The Innocent Behind the Scandal (The Marchetti Dynasty 2)
But it would have to wait.
He made a face. ‘That was Sharif on the phone. I have to call him back and make a few other calls. I might be a while.’
* * *
Zoe battled a sense of disappointment that was mixed with relief. She hadn’t expected that conversation just now to reveal so much of herself, or to hear him reveal what he had. It made her feel as if a layer of skin had been pulled back.
She said, as brightly as she could, ‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll probably have an early night—the adrenalin is catching up with me.’
When Zoe got back to her room she leant against
the door, taking a breath. Maks was so...distracting. All-consuming. He demanded nothing less than total investment. Even during the day today, when she’d been concentrating so hard on keeping Pierre happy, she’d been aware of him. And now she was actually exhausted. And yet at the same time still fizzing with energy.
She ordered a light supper, hoping that might help dissipate the energy, but when she’d finished she felt the same. Tired but alive.
She’d worked on her first photo shoot today!
A sudden idea popped into her head and she changed into her running clothes. She realised it was too dark to head out onto the streets of an unfamiliar city, so she pulled her hair into a ponytail and went in search of the gym, which was in the basement of the hotel.
At this time of the evening it was empty, and Zoe warmed up before heading towards a punchbag. She hated the gym, but she loved running and she loved boxing.
After a solid ten minutes of throwing high kicks and punches at the bag, Zoe felt her muscles starting to burn and her face was hot. She hadn’t heard a sound, so when a voice came from behind her to say, ‘Fancy a sparring partner?’ she almost jumped out of her skin.
She whirled around, breathing heavily. Maks was standing a few feet away, with a small towel around his neck, in sweatpants and a T-shirt that left little to the imagination.
‘Um...’ It was hard to speak when she was hyperventilating. ‘I need a break and some water...you go ahead.’
On wobbly legs Zoe went over to a nearby water machine and took off her gloves, poured herself some water. She took a big sip before she dared to look around again. Maks was squaring up to the other punchbag, gloves on his hands.
He said over his shoulder, ‘I rang your room but there was no answer, I figured you were asleep.’
Zoe made some kind of incoherent breathless mumble in response and drank him in greedily while he wasn’t looking. Lord, but he was beautiful. All taut, coiled energy. Graceful, too, for such a big man. His technique was perfect—he was clearly experienced.
When she’d cooled down a little, Zoe put her gloves on again and went back to her punchbag. Maks was still pounding his bag, lost in his own world. Zoe almost felt she was intruding.
She got back to her own workout, but was too aware of Maks in her peripheral vision. He stopped and she heard him breathing. She tried to pretend that every cell in her body wasn’t swivelling towards him like the bud of a flower opening to the sun.
‘You’re good.’
She stopped and turned around. She shrugged. ‘Not in your league. There’s a boxing gym near me. I started to go there after—’ She stopped, feeling the creeping shame she always felt when she thought of her weakness.
‘After your ex-boyfriend?’
Maks’s voice was like steel.
Zoe nodded. ‘I went to learn self-defence, but I found sparring and boxing surprisingly satisfying.’
Maks tugged off his gloves and picked up a couple of punch pads. ‘Come on—practice on me.’
‘I’m not that good...really.’
Maks started to move around her. ‘Come on, Collins, show me what you’ve got.’
Zoe rolled her eyes but took up her stance, trying to remember to stay on the balls of her feet and mobile. Maks started off easy on her, but as she matched him he got faster and more unpredictable, forcing her to duck and react more quickly.
Finally he stopped and stepped back. They were both breathing heavily. Zoe more than Maks. She wished she could take off her top, but she only had a sports bra underneath.
As if reading her mind, though, Maks put down the pads and pulled off his own shirt. He must have seen the look on her face. ‘Do you mind?’