The Innocent Behind the Scandal (The Marchetti Dynasty 2)

In one way, she was safe from becoming emotionally invested in Maks Marchetti. She’d never allow herself to wish for something like happiness with him because he wasn’t offering it. And because she didn’t deserve it.

Maks spoke, scattering her thoughts. ‘I’m not offering long-term anything, Zoe. I’m a loner, and I’ve been reliably informed that I’m emotionally unavailable. You’re confusing emotion with sex. What we shared was intense, but it was purely physical.’

Zoe felt the hardness of his muscles under her buttocks. He smelled of citrus and something more potent. An exotic mix.

‘I can prove it to you if you like?’ he said.

His hand was on her back, fingers seeking and finding the gap between her shirt and jeans, exploring, finding naked skin. Already she was melting. Breathless.

‘Can you?’

She couldn’t even

really care that she sounded as if she desperately wanted him to prove it to her.

He nodded. His fingers were on the clasp of her bra now, and it was undone before she could take another breath. He pulled her closer, reaching around to cup one bare breast under its lace cup. She sucked in a breath. Her nipple was trapped between his fingers, stiffening into a sharp point of need.

With his other hand he cupped her jaw, drawing her face to his. ‘Let me show you how it can be...trust me, Zoe.’

Trust me.

Like last night, those words should be restoring sanity to her brain like a bucket of cold water, but she couldn’t seem to make herself care. Maybe Maks was right and all this was purely physical. It would burn out and they would go their separate ways. Right now, Zoe was all too tempted to just trust in Maks—again.

A weakness. She ignored the voice.

She touched his jaw with her hand, before spearing his short hair with her fingers. ‘Okay, then, let’s do this.’

What was it about him that seemed to ignite some spark within her, an urge to rebel, throw caution to the wind?

She knew she didn’t really want to explore the answer to that as Maks’s mouth covered hers and he pushed the suitcase off the bed.

It fell to the floor, spilling its contents. She wasn’t going anywhere.

* * *

Maks looked at Zoe, sleeping on the bed. Morning had turned into afternoon, and he was in danger of forgetting about the outside world entirely. She was on her back, the sheet pulled up to her waist. Her skin was still slightly flushed. Breasts plump, with those small, tight pink nipples. His body reacted to the memory of how they’d felt on his tongue, how they’d tasted. How he could make them harder by sucking...

Dio. What was happening to him? He never, never encouraged a woman to stay beyond one night. If they saw each other again it was strictly while their mutual chemistry lasted and through no encouragement on Maks’s part. That was why he’d always chosen discreet, independent women.

But he’d never met one as independent as Zoe.

She would be on her way back to London right now if he hadn’t woken up, incensed to find her gone. For the first time he hadn’t been secretly relieved that a woman had left his bed. He’d felt...irritated. Exposed.

What was happening here was way off the charts of Maks’s usual modus operandi. But then Zoe was different. And this chemistry... He’d never experienced anything like it.

They’d spent the morning in bed, and it had eclipsed the previous night ten times over. Maks had never come as hard. Or as often. And he didn’t know if he’d ever get used to seeing the look of wonder on Zoe’s face when she climaxed—as if she’d discovered some ancient secret wonder.

She was a novice, reminded an inner voice. Her awe will fade. The chemistry will fade. She’s just a woman.

As if hearing his thoughts, she stirred on the bed and it had an immediate effect on Maks’s body. She opened her eyes, slumberous. He watched as she registered where she was, and who she was with, when her eyes landed on him. They narrowed on his chest and then moved down to where his body was reacting forcibly under her blue/green gaze.

She moved over onto her side and rested her head on her hand. For a second she surprised Maks with how assured she looked. But then she smiled, and it was all at once shy and bold. She pulled the sheet back and he could see the curve of her body, the cluster of curls at the top of her thighs.

‘Where are you going?’ she asked.

He smiled. ‘Nowhere.’

The outside world was overrated.