She wanted badly to dazzle him with some witty response, to show she was completely in control, not remotely fazed by his imposing presence, but she wasn’t in control here—far from it. Zavier Chambers seemed to trigger a major physiological reaction in her just being in the same room.
Void of any reply, Tabitha busied herself removing Aiden’s shoes. Pulling a thick blanket from the wardrobe, she covered his limp body.
She was confident Zavier would go now, which would enable her to at least catch her breath again. After all, he had delivered Aiden safely—had done his brotherly duty. There was no reason for him to stay now—no logical one anyway.
‘I ought to put him on his side, in case he’s sick,’ Tabitha said, more to herself than in an attempt at small talk. Pushing her arms under Aiden, she knelt on the bed, pulling his back towards her.
‘Careful—you might hurt yourself.’ In an instant Zavier leant over to help her, his hand catching her arm as he attempted to render assistance. But the contact was too much for Tabitha’s already shot nerves and she pulled her arm back swiftly.
His coolness only exacerbated her nervousness. She felt his eyes flicker over her exposed cleavage, and as if in response her nipples stiffened, protruding against the flimsy fabric. Even as she swallowed nervously she felt as if he was registering the tiny movement in her throat.
‘Tabitha…’ Aiden, slurring his words, struggled to sit up. ‘Sorry.’
‘Don’t worry about it now,’ Tabitha said gently. ‘Just try and sleep.’
Aiden’s squinting eyes locked on her. ‘I mean it, Tab, I’m really sorry. I’ve been thinking,’ he slurred, resting back on the pillow, ‘I should just marry you. You know that? It would solve everything.’
She felt more than saw Zavier stiffen, heard the tiniest hiss come from his lips, and knew that Zavier thought this was a proposal she had somehow engineered. Her own shock at Aiden’s suggestion for a moment put on hold, she attempted to quiet her friend. But it was too late. The words had escaped, seeping through the air like a vile vapour, compounding every last one of Zavier’s suspicions.
‘Don’t be silly.’ Tabitha attempted a light scold, a nervous giggle escaping her lips. ‘Why would you say such a thing?’
All Aiden could manage was a small shrug before closing his eyes again, but Zavier wanted answers. Reaching over, he shook his brother, rattling him none too gently.
‘Come on, Aiden,’ he quipped, his light voice belying the muscle pounding in his cheek. ‘That’s no way to propose to a lady.’ She saw the tiny snarl as his lips formed around the words. ‘Finish what you’ve started.’
‘It would solve everything,’ Aiden mumbled. ‘Dad would see a marriage before he dies—’ he squinted at Tabitha, who stood mortified ‘—and your gambling debts would be taken care of, darling. I know how worried you…’ He never finished his sentence, instead choosing that moment to go into a deep and rather noisy sleep.
‘I can explain…’ Tabitha started. ‘It’s not how it seems.’
Zavier flashed her a thin smile. ‘I’m sure it’s far worse.’
‘It isn’t. The gambling debts—’
He halted her with one flick of his manicured hand, his gold watch glinting in the bedside light. ‘I don’t give a damn what trouble you’re in. You, Miss Reece, don’t concern me—not one iota. But understand this.’ His voice was menacing. ‘Stay away from my brother. Marry him and I’ll expose you for what you are—a cheap, conniving gold-digger. Do I make myself clear?’
‘You don’t understand.’
‘Oh, yes, I do,’ he hissed. Coming around the bed, he stood over her, stepping uninvited into her personal space, so close she could feel the scorn of his words on her cheek—so close, so vividly near, even the batting of his eyelids seemed to be happening in slow motion. ‘You think you’ve got it all worked out, don’t you? You think the Chambers family are going to be the answer to whatever mess you’ve got yourself into.’
‘I don’t.’ She was trying to defend herself, trying to form an argument, but his presence, his closeness, wasn’t just intimidating her now; it was overwhelming her, fogging her mind with dangerous images. The scent she had inhaled on the dance floor was stifling her now, conjuring recollections of their one dance, and her subconscious responded as it had when he held her. ‘I don’t,’ she said again, dragging her eyes up to meet his, trying to sound as if she meant it, trying to ignore the surge of adrenaline cascading through her body—the high alert of imminent impact.
His Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed. Already he was wearing the dusky growth of a five o’clock shadow, and she imagined the scratch of his cheek on hers, the roughness behind his kiss. Though she hated the venom of his attack, Tabitha was curiously excited, high on adrenaline and champagne and the heady cocktail of hormones his presence haplessly triggered.
His hand moved up slowly and she stood frozen. Only the none too gentle sound of Aiden’s snoring broke the silence—only that and the pounding in her temples as he traced a finger along her white collarbone, exploring the hollows of her neck, his fingers brushing under her curls.
And she waited.
Waited for him to jerk her towards him, to expel the tension with the roughest of kisses. She licked her lips, her pink tongue bobbing out involuntarily, moistening her flesh in anticipation.
‘I might have known.’ In one harsh movement, one harsh sentence, reality invaded and his fingers flipped out the designer label on her dress. ‘Is that the going price for a date these days?’
His words confused her. Struggling to understand his meaning, she stepped back, the distance giving her a chance to collect her thoughts as the contempt in his eyes flared.
‘I sign off Aiden’s credit cards,’ he explained nastily. ‘I should have worked it out earlier. Your outfit is the only tasteful thing about you.’
‘Get out.’
‘Oh, I’m going, and in the morning, Tabitha, so are you. As far from my family as humanely possible if you know what’s good for you.’
Only when the door was safely closed, when only the heavy masculine scent of him remained, did Tabitha breathe again.
Not trusting her legs to stand, she sat on the edge of the sofa, practically trembling just at the thought of him. He was vile, loathsome, full of his own self-importance—and yet… Never had a man made such an impact on her. Those few moments on the dance floor with him had tapped rivers of passion she hadn’t even realised existed. His eyes had seemed to tear through her, his mouth, his smell…
And there wasn’t a single thing she could do about it! Even if she could stretch the boundaries of truth and imagine someone as completely stunning as Zavier Chambers ever in a million years being attracted to her, she was supposed to be his brother’s gold-digging girlfriend—with a gambling problem to boot! Completely out of bounds by anyone’s standards.
Stretching out on the long sofa, she lay staring at the ceiling, almost weeping with frustration at the unfairness of it all. Even the movie channel held no attraction now. What was the point? The real thing had been in this very room only moments before!
It was only a few seconds later when she realised she’d left her bag down at the party.
Rolling on to her side, she battled with the urge to go and retrieve it—battled with the urge to return to the party and a chance of glimpsing Zavier again. It would look stupid, she reasoned. He would surely realise the motive behind it. But her reasoning, however logical, however sensible, was no match for her desire—her need to somehow finish whatever dangerous game had been started, to put him right, to draw