His Brand of Passion (11 page)

Zoe couldn’t do it. She would rather be here, even if it meant this unbearable awkwardness and tension with Aaron.

She finished her tea and tidied herself up, brushing her hair and even managing a bit of blusher and lipstick. She looked awful, she saw as she gazed in the mirror: pale and haggard, with vivid purple shadows under her eyes. Sighing, she turned away. Her appearance hardly mattered now.

Aaron was seated in the main area of the jet and Zoe came in and sat across from him. ‘The airstrip is on the edge of the resort,’ he told her. ‘We’ll have a car waiting for us. You should be settled in the villa within the hour.’

‘Thank you,’ Zoe murmured. He was making everything so easy for her.

Twenty minutes later they’d landed, and just as Aaron had promised a luxury sedan was waiting on the tarmac. He helped her inside, sliding in next to her, his thigh brushing hers before he murmured an apology and moved away.

Tears stung her eyes and she blinked hard. She hated how stupidly emotional she was being, how everything felt sad, like an ending, even that little, courteous rejection.

The villa was utterly amazing, as Zoe had known it would be. Set a little apart from the rest of the resort’s lush grounds, its living room had sliding glass doors leading straight to the beach on one side, and a private terrace and pool on the other. There were three bedrooms, all luxuriously appointed, and a gourmet kitchen already stocked with food.

‘I tried to order what you liked,’ Aaron said. ‘Tea, dairy-free ice cream…And, of course, you can order anything from any of the hotel’s restaurants and it will be delivered.’

‘It all sounds amazing.’ And thoughtful, yet she supposed that shouldn’t surprise her. Aaron had, in his own way, always been thoughtful. He considered every angle, every possibility. And now his kindness stung.
It’s too late
, she wanted to cry. Scream.
It’s too late. There’s no future for us now; making me love you will tear me apart even more
.

‘I think I’ll just change,’ she said, because her loose fleece and sweatpants—she’d needed comfortable clothing for the plane—felt too warm in the sultry tropical air.

‘Of course. There are clothes in the main bedroom.’

He’d given her the master bedroom, and the wardrobe was full of brand-new clothes: sun dresses and swimsuits; shorts and capris; silky, expensive-looking T-shirts, all in the bright colours she loved.

A few minutes later she’d changed into a T-shirt and capris and came out to see Aaron at the dining-room table with his laptop. He’d changed into a polo shirt and cargo shorts, the most casual clothes she’d ever seen him in. He looked as good in them as he did in black tie, the shirt hugging the sculpted planes of his chest, the shorts riding low on his lean hips.

‘Sorry.’ He closed his laptop. ‘I just needed to check in with the office.’

‘It’s fine.’ When had Aaron ever apologised for working? It was what he did, who he was. She didn’t want him to change—couldn’t let him, because it would hurt too much.
Everything about this hurt. ‘I’ll just go outside and relax by the pool for a bit.’

‘It’s after lunch time. Shall I bring you something?’

Zoe shrugged. She was a little hungry, although she couldn’t rouse herself enough to do much about it. ‘Sure. Thanks.’ She turned her back on him deliberately, not wanting him to follow her out to the terrace.

He didn’t, and as she stretched out on a sun lounger, the sound of the surf a pleasant background noise to lull her to sleep, she hated the confusing mix of disappointment and relief she felt yet again.

She must have dozed off, for she woke when Aaron came out onto the terrace with a tray of food.

‘I got a little bit of everything,’ he said, and set the tray on the table. ‘Coconut shrimp, avocado salad, sliced pineapple and some grilled fish. What would you like?’

She leaned back against the lounger and closed her eyes; the sun was bright and white-hot against her lids. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

Aaron didn’t answer, but she heard him serving the food, the clink of cutlery and porcelain and then the gentle press of his hand on her shoulder. ‘Here.’

She opened her eyes and saw him looking at her with such blatant concern that her throat went tight. She took the plate.

They ate in silence, and even though the food was delicious Zoe only picked at it. Eventually she pushed it aside and rose from the lounger. ‘I think I’ll have a nap.’

Aaron gazed up at her, his own lunch only half finished. ‘All right.’

Without another word, Zoe escaped the terrace and Aaron’s overwhelming presence for the sanctuary of her bedroom—and sleep.

Yet lying there in bed, with the bright tropical sunlight filtering through the curtains, she found she couldn’t sleep after
all. She kept seeing Aaron in her mind’s eye, that surprising tenderness softening his features, lowering his voice, making him someone she couldn’t stand. Because it would be so easy to turn to him for comfort, to fall even deeper in love with him. She’d been halfway to it when he’d been hard and cold, and she knew if she let herself weaken now it would seal that awful fate.

There was no baby, and therefore no future for them. Aaron was only acting out of solicitude and maybe even guilt; nothing else bound them together. Nothing at all.

It would be better if he just left, Zoe thought. Left her alone here, to sleep away the days, and somehow eventually try to forget everything that had happened.

She finally drifted into a doze and when she awoke it was evening, the light through the curtain now violet and hazy. Zoe rose from the bed and took a shower, hoping to rouse herself from the grogginess that had overtaken her.

She felt only a little better as she came out into the living room and saw Aaron stretched out on the sofa, asleep. She stopped, her heart juddering in her chest. He looked so much softer in sleep, the lines of his face smoothed out, a day’s stubble darkening his chin.

She had a sudden, insane impulse to go to him, to curl into his solid strength and let him put his arms around her. Let him offer her the comfort she so desperately craved.

She didn’t move.

His eyes flickered open and he stared at her, their gazes holding for a long, silent moment. Suddenly Zoe couldn’t think, couldn’t even breathe. She just stared and longed and finally Aaron spoke.

‘Zoe,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m sorry.’

She froze, then forced herself to move past him into the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of water, her hand shaking.

She heard Aaron rise from the sofa and walk towards her. ‘Aren’t you going to say anything?’

‘There’s nothing to say.’

‘I disagree.’

‘Why would there be something to say, Aaron?’ She heard her voice rise on a trembling note and took a deep breath. ‘There’s nothing between us anymore. We have no relationship, no future, nothing to talk about.’

He was silent and she didn’t dare turn around. She didn’t have the strength so much as to see the expression on his face, much less have this conversation. She
wouldn’t
have it.

‘I don’t even know why you’re here,’ she continued, her voice rising again. ‘Unless it’s out of guilt.’

‘Guilt?’ Aaron repeated neutrally. Zoe turned around.

‘Yes, guilt. Because you got what you wanted, didn’t you? And you didn’t even have to pay me a cent, never mind fifty grand.’

She saw Aaron flinch and knew she’d hurt him; she felt a savage twist of both remorse and satisfaction. She wanted to hurt him, wanted to push him away, even if she knew she was hurting herself in the process. ‘You must be celebrating,’ she continued, her voice turning into an awful sneer. ‘Or at least you should be.’

‘Do I look like I’m celebrating, Zoe?’ Aaron asked quietly, his voice turning raw and ragged. ‘Do you honestly think I’m happy about this?’

She scrunched her eyes shut and shook her head. She couldn’t manage any more. She felt his hands curl around her shoulders and he slowly, purposefully drew her to him.

‘Zoe, please stop fighting me. Please stop pushing me away. I want to help you. I want to see you through this.’

‘Why?’ she demanded, her voice choked with tears. With heaving effort she pulled herself away from him. ‘So you can walk away with a clear conscience?’

‘Because I care about you!’ His voice rose in an almost-roar that had them both blinking in shock.

‘It’s too late, Aaron,’ Zoe said after a moment, her voice flat. ‘After everything…’ She shook her head, a cold numbness thankfully stealing over her once more. ‘It’s too late for anything between us now.’

W
HEN
Z
OE CAME
out of her bedroom the next morning, having endured a sleepless, endless night, Aaron was dressed in a business suit. He shut his laptop and slid it into his briefcase.

‘You’re going,’ Zoe said flatly, and he nodded.

‘It seems for the best.’

Which of course it was. It was what she wanted, what she had been pushing him towards last night. Yet in the unforgiving light of day it still hurt—far more than it should.

‘I’ll have someone from the hotel check on you every day,’ he continued, still busy with his briefcase. ‘At least twice a day.’

‘That’s not necessary.’

‘It is.’ He cut her off, his tone relentlessly final. ‘You were very ill, Zoe. You still are. You could have died, you know.’ She heard a faint tremor in his voice and she closed her eyes, fought against the impulse to offer him her own apology, to beg him to stay.

‘Even so.’

‘Dr Adams said you shouldn’t be alone,’ he continued flatly. ‘The only reason I’m leaving at all is because it’s obvious I’m doing more harm than good by staying.’

Guilt speared through her, an awful, sharp-edged thing, lacerating everything it touched. She opened her mouth to say something—but what? How could she explain her own actions
without telling him the truth—that she cared too much for him already, that her grief was so overwhelming she didn’t how to deal with it, how to deal with
him?

‘Goodbye,’ she finally whispered, and she knew that hurt him, too.

The rest of the day dragged endlessly, a monotonous paradise, before the lull was broken by a phone call from Millie.

‘St Julian’s is beautiful, isn’t it?’ she said lightly, although Zoe still heard the thread of anxiety in her sister’s voice.

‘How did you know I was here?’

‘Aaron called me.’

‘Aaron? I didn’t think he was even on speaking terms with you.’

‘He wasn’t,’ Millie answered wryly. ‘But he’s desperate, and he thinks you need someone to talk to. He’s worried about you, Zoe.’

Her throat closed up and she swallowed with effort, forced herself to speak. ‘He has a guilty conscience.’

‘What do you mean?’

Too late she realised she’d revealed too much. She would never tell anyone, much less her sister, about Aaron’s initial offer. ‘Never mind. It doesn’t matter.’

‘How are you doing?’ Millie asked softly and her throat tightened again.

‘I’m fine.’

‘Oh, Zoe. You remember when I kept saying that, after Rob and Charlotte…?’ Even now Millie had trouble talking about her husband and daughter. ‘You’re not fine. You’re never fine when you suffer a loss.’

‘A miscarriage is hardly the same,’ Zoe answered. ‘You’ve suffered far more than I have, Millie. I’ve always known that.’

‘Is that what you think?’ Millie asked quietly. ‘That my grief is more than yours?’

It was always how she’d thought. How could she talk about
her paltry problems—being dumped by her fiancé—when Millie had lost everyone and everything?

‘Zoe,’ Millie said, her voice gentle, ‘grief is grief. And pain is pain. I would never presume to think my experience somehow trumps yours.’

But it did, Zoe filled in silently. It always had. It had been silently and implicitly understood in her family that nothing she ever endured would compare to what Millie had happen to her. She had never attempted to try, had armoured herself with insouciance instead. It was how she’d handled life: lift your chin and laugh it off. Except now she couldn’t. Now she was raw, exposed and vulnerable, hating how much weakness was on display.

‘You shouldn’t be there alone,’ Millie said when Zoe hadn’t said anything—couldn’t. ‘Don’t close yourself off, Zoe. I know how that goes. It’s okay for a little while, and sometimes it’s what you need. But you can’t hide forever.’

‘This is hardly forever.’

‘How long are you planning on staying on St Julian’s?’

‘I don’t know.’ She didn’t have any reason to return to New York, she thought. She no longer worked at the café, and Aaron had arranged a month’s leave of absence from the community centre.

And, even when she was able to resume her work as an art therapist, what about her life? Her friends? She’d kept so much from them over the last few months, and now she felt so changed from the carefree, insouciant woman—girl—she’d been before.

‘Zoe?’ Millie prompted gently. ‘Maybe you should come back to New York. You could stay with me and Chase.’

‘No.’ The word came out too quickly, involuntary and immediate. Instinctive. ‘That’s very kind of you, Millie, but I’m a grown woman. I need to stand on my own two feet.’ Even if she wasn’t doing that now.

‘Then perhaps you should reach out to Aaron,’ Millie said after a moment. ‘I wouldn’t have said this when we talked before, but he cares about you, Zoe. I could tell. He’s really worried about you.’

‘I can’t.’ It was all she could manage.

‘Is there something I don’t know about, something about your relationship?’

Zoe closed her eyes. ‘We don’t have a relationship.’

‘I thought you were thinking of marrying him.’

‘That was when there was a baby.’ She dragged a breath into her lungs. ‘When there was a reason.’

‘And now?’ Millie asked quietly.

‘There’s nothing.’

‘It didn’t seem that way when I talked to Aaron.’

‘All right then, there’s not enough.’ He would never love her. Strange, how she’d convinced herself it hadn’t mattered when she’d been pregnant. Now, with the nothingness that had replaced her hope, she realised how much it did. How much she needed it.

‘Maybe you should give him a chance,’ Millie suggested.

‘You’re the one who said he was a big jerk,’ she snapped. ‘And that he’d break my heart and not even care.’

‘Has he?’ Millie asked quietly.

‘No!’
Because I won’t let him
.

‘Oh, Zoe…’ Millie sighed. ‘I just don’t want you to be on your own. What if—what if I came down? Spent a few days with you? It could be…Well, I won’t say fun.’ She let out a wobbly laugh. ‘But it would be good to see you. I feel like I haven’t seen you properly since I got married.’

‘I know.’ And, even though she’d been deliberately avoiding Millie for most of that time, Zoe knew then that she missed her sister. The thought of seeing her again, having her sweep in and somehow rescue her was tempting—but impossible.

‘I miss you, Mills,’ she said. ‘And I’ll see you when I get back. But I need to be alone right now.’

‘I don’t like the thought of you out there by yourself.’

‘You came here by yourself,’ Zoe objected. ‘Remember? And met Chase.’

‘Are you hoping to meet a Chase?’ Millie teased gently.

‘There’s only one Chase.’ And there was only one Aaron. With a pang Zoe knew which one she wanted to be with.

Aaron spent the flight back to New York focused on work. He forced himself not to think of Zoe, of the accusations she’d spat at him like bullets. And like bullets they’d wounded him, made him bleed.
Did
he care about her now because he felt guilty? It almost seemed like the easy answer when the truth was far more damning.

He cared about her. Full stop. Forget about what they’d been planning before. He cared about her, and it terrified him.

Resolutely he turned back to his work. A mysterious shareholder was quietly buying up stocks in Bryant Enterprises, and Aaron had no idea who it was. Still, he sensed the danger; he’d always sensed the danger, always felt as if he were teetering on the edge of the precipice of disaster. Bankruptcy. Ruin. Shame.

The legacy of his father, the inheritance he’d been given and hidden not just from the world, but his own family. The shame he didn’t want anyone to discover.

Halfway through the flight, he broke down and called Millie. It was an awkward conversation, but a necessary one. He didn’t want Zoe to be completely isolated and alone. She needed someone, even if it wasn’t him.

His mobile phone rang as he landed in New York. Glancing at the luminous screen, Aaron saw that it was his brother
Chase, no doubt checking up on him after his phone call to Millie.

‘Chase.’

‘Hey, Aaron. How’s Zoe?’

‘Not all that great, as you probably know from your wife,’ Aaron answered tersely.

‘Millie’s worried about her.’

‘Of course she is. Zoe has gone through a very difficult time.’

‘She thinks she shouldn’t be alone.’

Aaron gritted his teeth. Like he needed to be told. ‘I agree.’

‘So?’ Chase prompted. ‘Why aren’t you there?’

Aaron felt his fingers ache from gripping the phone so tightly. ‘Because she doesn’t want me there.’

‘I don’t think Zoe is in a position to know what she wants.’

Aaron felt a tiny flicker of doubt—or was it hope? ‘She seemed pretty sure,’ he said gruffly.

‘You said yourself she’s going through a tough time. She’s grieving, Aaron. She’s probably not making sense, even to herself.’

‘I don’t know,’ Aaron said after a moment, and he heard how uncertain he sounded. And he never sounded uncertain, never showed any weakness or doubt. ‘Look,’ he said in a stronger voice, ‘it’s none of your business anyway.’

‘Zoe is Millie’s sister, so that makes it my business,’ Chase answered. ‘And you’re my brother. Aaron, go back. Help her.’

Aaron closed his eyes, felt his throat thicken. He swallowed and forced himself to speak. ‘I don’t know how.’

‘Then tell her exactly that,’ Chase said gently. ‘I think she’ll understand.’

One of his staff had come into the main area of the plane, ready to assist. Grimly Aaron tossed his phone aside. ‘We’ll have to refuel,’ he said. ‘And then we’re heading back to St Julian’s.’

Zoe sat curled up in an armchair in the living room of the villa, the sliding glass doors open to the beach. A gorgeous sunset was streaking across the sky in technicolour glory, sending melting rays of gold and orange over the placid sea, yet she barely noticed it.

She’d spent one day alone and she was ready to climb the walls. Climb out of her own skin, because she couldn’t stand it anymore. Couldn’t stand herself. She drew in a shuddering breath and forced the emotion back. She couldn’t deal with it, would never be able to deal with it.

She heard the door open and looked up, expecting one of the staff returning to clear away the dinner she’d barely touched. Instead her heart seemed to stop right in her chest, for Aaron stood in the foyer looking tired, rumpled and utterly wonderful.

Zoe swallowed, half rising from her chair. ‘What are you doing here?’

Aaron’s gaze narrowed in on her and he tugged at his tie. Funny, how he always wore suits yet he always took his tie off as soon as possible, shed it with a flicker of relief as if he was finally just a little bit free.

‘What am I doing here?’ he repeated as he came towards her. ‘The real question is, why did I ever leave?’ He dropped to his knees in front of her. ‘I’m sorry, Zoe. I never should have left you alone, not even for a minute.’

She stared at him incredulously, longing to touch him, yet afraid to. ‘You must have flown to New York and straight back again.’

‘That’s exactly what I did.’

She shook her head, her throat thick with tears. ‘I was trying to make you leave.’

‘I know you were.’

‘Then why—why did you come back?’

‘Because I’m not going to let you push me away. Because I want to be here, with you, working this out together.’

‘I shouldn’t have—I shouldn’t have said those things to you.’

‘Why did you?’ Aaron asked quietly. ‘Are you angry at me?’

Zoe opened her mouth to deny it and then realised she couldn’t. ‘I don’t know,’ she whispered. ‘I know I shouldn’t be.’

Aaron shook his head, his eyes dark. ‘Maybe you should.’

‘Why?’

‘Because,’ he said bleakly, ‘I didn’t want our child at the start. At least, I convinced myself I didn’t.’

‘That has no bearing on what happened,’ Zoe answered, her voice wobbling noticeably despite her effort to sound reasonable. To feel it. ‘It’s not—it’s not like you caused the pregnancy to be ectopic, Aaron.’

‘I know that.’ He let out a long sigh. ‘But logic doesn’t always trump emotion.’

‘I thought it did with you,’ Zoe said with a small, watery smile.

‘I always meant for it to. But lately…’ He shook his head again, his eyes dark and full of shadows, yet Zoe saw more honesty reflected in them than she’d ever seen before. ‘I don’t know what I feel, Zoe. And I don’t know what you feel. Maybe you want me to go, but I want to be here. With you.’

She felt her throat thicken with tears and she blinked hard. ‘I want you to be here,’ she whispered. ‘But I don’t even know why, or what that means. I don’t know anything, Aaron.’

‘I wouldn’t expect you to,’ Aaron said, his voice rough with emotion. ‘You’re still grieving, Zoe. You’re keeping it all inside, bottling it up. Trust me, I know how that goes. But you’ve got to let it out.’

Her throat was so tight now she could barely speak. She
blinked hard, willing the tears back. She might have admitted more to this man than she’d meant to, but she would not cry in front of him. She would not fall apart, because she knew there would be no putting herself back together again. At least not the way she’d been, the way she wanted to be again.

The way she knew she could never return to.

‘No,’ she finally said, the word strangled on a sob.
‘No.’

‘Zoe.’ She felt Aaron’s hands on her shoulders; she still wouldn’t look at him.

‘Don’t,’ she whispered. ‘Please don’t. I can’t.’

‘Why not?’ he asked gently. His hands were still curled around her shoulders and he was slowly, inexorably drawing her towards him. Zoe didn’t have the strength to resist.

‘Why are you doing this?’ she protested brokenly. ‘You’re the one who told me you hated all that emotional stuff. Quantifiable results, remember?’

‘Maybe I’ve changed.’

‘You
haven’t.’
She didn’t want him to change. Didn’t want to consider what that meant for her, for her heart.

He had drawn her to him, and now he pulled her onto his lap. Zoe went woodenly, unable to resist, yet still possessing enough strength not to curl into him as she wanted to, accept the comfort he was offering.