His Brand of Passion

Then she looked up, and her eyes widened as she caught sight of him in the mirror just a few feet behind her, lurking like a dark shadow.

‘Hello, Zoe.’

She turned around slowly, drying her hands. ‘This is the ladies’ room, you know,’ she remarked, and to her credit she sounded as light and wry as ever.

‘I know.’

‘What are you doing here?’

He took a step towards her and was gratified to see her eyes widen a little more. She should be afraid of him. Or, if not afraid, then at least a little wary. ‘What do you think I’m doing here? I want my phone.’

She crossed her arms over her chest. ‘Sorry, Bryant. You’ll have to wait until the reception is over.’

‘I don’t think so.’

Her lips parted and he saw something flare in her eyes. Fear? No, it was excitement. He felt it himself, a surprising little pulse of anticipation. She was so not his type, and yet in that moment he knew he was quite looking forward to putting his hand down her dress.

‘And how,’ she asked, her voice turning husky, ‘do you think you’re going to get it back?’

‘Quite easily.’ He took another step towards her, so she was pressed against the sink, her head angled up towards him. She didn’t move, didn’t even try to escape him. Was she wondering if he’d dare do it? Or did she want him to? As much as he did, perhaps.

His gaze fastened on hers, and something pulsed and blazed between them. Aaron felt it, felt the very air seem to tauten around them, crackle with the sudden, electric energy they had created. Slowly, deliberately, he reached out and slid a few fingers down the bodice of her dress. Her skin was silky and warm, the sides of her breasts brushing his fingers. Zoe gasped aloud. Aaron smiled even as desire arrowed through him. ‘Quite a tight fit.’

‘Quite,’ she managed.

With the tip of his fingers he could just touch his phone, but there was no way he could actually get it. Not without unzipping the dress completely…which was a possibility. Anything felt possible right now.

‘You are outrageous,’ Zoe gasped, and Aaron chuckled softly.

‘I’m not the one who started this, sweetheart.’

‘Yes, you did. When you texted—’

He was stroking the sides of her breasts with his fingers in an attempt to reach the phone and Aaron knew that neither of them was immune. He saw Zoe’s pupils dilate with desire and felt himself harden even more.

He slid his hand lower.

‘You’re not going to get it,’ Zoe said breathlessly, and Aaron arched an eyebrow.

‘One way or another, I’ll get it.’

‘I don’t think so,’ she answered, her tone mocking his perfectly. He almost laughed. His fingertip brushed the phone and then, to his annoyance, the damn thing slid lower so it was resting against her stomach. There was no way he could get it now.

Unless…

‘Don’t you dare,’ Zoe whispered and Aaron smiled.

‘I think this whole encounter is about daring, don’t you?’ He removed his hand from her dress, allowing his fingers to stroke her soft, small breasts on the way up. Zoe stared at him, pupils still dilated, lips parted, her breath coming in little pants.

‘You wouldn’t.’

‘Want to bet?’

And, with his gaze still hard on hers, he put his hand up under her skirt.

Zoe stood rigid, unable to believe Aaron Bryant had just put his hand up her dress. And he’d already put it down her dress. Her whole body felt as if it were on fire from those few, calculated little touches. She was hopeless. Hopelessly attracted to this arrogant ass of a man.

So much so that she didn’t even move as his hand slid up her thigh, his fingers warm and seeking on her bare flesh. His gaze was riveted on hers, and she knew, no matter how angry or determined he was, he felt something for her. She could feel the attraction between them, heavy and thick. His hand slid higher, smoothing along her hip before he finally found the phone with his fingers and tugged it down. And she hadn’t resisted at all, not even the tiniest bit.

‘I can’t believe you,’ she whispered and he smiled.

‘Believe it.’ He slid his hand lower to the juncture of her thighs, the phone in his palm. Zoe’s breath came out in a devastated rush as he pressed his hand against her, the phone still in it, cool against her heated and tender flesh. Sensation sizzled straight through her and she sagged against the counter.

‘You are incredible.’

‘Why, thank you.’ He pressed again and she closed her eyes, feeling utterly exposed and shameless, yet helpless to prevent it.

‘It wasn’t a compliment,’ she managed, and he laughed softly.

‘Considering the response I’m coaxing from you, I rather think it was.’

Zoe opened her eyes, forced herself to straighten. ‘What I really meant is that you’re incorrigible.’

‘True.’ His hand was still between her legs, teasing her, tormenting her. It took all her effort to remain still, not to allow her body to invite his deeper caresses. ‘But then so are you.’ He stared at her for a long moment, and then with one last press of his hand he stepped away. ‘Thanks for my phone,’ he said, and then he was gone.

Aaron stalked from the bathroom, his whole body blazing with unfulfilled desire. He had not expected that to happen, for that skinny, seriously annoying woman to awaken in him such a fierce need. Well, she had, and it was going to be incredibly difficult to focus on work as he needed to.

Swearing under his breath, he found a private alcove in the ballroom and checked his messages and texts. Just as he’d thought, the European market was imploding and his investors were panicking. He spent thirty minutes doing damage control and then he slid his phone back into his pocket.

He stared into space for a few minutes, felt the familiar cold wash of fear sweep through him. He hated these close calls. Hated feeling, as he’d felt for fifteen years, like Bryant Enterprises was about to slip out of his grasp even as it remained the chain that bound and choked him.

How much had those few hours without his phone cost him? It was impossible to measure, yet Aaron knew there was a cost. There always had been, always would be. And with a sudden, cold certainty, he also knew who was going to pay this time.

He strode back into the reception and saw that things were starting to wind down. Chase and Millie were coming out in their going-away clothes for a week’s honeymoon on St Julian’s, the Bryants’ private island in the Caribbean. Zoe stood behind her sister, smiling, although Aaron thought she looked rather wistful, maybe even sad. She hardly seemed like the type to want a ring on her finger, but who knew? Most women wanted one. Wanted the ridiculous fairy tale, the impossible dream.

He waited until Chase and Millie had left and the other guests were starting to trickle away. He said goodbye to Luke and Aurelie, managing a few minutes’ stilted conversation, before he went in search of Zoe.

She was standing by their table, picking some bits of confetti out of her bouquet. Her hair streamed over her shoulders in a dark ribbon, her body lithe and slender, and Aaron remembered just how silky and warm her skin had felt, how her body had helplessly yielded to his.

He strode towards her. She glanced up at him, and he felt her tense, her eyes dark with shadows. ‘What do you want now?’

‘You,’ he said flatly, and her jaw dropped.

‘What—?’

‘I have a limo waiting outside.’

She stared at him in disbelief and Aaron wondered in a detached sort of way if she’d refuse. He’d felt her response earlier, the heat and the strength of it. He was pretty sure she’d felt his own. If she refused, she had more scruples—or at least more self-control—than he’d credited her with.

Wordlessly Zoe tossed her bouquet back on the table. ‘Let’s go,’ she said and, with a smile of triumph curling his mouth, Aaron led her out of the ballroom.

CHAPTER TWO

SHE DIDN’T DO stuff like this—one-night stands, flings with strangers. It was crazy. She was crazy, Zoe thought as she followed Aaron outside into the warm summer air and then straight into the luxurious leather interior of the limo that was waiting by the kerb, just as he’d said.

What on earth had made her agree? She didn’t even like him. But she was incredibly, irresistibly attracted to him. And, Zoe realised with a sudden flash of insight, the fact that she didn’t like him made this whole encounter emotionally safe. Aaron Bryant was no danger to her already battle-worn heart. Even if this whole scenario was way outside her comfort zone.

‘Where are we going?’ she asked as the limo pulled away from the Plaza.

‘My apartment.’

She nodded, felt a little frisson of something close to fear. This was so not her. She might give off that reckless, devil-may-care attitude, but in her relationships she’d been depressingly, boringly conservative. And she’d got hurt time and time again as a result.

Maybe this was the way to go.

‘Nervous?’ Aaron asked, the word mocking, and Zoe just shrugged.

‘Going home with a strange man to his apartment is a little out of the usual for me, no matter what you might think. But, considering how well-known you are, I think I’m pretty safe.’

Aaron stretched his arms out along the seat, his fingers just brushing her shoulder. Zoe resisted the urge to shiver under that thoughtless touch. ‘How do you reckon that?’ he asked.

‘I don’t think,’ Zoe said, ‘you want any bad publicity.’

He frowned, his eyes narrowing, before his wonderfully mobile mouth suddenly curved into a surprising smile. ‘Are you actually threatening me?’

‘Not at all. Just stating facts. And in any case, like you said earlier, we’re practically family. It’s hard to believe you’re related to Chase, but since you are I’ll assume you’re not a complete psycho.’

‘Thanks very much for that vote of confidence,’ Aaron said dryly. He turned to gaze out of the window. ‘Why is it hard to believe I’m related to Chase?’

Zoe shrugged. ‘Mainly because he’s actually nice.’

‘I see.’ He didn’t seem at all offended, more amused. Zoe glanced out of the window at the cars and taxis streaming by in a blur. ‘So where is your apartment, exactly?’

‘We’re here.’

‘Here’ was a luxury high-rise on West End Avenue, and Aaron’s apartment was, unsurprisingly, the penthouse. The lift doors opened right into the living area, and Zoe stepped into a temple of modern design with floor-to-ceiling windows on three sides overlooking the city and the Hudson River.

‘Nice,’ she remarked, taking in the black leather sofas, the chrome-and-glass coffee table, the modern sculpture, and the white faux fur rug. A granite-and-marble kitchen opened onto a dining area with an ebony table that seated twelve. Everything was spotless, empty, barren. The place, Zoe decided, had no soul. Just like the man.

She walked to the window overlooking the Hudson, the inky-black river glimmering with lights. She felt Aaron approach from behind her, and then she shivered as he moved her hair and brushed his lips across the bared nape of her neck.

His hands fastened on her hips and then slid slowly upwards over the silk of her dress to cup her breasts. Zoe shivered again and then, with effort, stepped away.

‘I don’t know what impression you’ve formed of me, but I like a little conversation along with the sex.’ She spoke lightly, even though she felt a tremble deep inside. She’d had plenty of boyfriends, but she’d never done this before, and never with a man like Aaron. Powerful. Overwhelming. A little…frightening.

‘Conversation?’ Aaron repeated, sounding completely nonplussed. ‘What do you want to talk about? The latest film? The weather?’

‘I think you could do better than that,’ she answered tartly. ‘And, actually, what I’d really like to talk about is food.’

Aaron arched one dark eyebrow, unsmiling. ‘Food.’

‘I’m hungry. Starving, actually. I never eat at parties.’

He simply stared and Zoe almost laughed. At least she felt a little easing of the tension coiling tighter and tighter inside her. She doubted Aaron was used to women who did anything more than nibble at the occasional lettuce leaf and take their clothes off on his command. She was determined to be different.

‘I don’t have any food,’ he said after a moment, his gaze still hard and assessing on her. ‘I always order in or eat out.’

‘Perfect,’ Zoe replied breezily. ‘We can order in.’

He still looked nonplussed, frankly incredulous. ‘What do you want to order?’

‘A California roll.’

‘Sushi?’

‘If by sushi you mean the non-raw fish kind, then yes.’ She was inexplicably gratified to see his mouth curve in the tiniest of smiles.

‘If we’re going to order sushi, we’ll do it properly,’ he said and slid his phone out of his pocket.

Zoe smiled. ‘At last you’re putting your phone to good use.’

This woman drove him crazy. In far too many ways. His palms itched to touch her, yet here she was insisting they order sushi, as if they were some couple about to have a quiet night in. He’d almost asked her if she wanted to rent a DVD while they were at it, but then he decided not to risk it. She might take him seriously.

The women he knew—and, more importantly, the women he went to bed with—didn’t behave the way Zoe Parker did, which begged the question why he’d brought her back here in the first place.

He was used to women going along exactly with what he wanted. What he commanded. Hell, everyone did. He didn’t allow for anything else.

And yet here he was, ordering her damn food. Still, he was hungry. He hadn’t eaten much at the reception either, and he was willing to go along with Zoe’s crazy ideas—to a point. Eventually and inevitably she would have to understand and accept who was calling the shots.

He slid his phone back into his pocket. ‘The food should be here in about fifteen minutes.’

A flirty, cat-like smile played around her mouth. ‘So what should we talk about for fifteen minutes?’ she asked, and he could tell from her tone that she was laughing at him, that she knew the thought of making conversation for that long exasperated and annoyed him.

He didn’t want to talk.

‘I have no idea,’ he said shortly, and her smile widened.

‘Oh, I’ve got plenty of ideas, don’t worry.’ She walked over to the sofa and stretched out, her legs long and slim in front of her, her arms along the back. ‘Let’s see…We could talk about why you live in such an awful apartment.’

‘Awful apartment?’ he repeated in disbelief and she smiled breezily.

‘I’ve been in morgues with more warmth. Or we could talk about how you don’t get along with anyone in your family, or why you’re so obsessive about work.’ She batted her eyelashes. ‘Are you compensating for something else, do you think?’

‘Or,’ he growled, ‘we could both shut up and get on with what we came here for.’

‘Now, that’s a come-on I haven’t heard before. Really charming. Makes me want to strip naked right now.’

Fury pulsed through him. He’d never met a woman who dished it out so much before. Most women wanted to impress him. He took a step towards her. ‘A few hours ago you were practically melting in a puddle at my feet. I don’t think I have much to worry about there, sweetheart.’

Her eyes flashed silver. ‘Honestly, you are the most arrogant ass of a man I have ever met. I’m amazed there’s enough room in this apartment for you, me and your ego.’

He stared at her, disbelief making his mind go blank. No one talked to him like this. No one. Zoe’s mouth curled into a saccharine smile.

‘I suppose no one has dared to tell you that before?’ She didn’t wait for an answer. ‘I think Millie and Chase will be happy together, don’t you?’ Her eyes danced as she posed the question oh, so innocently and Aaron gritted his teeth. As if he wanted to talk about weddings, marriages and happy endings. He didn’t want any of it, at least not for himself.

‘I suppose so,’ he said in a bored voice. ‘I haven’t really given it much thought.’

‘What a surprise.’

‘Why do you want to talk to me, anyway?’ he asked. He hated the way she made him feel as if he’d lost control, and he was determined to get it back—however he could. ‘You obviously don’t like me, or anything about me. So what’s there to chat about, really, Zoe?’ He spread his hands wide, his eyebrows raised in challenge. For a moment she didn’t answer and he felt a surge of triumph. Gotcha.

‘Well,’ she finally said, her mouth curving upwards once more, ‘I always live in hope. No one’s irredeemable, surely? Not even you.’

‘What a compliment.’

‘It wasn’t meant to be one,’ she answered, and he knew she was intentionally parroting what he’d said to her earlier. She eyed him mischievously. ‘But take it as one, if you like.’

‘I’m not interested in anything you say,’ Aaron snapped. ‘Compliments or otherwise. I think we’ve talked enough.’

‘We’re still waiting for the sushi,’ Zoe reminded him and Aaron nearly cursed.

He shouldn’t have ordered the damn sushi. He shouldn’t have gone for any of this, he realised. The moment Zoe had slipped out of his arms and stopped playing by his rules he should have shown her the door. So why hadn’t he?

Because he wanted her too much. And because not having her felt like losing. They’d been locked in a battle from the moment she’d taken his phone, and Aaron knew only one way of assuring sweet, sweet victory.

‘I think we can make good use of the time while we wait,’ he said, his voice deepening to a purr, and with a savage satisfaction he saw awareness—and perhaps alarm—flare in her eyes.

‘I’m sure we could.’ She crossed her legs. ‘So were any of those messages on your phone actually important?’

‘Critical,’ Aaron informed her silkily. He loosened the knot of his ascot and saw how her gaze was drawn to the movement. ‘Absolutely crucial.’

She pursed her lips. ‘Oh, dear.’

‘Considering all the inconvenience you put me to, I think you owe me.’

She raised her eyebrows. ‘Owe you?’

‘Definitely.’ He shed his tie and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt. ‘And I can think of several ways you can pay me back.’

‘Oh, I’m sure you could.’ Her eyes narrowed as if she wanted to argue, but he saw the rapid rise and fall of her chest and knew she was affected. As affected as he was…Hell, he’d been in a painful state of arousal since she’d first slid into his limo.

The intercom buzzed, and the tension that had been coiling and tautening between them was, for the moment, broken. Aaron strode towards the door and buzzed the delivery man up, conscious of Zoe; she’d risen from the sofa and was wandering around the living room, glancing at a few of the paintings on the walls, her body like a lithe shadow as she moved through the darkened room.

She turned and joined him at the door, and he breathed in the scent of her, some soap or shampoo that smelled like vanilla. The ends of her hair brushed his shoulder. ‘So what kind of sushi did you order, anyway?’

‘The real kind.’ Not that he had any interest in eating anything. The doorbell rang and he dealt with the delivery man before turning back to her. ‘And you have to try some before I give you your California roll.’

‘Oh, do I?’ Her eyes glinted and she looked intrigued, maybe even a little confused. Hell, he was. Why was he playing this game? Why didn’t he toss her the food, tell her to eat and then take her to bed? Even if that did have a touch of the Neanderthal about it, it was still more his style. Yet some part of him actually enjoyed their sparring. It invigorated him, at least and, even if taking her to bed would be the simpler and more expedient option, he wasn’t quite ready to let go of all the rest.

He grabbed some plates and glasses and a bottle of wine from the kitchen and took it all over to the living area. After a second’s pause he put it all on the coffee table and stretched out on the rug. Everything felt awkward, unfamiliar. He didn’t do this. He didn’t socialise with the women he slept with, he didn’t romance them.

Zoe sat down next to him, a willing pupil. ‘So what am I going to try first?’

‘We’ll start gently. Futomaki.’

‘Which is?’

‘Cucumber, bamboo shoots and tuna.’

She wrinkled her nose. ‘Okay.’

Aaron handed her a roll and took one himself. Then he opened the wine and poured them both glasses. ‘Cheers.’

‘Cheers.’ She took a sip of wine and a small bite of the sushi roll.

‘Well?’

‘It’s okay. I can taste the tuna, though.’

He laughed, the sound strangely rusty. ‘You don’t like fish?’

‘Not particularly.’

‘Well, I admire your willingness to try.’ He bit into his own roll, surprised and discomfited at how he was almost—almost—enjoying himself. Relaxing, even, which was ridiculous. He didn’t do either—enjoyment or relaxation. He worked. He strove. Sometimes he slept.

‘I admire your willingness to try too,’ Zoe said, and Aaron glanced at her sharply.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I sense this is outside of your comfort zone,’ she said, a hint of laughter in her voice. ‘I imagine the women you take to bed go directly there, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars.’ She arched an eyebrow. ‘They don’t sit on your rug, drinking wine and eating sushi.’

He stilled, feeling weirdly, terribly exposed and even angry. ‘No, they don’t.’

‘Sorry not to fall in step with your plans.’ She didn’t sound remotely sorry.

‘I can be flexible on occasion.’

‘How encouraging.’

‘Try this one.’ He handed her another sushi roll. Zoe stared at it in distaste.

‘What is this?’

‘Narezushi. Gutted fish in vinegar, pickled for at least six months.’

‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’

‘I don’t make jokes.’

‘Ever?’

He considered. ‘Pretty much.’

She put the roll aside, shaking her head, her lips pursed and her eyes glinting. ‘Why, Aaron, I almost feel sorry for you.’

‘Don’t,’ he said roughly, the word a warning.

‘Don’t what?’

‘Don’t even think about feeling sorry for me.’ No one did. No one should. He had everything he’d ever wanted, everything anyone wanted. He didn’t need Zoe Parker’s pity.

She laughed softly. ‘Touched a sore spot, did I?’

He saw now that with the wine and the food she was getting over-confident. Presumptuous. Thinking that this meant something, that they were creating some kind of intimate situation here. It was time to start calling the shots, Aaron decided. And to let Zoe know the only kind of intimate he was interested in.

She was annoying him, Zoe knew. Making him angry. Shame, because for a little while there things had almost seemed pleasant. Aaron had almost seemed…normal.

And she liked baiting him. She needed to do it, because the intensity of her attraction—and her emotion—scared her. She didn’t do intense, not anymore. Teasing him defused that, at least a little.

Except now the very air felt thick with tension, with desire. She saw his dark eyes flare darker and he set his plate and glass aside as Zoe braced herself, knowing the pleasant little interlude was over. Aaron Bryant was ready to get down to business.

She met his gaze, determined to stay insouciant, never to let him know how much he affected her. How much power he had over her. ‘Party over?’

‘I wouldn’t say that.’ He reached out one powerful hand and closed it around her wrist, pulling her slowly and inexorably towards him. Zoe didn’t resist. She couldn’t; already she felt that heavy languor steal through her veins, take over her brain. She was just way too attracted to this man. ‘I’d say it’s just beginning.’

Aaron pulled her onto his sprawled thighs, his hands on her hips so she was straddling him. She felt the press of his erection against the juncture of her own thighs and pleasure bolted straight through her. It took all her will-power not to press back, not to admit with her body how much she wanted him. She needed to keep some kind of pride. Some kind of defence.