“Out of the question,” she murmured, then met his eyes. “I would never dump the man who saved my life.”
He let that statement sink in for a few seconds, and found himself shaking his head at the ridiculousness of the situation, and even more ridiculous conversation. “I’m touched, Liv,” he said, only half joking. “I presume you’d like this press release as soon as possible?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “I should get right back. But I felt this was so important I had to come myself. It was only fair to you.” She managed a slight, embarrassed smile. “Especially since I didn’t let you know about our engagement.”
“I appreciate being included this time.” He indicated the mansion on the hill. “Why don’t we go inside where we can discuss our amicable breakup under fewer spotlights.”
Her blush faded somewhat, and Zack noticed, with the stark light, she really did look unwell. Her eyes seemed hollow, lusterless. He hadn’t seen her for nearly a year, when he’d had dinner at her home. She’d been attractive and vivacious, with a golden tan. But this Olivia Nordstrom was so pallid her beige linen suit seemed dark by comparison. If he didn’t miss his guess, she’d lost weight. Though she was still lovely, the change wasn’t for the better.
Without determining why, he took her arm. “It’s fastest if we cut across the lawn.”
She balked. “But—across the lawn?”
He halted and glanced at her. “Is that a problem? Do you have a grass allergy?”
She shook her head. “No, but heels don’t do well in grass. They tend to sink.”
“We wouldn’t want you making divots in the lawn,” he quipped offhandedly, glancing at the shoes. Actually his attention only flicked off the high heels before seeking out slender ankles. “Take them off,” he suggested, working to keep his mind on track.
“And walk in my stockings?”
“That’s a problem?” He met her gaze.
“I’ll get a run. I have to wear these stockings all the way home.”
“I see.” In fact, he was mystified. She seemed totally unprepared for this trip. “What did you think Merit Island consisted of, a high-rise condo surrounded by pavement?”
She flushed again. “I’m afraid my decision to come was rushed. I—I didn’t really think.” She swept a hand down to indicate her legs, half exposed below a knee-length skirt.
Those legs had been a major area of interest ever since he’d seen her scramble from the boat, so her insistence that he examine them was criminal. Up until now, he’d made every effort to avoid ogling.
“My plan was to run out here for an hour, then go right back,” she said. “I saw no need for a change of clothes.”
Deciding he’d given her legs as much attention as was appropriate to the situation, he met her eyes. “Sounds like you had your father’s complete approval for this jaunt,” he taunted.
She looked away. “Not quite.” She glanced back. “He wanted to send Jerry Skelton, his campaign manager, but I didn’t think you two would hit it off. Jerry can be…abrasive.”
Apparently “abrasive” was the most diplomatic word she could think of. Ol’ Jerry must be a real doll. “Were you afraid he’d hurt me,” he asked, “…or that I’d hurt him?” He hoped it was the latter, but he had a feeling Liv was protecting him from Jerry’s rapier intellect rather than rescuing the campaign manager from Zack’s left hook. So what if she thought of him as a muscle-bound oaf. What in bloody hell did he care?
She dropped her gaze again, which gave the impression of a coy come-on. You only wish, Merit! He squelched the notion. You’re annoyed with her, idiot! Let’s not get off track over the way she looks at her own feet!
“I didn’t think you deserved Jerry’s barking and growling.” He was chagrined to see tears glittering in her eyes. Damn. She was having a bad time.
“Jerry might have made some disagreeable remark about you fueling the rumors by not coming forward to deny the story. About how you were feathering your own nest, bolstering your reputation, by allowing people to think you and I…” She spread her arms in his general direction. “Of course it’s ridiculous. I know you were angry with me, and your silence was your way of telling me to go to—well, that is—to deal with my own mess, no matter what Daddy and Jerry might think.” Hugging herself, she did that looking-down thing with her lashes again, and he felt his stomach clench. “I don’t want you to have any more trouble because of me than—”
“Yeah, thanks,” he broke in, needing to move, to concoct this press release and get her and her sexy-coy eyelashes off the island. Without engaging his thinking processes, he lifted her into his arms. Her gasp didn’t surprise him, and he ignored it.
So her important daddy and his fine-feathered campaign manager thought he was trying to mend his reputation by implying through silence there was a love affair going on between him and the prim, sophisticated Miss Nordstrom? As he trudged over the manicured lawn, holding her in his arms, his annoyance resurfaced. “Before you announce your next engagement,” he grumbled, “either learn to deal with walking on grass or pick on some guy who doesn’t live on such brutal terrain.”
Olivia didn’t expect to cross the Merit threshold in Zachary’s arms. If she’d been in a joking mood, she might have made some reference to the fact that they’d gone from a quickie engagement to a quickie honeymoon. But his sarcastic shot about her inability to walk on grass knocked any idea of joking right out of her, which was probably for the best. Zachary didn’t appear inclined toward matrimonial banter.
All the way across the sweeping lawn his expression had been one of scowling intensity. His gaze had not met hers once. She knew that because she’d stared at his face the whole way. She had no idea why, but for some reason watching his troubled features, his striking green eyes, his firm mouth, was all she could do.
A muscle knotted in his jaw, and she sensed he’d gritted his teeth. No doubt he was struggling to keep from calling her a silly female hothouse orchid who, not only couldn’t walk the distance of a football field on her own two feet, but couldn’t get out of a cabin cruiser without the aid of two beefy men.
He already knew she couldn’t jump out of an airplane and live to tell about it, unless a man happened to whiz through space, risking his own life, to save her inept backside. What a weak-Wanda impression she’d made on Zachary Merit. Add to that the fact that she’d betrothed herself to him via the newspapers, making him so uncomfortable and angry he’d fled clear across the North American continent! Yes, she was definitely at the top of Zachary Merit’s Get-Out-Of-My-Life list.
They entered the mansion through a set of glass-paned double doors, which opened onto a covered patio. Once inside, Olivia was startled to find that she and Zachary weren’t alone. Several adults, one toddler and an infant were scattered about a pleasantly furnished den of rich earth tones. Soft music played in the background.
Olivia had a feeling the two women, eyeing her and Zack with strange smiles, had been peeking out, giving a blow-by-blow commentary of their approach. An elderly man with a thick shock of white hair sat on an oriental rug between a marble hearth and a chocolate leather sofa. He cuddled a baby in the crook of one arm. In his free hand, he held a rattle.
When he looked up, his smile faded. His was the only reaction that seemed negative. The other two men grinned openly. A blond toddler, about a year-and-a-half old, sagged sleepily on the lap of another man with green eyes, just like Zack’s.
“Well, well, little brother, you left here mad at her and you come back married?” Laying aside a storybook, he winked at Olivia. “If your father is half as persuasive as you, Miss Nordstrom, I predict you’ll