She was torn between jumping at the opportunity and her wariness at the thought of spending more time with a man who made her skin prickle with heat and a million other disturbing things.
Zoe looked at him suspiciously. ‘And after the exhibition? Then what?’
‘That’s up to you. I’d like to take you for dinner, maybe a drink, or I can drop you home.’
Remembering that kiss, Zoe said quickly, ‘I can make my own way home.’
‘Whatever you wish.’
* * *
Maks looked at the woman in front of him. If his blood hadn’t been humming just from being near her again he might have wondered why she had such a unique effect on him, but he wasn’t capable of wondering about anything right now. He felt as if he’d scored a victory merely because she hadn’t said no, and because she hadn’t ruled out dinner or a drink.
The fact that he hadn’t had to work so hard to seduce a woman ever was also not something he cared to think about right now.
Zoe couldn’t have been less dressed to impress, but all he could see were those huge aquamarine eyes. Her hair was down, which he was guessing was her default, so she could hide behind it if she wanted to. It made him want to pull it back, so he could see her face more clearly. He barely noticed her scars. He was more distracted by her soft lips, and the erotic memory of how they’d opened under his mouth, the taste of her...
He cursed silently when his body responded.
‘Okay. I’d like to come, thank you.’
Maks almost didn’t hear her, he was trying so hard to get his body under control. ‘Good. That’s...good.’
Zoe made a face, and she suddenly looked shy. ‘Would you mind if I stopped by my flat to change, though? Just for five minutes.’
Maks shook his head. ‘Of course not. Let’s go.’
A couple of hours later he was wondering why he’d been surprised when Zoe literally had only been in her flat for five minutes before re-emerging.
He looked at her across the gallery.
She’d changed into figure-hugging leather trousers and a soft V-necked cream sweater, under a dark grey jacket. Clothes designed not to draw attention. To blend in. Like the way she used that fall of honey-blonde hair to hide her face—most of the time.
She had a tomboyish style that made him want to see her dressed in long falls of silk and satin that would cling to her body and reveal those slender curves. That pale skin.
She was staring intently at a large photograph of Yosemite, the national park in America. His mouth thinned. Another first—a woman who wasn’t utterly absorbed with him. Either feigning it or otherwise.
As if reading his mind, the woman beside him said, ‘I like her already. She’s not clinging to your arm as if she can’t walk by herself or simpering about the latest nail varnish colours.’
Maks looked at his sister and said dryly, ‘Sash, if I wasn’t so emotionally barren you could really hurt me sometimes.’
His sister snorted derisively but Maks ignored her. It had been a bad idea to ask her to come. She was too astute for her own good.
* * *
Zoe knew she couldn’t keep pretending that the photos held more fascination for her than the man she could see behind her through the crowd, reflected in the glass over the black and white image.
He was talking to a woman. Tall, slim. A dart of something hit Zoe in the solar plexus. A jolt of possessiveness. Which was ridiculous. They’d kissed once! He was obviously only interested because she wasn’t falling into his arms like an overripe plum.
Steeling herself, Zoe turned around and walked back over towards Maks, whose dark grey gaze was unnervingly intent on her.
She took in the woman beside him. Something about her was familiar, but she knew she’d never seen her before. She was wearing nondescript clothes, a shirt and long skirt, as if she was trying to hide. Long hair...dark blonde. And she wore glasses. But Zoe realised that woman was extraordinarily beautiful. She was just trying to hide it.
Something about that resonated inside Zoe. The sense of a kindred spirit.
Maks gestured to the woman. ‘Zoe, I’d like you to meet my sister, Sasha.’
His sister. A knot unclenched inside Zoe.