Loving the Bastard (10 page)

The smell of warm, well-satisfied man surrounding Zeta was a pleasant way to wake up. Sleep, when it came, had been interrupted pleasantly several times by Max’s intense lovemaking. He’d seemed to need it as much as she did. Now, he lay sprawled across her, his thigh lazily slung over one of hers. His face lay between her breasts where he lazily lapped at one nipple in his sleep. Lord knew he’d done it enough while he was awake. She had the urge to smile at that but an ache deep in her chest prevented it. Max always got what he wanted. If that meant he managed her with sex, Zeta had no doubt he’d do just that.

Taking a slow breath, Zeta eased out from under him. If she woke Max and he made love to her again, there was no way she’d survive with her heart intact. She’d be out like a light, not to wake up until she’d had a good eight hours. To say nothing of the pounding her heart would take when she woke only to realize nothing had changed between them. Hell, she was already in for a beating as it was. Her plan to force him to get to know her had backfired in a major way. In the process she’d gotten to know him, and what she found wasn’t altogether bad. There were things about Max she had grown rather fond of over the last few weeks. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. He was still a bastard. Making her fall in love with him was the last straw.

Quietly, she slipped from the bedroom and dressed. She had to get out of there, away from all this. Max’s life wasn’t for her any more than the man was.

“And what might you be up to?”

Zeta closed her eyes. Max. Taking a deep breath, she turned around to face him. “I’m leaving,” she said simply. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the full six months, but I just can’t do this anymore.”

He stood before her nude, not even bothering to sling on a pair of pants. His chiseled body was an aphrodisiac in itself, to say nothing of what he could do with that powerful, beautiful body. “You know I can’t let you go.” There was no inflection in his voice, no expression on his face. Did the man feel nothing at all? “I’ll pull the plug on your father’s finances if you don’t honor at least that six-month agreement.”

Zeta hadn’t realized it until Max threatened to cut off her father, but she was done allowing her father to control her, especially in this. It was because of her father that she was in this situation to begin with. “I can’t help that. I guess he’ll just have to find an alternative. If not, I’ll be happy to help him rebuild.”

“I suppose it’s all for the best,” he commented, leaning one hip against the couch as he crossed his arms over that brawny chest. It was hard for Zeta to pay attention to what he was saying. The smattering of hair across his pecs trailing down his rigid belly to the nest of curls surrounding his cock made her fingers itch to rake her nails over all those muscles. “I’ve been giving this a bit more thought, and I think you were right in your assessment that first day. Marrying a black woman in this part of the country might not be to my best advantage.” The corner of his lips quirked upward in a condescending sneer. “But I’d be happy to keep you as my mistress. Lord knows the sex is better than anything I’ve ever had.”

And just like that, any hope Zeta might have had he’d convince her to stay, that he’d give her something to cling to of the Maximilian she knew hid cleverly inside the persona of a bastard, evaporated like so much smoke on the wind.

* * *

Max saw the exact moment Zeta snapped. He had no idea why he’d said what he had. Hell, he hadn’t even meant it. Well, all except the “best sex he’d ever had” bit. He was just getting back at her for trying to leave him. Why he’d lashed out in that particular manner he had no idea, but the second the words left his mouth he regretted them. The next second Zeta had taken in a sharp breath before stepping into him and delivering a hard slap across his face.

He held her gaze, refusing to look away, needing to hold some kind of connection with her. “I suppose I deserved that,” he said quietly.

“Bastard!” she snapped, tears gathering in her eyes. “You can go straight to hell.”

“Zeta… I —”

“Shut up!” She lunged for him again, her palm ready to deliver yet another blow. This time, he caught her wrist, pulling her against him. “Let me go! You don’t get to touch me ever again!”

“I’m sorry,” he said as calmly as he could, not letting her go, afraid that once he did she would be forever out of his reach. “What I said was uncalled for.”

“Let me go, Max.” Her voice was calm, but tears still shimmered in her eyes. Somehow she kept them from falling when he knew he’d hurt her horribly.

For several moments, Max thought about forcing the issue, regretting his hasty words more and more with each passing second, the pain in his chest building until he was certain his heart would burst. But holding her captive wouldn’t help him. Knowing it was time to retreat, he released her. Immediately, Zeta backed away, looking at him with contempt and wariness.

“I’ll send for my things,” she finally said. “Do whatever you have to with Dad. Just leave me alone.” Gathering up her purse and keys, Zeta walked quickly from the room with her head held high.

Right out of his life.

“I’m not going, Dad.” Zeta once again found herself doing her father’s bidding. This time, it was a fundraiser, not for her father’s company, but for a community women’s shelter. The one adjacent to the Y where she taught the children. That reason alone was why Zeta knew she’d give in. Owen wanted her to go to present a strong front for his company. He hadn’t said anything about her ending the arrangement between her and Max weeks ago, but Zeta figured Owen was hoping to present the fiction his company was doing fine. He was likely too preoccupied with this event to question her about it. Zeta honestly had no clue how the company was doing because she hadn’t resumed her duties at her father’s business since she’d left Max. She just didn’t have the heart to see just how badly her decision had hurt her father.

“Of course you’re going,” Owen said without hesitation. “This is right up your alley. Besides, if I hadn’t suggested you go, you’d already be planning ways to bring in more money to the event.” It didn’t help Zeta’s humor that her father was right.

“Fine. But I’m not there to represent Lawless Real Estate.”

Owen scowled, but turned his back to hide it. Zeta would mention her father’s business if she had to, but she would go to actually raise money for the shelter, not her father. “That’s fine, dear,” he finally said, though he didn’t turn around. “Just have a good time. You’ve seemed a bit…strained the past few days.”

“How perceptive of you to notice,” she snapped. “Being sold to the highest bidder tends to do that to me every time.”

Owen actually grinned, if a bit sheepishly. Rubbing the back of his neck, he extended a hand to her as if he expected her to just take it, to accept him back into her life as their relationship had been before. “Now, Zeta. You know I had to do everything I could to protect your future. This company
is
your future.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Dad.” Zeta waited until he dropped his hand before continuing. “My future is supposed to be with a husband who loves me and children we create together with love. A company can’t give me the kind of fulfillment.”

“No one said you couldn’t have all that with Maximilian.”

“No one had to. It’s a given.”

“You don’t know that until you try.” How could he stand there and sound so reasonable when what he was suggesting was
anything
but reasonable?

Instead of arguing with him, Zeta simply turned her back on her father. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” She took a breath and squared her shoulders but didn’t turn around to face him. “I’m going to the event. But I’m not representing Lawless Real Estate. If you don’t like it, you can damned well go yourself.”

Zeta was amazed at how little it bothered her to go against her father. It wasn’t that she wanted to; it was just that she knew that giving in to him would start the chain of events all over again. Going back to Max simply wasn’t an option for her. Not now. Not ever.

It was a black tie event. Normally, she had a little black dress she wore to these things. However, given the traitorous mood she was in, Zeta was definitely not wearing black. Tonight, she needed to feel like a desirable woman. Tired of moping around after such an emotional rollercoaster, Zeta looked through her closet until she found the perfect dress to make a woman feel beautiful.

* * *

The last few weeks without Zeta had been a special kind of hell for Max. At first he’d tried to ignore the nagging loneliness by throwing himself into his work, but he’d been too distracted to accomplish much. He’d never felt lonely in his life! Now, he was swamped with missing Zeta like he’d miss his right arm. He sometimes found himself just standing in the middle of her room trying to inhale the remaining scent of wildflowers and jasmine she’d left behind just so he could feel close to her.

Fuck that shit!

But getting her back was going to be hell. She wouldn’t answer his calls, she wouldn’t answer her door, and she wasn’t at work. He knew she’d holed up, but decided against an actual invasion of her privacy. Patience had always been his strong suit. Now would be no different.

When he heard about the fundraiser for one of the local women’s shelters, Max knew he had her. It was the shelter adjacent to the Y where she tutored her kids. There was no way Zeta wouldn’t be there.

Even as much as he needed to find Zeta, to get her back, Max wanted to be anywhere but where he was. He’d gone to the charity event stag, but it seemed like every fucking ex-girlfriend he’d ever had was there. Hanging all over him. Grinding his teeth, he continued to survey the room. The only woman he wanted to see was conspicuously absent. Max knew Zeta would be here, but where the hell was she? He was just about to say fuck it and snag Samson to help him actively hunt for Zeta when he spotted her…and lost his breath.

Zeta wore a dress of deep scarlet that hugged every single mouthwatering curve she had. Walking through the crowd of wealthy businessman, she was like a beacon of everything any of them could ever dream of in a woman. The dress stopped at mid-thigh, and the straps were made of braided gold. When she turned, Max nearly groaned aloud. The material swayed low on her back, nearly revealing the dimples at the base of her spine. More braided straps ran across her shoulders, the middle of her back, and just above the base of her spine. Stiletto heels with thin straps around her ankles completed the look and accentuated every muscle in her long, shapely legs to perfection. A cascade of curls dropped over one shoulder where she’d pulled her wealth of long, lustrous hair to one side. Every male eye in the place seemed to in her, and Max didn’t blame them. She was simply stunning.

“Max, have you been listening to a word I’ve said?” The tall, thin blonde currently hanging on his arm pouted prettily. He’d dated her briefly, but she’d gotten clingy in a big way. At the time Max remembered thinking there wasn’t a woman in the world who could tempt him that much, least of all this one. Well, at least he was right about part of it. Charleen definitely didn’t tempt him. Zeta, on the other hand, did more than merely tempt him. She’d bewitched him into needing her more than he needed air to breathe. She’d brought warmth into his heart, shown him how life should be lived. Zeta had forced him out of his shell, showed him how to care about a little scrap of a boy living in poverty, and taught Max how to love. The revelation was like a blow to the head. His ears rang as if he really had been clocked.

“Max!”

Charleen clung to his arm like she owned him, demanding his full attention when all Max wanted to do was untangle himself and get to Zeta. “If you’ll excuse me, Charleen, I see someone I need to talk to.”

Before he could untangle himself from Charleen, another woman—LeAnne—sidled up to him, running her palm up his shirtfront to rest on his chest. “I hear you’re offering yourself up at the auction tonight,” she purred in her contralto voice. Max could vaguely remember finding her slightly husky voice sexy at one time, but now the sound grated on his nerves. The woman was a natural redhead with nearly flaming orange hair and a wealth of freckles he’d also found erotic as hell. Now, all he could think about was unblemished milk chocolate skin he longed to lick from top to bottom…and every place in between.

“Maybe,” he said, his eyes on Zeta as he tried to get away from the two women without making a scene. “I have to go…”

Just as both women tightened their hold, neither willing to give up her prize, Zeta turned her head. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Max swore he could see every bounce of every curl on her head. The long sweep of her lashes veiled those soulful dark eyes for the briefest moment before she raised her gaze…and met his almost as if she knew he’d been staring at her.