At the Pleasure of the President (The Perfect Gentlemen 5)

If she could take his mind off his troubles for even a second, she would do anything.

“Hey. Want some company?” She spoke in soft, low tones, not wanting to startle him.

He looked over his shoulder, eyes fastening on her. For a moment he stared, that hungry, predatory part of himself he always tried to hide more than visible in the way he watched her. It made her feel like prey, but the best kind, the loved kind. Her body heated in anticipation, and she could already feel her nipples hardening under his gaze.

Their lovemaking would be rough and fast. He would reach out for her and she wouldn’t have another second to think. His mouth would fasten on hers as he pressed her against the wall of the shower. He wouldn’t say a word. He would let his cock speak for him and give her what she needed. She was ready. In fact, she was always ready for him.

Then he blinked, and his expression disappeared, replaced with something polite and blank she often saw in meetings when he was listening to politicians complain. He stood upright and stepped out of the shower, leaving it on while he reached for a towel.

“I’m done. It’s all yours.” He wrapped the terrycloth around his waist and strode to the closet.

Liz stared after him, embarrassment flooding her system. “Zack, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t look up, merely dried himself off with short jerks over his body. “The list is long and varied.”

A second before she’d felt perfectly happy in nothing but her own skin. Now she reached for a robe, wanting to cover up as quickly as possible. She wasn’t going to hop in that shower by herself like nothing was happening. Maybe she’d read him wrong and he didn’t need sex tonight. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He dropped the towel and started toward the bedroom without a backward glance. “I want to sleep, Elizabeth. I want to rest. I don’t know if you remember this, but I have a job and it can be stressful.”

Wow. She was surprised at how much his cold sarcasm hurt. She wasn’t some delicate flower who wilted at the first sign of anger, but Zack was supposed to be her sanctuary.

What had happened between the time he’d held her while she cried and now?

Did he blame her? Was this a case of wanting to shoot the messenger for the news she’d carried?

She turned off the shower and followed him out. He didn’t bother with pajamas. He stalked through the bedroom leaving every inch of his body on display. He pulled back the covers and climbed into bed, reaching up and turning off the lamp without looking her way.

Silvery moonlight illuminated the room, giving the whole world a ghostly glow. It might have been better to be plunged into darkness rather than see the dismissive way Zack turned over, giving her his back.

The silence between them felt overwhelming.

“Are you getting into bed or staying up for a while?” Zack didn’t turn to regard her. “If you need to work, make sure you close the door behind you. I have an early morning meeting I’d like to be rested for.”

She wanted to talk, needed to ask him what had gone wrong, but she’d been around Zack long enough to know what that flat tone meant. He was done and nothing would move him. He would talk when he wanted to, and all she would do was start a fight.

Maybe they both needed some space.

“I’ll go back to my place for the night.” But as she said the words, she knew she couldn’t.

He sat up, and even in the dim light she could see his eyes narrow on her. “Where the Russian mobster visited you? You want to sleep in a place you know isn’t safe?”

“You’re right. I’ll go to a hotel or stay with Gus. I don’t want to bother you. I’ll probably toss and turn all night and like you said, you need your sleep.”

“If you leave, you’ll take an escort,” he insisted. “Do you want me to wake one of the Secret Service agents and let him know he’ll have to stand outside of wherever it is you choose to sleep?”

“No. I’ll find one of the other bedrooms around here. I don’t need an agent standing outside the door if I stay close.” She wasn’t getting into bed with a man who obviously didn’t want her there.

“What is this about?” he asked with a lengthy sigh that let her know he wasn’t pleased with the conversation.

“I’m not stupid, Zack. I can read your body language, and I certainly know that tone you’re using. I’m trying to be respectful because I know you’re having a rough day, but I’m not a doormat. You made it clear you want to sleep and you don’t want company. I’ll go.”

“I never said I wanted to kick you out of our bedroom.”

“It’s not our bedroom,” she reminded. “It’s yours and you have the right to have whoever you would like stay here.”

He cursed under his breath. “I didn’t want sex in the shower. That’s all. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

She tried to calm the sinking feeling in her gut that something more was going on. “Then you could have told me that instead of giving me the cold shoulder.”

“Please come to bed, Elizabeth.”

She stood still for a moment, unsure what she should do. The last thing they needed tonight was a fight.

“I’m sorry I was irritated,” he continued. “Will you please come to bed? I won’t sleep well without you.”

The words were sweet, but she still didn’t like the way he said them. They weren’t rude or snarky. But they weren’t inviting or warm, either. It was as if he was forcing himself to say something he knew she wanted to hear.

Still, it had been a terrible day, and her leaving to sleep in another room wouldn’t solve anything. In fact, it might only make this unexpected crack between them become something more like a rift.

“Fine. I’ll get ready.”

She made her way to the bathroom and forced herself to go through the motions of preparing for bed. Her mind whirled, crafting a million different excuses for his behavior. Zack was normally very thoughtful. She didn’t usually get treated to the cold bastard part of the man, but it was inevitable that he would be in a funk and she would get the downdraft of it at some point. Maybe she shouldn’t take it personally.

This was what it meant to be truly intimate with someone. She would put up with his crappy moods from time to time, just like he would deal with hers. This particular snit had come at a bad time, but he’d apologized. She had to accept that. If she walked back into the bedroom and fought with him, she would do nothing but pile on to their problems.

Besides, they would only sleep tonight. That much was for sure. He was obviously not in the mood. Well, thanks to him, neither was she.

Liz stepped lightly back into the bedroom to find him sitting up in bed, his gaze steady on her. He pulled back the covers. Grateful that she’d put on pajamas, she dropped her robe and slid in beside him.

Despite his sour mood, she would still feel better sleeping next to him.

So why when he wrapped his arms around her and drew her close did his arms suddenly feel like a cage?

Chapter Fourteen

Sara glanced at the clock beside the bed. Almost midnight. She wasn’t getting to sleep any time soon. Her brain simply would not shut down. She couldn’t stop worrying about everything that had happened in the last few days.

And she couldn’t stop thinking about Mad.

Sighing, she set her book on the nightstand because she’d spent the last hour staring at the page, unable to absorb the words in front of her.

It was time to face a few hard facts: Ivan Krylov was real and dangerous. It still shocked Sara that he’d been in Liz’s apartment, terrifying the holy hell out of her, mere hours ago. The same Ivan Krylov who’d been in Mad’s home the night before he’d broken up with her. After a simple chat with the Russian mobster, Liz had been ready to call off all her plans.

Rather like Maddox had done after being beaten nearly to death.