The Innocent Behind the Scandal (The Marchetti Dynasty 2)

Zoe’s whole body was throbbing. She wanted Maks to kiss her again, to stop talking. She knew she didn’t want to think about what was happening here, because that would be way too scary.

He took a step back. Her belly lurched. ‘Where are you going?’

‘You want me to stay?’

‘I—’

She stopped. For a moment she’d almost said yes, and as the full realisation of that sank in—how quickly she’d forgotten what had happened the last time she’d allowed a man close—sanity cooled her heated brain.

‘No, I don’t want you to stay.’

‘Even if you said yes, I’d still leave.’

Zoe looked at him. She was surprised, and not liking the little voice that whispered inside her head. He’s different. This is different.

‘Why?’

Maks took a step closer again. ‘Because I can see that you’re not ready. You’re skittish. Something has happened to you. You don’t trust me.’

It took a few seconds for Zoe to absorb that, and when she did his words landed in her belly like a cold stone. ‘Something has happened to you. You don’t trust me.’ She felt totally exposed now. In a way that she’d promised herself she wouldn’t ever again.

Zoe folded her arms. ‘You think you see a lot, Mr Marchetti.’

He smiled, but it was rueful. ‘I’m good at reading people. A lesson I learnt at the hands of selfish and self-absorbed parents.’

She didn’t want to know that about him. She didn’t want to think of him and his sister dealing with their parents’ bitter divorce.

She went to the door and opened it.

Maks said from behind her, ‘Give me your phone.’

She turned around. ‘Why would I do that?’

‘Because this doesn’t end here. But I’m going to leave the ball in your court.’

Torn between wanting to shut down that arrogance and wanting to know what he meant to do, Zoe made a huffing sound and then went to her backpack and pulled out her phone. She handed it to Maks, who took it and punched in some numbers. He handed it back, and somehow she resisted the urge to check it. There was something about his confidence that was as irritating as it was seductive.

He went to the door. She felt that lurch again—as if something very primal inside her objected to him leaving.

She walked over. He was already on the other side of the door.

‘I look forward to hearing from you,’ he said.

Zoe held on to the door. ‘You might not hear from me at all.’

He looked at her for a long moment. ‘I think I will. And then you’ll tell me what happened to you.’

The thought of telling him of her humiliation made her go cold. It helped her to stiffen her spine and say, ‘Goodbye, Maks.’

He shook his head as he backed away, his mouth quirking up. ‘Ciao, Zoe.’

He turned, and he’d disappeared down the stairs before she could say anything else. She closed the door only after she’d heard the door close downstairs, and then the powerful throttle of his car’s engine.

She got ready for bed in a bit of a stupor, still slightly stunned at everything that had happened this evening.

She’d lost her job.

In fairness, it hadn’t exactly been her main source of income. Truth be told, she didn’t have a main source of income. She was an expert in doing lots of things and committing to none. Not even photography. Because committing to something meant showing some kind of vulnerability, risking a massive fail or, worse, pain and loss.