The Innocent Behind the Scandal (The Marchetti Dynasty 2)

She needed to take a breath. Get her bearings before she lost all sense of reality. Before he could speak again or, worse, touch her and scramble her brain.

‘Would you excuse me for a minute?’ she asked.

Maks said, ‘Of course.’

He motioned to one of the staff, who came over and showed Zoe where the restrooms were. She went inside and leant against the closed door for a moment, wondering if it would ever be possible to be in this man’s company and not feel dizzy.

She chastised herself as she pushed away from the door. She wouldn’t be seeing him again. Stupid even to go there.

She went over to the sink and ran the cold tap, putting her wrists underneath the water and then splashing some on her face. She stood up and looked at herself critically. Her face was flushed, her eyes far too wide and awed-looking. Her hair was down and tousled—and not in a good way.

Her leather jacket looked worn, and her shirt still showed a damp stain from the spilled wine. Zoe groaned. She most definitely was not sophisticated—or beautiful. Especially not when compared to the women she’d been serving wine to at the event. The man needed his eyes checked. Perhaps he only found her interesting because she was so different to everyone else in his milieu? He was just jaded.

She battled against the fizz in her blood that spoke of too many dangerous things—excitement chief among them.

She couldn’t indulge this heady moment any longer.

* * *

Maks watched Zoe return to the table. The lines of her body were tense and her eyes were avoiding his. He knew instinctively even before she opened her mouth what she was going to say.

She stopped at the other side of the table and finally looked at him. ‘This has been lovely. Thank you for the drink, but I really should be going now. I have to work in the morning and I don’t live near here.’

Maks had to curb every urge he had to persuade her to stay. Not something he was used to having to do. She reminded him of a fawn, ready to bolt. She was resisting this...this thing between them, and he was more intrigued than ever.

He said, with a carelessness he didn’t feel, ‘Sure, no problem. I’ll give you a lift home.’

Her eyes grew wide. ‘Really, there’s no need, I’m all the way over in East London. It’ll be far quicker on the Tube.’

Maks looked at his watch. It was after eleven p.m. ‘And more dangerous,’ he said. ‘I insist. The roads will be quiet now. It won’t take any longer.’

She looked as if she was inclined to argue, but eventually said, ‘Okay—if you’re sure it’s not out of your way.’

It was. Massively. But for the first time in a long time Maks felt energised, and there was no way he was letting this woman slip through his fingers again.

‘It’s not a problem.’

He stood up and led the way out. The hostess behaved with utter discretion and showed no hint of surprise even though they’d only arrived a short while before.

Back in the car, Zoe gave him directions and Maks drove away from the Bond Street area. He could see her hands clasping her bag again out of the corner of his eye. She was tense.

To distract her, he asked, ‘Why did you leave Ireland? By all accounts the country is thriving. My brother has a house there and his wife is Irish. They have a baby son.’

Just saying those words sent a fresh jolt of shock through Maks. He was still coming to terms with the fact that his playboy brother Nikos had recently discovered that he’d fathered a child and was now married.

The thought of being careless enough to find himself having to consider marriage for the sake of a child made Maks go cold. No way would he subject any child of his to the prospect of a dysfunctional marriage, and he didn’t know any other kind.

Beside him, Zoe shrugged. He welcomed a diversion from thoughts of his brother and babies and marriage.

‘I wanted to travel and explore the world outside of Ireland.’

‘Have you been anywhere else?’ Maks glanced at her and saw that her hair had swung forward again. He had to stop himself from pulling it back. He hated not being able to see her face.

‘A little...around Europe. Not as much as I’d like.’

Maks, having become used to reading people and situations ever since his parents had waged their psychological warfare, guessed that Zoe wasn’t giving him the whole story. But he wouldn’t push. For now.

* * *