, and as Mac turned and held out his hand to assist her out of the limo, her eyes met his and she knew with absolute certainty he understood, had even invited, what was just about to happen.

She raised her hand, had her fingers engulfed by his, and studied his face, noting the slight strain around his eyes, the tension along his jawline, and the tightness of his mouth.

She looked back at Ryan and smiled, more confidently this time as she saw a similar expression as his father’s on his face. Finding the temptation too much, she took a moment to run the back of her fingers over his soft, downy cheek. He was ready.

The timing was right.

Her son was about to make his debut into the world of showbiz and she nodded, smiled at Mac encouragingly, and gave her approval.

“Mac.” she whispered.

“Shh, you don’t want to wake the kid. Or his nursemaid.” He sniggered.

She tripped, a little unsteady on her feet, and he caught her, placing a hand under her arm to guide her, hoping like hell she was going to head for his room. She stopped in the middle of the lounge, turned, and flung her arms sloppily around his neck.

“I think I had a little too much champagne.” She smashed her mouth against his, giggled and withdrew, looking at him through unfocused eyes. “I love you.” His heart gave a sudden painful lurch as she smiled tipsily into his face. Her fingers came up to touch his mouth, miscalculated the distance, and slewed across them, twisting his lips. “I really love you.”

Unable to resist, he smoothed a silken lock back from her forehead and felt his heart wrench as the curl entwined itself around his finger and clung. He gazed hungrily into her dizzy eyes and felt hope surface as she blinked back up at him, long and languid.

Her lips touched his, gentle now, more controlled, her voice dipped low and sensual. “I’ve always loved you.” She smiled up at him, kissed the corner of his mouth as he held still and closed his eyes, hoping like hell it wasn’t a dream.

“Mac. Let’s go to bed.”

Holy shit, it wasn’t a dream. He crushed her to him, simply held on tight. His arms wrapped around her body, clinging.

“Mac, you’re squeezing too hard.” His arms sprung open; he grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her, as she snickered, through the lounge, down the dimly lit hallway, and into his super deluxe king-size bedroom. And stopped.

“Zoe, you’ve had a little too much to drink…”

“I know what I’m doing; I haven’t had too much. Now strip, my handsome superhero!”

“I’m an action hero.” He heaved a sigh and watched as her wicked eyes met his, crinkled at the corners as her lips curved up.

“I know.” She reached forward and unbuttoned his shirt, spreading it wide across his chest so she could run her long, cool fingers over his twitching muscles and down his stomach, sending those muscles into spasm as she pressed her thumbs into the contours of his flesh just above his hip bones.

His breath came deep and rhythmic as he held himself back, letting her take the lead.

“Superheroes always lose the girl in the end.” She placed a quick nip on his neck. “She leaves”—farther down on his shoulder—“or she gets killed.” She pressed her face to his breast, laved his nipple with her tongue, igniting a spark in his belly that threatened to bring him to his knees. She scraped lightly with her teeth and smiled up at him. “Action heroes always get the girl.” Taking advantage of his lack of resistance while his knees were weak, she gave him a quick shove onto the bed.

He allowed himself to fall flat. The spark in his belly spread wild and hot as his gaze raked over her, admired her boldness.

She stood above him; eyes glued to his, a sly, feral smile across her lips as she reached behind her and unzipped the teal dress. Taking her time, she slid the long zipper all the way to the bottom, and as the dress came away from her body, she let the satin slip to the floor with a quiet rustle.

He hissed his breath in through his teeth as his heart almost stopped. She stood before him in sleek, black satin underwear with an unholy glint in her eye and a knowing smile on her face. He wanted to eat her alive. Swallow her whole. If he’d known what she’d been wearing underneath the gown, he would have come back at the same time as Ryan and Flynn instead of staying to show Zoe off. The sleek, black swatch of material barely covered what it needed to.

Raising her arms, she unclipped her neatly coiffured hair and, with a quick shake of her head, let the curls shower around her naked shoulders. His blood scorched through his veins as her eyes met his, warm and sultry. She swayed as though she could hear music, her hands smoothed down her body—rendering him speechless—and back up again as they glided smoothly over the contours of her basque.

She bit her bottom lip, tilted her head so her hair blazed in a curtain of glory down her back while she trailed daring fingers down her body again, her eyelids at half-mast watching him closely.

Mac propped himself up on his elbows to get a better view; his heart pounded in his throat, hard and fast; his blood thickened.

He tried to control himself, slow it down, knowing she’d had a little too much to drink; he thought perhaps he should stop her, make her think straight.

Knowing he wouldn’t dream of stopping her, he allowed a smile to spread wide across his face as he acknowledged he was going to let her have her wicked way with him. She was a consenting adult, and she’d had sex with him before, several times. She loved him. She’d just told him. Whether she actually meant it in her tipsy state was something he would have to tackle when she was stone-cold sober.

It wasn’t as though she didn’t know what she was doing. She certainly did. He sucked in his breath as she cupped her own breasts through the smooth black material, making an offering of them to him. Oh Christ, she did know what she was doing, and she was about to incinerate him.

She hooked her thumbs in the side of her little excuse for a pair of panties and slithered them erotically down her long, slender legs, flicking them off the ends of her black satin skyscraper heels.

Leaving those heels on, she crawled, sleek and lithe, onto the bed to straddle him, smoothing her hands over his exposed chest, urging him to lie flat. She watched him with dark, sultry desire as she set his heart pounding. Lingering a moment, she placed her lips delicately on his nipple and flicked her tongue out as his breath caught in his throat, sending a primal rhythm through his system that tapped as she moved on. He wondered whether he was going to survive her carnal onslaught.

His brain fused as her tongue slid its warm slippery way down the center of his body. Liquid pleasure raced through his veins as her fingers busied themselves unfastening the button and zipper on his pants. Her long hair blazed a trail across his belly as his muscles quivered and burned. His breath came in short bursts as she parted his clothes and nipped her way across the top of his underpants. Sampling his flesh with the tip of her tongue, she drove him insane as she hesitated just long enough to make him believe she might stop. Molten pleasure shot through him as she sucked his flesh into her mouth and gave him a hickey right there on his hip bone, making him buck under her hands and lips.