A Not-So-Innocent Seduction

Thirteen


Zoe felt like a punctured balloon. Again, like the hospital experience weeks ago, she experienced the notion that life was using her for a punching bag. This day had begun with such effervescence and simple joy that it was particularly painful to be dragged to a place she’d tried so hard to escape.

She understood Liam’s questions. He was trying to understand her. The trouble was, she barely understood herself. But she cared about Liam, and for the first time in a long time, she wanted to let someone in.


Rising to her feet with one fluid motion, she brushed crumbs off her hands. “I’m going to wander into those trees over there for a private moment.”

“Watch out for snakes.”

Her nose wrinkled. His admonition wasn’t a joke. That’s all she needed. A snakebite on her lady parts.

After relieving herself and straightening her clothing, she wandered through the little grove of hardwood trees, enjoying the beauty of the somnolent afternoon. Perhaps she could stay here forever, hiding out from her father like a paranoid survivalist. The Unabomber had managed it for a long time. But Montana and North Carolina weren’t exactly the same.

Despite having no concrete proof, she was very afraid that she was still being followed. Even though Pierre had done his best to hide her existence in the hotel, and even though she had told herself the danger was past, in her gut she knew it would never be over. Not until she put a stop to it once and for all. It would only be a matter of time before the mysterious man understood that he had been duped. He would come back, because the man paying him would never give up.

When would her father learn that she would not accept being under his domination the way her mother was? If Zoe could have rescued her mother, she would have. But she knew in her heart that her mom would never leave.

As she walked back over to the cabin, her heart began to splinter into a million little pieces. Liam waited for her. He stood with one hand braced on a support timber, his stance casual, but his gaze watchful.

She had to leave Silver Glen. It had been stupid and naive to think she could actually stay six weeks. She knew better than to let anyone get close to her, but Liam had slipped beneath her defenses. There was no future for them. But dear God, she loved being here in North Carolina with him. She loved the town and the hotel and sense of community and singing at the Silver Dollar, but most of all, she knew she could love Liam. If she allowed herself. But she wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

The only way she had been able to survive her nomadic lifestyle was to enjoy the people she met along the way, but never to fall into the trap of thinking they were family. She had a mother she loved very much, but her father had separated them. Imagining a dream in which Liam’s family became her family was pathetic.

He liked her. And he desired her. That much was clear. But Zoe lived on the road and Liam was rooted in Silver Glen. Permanently.

She didn’t climb the stone steps to the porch. Instead, she shaded her eyes and stared up at him. Her sunglasses were in the car. “Do you mind if we go back now?” she asked.

* * *

Liam was torn. And deeply concerned about his own judgment. Was he allowing his sexual attraction to Zoe to blind him to the truth? In the minutes when she had left him briefly, he had pondered the existence of the money. Hidden in a panel of her van. An enormous amount of money. Enough for a man to hire an investigator to retrieve it. Did she plan to use it to pay her credit card bill?

Forcing himself to take a mental step backward, he asked a silent, hard-edged question. Could Zoe possibly be a manipulative con? Had she spun Liam this story in order to cover her tracks so that when her father caught up with her, Liam would take her side?

His mind shut down, refusing to deal with such an ugly supposition. The notion was repugnant in every way. Despite the growing mountain of evidence that said Zoe had secrets galore, and despite the experience in his youth that told him women could be devious, he trusted Zoe. Was he making the same mistake twice?

She stood, waiting for his answer. “Sure,” he said. “But if you’re up for it, we could climb to the top of this hill. There’s a beautiful lake on the other side.”

He watched her visibly hesitate and wished he could appease whatever demons she was battling. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt.”

Liam jumped off the porch and touched her arm. “I have an idea.” He indicated for her to follow him, and they began walking around the cabin and up the grassy hillside behind. He matched his pace to hers and then gave voice to what was becoming an irresistible notion. “I have to go to New York tomorrow,” he said. “I’m speaking to a consortium of high-end hotel owners about hospitality in the twenty-first century. I’d like you to go with me.”

Zoe trudged beside him, head down. “Why?”

He sighed. “Nothing is ever easy with you, is it? Can’t it be enough that I want to spend time with you?”

“How long would we be gone?”

“Three days.”

“And what about my room at the hotel?”

“Which hotel?”

She stopped and struggled to catch her breath. The hill wasn’t all that high, but it was steep. “I meant the Silver Beeches, but I suppose the question stands for both.”

“We’ll simply put your room at my hotel on hold. And in New York, it’s up to you. One room or two.”

“I don’t want to fall in love with you, Liam.”

The shock of her words knocked him back half a step. He ran a hand across the back of his neck. “I don’t know how to answer that. And besides, I don’t think you’re in much danger. According to someone I know, I’m bossy and uptight and judgmental and I have a king complex.”

“Don’t forget arrogant.”

He held out his hands. “See? You have nothing to worry about.”

They continued walking, but his mind was not on the magnificent scenery. Had Zoe been expecting some sort of reciprocal response on his part after she made her veiled statement about having feelings for him? Had he hurt her by remaining silent? And did he want her to love him? Did he want to love her?

The questions threatened to drive him mad. That and the memory of thousands of dollars hidden away in her van. As a teenager he had watched his father be seduced by a woman with secrets. Liam had been infatuated with her as well. When her true colors were revealed, his entire family had been crushed, and his father was dead.

Liam was no longer an impressionable youth. But love could make a man blind.

At the crest, they stopped, joined in mutual accord by their admiration of the view. A small lake in the distance glittered, its surface silvered by the sun. “Have you ever sailed?” he asked her, searching for topics that weren’t booby-trapped.

“Some. While I was in France. I made friends with sisters whose father was Comte something or another. They would take me home with them on the weekends and we would do all sorts of crazy things.”

“Do you still hear from them?”

“No. We lost touch.” She left it at that, so he didn’t push.

A rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. The fluffy white “sheep” clouds that dotted the sky earlier in the day had morphed into angry, gray, roiling masses. “Better head back,” he said. “We don’t want to be trapped up here when it hits.”

Their luck ran out halfway back to the cabin. The sky let loose with a deluge as if someone had opened a huge zipper overhead. In seconds, they were both drenched. Lightning danced around them and thunder roared. Liam cursed himself for not paying closer attention to the change in weather. Running now, they hurtled down the last incline.

A few hundred feet from the cabin, Zoe’s heel skidded on wet grass, and she went down hard, tumbling twice before he could get to her. In other circumstances, her appearance might have been amusing, covered as she was in mud and grass, but he was too worried to pay much attention.

He scooped her into his arms, and with a stride that was long but steady, carried her the last few yards to the cabin. The only entrance was through the front door. He kicked it open. Musty air met them, the inside of the place cheerless and dark. Tiny rodents ran for the cover of darkness.

Zoe clung to his neck. “I’m not touching anything.”

“Only for a second.” He eased her down onto one foot while he reached for a straight-backed chair that appeared to be fairly clean. Sitting down, he settled her in his lap. “How badly are you hurt?”

“Mostly just my pride. Though my ankle may be sprained and I think my hand is bleeding where I landed. Can’t we go back to the hotel? I could sit on a jacket or towel or something so I don’t mess up your car.”

A thunderous boom made them both jump in sync. “Screw the car,” he said forcefully. “We need to get you to a doctor. But it’s too dangerous to move until this passes.”

Her skin was covered in gooseflesh. If they took off her wet clothes, he had nothing to cover her with. Some Boy Scout he had turned out to be.

Zoe burrowed into his embrace, her teeth chattering audibly. “I don’t need a doctor, but I’d kill for a hot shower.”

“May I join you?” The words tumbled out. He hadn’t meant to say them. But suddenly, despite the wretched conditions, he felt the return of the sexual bond that had taken them both by surprise.

She stroked his collarbone through his shirt. “Why not?” she drawled after a moment. “It’s only a fantasy at this point.”

“Since you checked into the hotel, I’ve had lots of fantasies,” he confessed. “I believe you must be an Irish fairy in disguise come to grant me three wishes.”

He felt her laugh, the sound almost a caress against his chest. “I think one wish is enough. Don’t be greedy.”


“So will you go with me to New York?”

“I won’t be in the way?”

“No.”

“Have you ever taken a date to something like this?”

“No.”

“Why now? Why me?”

The storm was moving away, the sound of the thunder fading to a muted boom. “I hear the ticking clock,” he said, being as honest as he knew how to be. “You won’t be in Silver Glen for long. I want a chance to get to know you better.”

She sat crossways on his lap, her legs dangling. When his hand brushed her bare thigh, her skin was cold and damp. “I do love New York,” she sighed. “I suppose I’ll go.”

“You don’t have to sound so happy about it.”

“I’m wet and cold. What do you expect?”

“Now who’s the grumpy one?” he asked, grinning though she couldn’t see his face.

She pinched his arm. Hard. “You should be nicer to the woman you bumped and made fall down the hill.”

“Hey,” he said, indignant. “I had nothing to do with it. I can’t help it if those new boots tripped you up.”

“I’ll get more sympathy with the other story.”

“Try it and I’ll spank you.”

“Oooh,” she said. “Macho threats. Don’t expect me to believe you’ve read Fifty Shades of Grey.”

“God, no. I’m more of a John Grisham fan.” But should he admit that the idea of turning Zoe’s bottom pink turned him on? “We can go now,” he said gruffly, desperate to get out of the small, semidark cabin. The only thing keeping his hunger in check at the moment was the lack of a clean flat surface. That and the fact that Zoe might need medical attention.

It wasn’t easy for a man to hold a scantily dressed woman in his arms and not think about sex. Particularly if that woman was Zoe Chamberlain. He stood abruptly, lifting her into his arms. “Hang on.”

Fortunately for his peace of mind, she was quiet and docile during the trip to the car. The ground was littered with storm debris. Hard-packed dirt had turned rapidly into a mud pit.

After he deposited her in the passenger seat, he ran around to his side, wincing when he realized he had no choice but to put his dirty boots on the mat. If he’d been smart, he’d have brought his Jeep. But he had wanted to pamper Zoe.

He turned on the engine, the heat and the defroster. Zoe had already flipped on her seat warmer. Reaching behind them, he snagged an old sweatshirt. “Here. Put this over your legs. And let me see your hand.”

She did as he asked but not without her usual sass. “Bossy, bossy, bossy.”

With her small palm turned upward, he examined the series of gouges caused by rocks and whatever else she’d landed on. “I don’t think it’s going to need stitches, but it’s probably going to hurt like hell for a few days. We’re lucky you didn’t break your arm.”

“I’m well aware of that, trust me.”

Now that he could see better, he noticed she also had a scrape on the side of her cheek. And there would no doubt be bruises to follow. He glanced down at her leg. “Do you want to try and get that boot off so I can examine your ankle?” How she would do that in the confines of the car, he wasn’t sure.

“No, thank you. Let’s just get back.”

It was a silent drive, each of them lost in thought. A couple of times they ran through rain again. “That ankle needs to be examined.” He tried to persuade Zoe to see a doctor, but she flatly refused.

“I’m tired and I want to go to my room. If it’s still hurting in the morning, I’ll get an X-ray.”

“You promise?”

“I do.”

When they pulled up at the hotel, Liam handed off the keys to the valet. Zoe insisted on walking up the shallow steps on her own, though she did lean on his arm for support. He escorted her all the way upstairs to the door of her room and halted. “Will you have dinner with me this evening? After you’ve cleaned up?” He wanted to mention the offer of a shared shower, but he could tell she was drooping.

“I think I’ll get room service after a hot soak in the tub. But thank you.”

Well, hell. “I understand. Tonight I’ll buy a second ticket for New York. The flight is midafternoon. We’ll have to leave here at noon in order to drive to the airport in Asheville.”

“I’ll be ready.”

Her body language was screaming at him to back off, but her odd mood disturbed him. What if she chose to bolt? To run away? He brushed the back of his hand down her cheek. “May I come in for a moment?”

Zoe nodded slowly as she inserted her key card. “If you want.”

He followed her and shut the door behind him. “I’m sorry our day didn’t turn out as planned.”

“Life is usually like that,” she said.

He looked for irony in her expression, but found none. Zoe had a slant on the world that not many people attained. He wouldn’t call it fatalism. That was too negative. What she had was the ability to enjoy the twists and turns, both good and bad, with equanimity. As if everything that happened to her had purpose and value.

Pulling her close, he nuzzled the side of her neck. “I won’t keep you. I know you need to get out of those wet clothes.”

“I’m fine,” she said, but the words were unconvincing.

He kissed her gently, trying to convey feelings that were unformed but strong. She felt good in his arms, as if she had been created to exact specifications that matched needs in his own life he hadn’t even known existed.

Holding her like this had a predictable effect on his anatomy. But he wasn’t going to push it. Zoe was wet and cold and tired. He forced himself to release her and back step back. “A good day?” He made the words a question.

She nodded. “Of course. I had fun. Despite the weather.”

“And the rowdy hikers?”

Her cheeks reddened. In her eyes he saw the memory of almost making love up against a tree. “Their timing could have been better,” she agreed, the words wry. Then she shifted gears. “I don’t have clothes for New York.”

Damn. He should have thought of that. The woman spent part of her nights living in a van, and she had checked into the Silver Beeches with a single suitcase. “Well,” he said slowly. “I invited you. So the wardrobe will be my treat. There are several designer boutiques a block from the hotel. We’ll go there as soon as we land.”

“You won’t be buying me clothes. That’s ridiculous. I have money. But yes, if I could shop first, that would be helpful.”

“Do you?” he said, not pausing to censor the words.

“Do I what?”

“Do you have the money to pay for new clothes?”

He saw her go still, like a wild animal trapped in the headlights of an oncoming car. “I’m staying here, aren’t I?”

It wasn’t really an answer to his question. “Talk to me, Zoe. If you’re strapped for cash, don’t rack up a credit card bill for new clothes. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

He was baiting her deliberately. The knowledge made him feel sick, but he was desperate to know the truth. She had given him bits and pieces of her story, but there was more. Something she was withholding. And it involved the cash in the van.

She stared at him, nonplussed. “My finances are in good shape,” she said evenly. “But thank you for your concern.” The flat words struck him with a force he deserved. Why couldn’t he trust her unequivocally?

He was no closer to unraveling the mystery that was Zoe, and yet he had pissed her off. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you. I only wanted to help.”

“You could help by trusting me to manage my own life.” The retort was sharp, but he saw humor in her eyes.

“I get the message. Am I forgiven?”

She leaned in and kissed him softly on the cheek. “Of course. Now go before I get hypothermia. I’ll talk to you later.”