Zane’s gaze narrowed. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” But she knew.
Her guilty secret had been exposed, the emotions and longings she had kept quietly tucked away—all the better to deny them—had been forced to the surface.
And Zane wasn’t helping the process. Instead of backing off, he was making no bones about the fact that he liked it that she wanted him.
He dipped his head to kiss her. Lifting up on her toes, she wound her arms around his neck and met him halfway.
It was crazy. She hardly knew him, but already she knew how to fit herself against him, how to angle her jaw so his mouth could settle against hers.
With a stifled groan, he wrapped her close. Half lifting her, he walked her backward across the sitting room. Somewhere in the distance, Lilah registered the phone ringing, then they were in his room. The back of her knees hit the edge of his bed.
He came down beside her. Conscious thought evaporated as his mouth reclaimed hers. Long minutes later, he rolled and pulled her on top of him, his fingers tangling in her hair. Charmed and utterly seduced by the clear invitation to play, to kiss him back, she framed his face and lowered her mouth to his.
His palms smoothed down the curve of her spine, pressing her against him so that she was intimately aware of every curve and plane of heated muscle, the firm shape of his arousal. On the upward journey, he peeled her camisole up until he met the barrier of her bra.
Murmuring something short and soft beneath his breath, he fumbled at the fastening then shifted his hands around to cup her breasts.
The distinctive sound of the front door opening cut through the dizzying haze. Elena, dressed in a shimmering, ankle-length black dress and looking like a sleek well-fed raven in spectacles, appeared in the doorway to Zane’s room.
Zane muttered something short beneath his breath and rolled over in an attempt to shield Lilah from his assistant’s view.
Cheeks flushed, Lilah dragged her camisole back into place.
Elena dragged her fascinated gaze from Zane’s chest and seemed to remember herself. She checked the dainty watch on her wrist and addressed Zane in rapid Medinian.
Zane rose to his feet and pulled on a shirt that was draped over a nearby chair. “English, please, Elena.”
“The car is ready. Gemma, your, uh, date—” she directed an apologetic glance at Lilah “—is waiting. Providing we reach the museum in the next twenty minutes, we won’t be late.”
Gemma. Lilah jackknifed. She was Zane’s previous personal assistant and the pretty redhead he had escorted to almost every function the charity had held over the last two years.
Hurt shimmered through her. Above all the gorgeous girls Zane had dated, Gemma reigned supreme. Zane always went back to her. If Lilah had been tempted to fantasize about any kind of a future with Zane, this was exactly the wake-up call she needed.
A second salient fact registered. The museum. And an auction of a private art collection that had been donated to the charity.
Somehow in the craziness of the past few days, she had forgotten she was supposed to attend. Frantically, she checked her wristwatch.
She should have been dressed by now and calling a taxi.
Another thought occurred to her. “Howard.”
Zane’s head snapped around as he shrugged into a shirt. He gave her a questioning look.
“My date.” She scrambled off the bed. She was supposed to be meeting Howard outside the museum in fifteen minutes.
She dashed into her room, snatched an uncrushable cream dress off its hanger, dressed and fixed her hair. She slipped into cream heels and applied a quick dash of mascara and lip-gloss, a spray of her favorite perfume and she was ready.
Picking up her clutch, she joined Zane and Elena. The venue wasn’t far away, but there was no way she would make her rendezvous with Howard in time. To compound matters, this was a first date recommended by the online dating agency she had started using just weeks ago. She had never physically met Howard. All she knew was that he had ticked all the boxes in terms of her requirements in a husband.
Now that Lucas was history, Howard was number one on her list of eligible bachelors and her most likely prospect for marriage.
She dragged her gaze from the riveting sight of Zane in a black tuxedo, and tried to gloss over the fact that she had just climbed out of his bed and was now going to meet a prospective husband. “I need a lift to the museum.”
Lilah was five minutes late.
Howard White was waiting in the appointed place in the museum foyer, although at first she had difficulty picking him out because he was older than the photograph he had supplied. Mid-forties, she guessed, rather than the age of thirty-two, which he had given.
Flustered and ashamed at herself for her loss of control with Zane, and for forgetting she was even meeting Howard, Lilah resolved to overlook his dishonesty.
Howard smiled pleasantly as they shook hands. “I feel like I know you already.”
Guilt burned through her as Howard continued to study her in a way that was just a little too familiar for comfort.
Her picture had been splashed across the tabloids. Her only hope now was that he wouldn’t put two and two together when he saw Zane. She would have to do her best to make sure that they were not seen together.
As he released her hand, she couldn’t help but notice that he had a pale strip across the third finger of his left hand, which seemed to indicate that Howard had been recently married.
The evening progressed at a snail’s pace.
Burningly aware of Zane just a short distance away with Gemma clinging on his arm, Lilah found it hard to focus on Howard and his accounting business.
Howard placed his empty mineral water on a nearby side table and beckoned a passing waiter. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like some champagne?”
“No. Thank you.” Lilah was beginning to get a little annoyed at the pressure Howard was applying with regard to alcohol, especially when he had not touched anything alcoholic himself.
“Very sensible.” He put his wallet away.
She tried to think of something else to say, but the conversation had staggered to a halt.
Howard jerked at his collar as if it was too tight. “My—uh, mother doesn’t agree with alcohol, especially not for women.”
Lilah dragged her gaze from Zane’s profile. She had barely paid Howard any attention, but all of her Cole instincts were on high alert. She had received the strong impression that Howard had been about to say “wife.” “Your mother?”
Howard’s gaze shifted to the auctioneer, who was just setting up. He dragged at his tie as if he was having trouble breathing. “I live with my, uh, mother. She’s a fine woman.”
Feeling suddenly wary of Howard, Lilah excused herself on the grounds that she needed some fresh air before the auction started.
She stepped outside onto a small paved terrace dotted with modern sculpture. A footfall sounded behind her. Zane. Light slanted across his cheekbones, making him look even tougher and edgier.
She had been aware that he had been keeping an eye on her the entire time and had hoped he would follow her.
He jerked his head in the direction of the crowded room. “When did you meet him?”
“Tonight.”
His expression was incredulous. “A blind date?”
She