Maks’s mouth firmed. ‘Maybe not, but—’
Zoe reached out, touching his arm. ‘I liked it.’
Very much.
She blushed, and was glad of the low lighting that disguised it.
He looked at her, and then reached for her, pulling her into his side. ‘You did?’
Zoe ducked her head against him, not wanting him to see how much she had liked it. His skin was warm, his muscles hard. She nodded against him, embarrassed by the depth and strength of her own desires.
He tipped up her chin. He still looked serious. ‘You’re small. I was afraid I’d taken you so quickly that you hadn’t had time to be ready, or even to say no...’
Zoe’s heart swelled dangerously. He was so much the opposite of her ex-boyfriend, who had ultimately been prepared to use violence to get what he wanted.
She shook her head. ‘Honestly, you didn’t hurt me. I was...ready.’
And she was ready again. She could feel her body softening, ripening. Just from being near him.
‘You’re sure?’
She came around in front of him and reached up. Putting her arms around his neck. Bringing her body flush with his. ‘Yes. I’m sure. I’m not delicate, Maks.’
She had a sense, then, of her own innate strength. An awareness that was new and revelatory. Maks had given her this, and it was more priceless than any jewel.
He looked at her for a long moment and then he brought his hands to her hips. She could feel his body harden against her and she shifted against him. The serious look faded as his eyes blazed with renewed heat. Zoe still couldn’t believe that she had such an effect on him.
He said, ‘This...between us...isn’t over, Zoe. Not by a long shot. We have to leave here tomorrow, but this isn’t over...’
Zoe blinked. She hadn’t even thought about tomorrow. She’d happily let the cocoon of Maks’s world enclose her in a timeless bubble. But now something flickered inside her. Hope.
‘What are you saying?’
He caught a lock of her hair and wound it around a finger. He said, ‘I have to go to Venice, and if you want my plane can take you on to London. But I’d like you to come to Venice with me for a couple of days.’
Zoe felt a yearning rise up inside her. It would be so easy just to acquiesce. Even though she knew the sensible and smart thing to do would be to end this now. Go back to her regular life. To reality. Which was far removed from this man and his world, where he clicked his fingers and things manifested themselves as if by magic.
But...would it be so wrong to indulge for just a little longer? It wasn’t as if he was lulling her into a false sense of security. She knew he was only offering a finite affair. And she didn’t want anything more either.
Liar, whispered that small voice.
She ignored it. She was getting good at that. At ignoring her conscience. At ignoring that yearning feeling. Yearning for something she’d shut out for years. Love. A family. No. Those things represented loss and pain. She wasn’t going to risk that ever again. This wasn’t about that. Not remotely. So she was safe.
‘Okay. I’ll come with you.’
Maks smiled. ‘Good.’
And then he bent his head and covered her mouth with his, and she leapt straight back into the fire that was so effective at burning away the voice of her conscience.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ZOE HAD SEEN pictures of Venice her whole life. Who hadn’t? But pictures couldn’t have remotely prepared her for that first view down the Grand Canal from the water taxi. For once, she didn’t even feel the urge to look through the lens of her camera. It was just so...beautiful. Timeless. Iconic. Familiar and yet totally new at the same time. Trying to capture it digitally would inevitably do it a disservice.
The crumbling ancient palazzos had romantic balconies, and windows that winked like eyes as they passed by. Zoe couldn’t help but wonder about the people who had lived in those places....who lived there now. It was like a fairy tale place.
‘You’re impressed.’
Zoe heard the smile in Maks’s voice and glanced at him, feeling gauche. ‘Sorry, you’re probably used to a more blasé, sophisticated reaction.’