His Brand of Passion (3 page)

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.

S
HE 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.’