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Authors: Kate Hewitt

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BOOK: His Brand of Passion
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She knew they couldn’t have sex. She didn’t want to endanger her pregnancy, and she knew Aaron wouldn’t take that risk either. Yet the need between them was palpable, overwhelming. Aaron’s hand slid from her shoulder along her bare arm, the touch of his fingers seeming to dust her with sparks. He dipped his head lower and Zoe’s own fell back, her lips parted and waiting for his kiss, every nerve inside her buzzing and humming.

‘Zoe…’ Her name was the softest of sighs and she felt his thumb brush her lower lip. She let out a tiny sound of want, halfway between a mewl and a moan.

With a shuddering breath, Aaron stepped away. ‘You should go to bed.’

She felt as if he’d doused her with ice-water but somehow Zoe managed to nod, disappointment, a little relief and a terrible, aching unfulfillment all warring within her. ‘Yes, I should.’

Aaron turned away, raking his hands through his hair before yanking off his tie. Zoe watched him, knowing he had to be as sexually frustrated as she was. She didn’t want the evening to end here. She didn’t want to go to bed alone. She swallowed, her throat dry, her heart beating hard.

‘Aaron…’

‘What?’ His back was still to her, every taut line of his beautiful body radiating tension.

She shouldn’t want this. Definitely shouldn’t ask for it. Yet something—some great, deep need that had opened up inside her—compelled her to continue, to say aloud what she so desperately craved. ‘Would you…sleep with me tonight? I mean just sleep. In the same bed.’

Aaron stilled, said nothing. Zoe felt herself flush, her insides seeming to hollow out. Then he slowly turned around; in the moonlit darkness she couldn’t make out his expression. Not that she would have been able to, anyway.

‘What for?’

What for?
Did she really have to spell it out? Apparently. ‘For company. And closeness. And because…’ She swallowed, her voice dropping to a ragged whisper. ‘I’m lonely.’

He stared at her for a long moment. ‘I always sleep alone.’

‘You slept with me that night—that other night.’ She licked her lips, her mouth so dry she felt as if she’d swallowed dust. She hated that she was trying to argue him into it.

‘That was—an aberration.’

Small concession as that was, it gratified her. With her, he was different. He could be different. ‘And so? Tonight can be an aberration, too.’

He shook his head slowly. ‘Everything between us has been an aberration, Zoe.’

That didn’t sound good, even as she recognised it for truth. Nothing between them had been normal, not even this. ‘So what are you saying?’ Her voice was small when she wanted it to be strident. ‘Is that a no?’

‘I…’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t know what it is. I’m not—I’m not good at this.’

‘Good at what?’

He gestured between the two of them with one impatient hand.
‘This.’

Everything, she supposed. Conversation. Closeness. A relationship. All the things she wanted, even if she knew she shouldn’t. He glared at her, yet underneath the anger in his eyes she saw fear, and it made her heart contract.

‘I’m not so good at it, either,’ she said quietly.

He let out a huff of disbelieving laughter. ‘Really.’

‘Really.’ She took a deep breath. ‘What scares you more, Aaron—that you don’t know how or that you want to?’


Want
to?

‘Do you want to?’ She stepped closer, gazing at him with all the honesty, hope and fear she felt. The words spilled out of her, needing to be spoken even though it might be the stupidest and most dangerous thing she’d ever said or done. ‘Do you want something between us? I’m not saying I even know what it is.’ She laid one hand on his arm and felt the muscles jump underneath her light touch. ‘I’m not pushing for some—some kind of a relationship.’

‘A relationship,’ Aaron repeated tonelessly.

‘But I feel something for you. And I think you feel something for me.’ Zoe held her breath. Had she just ruined everything? Pushed too hard…again? Yet already she felt more for Aaron than she’d ever expected to, and it felt
real
. Not like the times before, when she’d forced a relationship because she’d been so desperate to prove she was lovable, that she wouldn’t be rejected like before, and then of course she had been.

Except maybe she was still living in that fantasy world, because Aaron didn’t say anything. He just stared at her, the darkness in his eyes and the grim set of his mouth making Zoe pretty sure he did not like having this conversation.

‘I don’t know what I feel,’ he finally said, and Zoe felt incredulous hope unfurl inside her, start to bloom. It wasn’t much of an admission, yet for a man like Aaron she knew it was huge. This was startling—and scary. It was new territory for him—and he was admitting it.

‘That’s okay,’ she said, and squeezed his arm.

Aaron shook his head. ‘I can’t give you the things you want, Zoe.’

‘How do you know what I want?’

‘I could guess.’

‘So what are you saying you can’t give me?’ She tried to stay light, but her heart was pounding. Already this conversation was out of both of their depths.

‘I’m jumping ahead,’ he said with another impatient shake of his head. ‘This wasn’t how I wanted to go about it.’

Now she really felt lost at sea, flailing with incomprehension. ‘Go about what?’

Aaron took a deep breath and let it out in a shuddering, resolute sigh. ‘Asking you to marry me.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

T
HE WORDS SEEMED
to reverberate in the room between them, and vaguely Zoe realised this was the third time he’d shocked her with a suggestion—and this was the most shocking at all.

‘You’re joking,’ she said, feebly, for of course he wasn’t. Aaron didn’t joke, and in any case the look on his face said enough. He looked like a man resolutely facing execution, which was not exactly the appearance one hoped for during a marriage proposal.

‘You don’t have to answer now,’ he said steadily. ‘Obviously, you need to think about it. But I’ve been considering what the best option is going forward—for us and for this child.’

‘And you think it’s
marriage?’

His face hardened into implacable lines. ‘Yes.’

Zoe shook her head, everything in her a jumble of mismatched feelings. She could not begin to sort out how she felt. ‘But Aaron…’

‘Like I said, you don’t have to answer now. I probably shouldn’t have brought it up, but it’s been on my mind. Sleep on it.’

Protestations tumbled from her lips, her mind still whirling. ‘But we don’t even know if this pregnancy is truly viable yet.’

Aaron nodded, his gaze steady on her. He didn’t seem remotely
ruffled. ‘And we don’t have to get married tomorrow. We have time. Time to think.’

‘You seem to have made up your mind,’ Zoe observed numbly.

‘Yes, but I realise it might be different for you.’

‘Different?’ Curiosity flared within her. ‘How?’

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. ‘It’s different for women.’

‘That’s a stereotype if I’ve ever heard one.’

He raised his eyebrows, a faint, sardonic smile curling his mouth. ‘Are we really going to argue about this now?’

‘You brought it up,’ Zoe retorted, then closed her eyes and shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. I’m shocked. I feel like you jumped a mile ahead of me.’ To think a few moments ago she’d been nervous she was pushing too hard when all she’d said was she felt something for him. He’d responded with a marriage proposal.

But not with a declaration of love. Now she was clearly the one jumping ahead because obviously,
obviously
, Aaron was only talking about some kind of bizarre business arrangement.

‘I’m sorry for springing it on you at this unfortunate hour,’ he said tiredly. ‘We can talk about it in the morning, when we’re both a bit more rested.’

‘That sounds like a good idea,’ Zoe said shakily, and on leaden legs she headed for her bedroom. Aaron stopped her with a word.

‘Wait.’ She turned around, expectant, wary. ‘I thought you were sleeping with me.’ His eyes were dark, fathomless, intense. Zoe felt her heart beat hard.

‘But I thought—’ She stopped, for he simply held out his hand and after a second’s uncertain pause she took it.

Lying in bed with him, with his arms tucked securely around her middle, his chin resting on her shoulder, should have felt strange. New, at least. Yet as she fit her body against
him and felt his tension slowly start to ease Zoe knew it only felt right. Like coming home, which was ridiculous, yet she could not keep herself from feeling it. From wanting this and even more.

If she and Aaron married, every night could be like this. Unless, of course, he’d meant some kind of temporary marriage…until their child was a certain age? Or maybe just a cold-blooded business arrangement, which certainly seemed his style, to give their child the security of his name? Not a real marriage—a marriage that involved sharing and commitment and love, the kind of marriage she still wanted and had been searching for, even if she wasn’t quite sure she believed in it anymore.

She had no answers, yet the fact that she was even asking the questions made her realise she was seriously considering Aaron’s proposal. She hadn’t said no out of hand. she hadn’t even thought it…which was a terrifying thought in itself.

Some time near dawn She must have drifted into an uneasy doze, for when she awoke Aaron wasn’t in the bed and she could hear the shower running. She sat up, pushing tangles of hair from her eyes as she heard the shower turn off. Aaron came into the room with only a towel slung low on his hips.

‘Good morning.’ He gave her a rather brusque nod before reaching for his clothes. The towel dropped, and Zoe’s mouth dried as she took in Aaron’s naked body; his back was to her, so she could observe and admire the taut, muscular lines of his back and thighs. He was perfectly proportioned and unaccountably built.

‘Did you sleep well?’ he asked, no more than solicitous, and Zoe yanked her gaze away from her perusal of his butt.

‘Not really. Did you?’

He turned around, now clad in boxers, and gave her a surprisingly wry smile. She loved his smiles, rare as they were. They transformed his face, his whole self. They made
her realise there was more to this man than taciturn authority. ‘Actually, I did. Better than I have in ages. I suffer from insomnia.’

She smiled back. ‘Maybe you should try sleeping with someone more often.’

His gaze blazed briefly into hers before he turned away. ‘Maybe I will.’

Zoe slid out of the bed and went for her own shower. By the time she emerged Aaron was in the kitchen, dressed in a business suit and slicing strawberries for their breakfast.

Zoe hesitated in the doorway of her bedroom as she watched him, his movement so precise, a faint frown of concentration settled between his brows. He did everything so seriously, as if it was a hugely important matter, even cutting up some fruit. She realised then that he never would have asked her to marry him lightly.

He must have thought about every angle, every possibility. He’d had every answer. She walked forward with a smile on her face and Aaron turned.

‘Hungry?’

‘Yes. I’m always hungry in the mornings. And eating helps the nausea.’ She slid onto a stool by the breakfast bar and plucked a strawberry from the bowl. ‘You’re usually at work by now.’

‘I need to leave in a few minutes, but I thought we should talk.’

She nodded, eyeing the lines of strain from nose to mouth that never seemed to leave him. ‘You work too hard, you know.’

‘Not hard enough.’ He spoke matter-of-factly, and Zoe stared at him incredulously.

‘How can it not be hard enough? You’re a millionaire, Aaron. Or is it a billionaire?’ She shook her head. ‘What more do you want?’

His mouth thinned as he put the rest of the sliced fruit in the bowl. ‘It’s not important.’

‘Not important? If I’m going to marry you, don’t you think I should know the answers to these questions?’

He glanced up, his gaze hooded, blazing and swift. ‘So are you going to marry me?’

The breath bottled in her lungs and she held his gaze, shaking her head slowly. ‘I don’t know.’

‘But you’re thinking about it.’

‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘How can I not?’

‘You could have dismissed it out of hand.’

Zoe felt a blush heat her cheeks. Yes, she could have—should have, probably. What sane woman even thought about marrying a man she barely knew? Wasn’t always sure she liked? And when she was, unfortunately, quite positive that he didn’t love her?

And yet…
They shared something. She’d felt it last night, when she’d told him as much and seen the confusion in his eyes. She’d felt it when she’d lain in his arms and known there was absolutely no other place she would rather be. She felt it now…even as her brain was screaming at her to stop, not to leap into a relationship—a
marriage—that
would surely hurt her in the end.

Yet still she considered it.
Hoped
.

Typical Zoe, her sister would say, leaping ahead to a fairy-tale ending after the first date. Except this time Aaron had beaten her to it.

Except she didn’t think he was envisioning fairy tales.

‘I could have dismissed it,’ she answered, willing her blush to fade. ‘Perhaps I should. After all, this is the twenty-first century. Most people wouldn’t bat an eyelid at a child with unmarried parents.’

‘No,’ Aaron agreed tonelessly. ‘They probably wouldn’t.’

‘So why do you think it’s a good idea?’ Zoe dared to ask. ‘You have to admit, it’s a pretty big leap.’

‘Marriage is always a pretty big leap.’

He had a pat answer for everything, but he wasn’t really telling her much. Telling her the truth. ‘But most people who get married have dated. Known each other.’ She swallowed, forced herself to continue. ‘Love each other.’

Aaron’s expression didn’t change. The man was like a stone, Zoe thought. ‘Most people,’ he agreed.

‘What are you, Switzerland?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Stop being so damn neutral. This isn’t some negotiation.’

‘Yes,’ he answered. ‘It is.’

Zoe leaned forward. ‘Tell me the real reason, Aaron, why you want to marry me.’ She saw Aaron still and his face go even blanker, if that were possible. She knew she shouldn’t have said that. Shouldn’t have made it about her, because it so obviously, painfully, wasn’t. ‘I mean,’ she clarified quietly, ‘Why you think marriage is the right choice in our—situation.’ Now she was talking like him. Situations and solutions. So unemotional, so heartless.

Aaron didn’t answer for a long moment; he seemed to be considering his words carefully. ‘Because anything else is just making the best of things.’

‘Isn’t that what we’re doing? What we should be doing?’

He shook his head. ‘What’s the alternative, really, Zoe? Coming to some awkward custody arrangement, where I’ll get to see our child every other weekend, maybe a Wednesday evening?’

‘That sounds like an ideal situation for you,’ Zoe couldn’t keep from replying. ‘An ideal
solution
. You get to be a dad, but it doesn’t impinge on your lifestyle. Your work.’

He gazed at her, giving nothing away. ‘You think that’s what I want?’

‘It’s certainly what you have seemed to want,’ Zoe answered
evenly. ‘You’ve never acted like you’re thrilled about this, Aaron, or like you’re dying to change nappies.’

He didn’t reply, just turned to pour coffee into a thick ceramic mug. ‘You’re off coffee, aren’t you?’ he asked her, his back to her, and stupidly it touched her that he’d noticed.

‘I’ll have tea.’

He reached for tea bags, still not answering her accusations, for that was what it felt like—like she’d lobbed a few grenades right into the kitchen. And yet she knew it was true; Aaron had never acted like he was happy about this. About her. And she wanted him to be.

‘Just because I didn’t choose something doesn’t mean I won’t do what’s right,’ he finally said, handing her a mug of tea. ‘Trust me on that.’ There was something so grim about his tone that Zoe felt as if he must be speaking from experience, although she had no idea what it could be.

‘I don’t want you to marry me because you think it’s right,’ she said, stung by the implication. ‘I don’t want anyone to marry me for that reason. I want to marry—’

‘For love,’ he finished flatly. ‘I figured.’

She let out a short laugh. ‘Don’t sound so disgusted.’

‘I’m not disgusted. Resigned, perhaps.’

‘To what?’

‘To the fact that you would resist because of this. Because I don’t love you.’

Ouch
. She blinked, willing herself not to react. Not to feel the hurt that still rushed through her like water through a burst dam. Of
course
he didn’t love her. It would have been ridiculous and frankly unbelievable if he had said he had. Wasn’t she glad he could be honest, at least?

She stirred her tea, staring down into its fragrant depths. ‘And it doesn’t bother you? The whole love thing, or lack of it?’ she asked, her gaze still fixed firmly on her tea.

‘No.’

Of course he didn’t offer any more explanations. Getting personal information from this man was like getting blood from a stone. ‘Why not?’

A shrug, a sip of coffee. ‘It’s not something I’ve ever counted on.’

‘Love? But you must have some love in your life, Aaron. I mean, if not a woman, then your family. Your brothers.’ He stared at her without expression and, exasperated, Zoe continued, ‘All right—your mother, then.’

‘My mother lived her life in a state of intense depression and died when I was fifteen.’ He took a sip of coffee and glanced away. ‘Besides, Luke was her favourite.’

It was more personal information than he’d ever offered before, and she had a feeling he regretted revealing it. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly. ‘I didn’t know.’

‘Why should you?’

‘Is that why—why you’re not interested in a loving relationship now?’

‘This is not a discussion I’m interested in having,’ he answered flatly. ‘Next you’ll be getting out the crayons and asking me to draw a picture of my feelings. Don’t psychoanalyse me, Zoe, and don’t hope that somehow I’ll change. I suggested marriage, but I won’t pretend I love you, or that I’ll ever love you.’

‘Ever?’ she repeated, trying to make light of it rather than burst into tears, which was what at least part of her felt like doing. ‘What, are you incapable?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘You don’t even want to give it a chance?’

‘No.’

No hope, then. She swallowed, nausea roiling inside her that had nothing to do with morning sickness. ‘So what kind of marriage are you talking about, then?’

‘A partnership. Maybe even a friendship.’

‘Maybe?’

‘I don’t really do friendship. But I can try.’

‘You don’t
do friendship?’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t have friends. I never have.’

She blinked, shocked by his admission even though part of her wasn’t really surprised. ‘What a lonely life you’ve led, Aaron.’

‘You’re only lonely if you feel lonely.’

‘And have you felt lonely?’

He stared at her without blinking for a long moment. ‘I don’t know,’ he finally said, and she knew it was a confession, more of one than he’d wanted to make.

‘So what do you envision this marriage looking like? On, you know, a daily basis?’

He shrugged. ‘I have no idea. Something the way it looks now, I suppose.’

With him working sixteen-hour days and her wandering around the apartment when she wasn’t at work. Except, of course, it would be different, because she would have a child. And a life; she wouldn’t be in this awful limbo, waiting for something to happen.

BOOK: His Brand of Passion
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