The Innocent Behind the Scandal (The Marchetti Dynasty 2)

* * *

Zoe put her camera to her eye and focused on the stunning mosaics in the ornate cathedral. She’d ducked in here after spending the last few hours walking the streets, taking pictures of people, unnoticed.

She understood why she liked photography so much—it kept her removed. And she was losing herself in photography right now to distract herself from the enormity of letting Maks persuade her to stay when she would have fled. Back to her safe little life. Changed for ever. But safe again.

Really? asked a small inner voice. Would you have been able to put Maks Marchetti behind you as if it had never happened?

No. Zoe wasn’t self-delusional enough to tell herself that. She would never forget Maks now. He was imprinted on her mind and on her body in a way that truly terrified her. Which was why she’d wanted to run.

Except it hadn’t taken much to persuade her to stay. They’d spent a whole day in bed yesterday, ordering from room service. Maks had disappeared in the evening—presumably to catch up on the work he was meant to be doing. Zoe had been too sated and exhausted to do anything but have a shower and go back to bed.

Maks had woken her a few hours later, sliding into her bed, wrapping his hard, naked body around hers. She’d turned to him instinctively, more than shocked to find how accustomed she’d already become to having him in her bed.

He hadn’t said a word, but he had used his mouth to communicate an urgency and desperation that she’d matched. Rising above him and taking him inside her, moving up and down experimentally at first, and then with more confidence when she’d seen the look of absolute absorption on his face.

The sensation of being in control had been heady. Until Maks had said, ‘Witch...’ and put his hands on her hips, holding her so that he could pump powerfully into her body, showing her that any sense of control had been brief and illusory. But by then she hadn’t cared, because every point of her being had been fixated on chasing the ecstasy only he could bring.

She groaned softly at the memory and a nearby tourist looked at her. Mortified, Zoe walked back out into the late-afternoon sunshine, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the light. Autumn was arriving and the city was taking on a golden hue. It was more beautiful than she would have ever imagined, with the multi-coloured turrets of the church standing out against the bright blue sky.

‘Here you are.’

Zoe would have dropped her camera if not for the fact that it was around her neck. She whirled around, her joy at seeing Maks taking her by surprise before she could stop it.

He’d been gone when she’d woken this morning, but had left a note.

I can’t keep avoiding meetings—much as I’d prefer to. My driver will take you wherever you want to go, except to the airport.

You promised to be my date tonight, don’t forget...

M

His date. For another event later this evening. She’d avoided thinking about it till now.

‘How did you find me?’

Maks held up his phone. ‘I called the driver—amazing what modern technology can do these days.’

Zoe made a face. He turned her brain to mush. Especially when he was dressed in a dark grey three-piece suit that made his eyes look even steelier.

He said, ‘I’ve arranged for the designers in the showcase to send over some dresses for you to choose from for this evening.’

Zoe walked with him back to the car. He’d told her about this event—a fashion show to showcase up-and-coming Russian designers, get them noticed on the world stage. Insecurity lanced her.

‘But I’m not a model—I’m way too short. The dresses probably won’t fit.’

‘I’ve given them your size and height.’

Zoe stopped before they reached the car. ‘I wouldn’t want to let them down, though...what if I choose a dress and it looks awful on me? That’s hardly fair on the designer.’

* * *

Maks turned to Zoe. She looked genuinely concerned. When he could well imagine other women being incensed at the thought of wearing an unknown designer, she didn’t want to let them down. He felt a curious sensation in his chest.

‘Let me be the judge of whether or not you’ll do them justice, hmm? After all, it’s my reputation on the line—and the Marchetti Group’s.’

She bit he

r lip and Maks had to fight back a wave of desire. He’d found it hard to concentrate today, wondering where she was. How she was after their indulgent day. And night. She’d been innocent. She must be tender.