Embraceable You (Irish Hearts Series) (10 page)

"I said ‘love me,’ not ‘care for me.’ There’s a
huge distinction."

He tried to revive it. "Let’s give this a little time, Monique. Obviously you're having a bad night."

"More time? It’s been almost a year. If you don’t know by now, that you love me and only me and want to marry me, it’s not so."

"Don’t push me. We haven’t discussed marriage at all."

"Then let’s discuss it. Now." Monique sat on a nearby chair, beautiful and sexy in her nudity. He must be out of his effen' mind. She wanted him and he wanted… someone else.

He started, cleared his throat, and then tried again. "Now isn’t a good time for me. I have complications at work. Too many things on my mind." He knew that a breakup with Monique wouldn’t help his political standing in town, especially with the ones
in power who shared Monique’s family name. He wanted to prove the name Cassidy was as important – and powerful - as Fairchild, but now was not the time for a showdown.

Monique stood, hands on her slim hips. "No time for a discussion about marriage to someone you supposedly love? Frankly Zach, work shouldn’t have a thing to do with us. Unless you’re using me and my family influence."

"Damn it woman! You know that’s not true!" Zach glared at her, all flushed and gorgeous in her anger. And he felt like the biggest fraud in the world. He’d made a large mistake getting involved with her after the rescue, but it had been so natural. Of course, he cared for her and she was absolutely beautiful. He looked away from her intense stare. He was yet another man who had succumbed to a beautiful woman. Fool that he was.

He understood that Monique was grateful to him and didn’t even try to hide her love for the man who saved her life. He should have resisted because she was the vulnerable one. Then.  But he hadn’t been able to resist her seductive little body. Actually, until now, he hadn’t even tried.

He placed one muscled arm on the wall beside the window and looked out. Subconsciously his gaze went to the highway.
When would she return?

The only person he couldn’t get out of his mind, even with Monique standing before him, nude and enticing, was Siena. She’d left town a week ago without a word. Left the key and the cats in George’s care. He said she’d be back, but would she? And when?

In a rash of unreasonableness he wanted to go after her, assuming she was in Boston. But he couldn’t assume anything – where she was, why she left, how long she’d be gone, and oh God,
if
she’d return. He only knew one thing, and that’s how he felt when he kissed her and lay next to her. Just holding her in his arms linked them to some long-lost, deep connection. Then, suddenly, Siena was busy and gone, with no warning. And now he wanted her back.

"I’m done. Finished. It’s over."

Zach snapped back into the room.

Monique fastened her sheer, lacy bra. "No, don’t try to stop me." She held out her hand mockingly to Zach as if he were trying to hold her.

He stood beside the bed of rumpled sheets, the bed where they'd just made love. Or rather, just had sex.

Void of feelings, he watched Monique get dressed. He knew she would leave, but he didn’t try to stop her at all. He really didn’t care. Didn't even care about the political ramifications.

She turned her back to him and eased up her thong, making sure he had a good view of her rear. "I know you’re full of regrets, but this is for the best, Zach. For both of us." She bent over and tugged on leggings and a short skirt. Last, she pulled her hand-knit fisherman’s sweater over her head, hiding those small, perky breasts that he had tongue-teased many times. "Don’t bother to call. I won’t be available." She grabbed her coat and slammed the door.

He stood there in a stupor, watching his relationship and maybe his career, whisk out the door. And he didn’t do one damn thing to stop it. Over and done.

He cared, and he didn’t. He loved Monique in a certain way. After all he’d saved her life. But he really wasn’t passionate about her any more. Which she knew. He felt like the ass that he was, but he simply didn’t care.

Where the hell was Siena? She’d been gone all week and nobody knew anything about where she was or how she was doing. 

Zach walked naked around the room. He was unable to concentrate and didn’t feel at all proud of what he’d done, or not done. He decided to work out, pump some iron, punch a bag, let out some steam. If she didn’t return soon, by tomorrow, he’d try to find her. Logically, he’d start in Boston. He’d go after her, damn it, and prove . . . what? That he wanted her? Yes, he wanted every inch of her.

It was near dark when Siena drove into town. He could see her moving about the shop. She’d returned but hadn’t bothered to call, to say Howdy or Kiss My Ass. 'Course she hadn't called to say she was leaving, either. She owed him… nothing.

He stood across the street at the Buff Body Shoppe’s windows, eyes straining to follow her image. She looked up and his heart pounded in his ears. Could she see him? No, too far away.

He could tell her hair was slightly messy. His fingers itched to dig into it. She cradled a bag against her breasts, just where he wanted to be. She went back out to the car for more bags.  Her slim legs moved fast as she crossed the icy walk. He longed to feel those long legs around him. Again.

If he approached her tonight, would her violet eyes give him the invitation he wanted? Would she receive his signals? And respond with the desire he felt for her?

He unconsciously knotted his fists. Then, feeling the tension, he released them, pumped them again, trying to relax. He had to go. Just to talk. And see if she had any response.

He walked out into the cold night, toward her, deliberately and with purpose.

Siena dumped a large bag containing her sweaters by the stairs and turned to go get more things from the car.
She heard a noise at the door followed by that damned old-fashioned bell - taa-ding. And there he was.

Zach.

A sprinkling of snow framed his shoulders, emphasizing their breadth. She hadn’t expected to see him so soon after arriving. He looked so mature, so masculine. Interesting how her memory of Zach the rebel came up first. She felt like jelly inside. But her little voice said, Hel-lo Hottie.

He came in, moving smoothly like a large cat, bringing with him the smell of fresh, cold air and masculine desire. But his eyes couldn’t hide a smoldering heat that threatened to engulf her. He was an enigma, familiar yet a stranger. He was a man, someone others looked up to, but there was a trace of the young rebel she once knew and loved. He stood in strength, with eyes, body, hands.

"Siena. I -- missed you. Where have you been?"

"Zach," she breathed his name and took a step toward him. "Come on in. Good to see you. Again."

There was something special in his expression, the intensity of his eyes, dark and sexy. She could almost hear him say, let’s get it on. That’s what she wanted to hear from him because that’s what she feeling, too.

She reached out to him, not knowing exactly why.

He took her right hand in his left, lacing their fingers. She felt his touch throughout her body and all reasonable thoughts flew out the door. Admittedly she had been doubtful at the thoughts of returning. Now she felt wildly happy to be here in this moment. She was only capable right now of feeling, of being in the moment with Zach.

She moved closer. He brought their hands to his mouth and kissed hers with gentle, moist lips. "Didn’t know where you were or if you’d return. I… was worried about you."

"You’re probably the main reason I’m here." She smiled faintly. "I can’t really explain it because there’s nothing here that I really need. Except you."

"I wanted you to come back. I even considered going after you."

She shrugged. "I had to close my apartment."

"If I were honest, I’d say good."

"I’m not sure if this is right, Zach. You and me . . ."

"What’s not right is that we waited so long. All those years, apart."

"But what about Monique? No matter what you say, I’m hearing her name linked to yours."

He gave a resigned response. "She’s history. It’s over. I swear."

She looked down. "I think I must be the other woman."

"You’re
the only
woman." He put his lips lightly on hers and whispered, "I want you, Siena. Only you. More than ever."

She loved the taste of him, loved his fragrance, loved the way he touched her. When he pressed his words against her skin, she could feel herself slipping, completely and willingly, into his spell.

He kissed her knuckles. "I’d like to continue what we started so many years ago. Pick it up and run with it."

"It’s just a fantasy, Zach, a dream held over for all these years. Too much has happened. To both of us."

He slipped his hands under her coat and around her ribs. "Siena, let’s see why it’s lasted, why I still want you. I know you feel it, too."

She didn’t answer. Couldn’t. She felt hot all over and her mouth was dry.

"It’s always been just us Siena . . ." His words simmered softly against her lips.

She knew he was right. No one else understood them. That’s what they used to say. They couldn't trust anyone else. She smiled. That’s what all teens say to verify what they do.
It’s us against the world.
True or not, that was their mantra. They believed it then. Maybe it was still true.

Slowly she scooted away from Zach. She held up one finger, indicating for him to wait.  Her eyes remained on his, taunting and questioning at the same time. She backed to the shop door and with one hand, locked it and switched off the light. They stood in the dark for a moment.

"Siena, say yes – "

"Zach
. . . I don't know. It might ruin everything  – "

His voice was soft and flowing. "It might make everything right."

"We’re just old friends. After a dream."

"Siena." He moved toward her. "Shut. Up."

There was no sound but breathing. As one.

The anticipation between them was strong as an electric current. Siena could make out his broad-shouldered shape. She walked slowly to him.
When they were breathlessly close, she put both hands on his shoulders and kissed him boldly, strongly.

That should answer any lingering questions about her desires for him. Certainly, when she touched him, smelled him, felt his lips on hers, she melted against him, knowing exactly what that would mean
. . . and not thinking or caring about anything or anyone else.

He returned the kiss and murmured something against her lips, but she couldn’t hear it. Her heart was pounding like a bass drum in her ears, blocking other sounds. She wanted to ride him to the rhythm of her heartbeat. Hard and fast.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He smelled of sweet cold air and the sensation assured her he was real this time, not a fantasy occupying her imagination at a stoplight. Not a misty, half-exhausted memory of one passionate night. Zach was here, now, embracing her, kissing her deeply, his tongue seeking more. And more was what she wanted, too.

While they kissed, they feverishly dropped their jackets to the floor. They moved deeper into the shop, kissing, groping, playfully dancing. She raised her arms, allowing her breasts to press teasingly against his chest. She leaned her head back and laughed as he kissed her neck, his tongue making a moist trail to the pulsing apex of her throat. Then he moved to tickle her earlobe with his tongue. God, she was tingling all over.

He molded his hard body to hers, front to front all the way down. She was liquid as his hands roamed her back and over her ass. He kissed her with such urgency that she didn’t see how they could make it upstairs. Her heart tripped. The thought of rolling around here, making love in the lace shop was exciting. Alluring. Forbidden.

Siena slumped in his arms, her hands reaching around his hips, pressing them tightly to hers. She felt the heat of his body, the pounding of his heart against hers
, the boldness of his erection. She bent to kiss his chest. She moved her kisses to his neck and made a moist trail along his pulsing throat. She breathed deeply as if trying to infuse his essence into her. But she would only be satisfied with a forceful part of him completely inside her.

He smelled all masculine and fresh, like she remembered him so long ago. Everything seemed so familiar, and so right. He’d been here all along, in her dreams, just like this.

He kissed her hair, her forehead, and ever so softly, her eyelids. With one finger, he drew a line lightly down her cheek as if tracing her face. When he lifted her chin, she smiled into his kiss and opened her lips slightly, inviting and enticing him. He ran his tongue along her upper lip, tracing the sweetheart shape, pausing occasionally to tease and dip inside. She felt a heated spear of desire in her belly that darted downward and dug in deep, directly between her legs.  She rubbed brazenly against him with a little sigh.  "Zach, come on – "

"Oh God, Siena . . ."

"Yes, yes . . ." she said in a soft hissing sound.