Snowbound Seduction (5 page)

When Zac ordered more liqueurs and coffee Rachel didn't object, even though she realised with a little jolt of surprise it was nearly ten o'clock. The time had flown by, and when eventually Zac called the waiter over and settled the bill, she glanced at her watch and saw another hour had passed. Zac stood up and pulled out her chair for her, taking her arm as they walked out of the restaurant into the huge foyer beyond. When he helped her on with her coat, his tall muscular physique seemed to dwarf everybody around him, and the attractive blonde receptionist couldn't take her eyes off him, not that Zac appeared to notice. She didn't doubt he had, though.

It was cold outside but the rain clouds had blown away and the sky was high and pierced with stars. The fresh night air made her realise she was feeling the effects of the wine and liqueurs, and she told herself she needed to keep her wits about her. She suddenly felt uncomfortably vulnerable.

The taxi Zac had ordered when he'd paid the bill was waiting at the kerb. He took her arm again as he helped her into the car and although it was nothing but a polite gesture, the pressure of his hand on her body made her cheeks flush. Zac had taken her briefcase from the cloakroom attendant and as he slung it onto his side of the seat she wished it was between them. As it was, a hard male thigh rested against hers and his arm stretched along the top of the seat behind her. She wondered if he would try for a goodnight kiss and her heart thumped.

‘I'm sorry I've kept you so late. Will you be up to the early hours?' he asked softly, glancing down at her.

She tried to relax her fingers, which were clenched together in her lap. ‘I'm sorry?' she said, having only half heard him.

‘You said you had work to do,' he reminded her.

She had. Amazingly she'd forgotten. Jeff had asked her to go over the failed project with a fine-toothed comb and detail the sales team's part in the disaster for a report he had to submit to the managing director by the end of the week. ‘What I have to do will take a while.' And a clear head. Plenty of black coffee when she got in. ‘We lost a lucrative contract due to certain folk refusing to pull their weight, and my boss needs the facts and figures for his boss.'

He raised his brows. ‘So you really do have to work?'

‘I told you,' she said reprovingly.

He nodded. ‘So you did, but I suspected it was an excuse not to have dinner with me.'

‘Well, I might have said the same anyway but tonight it does happen to be true.'

He gave a roar of a laugh that brought a smile to her lips. ‘And was the ordeal so terrible?' he asked wryly.

‘The meal was very nice,' she said primly. ‘Thank you.'

‘And the company?' he persisted. ‘Was that very nice too?'

‘Tolerable.' But she smiled again to soften the word. She
had
enjoyed herself despite all expectations, and it had been seductively gratifying to be sought out by a man like Zac.

The edges of his mouth curved up. ‘Tolerable enough to be repeated?'

Her heart had just about settled into its normal pattern; now it pounded like a sledgehammer again. She shook her head quickly. ‘I'm sorry, I can't. But thank you.'

‘Yes, you can. You just say, “Thank you, Zac. That would be great,” and the job's done. Simple.'

Nothing was simple with Zac Lawson. And with him so close and the scent and warmth of him enfolding her, it was getting more complicated by the second. Rachel took a deep breath. This had to be nipped in the bud, right now. ‘What I mean is—'

‘I know what you mean, Rachel,' he said, his voice holding only the faintest trace of amusement. ‘Believe me, you're nothing if not crystal clear. And Jennie told me you don't date so there's no misunderstanding on that score. I'd just like you to share a meal with me now and again while I'm over here, that's all. Business in the day and hotel rooms at night are OK, but eating alone can get pretty tedious.'

She stared into the dark face lit now and again by the lights flashing by outside the taxi windows. His voice had been casual, deceptively so. For a moment she almost believed him if it wasn't for those unusual tawny eyes so intent on her face. Jennie had told him she didn't date and for a man like Giles—or in this case, Zac—such a challenge couldn't be ignored. Keeping her voice even and steady, she said calmly, ‘You mean as a friend? Dinner companions?'

‘Exactly.' He nodded. ‘Friends.'

‘Purely platonic.' She raised one eyebrow.

‘Right.' He nodded again. ‘Sure thing.'

Yeah, and pigs could fly. ‘But I'm sure there'll be lots of business colleagues willing to have dinner with you.' And all of them women. ‘And Jennie's free most nights, Susan too. You could meet her Henry, he's a lovely man.'

‘I'm sure he is,' he said, his Canadian burr warm. ‘But I enjoy
your
company and I had a good time tonight.'

So had she. That was the trouble.

‘And the thing is, we know where we stand with each other, right?' he added, shifting slightly in his seat.

‘I'm sorry?' She couldn't think with him so close.

He assumed a patient tone. ‘I'm over here for a short time so there's no question of any romantic attachments, and some women—even after one date—can make things a little awkward.'

Now, she did believe that. She bet women tried to stick to him like limpets; she might have done before Giles had woken her up to the fact that such men were dangerous.

‘You're not looking for togetherness or anything permanent at the moment, so what's the harm in us enjoying each other's company for a couple of weeks, no strings attached?'

‘As friends?' she emphasised again.

‘Sure. That's not to say I don't think you're kind of nice, pretty too. And under that outward facade you're soft and funny and sweet.'

Yeah, yeah, yeah. ‘There's one thing I'm not, Zac,' she said, a touch of steel in her voice. ‘And that's willing in the bed department.' She stared straight at him and she wasn't smiling.

His languid gaze stroked over her face. He grinned. ‘You think I'm a wolf?' he drawled lazily. ‘Of the big bad variety?'

‘Aren't you?' she prevaricated.

‘Not these days.' Something flashed in the golden eyes and was gone. ‘Although I won't say I'd be able to resist doing this occasionally.'

His lips had taken hers before she could do anything about it. It was a confident kiss, firm and sexy, his mouth exploring hers with an expertise that was far from chaste.

Rachel knew she'd stiffened but the sensual stirring of her blood and the knowledge that she'd wondered all night what this would be like kept her from pulling away. And all her imaginings couldn't have prepared her for the impact anyway.

He broke the kiss before she regained enough control to finish it, lifting his head and smoothing the outline of her lips with the pad of his thumb. ‘Just a kiss,' he said very softly, ‘because I'm not a wolf, Rachel. OK?'

She hoped he couldn't feel she was shaking. It was the hardest thing she'd ever done, to pull herself together and speak coherently. ‘You prove you're not a wolf by kissing me?' she asked, proud of the slightly amused note she managed to inject into her tone and hiding her trembling hands in her lap.

‘Absolutely,' he said firmly. ‘A wolf wouldn't have stopped at a kiss, he'd have pressed his advantage by continuing until he got you to his hotel room which, of course, he would have arranged with the taxi driver beforehand.'

‘And you didn't do that.' Good line, she thought cynically.

‘I rest my case.' His eyes lingered on the fullness of her lips and her body heat increased tenfold.

Her throat worked around a tight swallow, her mouth tingling from his kiss. She was equally amazed and devastated by her body's reaction. She had thought herself in love with Giles but even in her most abandoned moments he hadn't aroused her like this, and Zac Lawson was virtually a stranger—and a stranger she didn't like at that. No, she corrected herself in the next instant. It wasn't that she didn't like him. Didn't trust or approve of him was more to the point. Which made it even more
humiliating, if anything. She just hoped and prayed he didn't know.

‘Have I convinced you?'

She'd been so lost in the maelstrom of her thoughts that she blinked before she said, ‘That you're not a wolf? Hardly. Apart from the fact that I think this reasoning is flawed, it could be a clever tactic on your part.'

He considered that for a moment. ‘Then the only way you can prove if I'm genuine is to see me again.' He smiled winningly. ‘The proof of the pudding is in the eating.'

She opened her mouth to tell him that she was not—absolutely, one hundred per cent
not
—going to see him again and looked into the liquid gold of his eyes. Last week, and all the weeks before it after she'd finished with Giles, had been the same. Work, the odd evening out with the girls, nights when she'd washed her hair and done her nails or watched the latest DVD with Jennie or Susan if they'd been in. Her choice, admittedly. She'd been asked out by men on several occasions but had politely declined. And it wasn't that Zac had persisted, not really. From the moment she'd seen him there had been sparks of electricity in the air.

It was a relief to admit it at last.

‘So,' he drawled lazily as the taxi drew into the mews. ‘How about putting me to the test tomorrow night? Dinner again?'

‘Tomorrow?' Rachel discovered it was possible to feel flattered and harassed at the same time.

His smile deepened. ‘Why not?'

She gave him a long, silent look as the taxi pulled to a halt outside her door. ‘You don't give up easily, do you?'

He opened the car door and exited the vehicle, helping
her out and then pulling her into the circle of his arms as he said, ‘I never give up. The words don't feature in my psyche.'

A red light was flashing bright and strong in the back of her mind but she was dealing with the sensations caused by being in his arms and couldn't cope with anything else. She waited for the kiss she was sure was coming and felt disappointment out of all proportion when he gently guided her to the doorstep and dropped a light kiss on her nose.

‘Goodnight, Rachel,' he said softly. ‘Sweet dreams.'

It was on the tip of her tongue to remind him she wouldn't get a lot of sleep that night, that she was going to be working half of it as it was. But somehow she found she didn't want to spoil the moment. Instead, she took her briefcase from him and watched him walk back to the taxi.

He paused with his hand on the door, turning to look back at her as she stood motionless in the shadows. ‘I'll pick you up at eight tomorrow—that'll give you time to get home and change into something less formal,' he said quietly. ‘I thought we'd go somewhere to eat that has a dance floor.'

Hang on a minute, that was too much like a proper date. Rachel opened her mouth to protest but he'd slid into the taxi on the last words, shutting the door firmly behind him. The next moment the vehicle had drawn away.

She stood for some moments staring after the taxi, even when it had disappeared. She was going to regret this. Something deep inside told her dealing with Giles had been a piece of cake compared to coping with Zac
Lawson. So why had she agreed to have dinner with him again tomorrow?

The answer did nothing to reassure her. Because every fibre of her being wanted to.

W
HEN
her alarm woke her the next morning after only three hours' sleep, Rachel glanced across the room to where Jennie was snuggled under the covers of her own bed. As she did so, her friend groaned the words she used every morning. ‘It can't be time to get up yet.'

‘'Fraid so.' She was dreading facing Jennie this morning. When she'd entered the house last night both Jennie and Susan had gone to bed, and at four in the morning, when she'd finally finished the report to her satisfaction and crept into the room she shared with Jennie, her friend hadn't woken. She had been so tired she'd fallen asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow, but now she was awake, the worry that had troubled her last night and made the report even more difficult to formulate was at the forefront of her mind.

As Jennie sat up in bed, pushing her mass of shining black hair out of her eyes, Rachel said quickly, ‘Jen, I'm sorry about Zac. I didn't expect or look for it, I promise you.'

‘What?' Jennie yawned sleepily. ‘Oh, Zac. Hey, it's not your fault if he fancies you rather than me. Did you have a nice time?' she added on another jaw-breaking yawn.

This was making her feel worse. ‘It was OK,' she
said warily. ‘The meal was nice and the restaurant was fabulous.'

‘Seeing him again?' Jennie swung her feet out of bed, standing and stretching before padding over to Rachel's bed and plumping down at the end of it. ‘He's too yummy not to, surely?'

‘Uh-huh. Tonight, actually. He—he doesn't like eating alone,' she finished lamely. ‘That's all there is to it.'

Jennie sat up straighter. ‘Tonight? He's a fast worker, I'll give him that. Must be in the family genes.' She giggled.

‘Jen, I really am sorry, I mean that.'

‘Don't be.' Jennie became serious all at once. ‘Susan and I were saying last night it's about time you got into the stream again and the perfect person to get your feet wet with is Zac. He can wine and dine you and you can have fun without worrying that it's going to get heavy with him only being around for three weeks. Just enjoy yourself, Cinders. Heaven knows, you deserve a break after Rat Face.' Rat Face was her friends' name for Giles. ‘Anyway, to be perfectly honest, if Zac had fancied me it would have been a complication. There's a guy from one of the fashion houses who's asked me out and he's gorgeous, I've had my eye on him for a while.'

Rachel knew Jennie was telling the truth; if nothing else, her friend was transparently honest. Feeling better, she said, ‘What's he like?' knowing such a prompt would keep Jennie going all through breakfast, thereby deflecting any question about her evening with Zac. For some reason she didn't want to talk about it, not even to Jennie and Susan, possibly because she didn't know how she felt. Or maybe because she did.

The strategy worked, and by the time the three women left the flat Rachel's mind was at rest about Jennie. Susan had asked casually if she'd had a nice time the night before but that was all, and even when Jennie had finished waxing lyrical about the amazing Keir, the conversation hadn't turned to Zac.

Rachel turned and looked after her two friends, whose work places were in the opposite direction from hers. Come to think of it, she thought with a frown, they had both shown a remarkable lack of nosiness, which was totally uncharacteristic and could only mean they'd agreed to tread softly-softly. Which was nice of them—in a way—but made her feel slightly exasperated too because she didn't need to be treated with kid gloves as though she was some kind of victim. Mind you, she wouldn't have wanted to talk about Zac if they
had
asked…

Deciding she was in danger of becoming as nutty as a fruit cake, she walked swiftly on, turning her mind to the papers she had worked on half the night and resolutely putting all thoughts of Zac Lawson out of her head. Nevertheless, she had decided that tonight would be the last time she would agree to see him. In the cold light of day she knew it would be madness to do anything else.

 

Rachel was putting the finishing touches to her make-up when Zac arrived at the flat that evening. She heard Jennie or Susan let him in and then the sound of voices and laughter from the sitting room. She felt an instant tightening in her stomach in response to his deep chuckle. Shutting her eyes tightly for a moment, she then opened them slowly on a long intake of breath and stared at the girl in the mirror.

Anxious eyes looked back at her and she clicked her tongue in annoyance at the expression on her face. For goodness' sake, she could do better than this. She had all the sexiness of a scared rabbit at the moment. Inhaling again, she relaxed her taut facial muscles and tried a smile. Better. Not brilliant, but better.

Her eyes ran over her reflection from the top of her head to her vertiginous high heels. She'd spent some time putting her hair up and now it curled in smooth coils at the back of her head, the few strands she'd left down to soften the style catching the light and gleaming like strands of copper. Her silk-jersey dress was a deep cornflower blue and highlighted the blue of her eyes, its plunging neckline showing her newly regained curves to their full advantage.

Compared to some of the daring frocks Jennie favoured, her dress was fairly circumspect, but Rachel knew it suited her and she needed every ounce of confidence she could summon up tonight. She swallowed hard. On impulse she reached for a sexy red lipstick she'd bought a few weeks ago in a moment of madness but had never worn, favouring discreet pinks and peaches normally. Once applied, she was amazed how something so simple as a lipstick could alter her whole persona. Suddenly she felt flirtatious, even a little wanton, and it was heady.

Reason asserted itself and she frowned. This evening wasn't about being provocative, just the opposite, in fact. Her hand reached for a tissue to wipe her lips but in the same moment Jennie opened the bedroom door and sailed in, her eyes bright. ‘He's waiting and he looks like a million dollars,' she said in a loud whisper. ‘You're going to be the envy of every woman on the planet tonight. Come
on
.' She pulled Rachel towards the door,
thrusting the satin cocktail purse in the exact shade of the dress into one hand. ‘Zac's got a taxi waiting. You look absolutely sensational, by the way.'

Sensational was stretching it a bit, but Rachel saw Jennie hadn't exaggerated about Zac. He looked wickedly sexy and extremely dangerous, a supreme Casanova in every sense of the word. Somehow she managed to return his smile and disguise the bolt of lightning that had shot through her as she'd taken in the hard male body encased in a dark charcoal suit cut impeccably to flaunt broad, muscled shoulders and strong thighs—or it seemed to her he was flaunting them anyway. Whatever, he was sex on legs and for the first time in her life she actually felt weak at the knees. Wishing she had Jennie's experience to cope with a man like Zac, she adopted what she hoped came over as an easy, casual attitude as she said, ‘Sorry to have kept you waiting.'

‘You didn't, I was early.' He stepped forward and brushed her cheek with his lips. He smelled delicious. ‘And even if I'd waited hours it would have been worth it. You look beautiful.'

She was vitally aware of Jennie and Susan hovering in the background, their faces alight, and felt hotly embarrassed without really knowing why. Wanting nothing more now than to be on their way, she took refuge in what Jennie had said, ‘The taxi must be costing you a fortune. We'd better go, hadn't we?'

He didn't reply, merely helping her into her coat and taking her arm as they left. Outside, the December night reflected the change in the weather over the last twenty-four hours. Rain and heavy clouds had given way to a clear sky and icy-dry cold, the first real frost of the winter scattering the small mews with diamond dust. Rachel didn't feel the chill, though. Zac's body against
hers was sending the blood rushing through her veins like wildfire. Her own personal central heating.

Once in the warmer confines of the taxi cab, she settled into a corner of the seat but Zac was having none of it. He slid an arm round her shoulders, moving her closer against him as he asked casually, ‘So how did you get on with that report or whatever it was you had to present today?'

Trying to match his nonchalant attitude and ignore the mad fluttering in her stomach, she crossed her legs and simulated a calm she didn't feel. ‘Fine, thank you. There were no problems.'

‘And your boss's boss was satisfied?'

‘As far as I know. He hasn't complained yet anyway.'

‘Good. Did I tell you how beautiful you look, by the way?'

‘Yes, you did. A minute or so ago.'

When in the next moment she felt him gently nuzzle her upswept hair, Rachel sat as stiff as a board, willing herself not to shiver. She was
not
going to play his flirting game, no way.

‘Your hair smells of apples,' he said softly.

She was wearing an exotic perfume, the cost of which had been a week's salary, and Zac liked the scent of her cheap supermarket brand shampoo? ‘It obviously does what it says on the bottle, then,' she returned lightly. ‘The shampoo's called Apple Blossom.'

‘Nice,' he murmured smokily, the hand over her shoulder idly playing with one of the strands of hair she'd left loose.

A quiet heat began to creep through her body, which was all the prompting she needed to break the intimate mood that had fallen. Shifting infinitesimally away from
him on the pretext of turning to face him, she said, ‘And how did your day pan out?'

‘Good.' If he noticed her manoeuvre he didn't comment on it, but now his hand rested on the back of the seat behind her. ‘Real good. One of the guys invited me down to his weekend place in the country; he and his wife escape London most weekends apparently and take in country pursuits, horseriding and fishing and the rest of it by day and dinner parties by night. Open house apparently. He suggested I might like to bring a partner.'

For a second or two her brain refused to function and then the thought process clicked on through the shock. Jennie had been more right that she'd known when she'd called her cousin a fast worker. ‘You're asking me to go away with you for the weekend?' she said weakly. After
one
dinner? Damn cheek.

‘I'm asking you to accompany me to a country house as a friend, no strings attached,' he returned gravely. ‘Separate bedrooms and all that, of course. Everything above board.'

Yes, it darned well would be—if she agreed to go. Which she wouldn't, of course. ‘I'm busy this weekend.'

‘Doing what?' he asked bluntly.

Typical, she thought. Any other man would politely express regret and leave it at that, but not Zac Lawson. ‘Various things.' She hoped she sounded nonchalant rather than jittery.

‘Things on a level like attending a conference on world peace or climate control, or things like washing your hair and having a manicure?' He grinned at her, one eyebrow raised.

Suddenly she wanted to smile but she controlled the
impulse. He didn't need any encouragement. ‘Zac, I have a life,' she said sternly. ‘Commitments, arrangements, appointments.'

‘So it's the washing-your-hair scenario?' His voice was still relaxed, easy, but his eyes never left her face.

She frowned. ‘I don't have to explain what I'm doing to you.'

He bent his head and kissed her. Nothing touched but their mouths, but at the end of it Rachel's shaky composure had crumbled, her breathing disjointed and a warm sweet ache spread through her body. Her eyes had shut of their own volition and when she dazedly opened them after his mouth had lifted she was almost surprised to find herself in the real world, the lights flashing by outside the window of the cab making her blink.

‘I'm only here for a while,' Zac said throatily, ‘and it would be nice to spend my spare time with you. Say you'll come.'

It was crazy, madness, and there were a million reasons to say no, to cut this ridiculous liaison right now, but breathing in the scented warmth of him and looking into the glittering tawny eyes, her mind stubbornly refused to come up with one. Her cheeks were burning and she knew she was trembling. She just hoped he didn't know too. ‘I—I'll think about it,' she heard herself say as another part of her mind protested, No, no, no; wrong answer.

‘That'll do for now.' His gaze unlocked from hers and as he settled back in his seat, his arm once again loosely round her shoulders, Rachel tried to regulate her breathing.

 

The nightclub was plush and the meal and wine were excellent, the small parquet dance floor full of couples
dancing to the live music most of the time. After that one blistering kiss in the taxi, Zac had metamorphosed into a genial and amusing dinner companion and more than once he had made her laugh until she had cried. As the level in the bottle of wine had diminished, Rachel had found it easier to relax. Zac had put himself out to be non-threatening and it was comfortable to go with the flow. Her fragile aplomb faltered a little when he asked her to dance between the second and third courses, but the band was playing a lively number and apart from his hand on her arm to and from the dance floor, they barely touched.

When she made a visit to the ladies cloakroom—a vision in chrome and satin with wall-to-wall full-length mirrors in the outer section—she had to acknowledge she was enjoying herself. Very much. Definitely too much, if she thought about it. But she wasn't going to think about it, she determined, fiddling with her hair before applying more lipstick. As Zac had said, he was here for a short time and then gone. End of story. And as she had no intention of sleeping with him and had made that very clear, she had nothing to worry about.

She returned to the table to find her pudding—a seriously delicious red wine syllabub with blueberries—waiting for her, along with a glass of honey-sweet dessert wine. Reflecting that it was
so
nice to be wined and dined and cosseted, she downed the wine with reckless abandon and ate every scrap of the syllabub. It was then that Zac leant forward, his golden eyes soft and glowing in the muted lighting and his firm, faintly stern mouth smiling. ‘So,' he murmured. ‘Made a decision on the weekend yet?'