Zac understood confronting situations that threatened to destroy a person. He’d been eighteen when the accident had happened that had left his brother, Mark, a paraplegic. Two years older than Mark, he was supposed to have been the sensible one. Try being sensible with an out-of-control, aggressive younger brother intent on riling him beyond reason. Nearly twenty years later the guilt could still swamp Zac, despite Mark having got on with his life, albeit a different one from what he’d intended before the accident.
The guilt was crippling. Being ostracised by his family because he’d been driving the car when it had slammed over the wall into the sea was as gutting. That’s what put the shields over his heart. If his parents couldn’t love him, who could? If he wasn’t to be trusted to be responsible then he had no right to think any woman would be safe with him. Or any children he might have. So he had to keep from letting anyone near enough to undermine his determination to remain single, even when it went against all he believed in.
Olivia shuffled sideways, putting space between them. ‘Here’s hoping we raise a fortune tonight.’
Zac swallowed his disappointment, tried to find it in himself to be grateful Olivia had the sense to keep their relationship on an impersonal footing. It didn’t come easily. He’d prefer to hug her, which wouldn’t have helped either of them get past this tension that had gripped them from the instant he’d sauntered into the hotel. He wanted her, and suspected—no, he knew—she wanted him just as much. The one thing they’d been very good at had been reading each other’s sexual needs. There hadn’t been much else. Shallow maybe, but that’s how they’d liked it. Their lives had been busy enough with work and study. Their careers had been taking off, leaving little time for much else.
But right now hugging Olivia would be wonderful. Why? He had no idea, but being this close to her he felt alive in a way he hadn’t for months. Eighteen months, to be exact. This feeling wasn’t about sex—though no denying he’d struggle to refuse if it was offered—but more about friendship and closeness. No, not closeness. That would be dangerous. He hauled the armour back in place over his heart. One evening and the itch would be gone.
The elevator doors slid open quietly. Zac straightened from leaning against the wall, held his hand out to indicate to Olivia go first. ‘After you.’
Following her, his gaze was firmly set on the backs of those wonderful legs and the sexy knee-length black boots highlighting them to perfection. Was it wrong to long for what they used to have? Probably not, but needing the closeness with her? That was different from anything he’d experienced, made him vulnerable. Earlier, seeing Olivia standing in Reception, looking like she had everything in hand, he’d felt the biggest lurch of his heart since the day his world had imploded as that car had sunk into the sea and his brother had screamed at him, ‘I hate you.’
‘Zac.’ Olivia stopped, waited for him to come alongside her.
That slim neck he remembered so well was exposed where her coat fell open at her shoulders. ‘CC.’ If he used the nickname he might stop wanting something he couldn’t have. This woman had already shown she could toss him aside as and when it suited her.
He watched as the tightness at the corners of her mouth softened into another heart-wrenching smile. ‘Funny, I haven’t been called CC for a while. I used to like having a nickname. More than anything else it made me feel I belonged to our group.’
‘You never felt you belonged? Olivia, without you we wouldn’t have had so many social excursions or parties. You held our year together.’ She’d worked hard at organising fun times for them, sometimes taking hours away from her studies and having to make up for it with all-night sessions at her desk. But to feel she hadn’t been an integral part of the group? How had he missed that?
Her smile turned wry. ‘I’ve always taken charge. That way I’m not left out, and I get to call the shots. No one’s going to ignore the leader, are they?’
His heart lurched again, this time for the little girl blinking out from those eyes staring at some spot behind him. He certainly didn’t know this Olivia. ‘I guess you’re right.’ With his family he’d learned what it felt like to be on the outside, looking in, but at university he’d made sure no one had seen that guy by working hard at friendships. A lot like Olivia apparently. Everyone at med school had adored her. She could be extroverted and fun, crazy at times, but never out of control. It was like she’d walked a tightrope between letting go completely and keeping a dampener on her feelings.
Except in bed—with him.
Damn, he’d like nothing more than to take Olivia to bed again. But it wouldn’t happen. Too many consequences for both of them. The vulnerability in Olivia’s eyes, her face, told him he could hurt her badly without even trying. That blew him apart. He wanted to protect her, not unravel her. He cared about her.
Trying to get away from Zac and her monumental error, Olivia rushed through the magnificent double doors opening into the banquet room now decorated in blue and white ribbons, table linen, chair covers. Since when did she go about telling people about her insecurities? Not even Zac—especially not Zac—had heard the faintest hint of how she didn’t trust people not to trash her. She did things like this fundraiser so that people thought the best of her. That was the underlying reason she could not fail, would not have tonight be less than perfect. The same reason everything she did was done to her absolute best and then some. She must not be found lacking. Or stupid. Or needy.
Coming to a sudden halt, Olivia stared around the function room, which had been made enormous by sliding back a temporary wall. The sky-blue shade of Andy’s favourite Auckland rugby team dominated. In the corner countless buckets of blue and white irises had finally been delivered and were waiting for the florist to arrange them in the clear glass bowls that were to go in the centre of each table. Everything was coming together as she’d planned it.
She was aware of Zac even before he said, ‘Looking fantastic.’
Zac. Those few minutes in the elevator had been torture. Her nostrils had taken in his spicy aftershave, while her body had leaned towards his without any input from her brain. When he’d looked like he’d been about to hug her she’d at least had the good sense to move away, even when internally she’d been crying out to have those strong arms wound around her. Now she stamped a big smile on her face and acknowledged, ‘It is.’ Too bad if the smile didn’t reach her eyes; hopefully Zac wouldn’t notice.
‘You’re not happy about something.’ He locked that formidable gaze onto her. ‘Give.’
Once again she’d got it wrong when it came to second-guessing him. ‘The florist’s running late, the wineglasses haven’t been set out, the band assured me they’d be set up by four and …’ she glanced at her watch ‘… it’s now three twenty-five.’ And you’re distracting me badly. I want you. In my bed. Making out like we used to. Actually, I’d settle for that hug.
‘We can do this. Tell me what you want done first.’ His eyes lightened with amusement, as if he’d read her mind.
He probably had. How well did she know him? Really? They hadn’t been big on swapping notes on family or growing up or the things they were passionate about. Only the bedroom stuff. Shoving her phone at him, she said, ‘Try the band. Their number’s in there. Eziboys.’
‘You’ve got the Eziboys coming to this shindig?’ Admiration gleamed out at her. ‘What did you have to do? Bribe them with free plastic surgery for the rest of their lives?’
With a light punch to his bicep she allowed, ‘One of them went to school with Andy’s younger brother. They want to help the family.’
‘Not your formidable charm, then?’ He grinned a full-blown Zachary Wright grin, one that was famous for dropping women to their knees in a begging position.
Click, click. Her knees locked and she stayed upright. Just. ‘Phone them, please.’ Begging didn’t count