His Brand of Passion

He shook his head slowly. ‘Everything between us has been an aberration, Zoe.’

That didn’t sound good, even as she recognised it for truth. Nothing between them had been normal, not even this. ‘So what are you saying?’ Her voice was small when she wanted it to be strident. ‘Is that a no?’

‘I…’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t know what it is. I’m not—I’m not good at this.’

‘Good at what?’

He gestured between the two of them with one impatient hand. ‘This.’

Everything, she supposed. Conversation. Closeness. A relationship. All the things she wanted, even if she knew she shouldn’t. He glared at her, yet underneath the anger in his eyes she saw fear, and it made her heart contract.

‘I’m not so good at it, either,’ she said quietly.

He let out a huff of disbelieving laughter. ‘Really.’

‘Really.’ She took a deep breath. ‘What scares you more, Aaron—that you don’t know how or that you want to?’

‘Want to?

‘Do you want to?’ She stepped closer, gazing at him with all the honesty, hope and fear she felt. The words spilled out of her, needing to be spoken even though it might be the stupidest and most dangerous thing she’d ever said or done. ‘Do you want something between us? I’m not saying I even know what it is.’ She laid one hand on his arm and felt the muscles jump underneath her light touch. ‘I’m not pushing for some—some kind of a relationship.’

‘A relationship,’ Aaron repeated tonelessly.

‘But I feel something for you. And I think you feel something for me.’ Zoe held her breath. Had she just ruined everything? Pushed too hard…again? Yet already she felt more for Aaron than she’d ever expected to, and it felt real. Not like the times before, when she’d forced a relationship because she’d been so desperate to prove she was lovable, that she wouldn’t be rejected like before, and then of course she had been.

Except maybe she was still living in that fantasy world, because Aaron didn’t say anything. He just stared at her, the darkness in his eyes and the grim set of his mouth making Zoe pretty sure he did not like having this conversation.

‘I don’t know what I feel,’ he finally said, and Zoe felt incredulous hope unfurl inside her, start to bloom. It wasn’t much of an admission, yet for a man like Aaron she knew it was huge. This was startling—and scary. It was new territory for him—and he was admitting it.

‘That’s okay,’ she said, and squeezed his arm.

Aaron shook his head. ‘I can’t give you the things you want, Zoe.’

‘How do you know what I want?’

‘I could guess.’

‘So what are you saying you can’t give me?’ She tried to stay light, but her heart was pounding. Already this conversation was out of both of their depths.

‘I’m jumping ahead,’ he said with another impatient shake of his head. ‘This wasn’t how I wanted to go about it.’

Now she really felt lost at sea, flailing with incomprehension. ‘Go about what?’

Aaron took a deep breath and let it out in a shuddering, resolute sigh. ‘Asking you to marry me.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE WORDS SEEMED to reverberate in the room between them, and vaguely Zoe realised this was the third time he’d shocked her with a suggestion—and this was the most shocking at all.

‘You’re joking,’ she said, feebly, for of course he wasn’t. Aaron didn’t joke, and in any case the look on his face said enough. He looked like a man resolutely facing execution, which was not exactly the appearance one hoped for during a marriage proposal.

‘You don’t have to answer now,’ he said steadily. ‘Obviously, you need to think about it. But I’ve been considering what the best option is going forward—for us and for this child.’

‘And you think it’s marriage?’

His face hardened into implacable lines. ‘Yes.’

Zoe shook her head, everything in her a jumble of mismatched feelings. She could not begin to sort out how she felt. ‘But Aaron…’

‘Like I said, you don’t have to answer now. I probably shouldn’t have brought it up, but it’s been on my mind. Sleep on it.’

Protestations tumbled from her lips, her mind still whirling. ‘But we don’t even know if this pregnancy is truly viable yet.’

Aaron nodded, his gaze steady on her. He didn’t seem remotely ruffled. ‘And we don’t have to get married tomorrow. We have time. Time to think.’

‘You seem to have made up your mind,’ Zoe observed numbly.

‘Yes, but I realise it might be different for you.’

‘Different?’ Curiosity flared within her. ‘How?’

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. ‘It’s different for women.’

‘That’s a stereotype if I’ve ever heard one.’

He raised his eyebrows, a faint, sardonic smile curling his mouth. ‘Are we really going to argue about this now?’

‘You brought it up,’ Zoe retorted, then closed her eyes and shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. I’m shocked. I feel like you jumped a mile ahead of me.’ To think a few moments ago she’d been nervous she was pushing too hard when all she’d said was she felt something for him. He’d responded with a marriage proposal.

But not with a declaration of love. Now she was clearly the one jumping ahead because obviously, obviously, Aaron was only talking about some kind of bizarre business arrangement.

‘I’m sorry for springing it on you at this unfortunate hour,’ he said tiredly. ‘We can talk about it in the morning, when we’re both a bit more rested.’

‘That sounds like a good idea,’ Zoe said shakily, and on leaden legs she headed for her bedroom. Aaron stopped her with a word.

‘Wait.’ She turned around, expectant, wary. ‘I thought you were sleeping with me.’ His eyes were dark, fathomless, intense. Zoe felt her heart beat hard.

‘But I thought—’ She stopped, for he simply held out his hand and after a second’s uncertain pause she took it.

Lying in bed with him, with his arms tucked securely around her middle, his chin resting on her shoulder, should have felt strange. New, at least. Yet as she fit her body against him and felt his tension slowly start to ease Zoe knew it only felt right. Like coming home, which was ridiculous, yet she could not keep herself from feeling it. From wanting this and even more.

If she and Aaron married, every night could be like this. Unless, of course, he’d meant some kind of temporary marriage…until their child was a certain age? Or maybe just a cold-blooded business arrangement, which certainly seemed his style, to give their child the security of his name? Not a real marriage—a marriage that involved sharing and commitment and love, the kind of marriage she still wanted and had been searching for, even if she wasn’t quite sure she believed in it anymore.

She had no answers, yet the fact that she was even asking the questions made her realise she was seriously considering Aaron’s proposal. She hadn’t said no out of hand. she hadn’t even thought it…which was a terrifying thought in itself.

Some time near dawn She must have drifted into an uneasy doze, for when she awoke Aaron wasn’t in the bed and she could hear the shower running. She sat up, pushing tangles of hair from her eyes as she heard the shower turn off. Aaron came into the room with only a towel slung low on his hips.

‘Good morning.’ He gave her a rather brusque nod before reaching for his clothes. The towel dropped, and Zoe’s mouth dried as she took in Aaron’s naked body; his back was to her, so she could observe and admire the taut, muscular lines of his back and thighs. He was perfectly proportioned and unaccountably built.

‘Did you sleep well?’ he asked, no more than solicitous, and Zoe yanked her gaze away from her perusal of his butt.

‘Not really. Did you?’

He turned around, now clad in boxers, and gave her a surprisingly wry smile. She loved his smiles, rare as they were. They transformed his face, his whole self. They made her realise there was more to this man than taciturn authority. ‘Actually, I did. Better than I have in ages. I suffer from insomnia.’

She smiled back. ‘Maybe you should try sleeping with someone more often.’

His gaze blazed briefly into hers before he turned away. ‘Maybe I will.’

Zoe slid out of the bed and went for her own shower. By the time she emerged Aaron was in the kitchen, dressed in a business suit and slicing strawberries for their breakfast.

Zoe hesitated in the doorway of her bedroom as she watched him, his movement so precise, a faint frown of concentration settled between his brows. He did everything so seriously, as if it was a hugely important matter, even cutting up some fruit. She realised then that he never would have asked her to marry him lightly.

He must have thought about every angle, every possibility. He’d had every answer. She walked forward with a smile on her face and Aaron turned.

‘Hungry?’

‘Yes. I’m always hungry in the mornings. And eating helps the nausea.’ She slid onto a stool by the breakfast bar and plucked a strawberry from the bowl. ‘You’re usually at work by now.’