The Perfect Kiss (17 page)

The housekeeper knocked once, lightly, then turned to retrace her steps. Zach inched back into the corner, holding his breath until she passed by. When he heard her footsteps on the stairs, he walked down the hallway to Anya’s door.

He knelt beside the tray, and removed the lid from the container. The tiny amount of broth inside seemed hardly enough to sustain a child. Zach felt that strange concern warring inside him again. That worry seemed to displace his anger all too easily.

Was Anya ill? Was that why she’d run away?

Determined to get to the bottom of her actions once and for all, he stood and knocked on her door. She didn’t answer at first, but Zach stood his ground, knocking even more firmly until he knew she had to hear him. He called to her through the door. “Anya, I know you’re in there.”

Anya stood on the other side of the door, leaning heavily
against the frame as she willed Zach to go away. It was too much to ask her to face him this morning, after everything that had happened between them. It was too much to ask that she should open that door and gaze into his eyes and know that she could never have him—not the way she was beginning to want him.

“You may as well open the door,” Zach said, his voice heavy with threat. “I’m not going away until you do. I can be just as stubborn as you.”

An understatement, she thought. She’d never known a man as determined, as single-minded as Zach Christopher. Slowly, she unlocked the door and drew it open.

The first thing Anya thought when she saw him was how strong he looked this morning. How strong and capable and resolved as he glowered at her from the hallway.

There wasn’t a trace left of the vulnerability she’d witnessed last night—the vulnerability that had so teased her, tormented her. The memory of her temptation lit up inside her. For an instant, Anya felt that same awful hunger, that same fatal seduction luring her to Zach, pulling her to him, making her want him with a passion that could destroy them both.

Last night, it had taken every bit of her strength to resist him. He had been so weak, his blood so sweet smelling, so inviting. She had wanted to kiss him over and over and over….

But she had resisted. The important thing to remember was that she had overcome those temptations. She had kept Zach safe.

But for how long?

“I want to talk to you,” he said, brushing past her to walk into the shrouded room. The windows were all tightly shuttered against the sunlight, but the room was dimly lit by the soft glow of her computer screen. It cast an eerie
blue light over his face, made his features seem harsh and unpredictable. Dangerous even. Anya shivered at the notion.

“How can you stand this darkness?” he burst out, strolling to the window. Before Anya knew what he was about, his hand reached for the lever that would throw open the shutters.

“No!” Her hand flew to her throat as she watched him in horror. Zach’s hand paused on the lever. With just one flick of his wrist, he could release sunlight into the room. He could destroy her. Slowly he turned and stared at her.

“What the hell is the matter with you? Why do you live like this?”

Anya’s heart pounded in her chest. She was frightened, so very frightened, of what he could do to her. If he only knew…

His hand fell from the shutter, and he walked back toward her. Anya let out a shaky breath. “I’m working,” she said lamely. “I always work in the dark.”

“So I’ve noticed.” He stopped in front of the computer, his gaze scanning the screen for a minute before lifting to her. “Question is, why aren’t you working for me? Why did you run away like that? The whole company is in chaos right now. My reputation is shot to hell and all because I trusted you. I trusted you and you let me down. At the very least, I think I deserve an explanation.”

“You shouldn’t have come here,” Anya said, willing a hardness into her tone. A coldness. A resolve she was far from feeling. She turned away from Zach as she gazed at the cloaked window. “Our contract was a mistake.”

“A mistake! Is that all you have to say?”

She gazed at him in defiance. “It was a mistake. I made the wrong business decision. It’s nothing personal, Zach.”

“Oh, well, that makes me feel a lot better,” he said. “Do
you know what you’ve done? Do you even care? The whole campaign is in jeopardy because of you. We need that last photo session before Seduction can even be launched. Every day we wait costs the company an enormous amount of money—money Renee Alexander can ill afford to lose. I can’t let you do this, Anya. I don’t know what your problem is, but I can’t let you get away with this. You have to come back with me today.”

“I can’t. I can’t come back with you.”

From across the room, she saw his expression harden. His eyes flashed angrily, but when he spoke, his voice was carefully devoid of emotion. Somehow that frightened Anya more than anything. He said, very quietly, “Would you like to face my attorney instead?”

“You’d do that?”

His laugh sounded harsh, goaded. “Sue you for breach of contract? Damn right. This is business, Anya. It’s ‘nothing personal.”’

Nothing personal. He flung her words back into her face, and Anya’s pride stung.
Nothing personal.
Did he really mean that? Was his concern for the company the only reason he’d followed her up here?

Anya knew her disappointment was irrational. She should be glad, but she wasn’t. She felt lost, lonely, and utterly defeated.

“What’s it to be, Anya?” he asked. “Shall we talk this out now, come to some agreement on our own? Or shall I call my lawyer?”

Anya lifted a hand to her eyes. They felt dry, burning with tears she could no longer shed. She said wearily, “Do what you want. But I can’t come back with you. Not today. Not ever. And I want you to leave.”

He stared at her for a moment, then crossed the room to stand in front of her. His eyes gleamed angrily in the dim
light, but his lips curved upward with just the barest hint of triumph. Anya felt her knees begin to tremble at that look. He was up to something.

His next words confirmed her suspicions. “And exactly how do you propose I do that?” he asked. “How do you propose I leave here? My car’s smashed, remember? Surely you don’t expect me to walk all the way back to New York.” His hand reached up, so quickly Anya had no time to retreat. His fingertips brushed against her throat, and then, as though taunting her, lingered briefly on her rapidly pounding pulse. His smiled deepened knowingly. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, Anya,” he whispered. “You should know by now that I don’t take no for an answer. We’ll talk more later. You can count on it.”

Then he turned and left the room. Anya watched him go, her heart beating an unsteady rhythm against her breast. Zach’s voice echoed in her mind.
It’s nothing personal. Nothing personal. Nothing personal.

Who were they kidding? Everything about their relationship was personal. Intensely personal. The emotions flaming through her now, at this exact moment, were more powerful than any she’d ever known. The passion she felt for Zach, the
hunger,
and yes, even the concern she had for his life were all so intimately connected, Anya could no longer separate them.

And that was what made them so dangerous. That was why she had to be so careful with Zach. Her passion and her hunger were too tightly woven. One fed the other. The only emotion she
could
trust was her concern for Zach. That alone had saved them so far—but for how much longer? How much longer could she fight her desire for him, even here in her own home, where her resistance was the strongest?

One kiss had very nearly sent her over the edge.

What would another kiss do?

What would making love with Zach do to her?

Anya shivered as images raced through her tortured mind. Making love with Zach was something she hardly dared even contemplate. The very thought left her weak and trembling and…Oh, God, why couldn’t she stop thinking about it? Why couldn’t she stop wanting it? It was too impossible, so very dangerous.

And so incredibly tempting.

* * *

Anya remained secluded in her room all day, and much to her surprise, Zach left her alone. She didn’t hear from him again. When she emerged at sunset, she hoped—and feared—that he had given up on her and gone back to the city.

But the moment she came downstairs, she became aware of his presence. Neither Freida nor Karl were anywhere about, but Anya didn’t need them to tell her where Zach was. She opened the library doors and stood staring at him for a long, silent moment.

He sat, head bent, before the fireplace, apparently absorbed in his reading. He didn’t look up when she entered the room, didn’t acknowledge her presence at all. A lamp glowed on the table beside his chair, but the flickering light of the fire cast his features into alternate shades of light and dark. Anya found herself looking at him, as though for the first time, without the suspicions, without the fear, without the dangerous accompaniment of excitement. She simply studied him quietly.

His face fascinated her. Such a brooding face. And as unguarded as it was now, Anya found herself drinking in heretofore unfamiliar detail—the strength of character in the sharp angle of his jaw, the deepening lines of worry, not laughter, around his eyes and mouth.

It struck her, not for the first time, but possibly more forcefully than ever before, that Zach Christopher was a man with his own private demons to battle. He was a man who had known guilt, torment and a deep, unresolved anger that had furrowed those premature lines into an already harsh and withdrawn face. Such a countenance might have been daunting, even to Anya, if not for one small, almost indefinable nuance.

There was something about his eyes….

As though sensing her thoughts, his lashes lifted unexpectedly, and he caught her staring at him. In the instant before the shield came down, Anya realized exactly what that detail was, why she felt so drawn to him. His eyes betrayed the unhappiness that tore at his life.

And Anya felt her heart give a funny little quiver.

“I’ve been sitting here reading your poetry,” he said, holding the volume up for her inspection. “I must say, there’s a lot here that’s over my head, but some of it…I don’t know…some of it really touches me, Anya.” He gave a short laugh. “You look surprised. No more so than I am. I’ve never considered myself the literary type, but even I can tell that you’re exceptionally talented. I know now why your writing means so much to you.” He closed the book and set it aside as he continued to watch her.

Nervously, Anya crossed the room and stood before the fire, holding her hands out to absorb the warmth of the flames. Heat. How little she had appreciated it before. How desperately she craved it now. She could never get warm enough.

Zach got up and came to stand beside her at the fireplace, propping one arm against the mantel as he stared down into the fire. He seemed different tonight, she thought. More internal somehow, as though he, too, had been wresting answers from his soul.

He hesitated for a minute, then said softly, “What is the darkness inside you, Anya? You write about it over and over again, as if it’s a living, breathing entity in and of itself. What is it? Explain it to me. Make me understand.”

“Why? What possible difference could it make to you? We come from different worlds, Zach. The sooner you understand that, the better off we’ll both be.”

His fingers clenched into a fist on the mantel. “I don’t believe that. I believe we’re far more alike than either of us has ever realized. There’s something between us, Anya. Some kind of a bond. I don’t know how else to explain it, but I know it’s there. I feel things when I’m with you, but more important, I feel things when I’m
not
with you. How do you explain that?”

She could feel his eyes on her, but Anya couldn’t look at him now. Didn’t dare. Didn’t dare risk losing even more of herself than she had already relinquished. Gershom threatened her soul; Zach threatened her heart. They each frightened her in very different ways, but at the moment, Zach seemed the most deadly gamble of all.

“I can’t explain anything,” she said harshly. “I don’t even want to try. The bond between us is called a contract. And contracts can be broken. That’s all you have to understand.”

“You’re wrong, Anya.” His voice was low, but there was no mistaking the anger in his tone. “I understand a hell of a lot more than that. I understand that you’re afraid of me, and I even understand why. That man—that monster from your past—hurt you badly, didn’t he? That’s why you’re afraid of me, isn’t it?”

“Zach—”

“Look, the other night I told you things about myself that I’ve never told another living soul. I told you about my brother, about my parents, about why it’s so important
that I succeed in business. I told you all that for one very good reason—because I trusted you, Anya. I
trust
you. Can’t you do the same for me?”

“You don’t understand anything,” she said bitterly. “I don’t want you to trust me. I don’t want anything from you.”

“Well, I’m afraid it’s too late. You’ve already taken plenty from me, and now you owe me.”

In the firelight, his eyes looked dark and grave and very intent. Anya shivered. “What do you mean?”

“You took my faith in you—not to mention my reputation and a great deal of money—and you walked away from me without a word. At the very least, you owe me an explanation.”

“I’ve already told you. The contract was a mistake—”

“I’m not talking about the job,” he said. “I’m talking about him.”

Oh, God. He was asking about Gershom, about things he could never know….

“Why does it matter so much to you?” she whispered raggedly.

His hand reached out and grabbed her so fiercely, she winced, not from pain but from the surprise of his move. Zach immediately loosened his grip, but he didn’t release her. Instead, he drew her toward him, his eyes raking over her, warming her with the intensity of his gaze. “Don’t be a fool, Anya,” he said. “
This
is why.”

His mouth was hot against hers, and incredibly sensuous. Where her hunger had driven them both to the edge last time, Zach seemed in complete control now. When she would have pulled away, he held her. When she would have taken the lead, he stopped her.