The Flaw In His Red-Hot Revenge by Abby Green
CHAPTER EIGHT
THATEVENING, ASHLING was still rattled—even though she’d done a yoga practice with Elena Stephanides. She hadn’t seen Zach again. He’d been in his office with Georgios for the rest of the day.
She looked at herself in the mirror. She looked flushed. Bright-eyed. Was she really going to do this? Embark on an affair with Zachary Temple? What had he said? That it would be short and hot...
Maybe that was what she needed after two earnest but admittedly dull relationships that had been based on all the things she’d thought were important. Like mutual respect. Compatibility. Things in common.
Maybe those things didn’t matter for a short and hot affair.
After all, as Zach had said, they didn’t even have to like each other. There was something very freeing about that. Even if Ashling had to admit uncomfortably that her feelings for Zach were a lot more ambiguous than they had been before.
She looked at herself in the mirror. The cocktail dress was cream silk and chiffon with a ruched and sweetheart-edged bodice, it fell in chiffon folds to just below her knees. The halter neck straps were encrusted with pearls and crossed over her bare back. The only jewellery she wore was a necklace her mother had given her. An Algerian love knot.
She slipped on a pair of black high heels and before she could lose her nerve—or, as Zach had warned her, overthink it—Ashling took a deep breath and left the room.
Zach couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt such a sense of anticipation. It was even eclipsing the fact that Georgios Stephanides had finally agreed to do the deal. Their legal teams were going to travel down from London first thing tomorrow and contracts would be signed.
The old man had looked at him earlier, after their last intense round of negotiations, and he’d said to Zach, ‘I’m glad I’ve seen you here, in this place. To be perfectly frank, I’ve been reluctant to sign a deal till now because I didn’t really think you could understand the importance of the legacy I’m handing you... To put it bluntly, you’re a lone wolf, Zach. And lone wolves are dangerous. They’re unpredictable. But you were smart to invite me here,’ he’d continued. ‘This house...is a home. Or it will be one day. I feel that very much. And Ashling—’
Zach had cut in, in shock at Georgios’s blunt insight. ‘Ashling is just—’
The man had put a hand up. ‘I might be old, Zach, but I’m not blind yet. I can see the passion between you.’
A familiar but for the first time unsavoury ruthlessness had urged Zach to stay quiet in that moment. After all, the man was right. There was something between him and Ashling. He just didn’t know how finite it would be.
And as for this place being a home some day... That concept made Zach feel a little winded. And yet he couldn’t deny the irrational desire he’d had when he’d seen this house. To buy it even though it stuck out of his property portfolio like a sore thumb.
Georgios had continued. ‘I’ve seen here that the lone wolf can be tamed, and that is why I will do the deal with you.’
Ridiculous, Zach thought to himself now, as he waited for his guests to arrive for dinner. Georgios Stephanides is a romantic old fool. That’s all.
He poured himself an aperitif and just then heard a sound from behind him. Even before he turned he knew it was her.
She was standing in the doorway. Hesitant. Before, he’d suspected it was artifice, but he recognised it now. Because for a long time he’d had to consciously battle his own feelings of inadequacy. Of feeling that he didn’t belong in places like this. She had it too.
She looked like a vision in cream and silk, her skin lightly golden. Absurdly, an urge to protect rose up in him. To reassure. Zach shoved it down. There was no place for that here.
‘Would you like a drink?’ he asked.
She stepped over the threshold, her legs slim and shapely. Bare. Lust surged, hot and uncontrollable, at the thought of those legs wrapped around him, her body milking—
‘White wine would be nice, thank you.’
Even her voice, soft and husky, caught at him. It was as if now that he’d decided to give free rein to his desire it was morphing out of his control. Almost.
He poured her a drink and told himself to get it together. He was more sophisticated than this.
When he’d handed her the drink he said, ‘You look beautiful.’
Her cheeks pinkened. ‘Thank you.’
She seemed skittish. Avoiding his eye. Zach was used to women being forward, confident. Especially if they knew he wanted them. But Ashling wasn’t emboldened by the knowledge that Zach had exhibited his weakness for her. In his world, any kind of vulnerability was ruthlessly exploited. He wanted her to look at him, wanted to see her eyes.
‘Ash—’
‘Good evening. I hope we haven’t kept you waiting?’
Zach cursed silently as the Stephanides made their appearance.
Ashling sent up silent thanks when the other couple arrived. She’d watched Zach for an unguarded moment before he’d turned around to see her. Hovering on the threshold...beset for a moment by old insecurities. It had been a reminder that she didn’t belong in a world like this. That she didn’t fit...
Unwelcome memories had come...one in particular.
She’d been waiting for Cassie to come home from school one day, and when she’d heard the car arrive back at house in Belgravia she’d run upstairs, excited to see her friend. She’d burst into the hall as Cassie had arrived—only to be hauled backwards by the rough hand of Cassie’s father, whom she hadn’t seen emerging from the library.
He’d loomed over her, a powerful, intimidating man. ‘Who said you could come into this part of the house?’
Cassie had cut in plaintively, ‘But, Dad—’
He’d looked at his daughter, ‘Upstairs, Cassandra. Now. I’ve told you that if you want to see Ashling you can play in the garden or in her quarters.’
The embarrassment was still vivid. She’d laughed about it afterwards with Cassie, but she’d never forgotten the awful feeling of shame. Of feeling that she didn’t belong.
Elena Stephanides gasped, bringing Ashling back from the lingering wisps of the past. ‘My dear girl, is that a Chanel dress?’
Ashling smiled. ‘Yes, it is. It’s vintage. I found it in a charity shop in Mayfair.’
The other woman sighed theatrically. ‘I don’t even want to know how much you paid for it, because I can still remember the original price when it was brand-new!’
Ashling laughed, grateful for this buffer between her and the brooding intensity coming from Zach. She knew it was too late to resist what was inevitable. She didn’t want to resist. But that didn’t stop her from being very afraid that he would consume her utterly and reveal just how flimsy her defences really were.
Because the truth was she’d never risked her heart before—even if she’d fooled herself into thinking she had.
And to risk her heart was to risk being humiliated, like her mother had been. Humiliated and rejected. Cast aside because she didn’t belong. She’d prided herself on being more savvy. But she hadn’t been tested. Until now.
‘Come here.’
A delicious shiver skated over Ashling’s skin at Zach’s request. Dinner was over. Their digestif drinks in the sitting room were finished. The Stephanides had just retired.
Over the course of the evening Ashling’s concerns had faded more and more into the background, replaced by growing heat and tension. She’d never been so conscious of another human being before. She was aware of every tiny gesture Zach made. The way he sat back in his chair and lazily held his wine glass. The way he smiled. The way his eyes slid to her when the other couple were talking to one another.
She’d felt herself blooming more and more under each successive glance and look. Like a flower opening up to the sun. It was heady.
Seeing him interact with Georgios and Elena, relaxed and charming, showed Ashling just how devastatingly irresistible he could be. She didn’t have a hope. And he hadn’t even had to seduce her. He’d had her from the moment she’d stood in front of him four years ago and set in train this chain of events.
She sat in a chair at right angles to the couch where the older couple had sat. Zach was in a chair at the other end. She felt a need to resist, even though she knew it was futile. Zach was just too...assured.
As if sensing her resistance, he sat forward, relaxed and yet primed. She could sense his tension. It mirrored hers.
‘Come here, Ashling.’
She’d never been so conscious of her name and how it sounded.
‘Why should I come to you?’
Zach arched a brow. He stood up, uncoiling his tall body. He closed the distance and stood in front of her. And then, to her surprise, he went down on his knees before her.
‘Better?’ he asked.
Suddenly she couldn’t breathe. Zach put his hands on her knees, watching her.
He pushed her knees apart slightly. ‘Okay?’
Something about his solicitude relaxed the knot inside her. She nodded.
He pushed her knees apart more and moved forward, coming between her thighs. He ran his hands up her bare thighs under her dress. Every nerve-ending screamed with tension.
He said, ‘I want to see you.’
Ashling lifted trembling hands and undid the tiny hooks that held the pearl-encrusted straps to the bodice of the dress at the front. The bodice sagged, and after another explicit look from Zach Ashling nodded.
Zach took his hands off her thighs and lifted them to the dress. He slowly pulled down the bodice, exposing her to his dark gaze. She’d never been more conscious of her modest-sized breasts. They felt heavy, the nipples tightening to sharp points of need.
He spread his hands around her back, urging her forward slightly so that she sat down in the cradle of the chair. And then he bent forward, placing his mouth first on one breast and then the other. His tongue laved the peaks, his teeth tugging gently on skin so sensitised that Ashling bit her lip to stop crying out.
Her hands were in Zach’s hair, holding tight. She was torn between pushing him away when it got too much and never letting him go.
He left her breasts and Ashling’s blurry eyes focused. His face was flushed. Eyes glittering. He moved back, but not far, and pushed the skirt of her dress up. He pushed her thighs apart even more and sat back on his haunches, looking at her.
The only thing stopping her from trying to close her legs was the naked hunger in Zach’s gaze. She’d never seen anything like it.
He reached forward and pulled her underwear to one side. Every drop of heat in Ashling’s body migrated to that spot.
She could only watch as Zach’s dark head moved down and she felt his breath feather along her inner thigh, his mouth pressing open-mouthed kisses to skin she’d never thought of as sensitive before.
She was squirming as he came closer and closer to the centre of her body. He put a hand on her belly, holding her still, as he all but lifted her with his other hand and placed his mouth right between her legs.
Ashling was barely aware of his hand moving up to cup her breast, kneading her flesh, trapping a nipple between his fingers, as his mouth and tongue explored her secret folds of flesh with a thoroughness that left her shaking.
She put a fist to her mouth to try and stop the sounds leaking out...hoarse screams. Tension spiralled deep inside her and she tried desperately to cling on, not to let herself shatter, because it seemed very important to avoid shattering at all costs.
But it was impossible. With one flick of Zach’s tongue Ashling’s world exploded into a million pieces and she was undone.
She was vaguely aware of Zach pulling her dress back up over her breasts. She looked at him as he stood up. She felt dizzy. Waves of pleasure throbbed under her skin.
He reached for her hands, tugging her up and out of the chair. Much to her mortification, her legs wobbled. He immediately scooped her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing.
He took her into the dimly lit hallway. All was quiet. Preparations for the event had stopped hours before. Ashling felt deliciously lethargic. She knew she should probably object to being carried in Zach’s arms, but his chest was so solid and her arms fitted around his neck as if they’d always been there.
He climbed the stairs with ease, bringing Ashling down to the end of the hall, past her bedroom and others.
He opened a door and Ashling had the impression of a corner suite...windows overlooking the property on two sides...a massive bed dressed in dark colours.
Zach put her down. Her shoes were...somewhere. She vaguely remembered kicking them off after dinner, having a conversation with Elena about the discomfort of high heels.
Her dress was still loose around her chest and Zach moved behind her, carefully lowering the zip. The dress fell down under its own weight, around her feet.
Now she wore nothing but her underwear.
Zach came back in front of her and his eyes were heavy-lidded. He trailed a finger across one shoulder and down her arm. Traced the side of one breast. ‘You are beautiful.’
Ashling ducked her head, her hair falling forward. He put a finger under her chin and urged her to look up. He seemed to want to say something, but then he just cupped her face in his hands, and his mouth was covering hers, and a new hunger licked at her blood, seeking more. Much more.
She felt Zach shed his clothes, cursing against her mouth when a button wouldn’t open. She heard it pop and land somewhere. She felt like giggling.
But she didn’t feel like giggling when Zach stood in front of her naked.
He was majestic. All the way from the corded muscles of his shoulders, down to his chest and his slim hips, where his erection was long and thick and hard.
Ashling’s mouth dried.
His thighs were powerful. Long legs planted like a warrior. He was completely unashamed. And why shouldn’t he be? He was exquisite.
Overcome with a feeling of awe and curiosity, Ashling whispered, ‘Can I touch you?’
His jaw clenched. He nodded.
Ashling tentatively put out a hand to his chest, exploring the warm skin over steely muscles, the curve of his pectoral muscles and the ridges that ran below. The dark line of hair that dissected his lower belly.
She moved around to his back, broad and strong. His taut buttocks. And then returned to his front. She looked at him. At the evidence of how much he wanted her. Instinctively, she reached out and wrapped her hand around him lightly. Veins ran under the delicate skin. Moisture beaded at the head.
‘Ash...if you keep touching me like that this will be over very quickly. And I have no intention of letting that happen.’ Zach sounded tortured.
Ash.
Her heart beat faster. She took her hand away and Zach led her over to the bed.
She lay down and watched him looking at her. She felt a heady rush of feminine power. And then he came down on his hands over her and showed her all too easily who really held the power here.
He explored her body like a man discovering new territory. Every dip and hollow was traced. He paid homage to her breasts for long, luxurious minutes. He dispensed with her underwear, delved back between her legs, exploring with his fingers this time.
Her back was arching off the bed. His mouth was on hers, his fingers pushing her to the edge of her control, but it wasn’t enough.
She pulled back. Zach looked at her. ‘Please,’ she said, ‘I want you.’
His eyes glittered. For a second she thought she saw something like a flash of triumph, but she couldn’t decipher the enigmatic look. She was too needy right now. She’d never known it could be like this. All-consuming. Desperate.
Zach reached for something and she heard foil rip. He smoothed protection onto his erection and moved over her, nudging her legs apart.
Ashling sucked in a breath when Zach breached her body.
He stopped. ‘We’ll take this slow, okay?’
She nodded, once again disconcerted by his consideration. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but in her limited experience of lovemaking she had felt as if it was a man’s journey, not necessarily a mutual one, or even hers. But this was a world apart.
Zach joined their bodies with a slow, deliberate movement, giving her time to adjust. He was big. He took her breath away. For a moment the sensation almost bordered on painful, but as if sensing that Zach pulled out and then eased back in again. And this time Ashling breathed out.
It was amazing.
An instinct as old as time took over as Ashling’s body adjusted to Zach’s and she moved beneath him, wordlessly telling him he could go faster, be less gentle.
A big hand caught her thigh, lifting it up. He went deeper and Ashling made a helpless sound of pleasure. Perspiration covered her skin as her entire being became consumed with this moment, this man, and the storm of sensation gathering inside her, coiling tighter and tighter as Zach’s movements became less considered and more elemental.
She was climbing and climbing, begging incoherently, pleading...
Zach pulled out and she looked up at him, half-crazed. ‘Please, Zach...’
He surged back into her body and Ashling tipped over into a place of such extreme pleasure she blacked out for a second.
When she became aware of her surroundings again, Ashling felt Zach pulling something over her—a soft, light cover. She was so stunned by what had just happened, and by the waves of pleasure that still pulsed inside her, that she couldn’t help confiding, ‘I didn’t know it could be like that...’
Zach went still. He was leaning on his elbow beside Ashling. Her eyes were closed. Her words had been almost slurred, as if she was drunk. But he’d heard her. Her body was covered now, but he knew that after what had just happened every line of her physique would be burnt onto his brain.
The truth was, he hadn’t known that it could be like that either. His body was still humming with an overload of pleasure. He was still—after what had felt like the most intense orgasm of his life—semi-aroused.
He waited for a sense satisfaction to hit, recalling how she’d been completely at his mercy, begging for release. And she had begged. Her eyes had been wide and desperate, breath coming fast. She had been totally at his mercy. But any sense of satisfaction was elusive.
And at the time of her capitulation, Zach had barely noticed.
Because the edges of his own control had been badly fraying. The moment had come and gone before he’d even really realised its significance, drowned out in the desperate pursuit of a pleasure so mind-altering that he could only put it down to an anomalous freak of chemistry.
Short and hot. That was what he’d told Ashling.
It had definitely been hot. The only problem was that right now Zach couldn’t foresee just how short it might be. He had an uncomfortable feeling that he’d just unleashed a hunger that wouldn’t be easily sated.
When Ashling woke there were pink tendrils kissing the sky outside. Dawn. She was disorientated. Her body felt...different. Good. Heavy... Hungry, yet sated. A strange contrast.
And then there was a movement in the bed beside her and it all came flooding back in glorious Technicolor. She held her breath and turned her head. Zach was on his back asleep, an arm thrown over his head. His chest was bare, and a sheet rode strategically low on his hips, showing the start of dark curling hair where the sheet tented over an impressive bulge, even at rest.
Heat curled into Ashling’s belly and between her legs, where she felt tender.
She looked at his face. He looked younger in sleep. Lashes long and dark. Those dark, watchful eyes hidden. She imagined him waking and finding her looking at him. That galvanised her to steal from the bed as quietly as she could.
She pulled on her dress, just to cover up, and picked up her underwear. Back in her own room, she slumped against the closed door. The full magnitude of what had happened sank in. How amazing it had been. How considerate Zach had been. How she did have a capacity for pleasure—extreme pleasure.
She thought of Zach’s prediction that this would be short and hot. She almost hoped that Zach was right. Last night had been so intense, and totally unexpected. Surely, she thought a little desperately, that had been a one-off. Not every time would be like that? It had been a culmination of everything between them since they’d met again...that was all.
The thought of sleeping with Zach again, now that she knew what to expect, alternately excited and terrified her. She’d been so exposed. So needy. So ravenous. It was a side to her that she hadn’t known existed and it scared her slightly, because it hinted at a level of passion in which she could lose herself. Forget to protect herself. Forget the lessons she’d learnt about not falling for the wrong person.
In all honesty, she didn’t know if she could withstand a prolonged period of Zach’s seduction. She had a very real fear that she would be incinerated in the process.
Zach couldn’t quite believe his eyes. At the end of the garden, tucked away from prying eyes, well away from the hubbub of people preparing for the party that night, Ashling was giving a yoga class to Elena Stephanides. They both had yoga mats and Ashling was standing on one leg now, with the other one bent, her foot tucked against her inner thigh, arms outstretched.
Elena was mirroring her pose. But all Zach could see was Ashling. Every lithe and toned inch of her petite body. He’d felt her strength last night. The power in her thighs, clamped around his waist as the inner muscles of her body had contracted around his so forcibly that he’d—
‘Zach?’
It was as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over his head. What on earth was he doing?
He turned around. Georgios Stephanides was looking at him with a far too knowing twinkle in his eye. He was holding out a heavy silver ink pen.
‘Time to sign—unless, that is, you’ve changed your mind?’
No way, thought Zach, pushing all thoughts of a lithe temptress out of his mind.
He sat down and took the pen, and scrawled his name beside Georgios’s. He waited for the surge of satisfaction to come. After all, this deal blew everything else out of the water, and after this there would be no doubt that Zach had taken his place among his ancestors, whether his family liked to admit it or not. They wouldn’t be able to deny it—or deny him his rightful place.
Satisfaction was there. But it was hollow. Almost an anti-climax. Which made him think of another climax. One a few hours before, that had almost seared his brain clear of everything he’d ever known.
Georgios clapped him on the shoulder. Zach looked up.
‘Take care of my legacy, Zach,’ the man said. ‘Don’t make me regret what I’ve done here today.’
Before, Zach would have spoken some platitude. He’d done it a million times before in similar situations. But for the first time he felt an echoing of the older man’s emotion inside him. Georgios Stephanides didn’t really know Zach. They shared no blood. And yet he’d shown a level of trust in Zach that his own flesh and blood never had.
He stood up, shook Georgios’s hand, feeling surprisingly humbled. ‘Thank you. I will.’
Georgios and the rest of their teams left the boardroom attached to his study. Zach took a breath. He was losing it. Going soft. Great sex had never had this effect on him before. He’d also never woken in his bed after a woman had left it. Usually he was the one to put very clear boundaries in place. He was the one to leave.
A sense of foreboding prickled over his skin.
He went back to the window and looked out. Ashling was bent like a triangle now, with her Lycra-clad bottom in the air. And just like that, any sense of foreboding melted into a haze of heat.
The first piece of karma had just been served. The second piece was her. In his bed again. For as long as this heat continued. And then he would be free to move on, unencumbered by any ghosts from the past.
Maybe Georgios Stephanides was right, and this house would be a home one day. But it would not be a home for the type of family that had shunned Zach since he was born. It would be for a family that would cement Zach’s legacy in society, and make all the sacrifices that had led to this moment, worth it.
