The Flaw In His Red-Hot Revenge by Abby Green

CHAPTER FIVE

THEYWEREWALKINGinto the restaurant and Zach should have had his mind on the dinner ahead—it was a good sign that Georgios Stephanides wanted to get to know him better—but he was still thinking about the fact that he’d unwittingly brought up the subject of family with Ashling, when it was something he preferred to avoid thinking about at all costs.

The very notion of family was toxic to him. And yet he’d made a promise to his mother that he would not let the Temple name die out. That he would do her sacrifices justice by creating his own legacy. By having a family.

And, worse than that, he was distracted by Ashling’s reaction to his last flippant comment about amateur dramatics. He didn’t like the way it had affected his conscience.

She’d looked at him with an expression of hurt and something else on her face before she’d quickly hidden it. It reminded him uncomfortably of how she’d looked at him that night four years ago, when he’d told her he wouldn’t touch a woman like her. She’d looked stricken.

Then she’d said quietly, ‘I’ve told you I’m sorry for what happened that night. I’ve never done anything like that since then. I knew it was wrong. I couldn’t even keep the money they paid me. I’m really not some...opportunistic con artist, but I don’t know how to convince you of that if you won’t give me a chance.’

The maître d’ was approaching them now, an unctuous smile on his face, and Zach took Ashling’s arm. She felt very slight next to him. Delicate.

He said, ‘Look at me, Ashling.’

He saw the way her jaw tensed, but finally she looked up, blue eyes huge. Her mouth was set. He wanted to see it soften. Wanted to feel it under his again, yielding...

‘I’ll give you a chance, okay?’

Something flared in her eyes. Her cheeks pinkened. It had a direct effect on his blood, heating it at the most inappropriate moment. He gritted his jaw.

Her mouth softened. ‘Thank you, I appreciate it.’

The maître d’ reached them and Zach turned his attention to the man—anything to erase that image of Ashling’s soft mouth from his brain before he had to sit down and be civilised.

‘So you don’t work for Zach full time, then, no?’

Ashling shook her head at the very glamorous wife of Georgios Stephanides. Elena had short silver hair and beautiful features, and she was as genial as her husband.

‘No. My best friend Cassie is Mr...er... Zach’s executive assistant. She’s in the States for a couple of weeks, and Cassie’s own assistant is out sick, so Zach needed help at the last minute.’

Or, more accurately, needed vengeance.

The older woman’s dark eyes were as shrewd as her husband’s. She looked from Ashling to Zach, who was deep in conversation with her husband, and then she said, ‘So tell me, dear, what do you normally do?’

Ashling smiled, glad of the change of subject away from Zach and her role. ‘I’m a yoga teacher, mainly, but I dabble in a few other things as well.’

The woman’s face lit up. ‘Yoga saved my life after I had a back operation. Now, tell me which kind you practice...’

‘They’re a lovely couple.’

Zach looked at Ashling. Her skin was lustrous in the dim light of the car. ‘That’s one way of putting it. You do realise that Stephanides is one of the most powerful men in Europe, if not the world?’

Ashling shrugged. ‘I don’t care about any of that. He’s down to earth. Nice. They both are.’

Zach made a sound. He’d seen Georgios Stephanides’s less genial side. But he had to admit that Ashling was right. Georgios was no push-over, but he was a rare thing: a humble billionaire.

‘So what’s the deal you’re working on? Or is it too top secret to divulge?’

Every instinct within Zach screamed at him not to say a word. After all, that was how he’d achieved the success he had. By trusting no one. It was lesson he’d learnt at an early age, when he’d tried to make friends at a new school. A boarding school in the middle of nowhere. He’d been twelve years old.

They hadn’t been interested in making friends though. Only giving him a lesson in knowing his place. They’d given him a bloody nose and then sneered at him. ‘Listen up, Temple. You are not one of us and you never will be, so let’s not pretend otherwise, hmm? You’re only here because you’re a box-ticking exercise in showing charity to the underprivileged. No matter where you end up, you’ll never be one of us.’

One of the boys had punctuated that speech by spitting on him where he’d lain on the ground. That had been Zach’s first lesson in learning control. Stopping himself from going after them and punching and kicking until the humiliation went away.

And then—many years later—this very woman beside him, in a cheap red wig and a tarty dress, had given him a refresher lesson in not letting his guard drop. Ever.

Now she cut into the slew of unwelcome memories, saying quickly, ‘Actually, of course you can’t say anything.’

But, perversely, in spite of the memories and his better instincts, Zach felt a strong compulsion to speak. Before he could overthink it, he was saying, ‘Georgios and his wife never had children. So he’s looking for someone who can take the reins of his bank. He wants to retire and move into philanthropy.’

Ashling looked at him, compassion all over her face. ‘Oh, no, that’s awful. Elena never mentioned anything...they would have made great parents too.’

Zach had never considered that, because his own view of family was so ambivalent. It was slightly jarring to think of his business acquaintance as someone who might have felt the lack of a family.

And he noted uncomfortably that Ashling’s first reaction hadn’t been to comment on the fact that he’d just revealed he was in line to take over one of the world’s oldest and most respected financial institutions.

Feeling a little bemused, Zach said, ‘Elena seemed to like you.’

‘Not everyone has the worst impression of me. She’s interested in yoga—we talked about that.’

He had to admit—reluctantly—that Ashling had been a good foil this evening. Easy company. He thought of the hurt look on her face when he’d made that comment about amateur dramatics.

Maybe he was being unfair to judge her wholly based on one incident four years ago. She was either telling the truth about it being a one-off, and she really was just a scatty friend of Cassie’s. Or she was lying through her teeth and still angling to make the most of this opportunity.

Had she really grown up on a commune with a mother who sounded like the ultimate hippy? He felt something reckless move through him. He wanted her to prove that he was wrong to give her a chance. That she wasn’t innocent of trying to seduce him in his own home.

On the spur of the moment Zach pulled in at the side of the road.

She looked at him. ‘What are you doing?’

He got out of the car and went around to open Ashling’s door.

He said, ‘Do you want to have a go?’

She looked up at him, comprehension dawning on her face. ‘You mean the car? Drive the car?’

He shrugged. ‘Sure—why not? I’m not precious about things like that.’

‘But...but I haven’t driven in a while. It’s an Aston Martin!’ she spluttered.

‘You know how to drive, don’t you?’

‘Yes, but this is the other side of the road. I mean, it’s not even a road—it’s the Champs-Élysées!’

‘It’s just a road. My apartment isn’t far from here. I’ll direct you.’

A mixture of excitement and shock warred on Ashling’s expressive face.

He half expected her to confess that she didn’t actually know how to drive, but then she scrambled out of the car, the slit in the dress showing one very taut and toned thigh.

She was breathless. ‘Okay, I’ll give it a go.’

Zach realised that what he was doing was madness. They were on one of the world’s most famous roads. If anything happened it would be splashed all over the papers. But that uncustomary reckless spirit moved through him again.

He watched Ashling walk around and get into the driver’s seat. He got into the car.

Ashling wondered if she was having an out-of-body experience. She felt the steering wheel under her hands, the leather warm from Zach’s touch. Looked at the lit-up dashboard with its iconic design. Heard the low, throaty purr of the engine.

It was automatic, so she didn’t have to worry about the gearstick, and Zach pointed out a few things. When there was a lull in the traffic, she followed Zach’s instructions to move out into the road, the car throbbing with barely leashed power underneath her. To her intense embarrassment it made her think of Zach and how he might feel if he was under her...

‘Red light,’ Zach said.

Ashling pulled to a smooth stop, breathing deep to try and calm her racing heart. Awe and excitement flooded her blood. ‘It feels amazing. So light, but powerful at the same time.’

‘I wanted an Aston Martin ever since I saw my first Bond movie as a kid.’

Ashling hit the accelerator again when the light went green. The car surged forward with the barest tap. When she felt she had it under control, she sneaked a quick glance at Zach. ‘You were a Bond fan?’

‘Still am.’

‘I loved them too,’ she admitted. ‘Even though my mother could never understand my obsession. I think it was the cars and gadgets I loved more than anything else.’

‘Not the wealth? The glamour?’

Ashling was barely aware of Zach’s question as she concentrated on not crashing the car. ‘No, I was never into those things. My favourite gadget was the rocket belt Sean Connery wore in Thunderball.’

‘Take the next left.’

Ashling was both relieved and disappointed to see the concierge step out of Zach’s building onto the quiet street as she came to a stop outside. She was still reeling from the shock of him letting her do this.

She looked at Zach, feeling shy. ‘Thank you. This was...amazing.’

‘You’re a good driver. Next time we should go somewhere you can really let her run.’

Ashling blanched a little. Next time?

As if he’d just realised what he’d said, Zach’s face shuttered. He got out of the car and came around to help her out. The concierge took care of parking the car. Ashling told herself that what Zach had just said was a slip of the tongue. He obviously didn’t mean it.

In the lift on the way up, she studiously avoided looking at him. There was tension in the air, though, something hot and restless.

When the doors opened he let her step out first. She turned around and a wave of gratitude for the experience he’d just given her made her act on impulse. She stepped forward and reached up, pressing a kiss to his jaw in almost exactly the same spot she’d kissed him that night four years ago.

His scent hit her, hurtling her back in time. She regretted it as soon as it had happened. She stepped back, her face flaming. His was unreadable. Oh, God. He’d think she was trying to seduce him again.

‘Sorry, I just... I didn’t mean to do that. I just wanted to say thanks...that was an amazing thing to do... I’m quite tired now. I’ll go to bed. Night, Zach.’

And she fled.

Zach watched Ashling disappear. Almost absently he touched his jaw, as if expecting to feel some kind of a mark. She’d barely pressed her lips there, but it burned.

Cursing himself, and the reckless urge that he’d given in to—the same urge that now made him want to follow her to her room and crush her mouth under his, punish her for appearing in his life again and for making him want her—Zach turned and went into the reception room.

It was vast and silent. He stopped on the threshold, struck by that fact. He’d never really noticed it before, but he realised now that he usually didn’t let the silence in.

For his whole life he’d been alone to a lesser or greater extent. An only child. And then, at school, once his aptitude had become apparent, he’d been put under a punishing regime by his mother to succeed at all costs. There’d been no room for friends. For frivolous pursuits.

He’d soon learnt to stay apart. Not only to focus, but also because he knew he wasn’t welcome. It had become like a second skin—the fact that he didn’t need anyone else. And if he had ever felt the lack he’d shut it out with work. Or, later, with sex.

But here, now, after Ashling’s disappearance, he could feel the void. The absence of her bright presence. She had an effervescence that drew people to her. He’d seen it in the way Georgios and his wife had reacted to her.

The fact that Ashling tapped into Zach’s sense of isolation wasn’t welcome. Was that what had prompted him to suggest another outing in the car before he’d even realised what he was saying? He was usually so careful around women, never putting himself in any position that might lead them to think he wanted more than a finite affair.

Zach heard a noise behind him and turned around.

Ashling was standing in the doorway. Barefoot.

The introspection of moments before dissolved in her presence. He instantly felt warmer. Less isolated.

She looked hesitant. ‘I just... I just wanted to say I really hope you don’t think that when I kissed you just now it was because I was trying to do anything...because I really wasn’t. And last night too. I wasn’t trying to seduce you.’ She gave a little laugh that sounded strained. ‘I’ve had two boyfriends and neither lasted very long. I’m really not that...experienced.’

Her face went crimson. She half turned away.

Zach heard her say, almost to herself, ‘I can’t believe I just said that...’ She looked back. ‘Forget I said anything. I’ll leave you—’

‘Don’t.’

Zach knew he should resist, but in actuality he couldn’t. He needed something from her in that moment. Something he’d never needed from another woman because no other woman had impacted him the way she did. Connection.

The sharp tone of Zach’s voice stopped Ashling in her tracks. She looked at him. He dominated the vast space around him. The Eiffel Tower glittered like a bauble through the window behind him.

Ashling forced her voice to work. ‘Don’t...what?’

‘Don’t leave.’ His voice sounded rough.

Ashling’s heart hitched. Her skin prickled all over. The air was thick. Heavy with a tension she could feel coiling tight in her lower body.

Zach walked towards her, shucking off his jacket as he did so, dropping it on a chair. He stopped a few inches away, his gaze roving over her face.

He said, ‘I gave you the impression last night that I didn’t want you. But that wasn’t entirely fair. And neither was what I said four years ago—that you were the last woman I would touch. You made an impression on me. That’s why I recognised you. I never forgot your face. The truth is from the moment I saw you, I wanted you.’

Ashling swallowed. He did fancy her. It was too much to absorb for a second.

‘The woman you were with that night...’

‘She dumped me—like I told you. But I didn’t care. I was angry at first, but then I realised that I didn’t even want her any more.’

Because he’d wanted her...?

Ashling shook her head. ‘You’re just saying this. Teasing me. More punishment for what I did.’

She turned to go but Zach caught her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. It felt shockingly intimate.

‘I’m not teasing. I don’t tease women. It tends to send out the wrong message.’

Ashling could believe that. He was far too serious. She wondered what he would be like if he laughed. Properly laughed. Out loud. Smiled.

‘So what...?’ What happens now? She couldn’t say the words out loud.

Zach tugged her closer. He lifted their entwined hands against his chest and curled his other hand around her neck. Just before his mouth descended on hers, Ashling realised he wasn’t asking her permission because she’d made it all too painfully obvious that she wanted him. For a second she wanted to pull back, disconcert him as he did her, so easily, but then his mouth touched hers and the world went on fire.

Ashling could feel the press of Zach’s arousal against her belly. She strained closer, seeking friction to assuage the ache building between her legs, sharp and urgent.

Zach pushed the strap of her dress off one shoulder. He untwined his fingers from hers and Ashling’s hand slid over his chest, revelling in the sheer breadth and strength of him. He was tugging her head back, deepening the kiss, drugging her, pulling her deeper and deeper into a carnal spell where the whole world, her very existence, was reduced to this moment, with her heart beating and the delicious tug and pull of Zach’s tongue against hers.

And then he broke the kiss, trailing his mouth down over her shoulder. She realised through a hot haze that he was resting back on the arm of a couch and had spread his legs either side of her thighs, so that he could trap here there. It placed his erection closer to the apex of her legs, and Ashling bit her tongue at the sharp tug of need.

He pulled down the strap of the dress further, until one side of her dress was peeled away from her bare breast. He looked up at her for a moment, dark eyes hooded and full of something that made her shake. She’d never known she could have such an effect on a man. Or a man on her. Her previous experiences hadn’t prepared her remotely for this rush of sensations and desires piling up inside her, stealing her sanity and her wits and—

Ashling let out a low moan when Zach’s mouth surrounded the peak of her breast in hot, sucking heat.

Her hands clasped his head. She was torn between pulling him back from torturing her and keeping him there for ever. He laved the hard peak with his tongue, teeth nipping gently, before sucking so hard that Ashling saw stars. She didn’t even know if she was still standing. Every nerve cell was straining towards a release that shimmered just out of reach...

And then his other hand was under her dress, reaching up to find her thigh, caressing her there, moving higher, fingers sliding under silk underwear to cup her bottom.

Ashling couldn’t think or breathe, but something was struggling to reach her through the fog. A small voice. A warning. She didn’t really know this man. He was Cassie’s boss! She’d done something awful to him in the past and he hated her for it. So how could he now—?

Ashling tensed and pushed back, dislodging Zach’s mouth from her breast. She pulled the dress back up over her throbbing breast, securing the strap on her shoulder again with shaking fingers. Her blood was pounding. Her body crying out for fulfilment.

But she wasn’t even sure if she liked this man, and yet he’d connected with her on a level so deep and intimate that it made her head spin.

She took a step back and said shakily, ‘I don’t think this is a good idea. You’re Cassie’s boss. She’s my friend. You don’t even like me. You don’t trust me.’

Zach’s hair was mussed. She’d done that, grabbing his head to keep his mouth on her breast. She could still feel the delicious tugging—

She closed her eyes in a bid to stop her imagination.

‘I don’t trust anyone.’

Ashling’s eyes snapped open again. Zach stood up and went over to a drinks cabinet. He poured himself a measure of golden liquid, asked, ‘Do you want a drink?’

Ashling shook her head. Then said, ‘No, thank you.’

I don’t trust anyone.

He looked very remote at that moment, his back to her. Ashling wanted to go and put her arms around him from behind, press close. The men she’d been with before—sweet and kind and ultimately dull—would have let her do that. But this man...he would resist. And the fact that she knew that and yet still wanted to do it told her she was doing the right thing.

Zachary Temple was not looking for comfort. He was not even someone she thought she could admire. He shouldn’t be having this effect on her. It made her wonder about the rock-solid values she’d taken for granted her whole life, having been taught that things like compassion, wellbeing, happiness and good health were more important than wealth and ambition.

This just proved to Ashling that passion was dangerous. It scrambled your brain cells. Made you fall for the wrong person. Made you trust in something that wasn’t there. Like her mother and her father.

Something struck her. Maybe the men she’d been with before had been attractive to her precisely because she’d known they wouldn’t push her to the edge of her boundaries and over. It wasn’t a welcome revelation.

She wondered if she really knew herself at all. How could someone like Zach fascinate her so much when he’d just been handed everything his whole life? When he was so ambitious—pursuing a deal to gain control of one of Europe’s biggest banks just to add it to his portfolio?

She backed away to the door even as her body still ached for satisfaction. ‘This isn’t a good idea. I’ll go.’

Zach didn’t turn around. He just took a swig of the drink and said, ‘That’s probably a good idea.’

Ashling turned and left on very shaky limbs. It was as if an earthquake had just exploded inside her and her cells had been rearranged. She knew that on some fundamental level Zach had triggered a response that she would never be able to bury or deny again. He’d changed her, whether she liked to admit it or not. In spite of who he was.

Zach knew that no amount of alcohol burning its way down his throat would extinguish the desire that had just knocked him off his feet. He’d felt it last night, but he’d not given it full rein. Just now, though...it had almost overwhelmed him. The feel of Ashling’s mouth under his...her tongue shyly touching his...her slender limbs that belied the strength he’d felt in her muscles...soft breasts, filling his hand and his mouth.

No woman had ever made him lose it. He’d seen his peers fall by the wayside, seemingly driven mad with lust they couldn’t control...he’d pitied them.

But just now he’d been afraid to turn around in case Ashling saw the extent of the need still burning him up inside written all over his face. He felt feral. Animalistic.

He should be secretly thankful that she’d pulled them back from the brink. She was right. They shouldn’t be doing this—for many reasons. Not least of which was because she was not his type at all. And he suspected she’d tell him that he wasn’t hers.

But instead of feeling thankful, all he felt was seriously unsatisfied. And angry with himself for his serious lapse in judgement. He’d shared top secret information with her, and now he had to face the prospect that letting her go was not an option.

The following morning Ashling felt heavy-headed after a restless night. She’d been too keyed-up to sleep. Too full of aches and wants.

Zach, on the other hand, when she met him in the dining room for breakfast, looked as pristine as if he’d just spent a weekend at a spa resort. Clean-shaven. Hair damp from a shower. Smelling delicious. The worst thing was that she could imagine only too well the power behind his civilised clothes. The warm silky skin over steel muscles.

He looked at her when she sat down at the table, not a hint of what had happened the previous evening in his expression or his eyes. It was disconcerting.

But then Ashling had to remind herself that Zach was far more used to this kind of thing than she was. And in a way she should be thankful they hadn’t slept together, because there was no way she knew how to navigate a morning-after situation with a man like him.

He poured her a cup of coffee. There were delicious-looking pastries and fluffy croissants laid out on trays.

‘What are your plans this week?’ he asked.

Ashling picked up the cup, hoping the coffee might make her feel half as put-together as he looked.

She stared at him. ‘Plans?’

He nodded.

Feeling a little nonplussed, Ashling said, ‘I have yoga classes to teach, and I care for Mrs Whyte—’

‘Mrs Whyte?’

‘The woman whose shopping I buy. I delivered it to her yesterday...when you came to my apartment?’

Zach nodded. ‘Yes, go on, what else?’

Ashling put down the cup. ‘Apart from the yoga and Mrs Whyte I have a couple of shifts at the cafe... I think that’s it. Why?’

‘I need you to work for me this week.’

‘You...what?’

‘I’m still without assistants. Gwen will be out for another week at least. Cassie isn’t due back until the end of the week after next. And Georgios Stephanides wants to move ahead with this deal. I’m hosting an event at my Somerset house at the end of next week and he’s coming with his wife to talk over final details. I’ve told you this deal is top secret. I don’t want anyone else to know what’s going on until contracts are signed. You and my legal team are the only ones in the loop. And Georgios has met you. He thinks you’re part of my team. He likes you. He sent a message this morning saying that he hoped you’d be there, which is as good as an order.’

‘But you don’t trust me.’

Because he didn’t trust anyone.

Had her actions four years ago had this effect on his outlook? Ashling told herself she was being ridiculous. She might have caused him some embarrassment, but she’d hardly have enough influence to cause him to become less trusting. He moved in a world where cynicism pervaded everything.

Zach countered with, ‘Precisely. Not only do I need to keep Georgios Stephanides happy, I also want you where I can see you.’

Ashling chafed at that. ‘I’m not a child.’

Something flared in his eyes. ‘No, you’re not...’

Ashling flushed. ‘I can’t just drop everything at the last minute. What I do might not seem consequential to you, but I can assure you that—’

‘I’m sure your neighbour would appreciate full-time care, no?’

Ashling’s mouth stayed open. ‘What are you saying?’

‘That if you work for me for the week I’ll ensure that she has help for as long as she needs it.’

Ashling struggled to take this in. ‘But that’s...that’s like winning the lottery.’

Zach shrugged minutely.

Anger at his cavalier attitude to something potentially life-changing flared up inside Ashling. ‘People are just pawns to you, aren’t they? You’re angry with me so you’ve moved me around to teach me a lesson. And now you think you can just click your fingers and change someone’s life just because it’s expedient for you.’

‘I don’t let things stand in my way.’

‘Because you don’t have to.’

‘Because I’ve worked for it.’

‘I doubt that,’ she scoffed. ‘Someone like you was born with a golden ticket into the arena.’

Zach’s face tightened. ‘You know this because...?’

A prickle of unease skated down Ashling’s spine. ‘Because it’s obvious.’

Was it, though? a little voice prompted. It wasn’t like her to judge. But Zach oozed privilege. To get to his level of success demanded entry at the very top levels of society from birth. She pushed aside her conscience.

‘You’d really set up care for Mrs Whyte for as long as she needs it?’

‘Consider it done.’

‘I’d have to talk to her...see if it’s something she wants. She’s very private.’

‘I can offer her more consistent care than you ever could. With the best will in the world.’

That stung. But Ashling knew it was true. She couldn’t guarantee that she’d always be there, and Mrs Whyte had grown quite dependent on her.

Zach said, ‘You still owe me, Ashling. There is a deal here that I want very badly. If you can help me close it then we really will be quits.’

Ashling squirmed inwardly at the thought of causing him to lose a deal four years before. The guilt was still fresh. ‘I’d have to sort out my other commitments. My yoga classes. The café.’’

‘Whatever you need to do—do it.’

In other words this was a fait accompli and Ashling was being sucked into Zach’s orbit whether she liked it or not.

Much to her disgust, her prevailing reaction was one of illicit excitement, not outright rejection of this turn of events. And, even worse, she realised that her anger had flared so quickly not just because of his arrogance in knowing that he would prevail no matter what, but because just a few hours ago she’d been a very willing pawn in his arms.

Nevertheless, she forced herself to say, ‘What about...what happened last night?’

Zach’s jaw clenched. ‘That was a mistake. It won’t happen again.’