The Last Man on Earth (20 page)

She could have escaped if she’d really tried. She knew he wouldn’t have stopped her. She pressed her hands flat against the wall. Pressed her body backward as if she could sink into the wallpaper itself, and fought the storm of desire that raged within her.

Relentless, Zack went on. “Does he set you free, Madelyn? When he touches you, does your mind go numb? Does he make your spirit soar?”

She lost herself in his eyes.

“Does he make your body sing?” he whispered.

She trembled and knew she could not lie. “No.”

W
ithout thinking, without wanting to think, she swept her arms around him and pulled his head down to hers. She kissed him, devouring his mouth, sucking at his tongue, urgent and greedy, showing him the way she longed to be taken.

Zack needed no urging, as hungry for her as she was for him.

The pins popped from her hair as he thrust his hands into it, combing through the fiery mass before wrapping it around one wrist to pull her head back so he could lay siege to her neck, her breasts.

She slipped her arms up inside his shirt, yanking the material out of her way to touch the hard heat of his back. Trace the breadth of his wide male shoulders, tunnel her fingers into the short curling hair covering his chest.

She bit at his lower lip.

He bit back, playful yet intense. Then suddenly he was tearing at her clothes, too impatient to wait a single second longer than he had to.

She gasped as he ripped her shirt in two, then did the same to the lacy cups of her bra, letting her breasts spill out into his eager hands. He fondled them, drawing a ragged moan from the back of her throat as he touched and rubbed and tugged in exactly the right way, exactly as he knew she liked.

He ground his mouth against hers as he went to work on the fastenings of her pants. Shuddering, she did the same for him, taking him hot and ready into her hand.

She was naked except for the scraps of cloth dangling from her shoulders. He lifted her high, pinning her against the wall, spreading her legs apart to drive himself deep.

Madelyn bucked and cried out as his entrance pushed her over the edge, the massive climax roaring through her with the fury of a hurricane, sending her spinning and floating, to leave her clutching him as if he truly were her only lifeline.

He thrust into her, his movements a rhythm as ancient as time, reigniting the spark within her.

She stroked her hands over him and buried her face against his neck, drinking in his scent, his texture. The slick, heated feel of sex, raw and elemental. And the sounds. The words she couldn’t control. Spurring him on, daring him to take both of them as high as they could possibly reach.

And as he promised, he sent her soaring. He set her free. Filling her to the brim with more than just his body. Completing her in a way no other man could, or ever would be able to, complete her.

Then she forgot everything, even how to think, as he rocked them both to crisis, fitting his mouth over hers to swallow her cry of completion, to let her drink in his own hoarse shout of release.

Slowly, when enough air had returned to their lungs to breathe, he let her slide to the ground and helped her to stand on unsteady legs. He brushed the last remnants of her clothes from her shoulders, then took her face between his palms and kissed her—long and slow and sweet. They both were trembling by the time he led her to the bed, where they slipped between the sheets for more.

•   •   •

Night was the color of molasses when she awakened, her head pillowed on Zack’s shoulder, his arm wrapped just below her throat.

She lay for a while, relaxed and quiet, listening to him sleep. Aware how right, how complete, she felt.

And how wrong.

Guilt chewed at the edges of her conscious mind. She did her best to push the feeling aside.

There would be plenty of time for regrets later on.

He roused not long after with a yawn and a shivery stretch, then turned to press a kiss to her temple, his evening beard rough against her skin.

She said nothing, wanting him to speak first, hoping she wouldn’t be disappointed with his words.

She was.

“I’m starving.” He ran a hand down the flat of his belly. “You suppose it’s too late for room service?”

She sat up. “I think they serve until two a.m.” She got out of bed, crossing to a low bureau to find the menu. She tossed it to him on her return. “Order me something, nothing greasy. I’m going to take a shower.”

She came out of the bath a long while later, bundled in a yellow terry-cloth robe and thick cotton socks. Her hair was dark with wet and combed neatly down her back. The food had arrived, set up on a small table near the window.

Zack sat in one of the two available chairs, dressed only in pants, his chest and feet bare. A late-night television talk show droned on the TV.

He turned the volume down low. “Did you run all the hot water out?”

“Every last drop, I think.” She slipped into the chair across from him and lifted the lids from the plates on her side of the table. Spinach salad with strips of grilled chicken and a bowl of tomato soup.

“It was that, pasta Alfredo, or some sort of sandwich,” he said.

“This is fine. Perfect, in fact.” She dipped a spoon into the soup to sample it. “Still hot.” She ate another spoonful, only then realizing how hungry she was. A basket of rolls sat in the center of the table. She chose one and broke it in half. “And what are you putting in your cast-iron stomach?”

“A Reuben. It came with French fries, but I ate them all while you were showering.” He took a big bite of his sandwich and chewed.

The low buzz of the television filled the silence for a few minutes as they ate.

Finished with his meal, Zack wiped his fingers clean on a red cloth napkin, then poured himself a second cup of coffee. “When are you going to tell him?”

“Tell who what?” She speared up a forkful of spinach leaves.

“You know, your fiancé, about us. You’ll have to give him that ring back when you break it off.” He wanted to tug the damned thing off her finger right now but knew she’d ruffle up if he started making aggressive demands.

Madelyn paused and drank some ice water; then she set her fork aside. “What makes you think I’m going to break off my engagement?”

It took him a moment to register what she was saying. He scowled. “What happened between us tonight makes me think that.”

“And what happened? We had sex. We’ve had sex before. Did it mean something more to you this time? If it did, you certainly haven’t said so.”

He scowled harder, emotion turning his eyes dark. “Of course it did. It always means something . . . when it’s with you.”

He rose from his chair and paced the floor like a caged animal. “I want you, Madelyn. I want things back the way they were before. It was good between us. It can be good again. Move in with me. Come live with me.”

“Live with you?” she repeated weakly.

“Yes. I’ve missed you, missed us. I know you want something more permanent, but marriage . . . well, I just can’t do marriage, not again.”

She closed her eyes against the temptation to relent and give him what he wanted, tears collecting behind her lids. She forced them away, forced her eyes to dry. She’d promised herself she would not cry. Not again. Never again over him.

“Can’t or won’t?” she challenged, then sighed in resignation when she read his look. “We’ve had this argument before. We can’t agree and nothing’s changed.”

Frustrated, he smacked a fist into his palm. “But you can’t marry him.”

“I can and I will,” she assured him sadly, “unless you give me a good reason why I shouldn’t.”

“I’ve given you a reason, the best reason. Because you don’t love him, that’s why. If you did, you wouldn’t have spent the last few hours in that bed with me.” He pointed behind him to the evidence, the rumpled sheets, the flowered spread that had been kicked to the floor. “You don’t belong with him.”

“Then who do I belong with? You? For how long, Zack? How long until you decide it won’t work between us and you leave? Because deep down you’ve already decided, haven’t you? That’s why you don’t want to marry me, because forever to you is something that just doesn’t exist, something that can’t exist. You expect to fail before you even start. And what happens to me when you decide it’s over? When you pick up and move on to some other woman? I’ll be alone and I’ll have given up other things I want. Precious things—a home and a family, a man I can grow old with, who’ll someday see the wrinkles of age and love me despite them.”

“You’d find someone else,” he said. “You wouldn’t have a problem.”

But he would, he acknowledged, fire burning in his gut at the thought of her with another man.

Any other man.

“And I would have hurt James, my friend,” she went on. “A good man who really loves me. If I leave him now, he won’t take me back.”

“What about tonight? Don’t you think he’d be hurt if he knew about us?”

She flinched, his words a knife in her heart. “He would be very hurt. Are you going to tell him?”

I could,
he thought. There would be a certain satisfaction in it, showing his rival who truly held the upper hand. But it wouldn’t change what was wrong between him and Madelyn; all he would gain was her hatred.

“No. I won’t tell him.”

“Thank you,” she said on a quiet sigh of relief.

She worried her fingernail over a nubby spot on her robe. “Zack, what we did tonight. It was wrong and should never have happened. James loves me and I’ve paid him back with betrayal. I’ve made promises, not only to him, but to my family and friends, to people who want what’s best for me.”

He knelt down in front of her and took her hands. “They may want what’s best, but you are the only one who can decide what that is. It’s not too late to call off this wedding, you know.”

She lifted a hand to thread her fingers into his hair, so soft and dark. She loved the feel of it against her skin.

Slowly, she leaned forward and kissed him tenderly on the lips, pulling away before he could turn it into more than a brief touch. She slid her hands free of his. “You broke my heart once. I can’t let you break it again. If you don’t love me enough to want to try for forever, then please go away. Please stay out of my life.”

He hung his head, still kneeling before her. And for the first time since he’d been a boy of ten, he wanted to cry. Standing heartsick and mute as he’d watched his mother pack a suitcase in the middle of the day. While he’d stood helpless and lost as she hurried from the house without explanation, without so much as a good-bye, leaving only the echoing slam of the screen door and the screech of car tires behind her.

A few simple words and Madelyn would stay. All her warmth and sweetness would be his for the taking. He only had to say the words, tell her what she needed, what she wanted, to hear.

He swallowed, his voice raw with emotion. “I’m sorry, Red. I just can’t do it. I can’t marry you.”

Slowly he stood, gathered his belongings, and left.

•   •   •

The last leaves of October drifted from the trees, leaving bare November branches to usher in cooler days and skies turned sullen and gray with clouds. Heavy clothes and warm coats were brought forth in place of lighter attire. The toasty insides of homes and offices and schools took on a more welcoming aspect, if for no other reason than the shelter such buildings provided.

And on the congested streets of New York City, life continued at its usual frenetic pace. The wide-open vistas of Arizona blue skies were a distant memory. Yet not distant enough for Madelyn as she tried her best to forget.

As the days ticked by, she buried herself deep inside a mountain of work and wedding preparations, diving into both tasks with an intense abandon that gratified some and concerned others.

Her efforts on behalf of Carmichael Foods and the remainder of her accounts continued to garner praise. And although she compromised on the Giatta issue, she managed to do so in a way that satisfied the client while still preserving the integrity of her original ad campaign.

In spite of her best efforts, she and Zack crossed paths with alarming frequency. In meetings. On the elevator. In the hallways. And once during an office birthday celebration when too many people crowded into the break room and shuffled the pair of them together, their bodies all but touching.

Madelyn knew it was an untenable situation that could not continue indefinitely—at least for one of them.

•   •   •

“Take a deep breath and you’ll be fine.”

“Oh, Madelyn, I’m so glad you’re here.” Peg rested her palm across her silk-covered stomach and drew a shivery lungful of air. “How do I look?”

Madelyn angled back for a better view of Peg in her wedding attire—from the top of her carefully styled brunette curls and sheer veil to the bottom of her dainty, low-heeled white satin pumps. The dress itself was a triumph of unembellished elegance, a flowing white sheath with tiny spaghetti straps that displayed each line and curve of Peg’s splendid figure to perfection.

“Radiant, that’s how you look,” Madelyn answered. “The most beautiful bride anyone has ever seen.”

The bride gave her a needy smile. “Do you really think so?”

“Of course I think so. I wouldn’t have said it otherwise. You’re going to knock Todd’s socks off.”

Peg’s smile widened. She fluttered a trembling hand in front of herself. “Look at me, I’m shaking. I don’t know why I’m so anxious. I mean, I’m happy. I’m really happy, but I’m terrified too. I love Todd so much. I can’t wait to be his wife. But what if I screw up my vows? What if I say my name wrong? Or his name wrong? What if I completely ruin the ceremony?”

“You’re not going to ruin the ceremony. Everything will be fine. Just remember to breathe.”

“Breathe,” Peg repeated to herself. “Breathe. I can do that. I can breathe.” She reached out suddenly and grabbed Madelyn’s hands. “Oh, just think, in only a few weeks this is going to be you. I’ll be an old married woman, tanned and gorgeous and still recovering my strength after three weeks of incredible honeymoon sex in the Bahamas, and it’ll be your turn to be terrified and happy all at the same time. Oh God, how much time’s left?”

Madelyn reached into the tiny teal blue handbag that matched her bridesmaid’s dress and lifted out her watch. “Ten minutes. Your dad’s supposed to come and give us the signal.”

“Oh, what a time to develop a nervous bladder. Tell Dad he’ll just have to wait. I’ll be back.”

“We can’t start without you, so don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry,” Peg mumbled to herself as she rushed away, repeating the word “breathe” as she went.