Sweet Home Carolina (30 page)

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Authors: Patricia Rice

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“I have spoken with your contractor. He will have the
ceiling down this weekend.”

“My contractor?” She was beginning to sound like the parrot
Jo claimed Louisa was.

The car purred into motion. She could swear Zack purred with
it.

“Yes, the one who wants to work on the mill offices. He
wishes to show how good he is. I cannot stay in your charming cottage until he
removes the old ceiling.”

Amy started to panic as the car turned down the road toward
Asheville and away from town. Zack had blessedly kept his distance all week,
but his moods were mercurial. “Josh and Louisa expect me to pick them up at
five.”

“They will be happy to see your sister and mama, no?”

“Jo? Of course, but….” Finally recognizing the satisfied
gleam in his eyes, she crossed her arms and glared. “What have you done now?”

He shrugged. “Only provided an evening of shopping. That is
not so unpleasant, is it? We go to the home improvement store, look at some
paint chips, have a nice dinner….”

His accent had become very French, and Amy’s wolf alert
shrilled.

But she knew how to handle Zack. And she was dying to look
at paint chips.

Sitting back in the comfortable seat, she dreamed of an
evening discussing cobalt tile and nickel-plated fixtures with a man who
actually knew what she was talking about. She had set aside a few dollars from
the sale of her house for the most pressing repairs.

She would simply have to think of Josh and Louisa when Zack
flashed his thousand-kilowatt smile and chuckled in that knowing way of his.
And she wouldn’t notice how his tailored coat clung to his muscled shoulders.
Or how his long fingers felt cupped around her bare elbow.

Paint chips, she told herself firmly. This was all about
paint chips.

Twenty-four

“No, no, with the golden oak, you want the softer colors the
blue-greens, the pale yellows, not the jewel tones.” Zack snatched the cobalt
chip from Amy’s hand and deposited it in his coat pocket.

Even disagreeing about color with Zack was exciting. His
passion for her home and the creative light burning in his eyes was sexier than
the deliberately seductive smiles he’d used before. The more caught up he
became in the process, the more his hands brushed hers, and the closer he slid
to her in the leather booth of the restaurant, rearranging the chips and
samples. When he became exasperated with her, he’d flick her earrings, and the
reminder of shared kisses flared between them.

It was quite possible she was disagreeing with him just to
prolong the exchange, to feel his thigh pressing against hers as he reached for
a piece she moved out of his way. She was officially out of her mind and loving
every minute of it.

“With the right shade of blue-green, I can still use cobalt
accents. Give me back that swatch.” Amy leaned across him, reaching for his
jacket pocket.

Zack grabbed her waist and nibbled on her ear until she
thought she’d have to slide under the table. She retaliated by blowing on the
strong, brown neck rising from the open collar of his shirt. He laughed and
returned her to her seat. She waved the confiscated swatch in his face.

Away from work, away from the duties of parenthood, away
from any responsibility at all, she felt as if the weight of the world was off
her shoulders and she could open up to the fun she’d denied herself for so
long. She adored playing with colors and fabrics, and Zack had swirled her
through acres of them in a few short hours. No man she knew could endure that
much nesting.

“Shiny cobalt tile,” he said sternly. “Now, finish your wine
or I will not show you my next surprise.”

“Next surprise?” She sipped the extravagant chardonnay he’d
ordered with their dinner. She’d never learned to be much of a wine drinker,
but she could come to appreciate it in surroundings like these. Jo had told her
about the restaurant with the fish murals on the ceiling and the leather
booths, with real linen and real silver on the tables, but she hadn’t thought
she’d ever have the opportunity to eat here. Evan had always preferred to
entertain at home, where she did the cooking.

She swirled the wine in the glass, relaxed on the
comfortable bench seat, and absorbed the giddy ambience of fine food and an
attentive, attractive man. For the first time since the divorce, it felt
exciting to be single and carefree. “I don’t need any surprises,” she decided.
“I just want to sit here and pretend this will last forever.”

“No, you will miss tucking in little Louisa and teasing Josh
and the patter of little footsteps in the morning,” he corrected. “But it is
necessary to take these breaks to appreciate what you have.”

Amy looked at him in amazement. He was not only right, but
dead serious, and she knew he was speaking from experience. He still missed his
daughter. Her eyes misted in sympathy, and she reached over to pat his hand.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “I needed this. You’re a very
wise man.”

“No,” he stoutly denied, “I’m a loose cannon, but that’s
neither here nor there. Would you like dessert, or shall we go on?”

She had thought he would take advantage of her
sentimentality to make practiced love to her. She’d almost been hoping for it.
After that explosive kiss and his revelations last weekend, she knew she was
asking for trouble by being anywhere near him.

But tonight.… Tonight she was having second thoughts.
Unfortunately, apparently, so was he.

“I can’t eat another bite,” she admitted, smothering her
disappointment. Give her an inch, and she wanted it all. She knew better. She
would try to just enjoy whatever else he proposed for the evening without
setting her future-planning meter into operation.

Smash that planner. Relax, she reminded herself.

Leaving cash on the table, Zack stood and held out his hand.
“Come along, you will enjoy this.”

She could play a little while longer, but if he meant to
take her to one of those noisy bars Jo used to frequent, she wouldn’t do much
relaxing. She had two left feet and no interest in country music. But he’d been
so patient with her, she could easily agree to follow him anywhere.

“Jo and Mama don’t mind putting the kids to bed?” she asked,
wishing she still had a cell phone to check on them.

As if reading her mind, Zack handed her his. “They assured
me everyone will be fine, but call and see, just in case.”

With his hand heating the small of her back, Amy punched in
Jo’s number and slid into the Bentley.

By the time she had said good night to Josh and was
reassured her small world was well, Zack had pulled the car up to a valet
stand. She hadn’t been paying attention to their route, but the stones of the
elegant old lodge were unmistakable.

“The Grove Park?” she asked dubiously. She’d set up Evan’s
VIP guests at the inn, but she’d never even seen the spa. She’d always found
better things to do with her time and money — most of them involving her
family.

“A surprise party for two,” he said firmly, steering her
toward the spa entrance. “It is time you remember that you are a person, too,
and you deserve occasional pampering.”

Passing by the salon, a hundred thoughts raced frantically
through her head, but she didn’t have the presence of mind to utter one of
them. The elegance overwhelmed her. As if he expected her to protest, Zack had
an attendant waiting at the entrance.

“She is already beautiful,” he told the smiling hostess.
“You will make her
feel
that way.”

“Of course, Mr. Saint-Etienne. All is as you requested.”

He’d requested the spa? When?

In a state of shock, Amy watched Zack stroll away in the
company of a male attendant. Obediently, she followed her hostess, unable to
think of a diplomatic manner of extricating herself, especially when her
curiosity about the spa screamed to be satisfied.

“That is so romantic,” the tall, blond, and gorgeous
attendant murmured. “No one has ever said anything like that to me.”

Amy tried to remember the last time anyone had called her
beautiful. Evan had occasionally nodded approvingly when she frosted her hair
and wore a designer suit, but she hadn’t looked like herself then.

Zack liked her natural looks, unstyled hair and all? The
possibility made her feel more feminine than she had in ages, and she looked
eagerly around her. Everyone should experience everything at least once, right?

Knowing how many beautiful women must come through these
doors, Amy was self-conscious as she undressed and donned robe and slippers.
Her hair looked as if she’d barbered it herself. Which she had. She’d snipped
the ragged ends when she didn’t have time to make an appointment. And her
fingernails! She clenched her fingers into fists to hide them. Evan was right.
She really had let herself go this past year.

The gracious attendant didn’t seem to notice as she led Amy
past inviting rooms sparsely occupied at this hour to a private room with an
enormous whirlpool bath and a massage table.

“Helga will take you from here. Enjoy!”

By the time Helga had questioned her enough to design the
perfect regimen for her obviously mistreated body, Amy figured the masseuse
knew more about her than she did herself.

Soaked in rose-scented waters, pounded with aromatic oils,
detoxified, and relaxed with soothing lighting and the gentle hush of a
waterfall, Amy fell asleep on the comfortable cot.

Hot towels laid over her back woke her gently. Eyes drifting
open, her gaze fell on a basket containing a bottle of champagne and chocolates
and a vase of roses that scented the air with a hint of cinnamon.

“Surprise,” a male voice murmured from the direction of the
whirlpool.

She jerked her head up, and for a moment, she had an
out-of-body experience, jolted out of her old self into some giddy new
stratosphere she’d never imagined.

Zack lay relaxed against the walls of the bath, his muscular
arms resting on the rim, his eyes half-closed, his overlong hair wet and
clinging in slight curls to his sun-darkened throat. His naked chest, covered
in wet whorls of hair, filled the space above the water.

Amy wasn’t fooled for a minute by his sleepy-eyed look. His
gaze was directed at her bare breasts, and he was smiling. She grabbed a towel
from her back and tried to wind it around in front of her. She frantically
looked around to see who was watching.

“Come in. The water is delightful,” he murmured. “The
attendants are paid to leave us alone, and the champagne is well chilled.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him what he could do
with his tools of seduction — when her driving need for new experiences kicked
in. This was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? Seduction, raw sex, no-strings-attached
lovemaking…. Right?

Absolutely! The new Amy was a woman of the world who
wouldn’t fall in love just because she shared physical pleasure with a man. She
was a grown-up now.

She didn’t think she could release the towel.

“I will close my eyes,” he suggested immediately, reading
her mind for the second time that night. “The water is beautiful.”

She didn’t think his closed eyes would help, but the promise
got her off the table and to the pool’s edge, where she stepped in with the
towel still around her. He was right. The warm, jetting, bubbling water was
heavenly. She slipped into the far end of the tub and nearly melted,
remembering to throw the towel to the tiles only at the last minute.

His toes slid along her legs, and she nearly shot right back
out of the water again.

“Relax,” he murmured again.

“That’s easy for you to say,” she muttered, taking the glass
of champagne he nudged in her direction. She closed her eyes to the sight of
Zack’s lightly furred chest and was grateful for the cover of bubbles on the
water’s surface as she sipped the chilled wine. Champagne went up her nose, and
she coughed.

“Sip, don’t slurp,” he said with a chuckle. “It is heady
stuff, this vintage. I ordered it just for this occasion. If you will come
here, I will feed you strawberries. I have been assured this is the very best
chocolate coating.”

Amy’s cheeks heated, and the delicate bubbles she’d been
drinking raced straight to her head. But parts of her that hadn’t been alive in
a long, long time were stirring with interest, and she couldn’t sit here with
her eyes closed forever.

When she opened them, she discovered Zack had slid around
the circular tub to sit beside her. A chocolate-covered strawberry dangled
temptingly near her lips.

“Open wide,” he whispered.

And she did. With just his wicked suggestion, her legs
parted to the excitement of jetting bubbles on vulnerable parts while she
opened her mouth to accept his offering. In doing so, she leaned back against
Zack’s arm. He shifted her to his shoulder, and they were side to side, naked
as the day they were born.

And she didn’t flee.

Far from fleeing, she wanted to climb into his lap and have
her way with him. She was so hot she thought she might internally combust if he
didn’t touch her in a vital spot soon.

He was all male muscle scented with some exotic spice the
masseuse must have applied, and that Amy wanted to lick right off of him. The
leg pressed along hers was all hard sinew and strength. His shoulder and arm
cradled her as if she were no more than a small doll. She loved being held by
this man, loved feeling alive and desirable like a woman instead of a machine.

She sucked the rest of the chocolate strawberry from its
stem and let the flavors melt in her mouth, mixing with the champagne. She
moaned a little with the pleasure of it, and he chuckled softly.

“You were meant for sensual pleasures, my Amy.” His long
finger reached to caress the tip of her breast where his arm cradled her. “You
should not deny what you are.”

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