The Innocent Behind the Scandal (The Marchetti Dynasty 2)

Her heart stopped. Him.

Hi Zoe...

She texted back,

How do you have my number?

I made sure I called myself from your phone when I put in my number, so I knew I’d have it.

Zoe’s heart was palpitating. All week he’d haunted her waking and sleeping moments. A dozen times she’d almost deleted his number and then stopped herself at the last moment.

She typed back.

I would have called you if I was interested.

An answer came almost immediately.

Oh, you’re interested.

Zoe wanted to scowl, but it turned into a grudging smile. She couldn’t deny the rush of excitement. And also a treacherous sense of relief.

Before she could think of how to respond to that he sent another text.

I’m outside, waiting for you. Interesting place.

Zoe nearly dropped her phone. She looked up, suddenly terrified he’d be lounging in the doorway, smirking at her. But it was empty. He could hardly mean...

She walked out of the room with her bag, down the corridor of the local community centre. Not the prettiest building in the world, by any stretch of the imagination, and certainly not the kind of place for a man like—

He was here.

Zoe stepped outside the main doors to see Maks Marchetti, lounging against the same low-slung car he’d been driving a week ago. Except this time he was dressed more casually, wearing dark trousers and a dark grey long-sleeved top. She didn’t have to inspect it to guess that it was probably cashmere, and it clung to his muscles far too lovingly, leaving little to the imagination.

Zoe felt self-conscious in her worn jeans and T-shirt, worn under an even more worn V-necked jumper. Scuffed trainers.

She walked over. ‘What are you doing here?’ She sounded accusing and winced inwardly. This man precipitated extreme reactions in her.

‘I got bored waiting for you to call and sought you out. You’d mentioned teaching English, and it wasn’t hard to find out where some local classes were listed.’

Zoe hated to admit that she was impressed. ‘You could have just called me.’

He shrugged. ‘It wouldn’t have been as much fun.’

She looked around the very ordinary car park in disbelief. ‘As much fun as visiting East London again? You need to get out more.’

Maks chuckled. ‘Perhaps I do.’

He stood up straight, reminding Zoe how tall he was. How powerful. How that mouth had felt on hers. Hot. A wave of desire made her legs feel momentarily weak.

‘I’ve been invited to the opening of a photography exhibition this evening. I thought you might like to come with me.’

Zoe hadn’t expected him to say that. Curiosity got the better of her. ‘What exhibition?’

‘Taylor Cartwright’s latest work.’

Zoe sucked in a breath at this mention of one of America’s foremost landscape photographers, who had died recently, and said, almost to herself, ‘It’s been sold out for months...’

‘Would you like to come?’