A Perfect Husband (3 page)

“It’s not something I advertise.”

Unlike the lavish parties he regularly attended and the endless stream of gorgeous models he escorted. Although, flying did fit with his love of extreme sports: diving, kitesurfing and snowboarding, to name a few. Zane had a wel -publicized love for anything that involved adrenaline.

It occurred to Lilah, as she jammed the folder in her tote bag, out of sight, that she didn’t know what Lucas liked to do in his spare time. She must make the effort to find out.

Zane shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it over the arm of the seat across the aisle. “How long have you been afraid of flying?”

Lilah tore her gaze from the snug fit of his black T-shirt and the muscular swel of tanned biceps. She was certain that beyond an intoxicating whiff of sandalwood she could detect the scent of his skin.

Her blush deepened as she was momentarily flung back to the night of The Episode. Zane had suggested they go to an empty reception room so they could indulge their mutual passion for art by studying the oils displayed on the wal s.

She couldn’t remember much about the garish abstracts.

She would never forget the moment Zane had pul ed her close. The clean, masculine scent of his skin and the exotic undernote of sandalwood had fil ed her nostrils, making her head spin. When he had kissed her, his taste had fil ed her mouth.

Somehow they had ended up on a wide, comfortable couch. At some point the bodice of her dress had drifted to her waist, a detail that should have alarmed her. Zane had taken one breast in his mouth and her whole body had coiled unbearably tight. She could remember clutching at his shoulders, a flash of dizzying, heated pleasure, the room shimmering out of focus.

If the door hadn’t popped open at that moment and Zane’s date, who was also his previous personal assistant, a gorgeous redhead cal ed Gemma, hadn’t walked in, Lilah shuddered to think what would have happened next. She had dragged her bodice up and clambered off the couch.

By the time she had found her clutch, which had ended up underneath the couch, Zane had shrugged into his jacket.

After a clipped good-night, he had left with Gemma.

The echoing silence after the heady, intimate passion had stung. He had not suggested they meet again, which had put The Episode in its horrifying context.

Zane had not wanted a relationship; he had just wanted an interlude. Sex. He had probably thought they had been on the verge of a one night stand, that she was
easy
.

Embarrassingly, she
had
forgotten every relationship rule she had rigidly stuck to for the twelve years she had been dating.

Zane walking out so quickly then never bothering to fol ow up with a telephone cal or text had been a blessing. It had confirmed what she had both read about him and discovered firsthand—that no matter how attractive, he could not be trusted in a relationship. If he couldn’t commit to a phone cal , it was unlikely he would commit to marriage.

Another shuddering crash of thunder jerked her back to the present.

Aware that Zane was waiting for an answer, she busied herself fastening her seat belt. “I’ve been afraid of flying forever.”

Instead of sitting where he’d slung his jacket, Zane lowered himself into the seat next to hers.

She stiffened as he pried her hand off the armrest. “What are you doing?”

His fingers curled warmly through hers. “Holding your hand. Tried-and-true remedy.”

Nervous tension, along with the tingling heat of his touch, zinged through her at the skin-on-skin contact. There was something distinctly forbidden about holding hands with Zane Atraeus.

Il egitimate and wild, according to the tabloids, Zane had been the instant ruination of hundreds of women, and promised to be the ruination of even more in the future. She had the shattering firsthand knowledge of exactly how that ruination was achieved.

She flexed her fingers, but his hold didn’t loosen.

“Shouldn’t you be in the cockpit?”

“Flight deck. There’s a copilot, Spiros. He doesn’t need me yet.”

Her stomach clenched as she was suddenly reminded that they were twenty-eight thousand feet above the ground.

“How long is the flight?”

“Twenty hours, give or take. We land in Singapore to refuel. If you don’t like flying, why are you going to Medinos?”

Trying to arrange her future with a steady, reliable husband who would not leave her. Trying to avoid the Cole women’s regrettable tendency to fal victim to the
coup de
foudre
.

Her head started to swim, and it was not just the dizzying effect of the sandalwood. She remembered that she had taken two sedatives. “Trying to get a life. I’m twenty-nine.”

She blinked. She was beginning to feel as if she was swimming in molasses. Had she actual y told him her age?

“Twenty-nine doesn’t seem so old to me.”

She smothered a yawn and frowned at the defensive note in his voice.

“What did you take?”

Her lids slid closed. She gave him the name of the sedative.

“They’l knock you out. I can remember having them as a kid. After my father found me in L.A., we flew to Medinos. I was a handful. I didn’t like flying, either.”

Curiosity kept her on the surface of sleep, caught in the net of his deep, cool voice and fascinated by the dichotomy of his character. She had read his story on the charity website. One of the things she admired about Zane was that he happily revealed his past in order to help homeless kids.

“Put your head on my shoulder if you want.”

The quiet offer sent a warning thril through her. She considered leaning against the window, but the thought that the shutter might slide open and she would catch a view clear down to the ground was not pleasant. “No, thank you.”

She struggled to stay upright. “You’re nicer than I thought.”

“Tel me,” he muttered, “I’m curious. You’ve known me for two years. How did you think I would be?”

Her lids flickered open. Exactly how he had been the night of the bal . Dangerous, sexy.
Hot
.

With an effort of wil , she control ed her mind, which had shot off on a very wrong tangent. Zane had probably been in intimate situations with more women than he could count.

She doubted he would even remember how close they had come to making love. Or that she had actual y—

She cut short that disturbing thought and searched for something polite to say. As an Atraeus, Zane was one of her employers now. She would have to adjust to the new dynamic.

Her stomach tensed at a thought she had cheerful y glossed over before. If she and Lucas married, their relationship would be even closer; he would be her brother-in-law. “Uh—for a start, I didn’t think you even liked me.”

“Was that after what happened on the couch or before?”

The flashback to the sensations that had flooded her that night was electrifying. From the knowing gleam in Zane’s gaze, she was abruptly certain he knew exactly what had happened.

Embarrassed heat warmed her cheeks. He had been lying on top of her at the time. She would be naive to consider that he had not noticed that she had lost control and actual y had an orgasm.

He had to know also that if Gemma hadn’t turned up dangling car keys and making them jump guiltily apart, that she had been on the verge of making an even bigger mistake. “I’m surprised you remember.”

“Lucas won’t marry you.”

The sudden change of topic jerked her lids open. The dark fire burning in Zane’s eyes almost made her forget what she was about to say. “Lucas isn’t the only one with a choice.”

“Choose someone else.”

Lilah’s heart slammed against the wal of her chest. For a split second, she’d had the crazy thought that Zane had been about to say, “Choose
me
.”

From an early age she had discovered that men liked the way she looked. Something in the slant of her eyes, the curve of her cheekbones, the shape of her mouth, spel ed sexual al ure. On occasion attraction had spil ed over into an uncomfortable fascination, although she had never thought that Zane Atraeus would find her more than ordinarily attractive.

She dragged in a lungful of air and tried to deny the heart-pounding knowledge that behind the grim tone Zane Atraeus real y did want her. “What gives you the right—?”

“This.”

Zane bent toward her, his head dipped. Her pulse rate rocketed.

For two years she had tortured herself about her loss of control. Now, final y, she was being offered the chance to examine what, exactly, had gone wrong.

She caught another enticing whiff of clean skin and exotic cologne. Dimly, she noted that the concept of her ruination had receded, a dangerous sign, although she was stil in control. She had time to shift in her seat. If she wanted she could turn her head—

Warm fingers gripped her chin. The pressure of his mouth on hers almost stopped her heart.

Suddenly, the electrical hum every time he looked at her coalesced into stunning truth. The double whammy of her ticking biological clock combined with prolonged celibacy was the reason she was having such a difficult time control ing her responses to Zane.

Relief surged through her. She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought about that two years ago. It was the logical explanation. Zane had caught her at a vulnerable moment at the charity bal . She simply hadn’t had the resources to resist him.

Jerking back from the seductive softness of the kiss, Lilah gulped in air.

The experience had been so riveting that the harder she had tried to suppress the memories, the more aggressively they had surfaced—in her dreams, her painting.

She had to get a grip on herself. She could not afford to take him seriously. According to the tabloids, the youngest Atraeus brother was the dark side of the mega wealthy Atraeus family, wild and dangerous to know, the bad as opposed to the good.

Which only went to prove that her judgment when it came to men was no better than her mother’s or her grandmother’s before her.

A little wildly she decided that the attraction was no bigger a deal for Zane than it had been two years ago. But that didn’t change the disturbing knowledge that, if anything, she was in an even more vulnerable position now. The sensations already coursing through her body had the potential to destroy the future she had mapped out for herself.

She could not let that happen.

She was strong-wil ed. She had steered clear of intense emotions and casual flings al of her adult life. She was not going to mess up now.

With a younger man.

Zane was twenty-four, twenty-five at most, and with no sign of tempering his fast, edgy lifestyle with the encumbrances of a wife and family. He could say what he liked about his brother, but on paper, Lucas
was
perfect. He was older, more mature, ready to commit and without the wild reputation.

Those minutes on the couch with Zane and the experience of losing control and almost giving herself to a man who had demonstrated that he did not care for her had been salutary.

She knew the danger of her weakness now. On top of the healthy sex drive that came with her Cole genes, her biological clock was ticking loudly in both ears.

The thought that Zane could make her pregnant sent a hot flash through her that momentarily welded her to the seat before she managed to dismiss the notion.

Zane was not husband material. Al she had to do was ignore the magnetic power of the attraction and her raging hormones, ignore the destructive impulse to throw her wedding plan away.

And throw herself beneath Zane’s naked body.

Three

After a formal family dinner at the Atraeus family’s Medinian castel o the fol owing evening, Lilah excused herself from the table while coffee was being served. Lucas had left some twenty minutes earlier, during dessert. His defection had been no great surprise because through the course of the evening she had become grimly certain that he was involved with another woman.

After obtaining directions from one of the kitchen staff, she paused by the door to Lucas’s private suite. Stiffening her shoulders against the chil of the Mediterranean fortress wal s, she rapped on the imposing door.

Lean brown fingers manacled her wrist. “I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”

Lilah spun, shocked by the deep, cool voice and the knowledge that Zane had left the dinner table and fol owed her.

Snatching her wrist back, she rubbed at the bare skin, which stil tingled and burned from his grip.

She dragged her gaze from his overlong jet-black hair and the trio of studs glinting in one lobe. An unwanted surge of awareness added to the tension that had gripped her ever since she had arrived at the castel o that evening and seen Lucas in the arms of Carla Ambrosi.

Lucas and Carla had a short but wel -publicized past, which Lilah had mistakenly believed to be invented media hype. To further complicate things, Carla was Lilah’s immediate boss.

Zane indicated the closed door. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? Lucas is…busy.”

The startling notion that, beneath the casual facade, Zane was quietly angry was shattered by the distant sound of laughter and the tap of high heels. More guests leaving the dining table, no doubt in search of one of the castel o’s bathrooms.

Suddenly, the stunning risk Lilah had taken in traveling thousands of miles for a first date with an extremely wealthy man whose love life was of interest to the tabloids came back to haunt her. He had fulfil ed al of the criteria of her system. Now things were going disastrously wrong.

Zane jerked his head in the direction of the approaching guests. “I take it you don’t want to be discovered knocking on Lucas’s bedroom door?”

A wave of embarrassed heat decimated the chil . “No.”

“Final y, some sense.” Zane’s fingers curled around her wrist again.

The startling intimacy of the hold sent another tingling jolt through her. A split second later, heart pounding with nerves, she found herself crushed against Zane’s side and flattened against the cold stone of an alcove. She inhaled, bracing herself against the effect of the sandalwood and the sudden, nervous desire to laugh.