The Innocent Behind the Scandal (The Marchetti Dynasty 2)

They looked at each other for a long moment and eventually she broke the contact. ‘Why are there curtains on every booth?’

She was looking at the long heavy velvet curtains, currently drawn back from their own booth.

‘So that they can be pulled across if one wants privacy.’

She frowned. ‘But why—’

And then she stopped suddenly, the pink in her cheek deepening as she obviously thought it through.

‘Oh.’

Oh, indeed.

It was a long time since Maks had seen a woman blush and it had a direct effect on his blood. Making it surge. He shifted in the seat.

A waiter approached at that moment, with a tray containing a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket and two glasses. When the waiter had poured the champagne and left, Zoe said, ‘Is this really necessary? This isn’t a date.’

Maks handed her a glass and looked at her as he said, ‘Isn’t it?’

* * *

Zoe’s heart palpitated. Maks was so close she could see that his eyes were lighter grey around the edges. His jaw was stubbled.

He tipped his glass towards hers. ‘Salute.’

After a moment she clinked her glass on his and it gave a melodic chime. ‘Cheers.’

She took a sip of wine and it fizzed against her tongue, igniting her taste buds, leaving a crisp, dry taste in her mouth.

‘Your accent...you’re not English?’ he asked.

Zoe tensed. She wouldn’t have expected him to notice that. He was foreign himself. She shook her head. ‘No, I’m Irish. But I’ve been living here since I was eighteen.’

‘Do you have family in Ireland?’

She shook her head quickly, instinctively shying away from more questions. She deflected the attention to him. ‘You’re Italian??

?

‘Half-Italian, half-Russian. My mother was Russian.’

‘And you have...brothers?’ Zoe knew he shared control of the Marchetti Group, but not much more than that.

He nodded. ‘Two half-brothers. And one half-sister on my mother’s side. She was the result of an affair my mother had with an American bodyguard. One of her many affairs while married to my father.’

This was said with no intonation of emotion, but Zoe sensed the undercurrents. ‘Are you close to your brothers and sister?’

A muscle pulsed in Maks’s jaw. ‘My brothers and I didn’t grow up together. It’s only since our father died and we took control of the company that we’ve got to know one another better. So, no, I wouldn’t say we’re close, but I am very close to my sister.’

‘How old is she?’

‘Sasha is twenty-five.’

The same age as Zoe. It sounded as if his parents’ marriage had been volatile, which would have undoubtedly brought him and his sister together.

Afraid that he would ask about her family again, Zoe asked, ‘Did you spend time in Russia, growing up?’

He took a sip of champagne and shook his head. Zoe noticed his hands. Masculine. Long fingers. Strong. A shiver of something that felt like longing went through her.