Snowbound Seduction

Since her grandmother’s death just before she had left university and she and Jennie and Susan had come to London, she had stopped returning home to Kent for Christmas. There had been no point. Her sisters were wrapped up in their own lives and virtual strangers to her now, and in previous years her mother had spent every Christmas re-emphasising in word and deed what a failure she considered her youngest daughter. Without her beloved grandmother as a buffer, home would have been unendurable.

From the first, she had maintained she was perfectly happy to stay at the flat and enjoy a quiet Christmas, but her friends wouldn’t hear of it. Jennie and Susan had taken it in turns to invite her to their respective homes, and as both girls came from large friendly families the Christmas break had turned into something to look forward to rather than dread. Strangely, though, she found she missed her grandmother more at Christmas time than any other. Or perhaps it wasn’t so strange.

Zac brought her attention back to himself when he said, ‘Christmas in my home town is always a big deal. Snow, carols, church on Christmas Day, followed by too big a lunch so we have to walk the dogs for hours in the afternoon to work up an appetite for high tea.’ His voice was easy, relaxed, but she was aware his gaze was tight on her face.

Rachel got the feeling he was talking to give her time to compose herself, and she found she needed it. Taking a deep breath, she said, ‘Snow guaranteed, I suppose? It’s very hit and miss here in the south of England. Susan lives near Scotland, though, and last year it was Christmas-card stuff. We even went on a horse-drawn sleigh ride.’

‘You spent Christmas with Susan’s family last year? You didn’t go home?’

Rachel bit her lip. She might have known he would pick up on it. Zac didn’t miss a thing. ‘No, I didn’t go home.’

He made no further comment, instead taking the conversation into less personal paths. They had covered politics, music, books and even the current economic climate by the time dessert—roasted peaches with butterscotch—was finished.

And gradually Rachel found she’d relaxed, mainly because it was impossible not to with Zac. He was a fascinating and congenial dinner companion with a slightly wicked sense of humour, which was often directed against himself. She might have found this endearing but for the fact Giles had done the same thing, a charming ploy to hook the latest fish in Giles’s case. As for Zac? Who knew?

Not that it mattered, she told herself, laughing at something he’d said. She wasn’t involved with this man, unlike Giles, and didn’t have to concern herself with whether he was the genuine article or not. After the champagne cocktail and two glasses of excellent wine, followed by a liqueur with her coffee, she’d come to the decision she had got into the habit of taking herself and the world in general too seriously. She was in fabulous surroundings with a drop-dead-gorgeous man on an evening out that definitely wouldn’t be repeated—she was determined about that even if he asked for another date, which she doubted—and she should live for the moment.

And to be honest, she admitted to herself as she popped one of the to-die-for hand-made chocolates they’d brought with the coffee into her mouth, there was

something very nice in being the recipient of so many envious female glances during the evening. Especially after the knock her ego had taken in the last months. Every woman who’d caught sight of Zac had done a double take. While that might become annoying in time, for a one-off like this evening it made her feel like the cat with the cream. It had been months since she’d felt as light-hearted as she did right now, months since she’d laughed without having to force the sound. Whether it was an act or not, Zac was very good at what he did. She had to give him that.

When Zac ordered more liqueurs and coffee Rachel didn’t object, even though she realised with a little jolt of surprise it was nearly ten o’clock. The time had flown by, and when eventually Zac called the waiter over and settled the bill, she glanced at her watch and saw another hour had passed. Zac stood up and pulled out her chair for her, taking her arm as they walked out of the restaurant into the huge foyer beyond. When he helped her on with her coat, his tall muscular physique seemed to dwarf everybody around him, and the attractive blonde receptionist couldn’t take her eyes off him, not that Zac appeared to notice. She didn’t doubt he had, though.

It was cold outside but the rain clouds had blown away and the sky was high and pierced with stars. The fresh night air made her realise she was feeling the effects of the wine and liqueurs, and she told herself she needed to keep her wits about her. She suddenly felt uncomfortably vulnerable.

The taxi Zac had ordered when he’d paid the bill was waiting at the kerb. He took her arm again as he helped her into the car and although it was nothing but a polite gesture, the pressure of his hand on her body made her cheeks flush. Zac had taken her briefcase from the cloakroom attendant and as he slung it onto his side of the seat she wished it was between them. As it was, a hard male thigh rested against hers and his arm stretched along the top of the seat behind her. She wondered if he would try for a goodnight kiss and her heart thumped.

‘I’m sorry I’ve kept you so late. Will you be up to the early hours?’ he asked softly, glancing down at her.

She tried to relax her fingers, which were clenched together in her lap. ‘I’m sorry?’ she said, having only half heard him.

‘You said you had work to do,’ he reminded her.

She had. Amazingly she’d forgotten. Jeff had asked her to go over the failed project with a fine-toothed comb and detail the sales team’s part in the disaster for a report he had to submit to the managing director by the end of the week. ‘What I have to do will take a while.’ And a clear head. Plenty of black coffee when she got in. ‘We lost a lucrative contract due to certain folk refusing to pull their weight, and my boss needs the facts and figures for his boss.’

He raised his brows. ‘So you really do have to work?’

‘I told you,’ she said reprovingly.

He nodded. ‘So you did, but I suspected it was an excuse not to have dinner with me.’

‘Well, I might have said the same anyway but tonight it does happen to be true.’

He gave a roar of a laugh that brought a smile to her lips. ‘And was the ordeal so terrible?’ he asked wryly.

‘The meal was very nice,’ she said primly. ‘Thank you.’

‘And the company?’ he persisted. ‘Was that very nice too?’

‘Tolerable.’ But she smiled again to soften the word. She had enjoyed herself despite all expectations, and it had been seductively gratifying to be sought out by a man like Zac.

The edges of his mouth curved up. ‘Tolerable enough to be repeated?’

Her heart had just about settled into its normal pattern; now it pounded like a sledgehammer again. She shook her head quickly. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t. But thank you.’

‘Yes, you can. You just say, “Thank you, Zac. That would be great,” and the job’s done. Simple.’

Nothing was simple with Zac Lawson. And with him so close and the scent and warmth of him enfolding her, it was getting more complicated by the second. Rachel took a deep breath. This had to be nipped in the bud, right now. ‘What I mean is—’