The Perfect Kiss (11 page)

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Authors: Amanda Stevens

BOOK: The Perfect Kiss
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“You will be careful, won’t you?”

Zach looked at her in surprise. “Careful? As in conservative?” He laughed. “What’s the matter, Mother? Are you already starting to have doubts about your appointment?”

“I know you, Zach. I know how impulsive you can be, how headstrong and—”

“Unreasonable? Stubborn? A born troublemaker?” Zach finished for her. It was an old argument, and one he’d long since given up trying to win. He never would amount to anything but a failure in his parents’ eyes. He’d never be anything more than a wild, reckless kid who’d had a nose for trouble. He’d never be anything more than the irresponsible twenty-year-old who had killed his father’s favorite son.

Zach drained his glass. “Oh, yeah, I know the whole scenario. The old man used to delight in telling me every chance he got, remember?”

“And God knows you gave him plenty of chances,” Kathryn said, with more heat than he’d ever witnessed in her. But almost immediately the mask of indifference settled back into place.

He was the one who should be angry, Zach thought. He should be mad as hell over her lack of affection, her unwillingness to stand up for him. But after so many years, he’d schooled his own emotions too well. All he felt now was his own kind of apathy. And perhaps just a trace of regret.

What he still couldn’t understand was why she had been so adamant about his appointment.

Kathryn smoothed back her hair as though soothing the small eruption of emotion inside her. “Your father never meant to be unkind, Zach. But you
were
all those things, and you took great delight in flaunting your little rebellions in his face. I suspect you still do.”

“What’s
that
supposed to mean?”

Kathryn motioned vaguely with one hand. “What else is this little show all about? You’ve taken the industry by storm. You’ve shaken up a company that’s been wallowing in its own complacency for over a decade. You went directly against your father’s advice when you began this
campaign, when you hired that model. You’ve done in three months what your father seemed unable to do in years. I suspect, whether you know it or not, this is your way of rubbing his nose in it.”

“Would you believe me if I denied it?” Zach asked, his bitterness mounting in spite of his resolve. “Regardless of what you, or anyone else thinks, I’m doing this for the good of the company. There’s nothing personal involved at all.”

He turned back to the crowd, letting his gaze scan the laughing faces until he spotted Anya. She was still talking to Roland Sutton, but at that exact moment, she looked up and her eyes met Zach’s. He felt the impact somewhere inside his gut, felt his objectivity take a flying leap out the nearest window.

It’s nothing personal, he reminded himself. Just business.

But he still couldn’t look away. Not even when Anya broke the eye contact first. Not even when his mother’s grip on his arm tightened. Not even when he mentally called himself nine kinds of a fool.

He and his mother stood in awkward silence for a moment, then Kathryn said, “What do you know about that woman?” Her tone was casual, but her eyes were sharp, intuitive. Not pleased.

Zach frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I remember the furor ten years ago when she dropped out of sight. I still remember the talk within the industry. At seventeen, she was one of the most sought-after models in the world, and then, overnight, she just disappeared. Walked away from all her commitments. What’s to stop her from doing so again? A lot of time and money had been invested in her career, Zach. A lot of people were hurt because of her. I can’t help wondering…”

“What?”

She hesitated. “I can’t help wondering if perhaps you
should have listened to your father this time, if you should have heeded his advice. It’s not too late to go to him—”

Zach looked at her in disbelief. “Is
that
what all this is about? I’ve been racking my brain for months, trying to figure out your motives. Now I know. You set me up to fail, didn’t you, Mother?”

“That’s ridiculous—”

“Is it? I don’t think so. I’ve never known you to do anything without some hidden agenda. You wanted me to have to go running back to him, begging for help. You wanted to assuage his pride at the expense of mine. That’s it, isn’t it?” In spite of his control, Zach felt a great wave of anger rolling over him. What a fool he’d been not to see it. “Well, don’t hold your breath, Mother,” he said harshly. “What you’ve done is made me more determined than ever. There’s no way this campaign will fail. I’ll see to that.”

* * *

Exhausted, weak and trembling, Anya slipped down a darkened hallway in the Renee Alexander offices. The party had been going for hours, it seemed. The champagne had continued to flow, and the crowd had become loud and boisterous, even more aggressive. Anya had smiled until her jaws ached. She’d evaded question after question concerning her past.

And somehow, God knows how, she’d managed to beat back the growing panic inside her.

So many people crowding around her.

So much temptation.

The heat of their bodies had surrounded her, enveloped her in a living, breathing blanket of need. The echo of their heartbeats had pounded in her head, had vibrated all the way through her, touching, arousing, tormenting the darkness deep down inside her. Their emotions, their innermost
thoughts had clamored through her mind, demanding attention. Demanding to be used against them.

How easy. How very simple to single one out, to use his admiration and his secret desires to lure him closer and closer and closer….

She thought about Roland Sutton, about his greed and jealousy and ambition, emotions that could so easily be used to manipulate. Sutton hated Zach, and that would have made it even easier for Anya.

Disgusted by her thoughts, she leaned against the wall, steadying her breathing. Control, she ordered herself. She’d had ten long years to learn it, but being put on display had been every bit the ordeal she’d feared it would be.

She’d agreed to one public appearance, and now that part of the bargain was over. She could relax. She could breathe again. She could go somewhere dark and cool and quiet. She could put in check once again that growing restlessness inside her. That darkening need. That insatiable yearning.

The hunger.

A wave of dizziness washed over her as she put a name to her desperation. Her vision blurred, and Anya lifted a shaking hand to cover her eyes. Her stomach rolled sickeningly. She’d been too long in the light, and it had left her weakened and vulnerable. She had to get out of here, now, before it was too late.

Voices sounded at the end of the hallway, and Anya looked up in fright. She didn’t want to see anyone right now. Didn’t dare. She felt too exposed. Too…needy.

A doorway opened from a small recessed area near the other end of the hallway. Anya hurried down the corridor and quickly stepped into the shadows of the alcove. The knob turned noiselessly in her hand and the door swung open. As silent as a breeze, she slipped inside, closing the door softly behind her. The voices grew louder in the hallway,
then subsided as the group walked on by. Anya let out a sigh of relief as she leaned against the door.

And then she saw him. The one person who could so easily make her lose her discipline. The one who aroused her passion. The one whose blood tempted her the most…

He stood silhouetted against the window, his back to the door. The dark concealed him, but Anya didn’t need lights to know who he was. Somehow, in her desperation, she’d managed to stumble through a side entrance into Zach’s office.

He didn’t turn around, and she wondered if he’d even heard her come in. The solidness of his shoulders and back and the masculine tapering of his waist were highlighted in the moonlight. He stood gazing out the window, lost to the world, and once again Anya sensed—felt—a bitterness as dark as her own.

His emotions were a mate to hers and, therefore, twice as dangerous. Anya was feeling too susceptible tonight. Too vulnerable. And she wanted him with an ache that made her feel dazed and weak. With every ounce of her willpower, she made herself reach out and grasp the doorknob once again. She would leave before he saw her, before—

“Anya?”

She looked up, surprised to find that his back was still to her. Yet he had known it was her. Had sensed her presence. Had felt the bond. Her mouth went dry. Her knees felt like water.

Leave him! Leave now!

But she stood there and waited for him to turn toward her. She stood there and gazed at him in fascination.

He smiled at her in the moonlight, and her heart thundered in her ears. He took a step toward her. Oh, God. Oh, dear God…

“I thought it was you.”

She closed her eyes briefly, willing her control. “How? How did you know it was me?”

“Your scent. I smelled the Seduction.”

“Every woman in the room was wearing that perfume tonight. How could you be so sure it was me?”

“Because Seduction smells unique on you. More…powerful.” His voice was deep and low, blatantly masculine.

Did he know what his own unique essence was doing to her? The scent of warm male, rushing blood…

Anya’s senses spun out of control.

Danger, danger, danger! Her internal alarms were screaming the warning. But another part of her, the darker side, the side she tried so hard to deny, made her hand release the knob, made her return his smile.

“Seduction is a powerful scent on anyone, Zach.” Her own voice was breathless. She sounded desperate and wanting, and she hated it. Loved it. Her pulse hammered in her throat. She blotted her damp hands on the sides of her dress as she continued to stare at Zach. Then slowly, very slowly, she crossed the room to stand beside him.

He studied her warily, as though battling his own inner demons. Suddenly, he shuttered his expression, and his face became hard to read in the moonlight, even for her. “I see you made a new conquest tonight.”

She moistened dry lips as she stared at his mouth. “Conquest?”

“Roland Sutton. He’s a senior member of the board, and one of my most vocal opponents. As a matter of fact, he wanted my job. Had every reason to expect to get it.”

“He doesn’t like you,” Anya agreed, then winced at her bluntness.

But Zach didn’t seemed offended. He stared down at her
in the darkness and grinned. “An understatement, if ever I’ve heard one.”

“He’s jealous of you. You have everything he wants—money, power, respect. But mostly you have youth.”

“Youth,” Zach scoffed, turning back to the window. “Sometimes I feel a hundred years old.”

“You have a lot of responsibilities and challenges for someone your age. It must all seem a little overwhelming at times.”

Zach seemed surprised by her intuitiveness. He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. “Maybe. But I don’t run from my responsibilities.” He placed a soft emphasis on the last pronoun, then added, almost regretfully, “Or challenges.”

“No,” Anya agreed. “In fact, I would guess that you thrive on challenges.”

They were discussing generalities, but Anya knew, by the subtle gleam in Zach’s eyes, that the conversation had turned personal.

A dangerous thing.

She should leave. Now. Before her emotions raged out of control again. She didn’t trust herself tonight. Not with Zach. Not with him looking at her the way he was looking at her. Not with the sound of his heartbeats echoing through the room. Not with the knowledge of the sweet, warm blood racing through his veins.

And how easy it could be! How very simple to reach up and trace the golden streaks of sunlight in his hair, to gaze deep into the verdant depths of his beautiful eyes, to touch his soul.

How extraordinary it would be to walk into his arms, to feel his heart beating against her breast, to feel the warmth of his skin against her coolness as his blood heated them both.

How exquisite it would be to feel the throb of his pulse against her lips, to taste his skin with her tongue. How simple and extraordinary and exquisite it would all be….

And then what? When her emotions became untamable? When her desires raged like wildfire? What would be the result? Paradise, to be sure, but oh so fleeting…

And then darkness. An eternity of darkness. Of shame. Of guilt and grief and bitter remorse.

An eternity without love. Without Zach.

The last thought surprised her. She had known from the first she was drawn to him, but something stronger seemed to be building inside her. Something wondrous and beautiful and frightening. Frightening because of the possibilities. The visions.

What about eternity
with
Zach?

Anya closed her eyes as the thought ripped through her. An eternity spent dancing through the years, drifting endlessly on the oceans of time. Not alone anymore. But with Zach.

The power of the moment stunned her. He could be hers. He could be hers forever. How simple and extraordinary and exquisite an idea….

Slowly she turned and gazed up at him, letting him see the naked hunger in her eyes. She stared deep into his eyes, willing his devotion to the surface, coaxing his passion, touching his deepest needs.

His eyes darkened with desire. He stared down at her in fascination as his hand drifted upward, brushing his knuckles across her cheek. It was a gesture infinitely tender, and it made Anya’s ache grow even stronger. He could never know the bittersweetness of his touch. She reached up and her hand closed over his, trapping him to her.

His head lowered, and his lips were only inches from hers. Oh, the torment! The divine agony of anticipation, the
exquisite prolonging of the moment that would bind them together forever. The moment that would end her yearning, her hunger.

That perfect kiss…

She could feel his skin hot against hers. Burning. Searing. Blazing a path all the way to her heart. His mere touch filled her with elation, with glorious sensation. The emptiness inside her exploded with fire. The blackness that was her soul flamed with color.

What would his kiss do to her? What would—

Oh, God, what would it be like to always have him so near? To always feel his tender warmth, his blazing passion just a breath away from her?

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