Zoe scowled at herself in the small bathroom mirror. And that was why she didn’t need to invite a man like Maks Marchetti into her life. Because he saw too much and he made her feel too much. And not just physically. That impulse she’d had to ask him to stay scared her even now. It had been so immediate. Visceral. And he was a stranger.
But you want him in a way that’s different—
She clamped down on painful memories. She’d confused desire with being able to trust someone before. But that kiss had blown any kind of understanding of desire she’d had before out of the water. What she’d experienced had been child’s play. This was the real deal. Earthy, raw, out of control. She knew instinctively that Maks Marchetti was a man who would demand nothing less than total surrender. And that was something Zoe couldn’t imagine giving. To anyone. It would ask too much of her.
She looked at herself critically. Pyjamas buttoned up to the neck. Face scrubbed so clean that her scars stood out in pink lines. Superficial scars that hid far deeper scars.
Maks Marchetti would soon forget all about a woman who had intrigued him just for a moment. She wouldn’t be using his number and he wouldn’t be knocking on her door again.
* * *
‘What?’ Maks growled at his assistant without turning around from where he stood at the window of his London office.
The city was spread out before him, with the Thames snaking between iconic buildings and under even more iconic bridges, but Maks couldn’t have cared less.
All that had consumed him for a week now was, Why the hell hasn’t she got in touch with me?
Zoe Collins. The woman he’d shared probably the most chaste kiss of his life with, and yet it had left an erotic imprint that lingered in his blood, waking him every night with his body aching for sexual fulfilment.
‘Um...boss, it’s the fact that you’re meant to be overseeing that shoot in New York at the moment...’
Maks turned around to face the young man. He arched a brow. ‘And clearly I’m not?’
Because he was loath to leave London in case she called. When he never normally made decisions based on a lover who wasn’t even a lover. Yet. The thought that she might never be a lover evoked an almost violent reaction inside him.
He would know her.
‘They’ve decided to reschedule and relocate to St Petersburg, in the hope that you can attend while you’re there for your meetings.’
Maks should feel slightly chastened by the fact that one of the world’s biggest fashion houses cared enough about his opinion to reschedule an advertising campaign to suit his schedule, but he didn’t. He was filled with a sense of resolve.
‘Tell them I’ll be there.’
And I won’t be alone.
No matter how he had to do it, he would have Zoe Collins by his side and in his bed.
* * *
Zoe packed her bag as the people left the classroom. One of the young women turned around at the door and came back, surprising Zoe with an impromptu hug.
Zoe hugged her back, and smiled. ‘What’s that for?’
‘Just to say thank you. You don’t know how much it means, you helping us find our way in this new life.’
Zoe blushed, embarrassed. ‘Don’t be daft. If I wasn’t here someone else would be.’
The girl shook her head. She was serious. Too serious. She’d seen awful things. She’d lost her entire family.
‘Maybe, Miss Collins. But you are the one here, helping us, so thank you.’
Zoe’s heart constricted as she watched the young woman in the headscarf walk out. She couldn’t imagine not being here to help these people. Teaching English to newly arrived immigrants was such a basic thing, and the sense of reward she got from it made her feel guilty enough that she was happy it was on a voluntary basis.
She was about to leave when her mobile phone pinged with a message. She frowned and picked it out of her bag. Not having close family or friends meant that she wasn’t used to receiving the casual messages everyone else took for granted.
She unlocked her phone to see
a text from...