Mr One-Night Stand

‘Maybe.’

Her smile grew, one hand dropping to stroke over her bump. ‘I am well,’ she said. ‘I never thought I was the maternal type. It’s funny what love can do to you.’

Love. There was that word again.

‘I’m glad. You were always too good for me.’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t think that was ever the case.’

‘No?’

He didn’t believe her—not in the slightest. But he wasn’t the same man he’d been then. He could feel it. His concern for Jennifer told him as much.

Bloody Jennifer—she needed to eat.

‘Hold that thought.’

He took up his mobile and issued Colin with a text.

Check she’s still at work. If she is, take her food. She won’t say no to you.

She’d kill him. But he didn’t care.

He placed his mobile back down and looked at Zara with fresh eyes. She was beautiful, she was clever, and they’d got along well. So how come she’d never got under his skin in the same way?

‘Why didn’t we work out?’

Her eyes widened, and he couldn’t blame her. He’d never indulged in the personal—not when it came to conversation—not until Jennifer.

‘What? You mean besides the fact you always told me you didn’t want anything serious?’

‘Besides that.’

She took a sip of water, her eyes assessing him. ‘You want the truth?’

He nodded. ‘The whole ugly lot.’

‘I never felt like you were fully with me,’ she said softly, her gaze reminiscent. ‘Your mind was always on the next big project, your next acquisition, your next whatever. You couldn’t live in the moment and I couldn’t compete with it.’

He let her words sink in, comparing them to how he felt when he was with Jennifer, how he wanted to draw out each and every moment, how she filled his mind whether he was with her or not...

‘It’s far easier to cope with you being distracted when we’re just friends.’

His phone buzzed with a reply from Colin. He was on it.

‘Take now, for example.’ She gestured to his phone. ‘Another big project, by any chance?’

He met her eyes, the answer sticking in his throat, and her brow furrowed with his hesitation. ‘It’s not, is it?’

He shook his head.

‘Well, I’ll be...’ she said, a grin breaking across her face with dawning realisation. ‘Someone’s managed to crack the great Marcus Wright.’

Crack?

It wasn’t a bad way to put it. He certainly felt as if someone had ripped him apart and put him back together all wrong. ‘It seems that way.’

‘Now, this I have to hear.’ Zara settled back into her seat, making herself nice and comfortable.