Barefoot in the Sun (Barefoot Bay)

chapter Six



Zoe stayed under water long enough to ice down her burning skin and corral her crazy thoughts and…

Come on, be honest.

Long enough to give Oliver a chance to strip and swim.

For the love of everything that was hot or holy, Zoe was starved for this. Craving more kisses, more touching, more Oliver. She had to have him. Had to.

When her lungs nearly burst, she popped up to see him sitting on the side of the pool, pants rolled to the knee, feet in the water.

She had to laugh at her dumb fantasies and his blasted self-control. “That’s it? That’s as reckless as you get, doc?”

He leaned back on his hands, watching her. “This is what you do.”

Everything, every single thing, about that statement pissed her off, cooling her more than the water. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means you do this.” He gestured toward the pool.

“Swim?”

“As soon as things get messy, you do something impetuous and wild. You can’t be trusted.”

Damn him. She dunked herself, coming up to spit water in a perfect arc. “Since when is making out in a doorway messy?”

“Since you realized how much you wanted to make out in that doorway. Why jump in the water? Why not stand still and—”

“I can’t stand still. Don’t try and make me.” She punctuated the admission with another dive, sliding down to touch the bottom. She blew some air and kicked back to the surface.

“Why can’t you stand still, Zoe?”

She shrugged. “You know my history. Constant movement has been ingrained in me.”

“You call it constant movement. I call it trying to catch liquid mercury with your bare hands.”

“You’re not trying to catch anything or you’d be in here.” She slipped under the water, ready to count to thirty before she shot up again.

At fourteen, a splash rocked the whole pool, kicking her heart into high gear. He grabbed her from behind, the power of his arms so shocking that she sucked in water.

Instantly he pulled her up to the surface.

“It took you fourteen seconds to get your pants off,” she sputtered.

“I had to use twelve of them to think about it.”

She blinked water out of her eyes, vaguely aware that he still wore a pair of very wet boxer briefs. She snapped the elastic band. “Just think what you’d have done with two more seconds of thought.”

“You’re wearing something.”

“For the moment. What did you think about for twelve seconds?”

“This.” He pulled her into him and she automatically slid her legs around him while he got his footing in shoulder-deep water. “Oliver Bradbury, man in command of every situation, you got your underwear wet.”

His mouth kicked up in a half smile. “I live here now. I can toss them in the dryer or go commando.”

She took a deep breath, unable to keep from sighing it out as the image of him commando settled on her brain. “Would that be comfortable? You’re a pretty well endowed man, if memory serves me.”

“It serves you.” As if to prove it, he grew a little harder and bigger against her stomach. She couldn’t help it; she pushed against his erection, letting her bikini bottom swipe against its thickness, letting out an unintentional whimper of pleasure.

“You always loved riding me like that,” he said, caressing her bare back, dragging his hand to the rise of her backside, and slipping one finger in the very top of her bikini bottom.

“What’s not to love? It’s sexy as sin.”

He slid her up and down him again. “So are you.”

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back as though she were offering her throat, but the truth was she didn’t want to see the look on his face when she told him what she had to tell him.

He took the invitation and pressed his lips onto her skin, kicking up the pulse right under his mouth.

“I have to tell you something, Oliver.”

He lifted his head. “Let me guess. You can’t swim? That’s a problem because I generally look for that in a nanny.”

“Are we still interviewing?”

Once more, he dragged her up and down the ridge of his hard-on. “You’re hired. Anything else you need to tell me?”

“ I haven’t had sex in four years.” She squeezed her eyes shut so she didn’t have to see the look on his face. After a beat, she peeked through her lashes. No shock, no laughter, just the quirk of an eyebrow.

“That’s a long time.”

“I’m really good friends with my vibrator, though.”

He choked softly. “What a waste.”

“Nah, it’s top of the line and works like a charm.”

He rocked the full length of his erection against her, making her suck in a little breath. “A charm like that?”

“Not quite that charming.” His hair was smooth and slick as she slid her fingers into the locks, holding his head right in front of her so their mouths were as lined up as the rest of them.

He pressed again, their gazes locked. “Anything your vibrator can do, Zoe Tamarin, I can do better.”

“You always were competitive. Top of the class, chief resident and all that.” She rocked against him steadily now, heat searing her whole body. “But, I paid ninety dollars for him.”

“Him?”

“Billy.”

He choked softly. “He has a name?”

“Wild Bill Hickcock.” She grinned. “But he’s not that wild.”

Laughing, he closed in for a kiss, lifting her into him and capturing her next breath in his mouth. Hot and wet and thorough, he kissed like he did everything—perfectly. A perfect annihilation of her lips sweetened by hands that slipped and dipped into private places, and the utter thrill of holding on to his strong, broad shoulders and riding his mighty hard-on.

Of course, she wanted more.

Just remembering the feeling of Oliver entering her made Zoe moan with deep, achy need.

“Better than Bill?” he murmured into the kiss.

“Bill who?”

He worked his hand up to the knot in her halter top. “Can Bill take your top off?”

“Depends on how tight the knot is.”

“Not tight enough.” He slipped the material through the knot and she felt the pressure on her neck disappear.

He peeled down the halter top to reveal her breasts, inching back to admire the view. “Too bad he can’t see this.”

“Too bad,” she agreed, bowing her back enough to offer him access, blood pounding in her head, conveniently drowning out that stupid voice that might be saying things like Stop. Or Run. Or Wow, this probably isn’t completely made of smart.

Right now there was nothing but the sound of their mutually strangled breaths, the splash of water, and the occasional groan of pure pleasure from both of them.

He eased her higher in his arms so he could suck one nipple, at the same time adding pressure between her legs, pounding a steady, maddening beat.

He lifted his head and looked at her, his face wet, his eyes almost black, his jaw clenched as he ground into her again. “Bet your f*cking Bill can’t do that.”

“No.” Her throat caught as she fought for the next breath. “He doesn’t have that setting.”

He relaxed into a smile. “Then what the hell can he do?”

“He gets me off.”

He pulled her so close no water could get between them, and pushed his hard-on against her, igniting a fire between her legs.

“Come on, Zoe, get off…right here.” He picked up the speed, never taking his eyes from hers. His gaze held a challenge, the arrogant, arresting look of a man who had power and knew exactly how to use it.

She surrendered to the first twitch that squeezed into a spasm of pleasure, heavenly sensations radiating from her core, up her stomach, down her thighs, then deep, deep inside until she lost all control, and slammed helplessly against him, spiraling into her orgasm with shamefully little effort.

“Holy hell,” she murmured, collapsing against his shoulder, her heart hammering so hard she felt the pulse in her toes.

He kissed her ear. “And no pesky batteries.”

“I can’t believe we just did that.”

Drawing back, he gave her a strange look. “You started it.”

“You finished it.”

He thrust his hard-on against her. “Not yet.”

“I…feel so easy.”

“You haven’t had sex for four years. You’re not easy. You’re…”

She put her hand over his mouth. “Don’t say desperate.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Let’s call it undernourished.”

“I’ve had opportunities.”

He ran his hands over her waist and tucked them under her backside. “I have no doubt. Every man who sees you wants this.”

The words shot a hole in her heart. “Not every man.” She slid underwater and pulled her top back up, hastily tying the straps behind her neck before emerging. “You gave me up.”

“What? Sorry, but you went underwater and came up with changed history, Zoe.”

“You would have,” she insisted. “You’d have done the right thing. You’d have married Adele. And where would that have left me?”

His jaw opened, incredulous. “Wherever the hell you fled to, Zoe. I still don’t know where you went when you vanished into thin air.”

“Very thin,” she said softly. “The Colorado mountains were my solace that year.”

“Your solace?” His voice rose enough to know she’d hit a hot button. “I didn’t have any solace, just empty promises that you’d wait and you’d talk and you’d stay.”

She almost folded in half. “Did you try to find me?”

He let out a dry, wry laugh. “You might say that.”

“What did you do?” And why did it matter so much? She didn’t know, but it mattered. A lot.

He pushed a wet lock of hair off her face, his eyes on the strand, not her. “First? I talked to the landlord, and went to the post office, but your P.O. box had been closed with no forwarding address.”

Of course it was. That was always Pasha’s last errand on the way out of town.

“I left a letter in that box anyway.”

“You did?” A longing so physical it ached like someone was in her gut twisting all of her insides. “You wrote me a letter?”

He shrugged. “I gave the prick fifty bucks, but I saw him toss the letter in the trash when I left. I wanted to tell you…” His voice faded out.

“About the baby on the way?” She waited, seeing the agony in his eyes and hating herself for putting it there. “Is that what was in the letter?”

“What was in the letter is moot now.”

To him, maybe. “What else did you do?”

“Searched every place I knew you liked, every store, every bar, every park, every hot air balloon company in a two-hundred-mile radius.”

Oh. “I’d always wondered. Then I saw that you had married and I assumed you went back to her right away because of…who I am. What I am.”

He took her face in one hand, forcing her to look at him. “What you are is the woman I loved. I fully planned to support Adele and our child, but not marry her. I wanted to marry you.”

“You did?” The bitter taste of regret filled her mouth, forcing a little mew of misery. Why had she gone with Pasha that day? She’d had the chance to stay and start over, without Pasha and with Oliver. Pasha had offered her the choice, but Zoe knew that would be the end of them. She’d never see Pasha again. And the way he’d acted in the balloon, she was so sure she’d lost him and couldn’t imagine life without either of them.

So she did what she’d done most of her life because, deep inside, she didn’t believe in the kind of love Oliver had tempted her with. It was meant for other people, but not for Bridget Lessington.

He stepped back, dropping his hands in the water with a small splash. “I went to your house that night, but you were gone.”

The words hit like arrows to her heart.

Twelve hours. If she’d only stayed in Chicago for twelve more hours.

“Why didn’t you tell me what Adele’s message was?” she asked. Maybe that would have changed her decision…or maybe it would have made her run faster. There really was no way to know now.

“I couldn’t tell you until I talked to Adele,” he said. “I wasn’t even sure she was telling the truth.” He closed his eyes as if just remembering still hurt. “But she was and you were gone and, yes, I married her. And I stayed on a career course that was well guided by her father, and pretended that what you and I had was a crazy, brief fling instead of something real.”

Twelve hours.

“If I had stayed,” Zoe said softly, “how would you have gotten around the problem of my fake identity? Could you have gotten past the fact that I lived ‘on the run’ for all those years and might have to again?”

“I didn’t see it as the problem you did. I absolutely believed we could have negotiated with someone for help and gotten her cleared or pardoned. I still believe that. We could have fixed that.” He lifted a shoulder. “We still can.”

“She won’t even consider it. And now so much time has gone by it seems kind of…I don’t know.” She bounced a little on her toes; the conversation making her jumpy. “She’s too old to face that. By the time we have it sorted out, she could be…” Dead.

“Zoe.” He reached for her shoulders, holding her still. “Why don’t we fix both things at the same time?”

She stared at him. There were so many things to fix: their broken hearts, her dumb mistakes, Pasha’s legal problems, and, the biggest thing of all, cancer. “How?” she asked, overwhelmed by her mental list.

“While I start treatment, you consult a lawyer. Let’s attack the problems simultaneously.” He was never overwhelmed, though. Methodically, he’d power through and repair the hell out of everything.

No matter what the consequences. “She’d feel so betrayed.”

“Betrayed? If she’s healthy and free?” he countered. “Maybe she’d feel relieved.”

No. She’d be furious, hurt, and speechless at Zoe’s treachery. “We have an unspoken pact.”

“Maybe it’s unspoken because it was so wrong.”

“It wasn’t wrong. She helped me, she saved me. And she’s afraid.”

“Of what?”

She let out a dry laugh. “Prison?”

“She’s not going to prison.”

“You don’t know that. And we’ve always had this lifelong agreement.”

He shook his head a little, sliding his hand under her hair to hold her head. “Is that the only lifelong agreement you want, Zoe?”

The words stunned her, like shock therapy to her whole body. “What are you saying?”

For a long moment he didn’t answer, just traced her lower lip with his finger, sending white-hot sparks through her. “I’m saying I don’t want to be your replacement vibrator. I want a shot at something real with you, Zoe.”

A wholly different kind of electrical shock sparked in her. “You do?”

He held her gaze. “Don’t you?”

More than anything. But did she want it enough to hurt the one person who had stood by her through everything? The woman who’d saved her life and made sure she was educated and loved her wholly and fully—whether it was right or wrong?

“You’re thinking awfully hard about this” He moved away so suddenly she bobbed in the water. “Forget I asked.”

“As if that would be humanly possible.”

He walked toward the steps, water dripping off his body. The wet boxer briefs clung to his stunning male physique. “You’re asking me to pick you or Pasha.”

As he climbed out, he turned to her. “And you made that choice already, didn’t you?”

Yes, she had. And she hadn’t really been deeply happy since then.

“Get dressed, Zoe. We should get back so I can sign the paperwork and you can tell Evan the good news.”

“About moving in here?”

He picked up his pants from the patio. “About you being his sitter.”

They’d confirmed that? “And will you see Aunt Pasha as a patient?”

“Yes, of course.” He said it as though he’d planned to all along, which kind of pissed her off, but she was smart enough not to say a word. She’d gotten what she wanted.

And an orgasm.





Zoe was relieved to find Pasha asleep when she stopped by the bungalow after saying good-bye to Oliver. She wasn’t quite ready for the inevitable discussion, which, if Pasha wasn’t sick, could—and probably would—easily end with a pack-and-run.

But Pasha was sick, and this time everything was different.

And what Oliver was asking her to do? Turn Pasha in? The idea was still unthinkable to her. So she thought about other things.

I want a shot at something real with you, Zoe.

Yeah, she could think about that for hours. But Tessa texted that she and Jocelyn were still at Lacey’s house, drawing Zoe like a magnet to her three best friends. As always, she’d have to hold some truths back from them, but even still, she could count on their friendship to make her feel better.

Plus, she wanted to hold that baby again. God, she was as bad as Tessa with the babies now.

Did “something real” include a baby? A life together? A home? She didn’t know. The only thing she did know was that it would include a betrayal she wasn’t sure she could make.

She took the back route along the gardens and ended up on Lacey’s pool patio, where she found Jocelyn and Tessa nursing wine and Lacey nursing something a little bit cuter.

“And then there were five,” she teased as she pulled open the screen door to join them poolside.

“Excuse me, this is my second child,” Lacey said. “So that makes six.”

“Yeah, but Ashley doesn’t drink with us. Yet.” At the outdoor bar, Zoe grabbed a plastic stemmed glass and poured a liberal amount of Chardonnay. “Where is my goddaughter? Is she getting enough attention with the new baby?”

“I hope so. She went with Clay and Will to get us Mexican from the SOB,” Tessa said. “Where have you been all day?”

“Selling real estate.” She dropped onto an empty chaise and raised her glass to Lacey, who was curled up on her own chaise, her breast and babe covered by a pale blue blanket. “You’re welcome, Mrs. Walker. Casa Blanca has its first long-term tenant in Bay Laurel.”

Lacey smiled in gratitude. “We’re over the moon about this rental, Zoe. This is huge for us.”

“And how do you feel about it?” Tessa asked, sneaking a look at Jocelyn that practically screamed that they’d all been talking about her.

“Like I should get a commission.” Zoe took a deep sip. “And the courtesy of not being gossiped about by my closest friends.”

“We’re not gossiping,” Jocelyn assured her. “We’re discussing your relationship with the newest guest.”

“Who happens to be quite nice looking,” Lacey said, cringing as she adjusted the infant. “I remember this being easier with Ashley.”

“You were twenty-two,” Zoe said. “Everything’s easier then. Did you all lay bets on whether or not we kissed?”

“Five to one you kissed,” Tessa shot back.

“Ten to one your bathing suit came off,” Jocelyn added.

“I went all in for the whole enchilada.” Lacey grinned. “And I don’t mean the one I ordered from South of the Border.”

Zoe rolled her eyes but didn’t quench their pathetic curiosity.

“Zoe,” Tessa said, her voice weary with frustration. “You know we hate secrets.”

“You hate them, Tessa. The rest of us deal with them as part of life. Right?” She looked at the other two women, but Lacey peeked under the blanket and Jocelyn was suddenly interested in her wineglass. “Okay, let’s get this over with, then. Start the inquisition.”

Tessa dove right in, of course. “You know Dr. Oliver Bradbury.”

“Define know.”

“In the biblical sense,” Tessa added.

Zoe almost spewed her wine. “You didn’t really just say that.”

“C’mon, Zoe, talk to us,” Jocelyn said. “We know he’s the guy that freaked you out that day at the Ritz.”

Lacey leaned forward, her jaw opened. “The one who came in when you and I were buying me condoms.”

“That you clearly forgot to use.” Zoe pointed at the baby, then lifted her glass. “He was a stupid flash in my past, okay. I knew him years ago in Chicago for a couple of weeks. He’s not a secret as much as a mistake, which you’ve all made.” She took a sip, looking over the glass at three disbelieving faces.

“Oh, you haven’t?” she demanded. “Jocelyn, the Alabama game, that’s all I’m going to say.” She put her finger in her mouth and fake-puked. “Lacey, I believe his name was David Fox and you have a lovely sixteen year-old daughter to remember him by.”

Lacey shrugged. “Best mistake I ever made.”

“And Tessa…” She dug into her memory for some misdemeanor, but Tessa hadn’t committed a lot of them. “Surely you ate a burger and mainlined Splenda in a moment of unorganic weakness.”

“Never.” Tessa smiled. “Okay, once during finals. Stop trying to deflect with humor, Zoe. Spill the doctor dirt.”

“There’s nothing to spill.” At Tessa’s furious and unforgiving look, Zoe sighed. “It all happened a long time and a lot of men ago, okay? He doesn’t matter except he’s a paying guest of Casa Blanca and that’s a good thing. Right, Lace?”

She looked up from the blanket. “Jocelyn said he was with his wife at the grand opening. Did you know he’s married?”

“Not anymore, he’s not.”

“Was he married when you ‘knew’ him?” Lacey asked, the tiniest bit of accusation in her voice. Tiny, but as sharp as glass and straight to the heart.

“No.” Zoe closed her eyes and swallowed hard. “But thanks for the vote of confidence, my friend.”

Lacey looked suitably miserable for asking. “Sorry. Baby hormones.”

“We’re just trying to figure out what happened,” Tessa added.

“Why?” Zoe spun on her, all the forgiveness she was ready to shower on Lacey gone. “Why doesn’t ‘we dated, had mind-blowing sex, and broke up’ cut it for you, Tessa? Why do you have to know every soul-crushing, heartbreaking, dream-dying detail?”

Lacey pushed herself up slowly. “I’m taking Elijah inside.”

“Oh, Lace, I’m sorry,” Zoe said, putting her glass on the table to stand. “I didn’t mean to lose my temper in front of the baby. Or any of you.”

“Only me,” Tessa said softly.

“Yeah, you.” Zoe gave her a smile she had to fight to find. “We live to antagonize one another, remember?”

Still holding the baby in one arm, Lacey laid her free hand on Zoe’s cheek. “Honey, we don’t antagonize. We don’t argue. And we don’t want to pry. We want to help you.”

Zoe closed her eyes, a whirlwind of emotion fluttering through her chest. Love, longing, friendship, and, damn it, the burning need to hang out without worrying about revealing everything. But mostly she wanted to respect Lacey, her home, and her newborn.

She nodded and stayed quiet while Lacey went inside, then plopped down again, directing her attention to Jocelyn. “You had a secret,” she reminded her. “We didn’t pry it out of you.”

“I felt better after I shared,” she said.

“Closer to us and happy to be honest,” Tessa added, getting up from her chair to join Zoe on the chaise. “Don’t hate me for wanting to help you.”

Zoe fought the instinct to shake off Tessa’s arm. “What happened that makes you think I need help? I saw an ex. He has a sweet son and now he’s going to be a guest at the resort. What’s the big deal?”

“Your face,” Tessa said. “The way you look at him and the way he looks at you. And Pasha acted kind of weird, too.”

Lacey returned, babyless this time, buttoning her top while looking at Zoe. “He came to see you, you know. His son let it slip to Clay.”

“He came to see Elijah.” But she knew that wasn’t true.

“But you weren’t surprised to see him,” Tessa said.

Zoe speared her with a look. “You really should have been a lawyer.”

Tessa didn’t take the bait but rubbed Zoe’s arm with love and patience. “He’s more than just an ex, isn’t he? He was important in your life.”

How could she fight Tessa the Tsunami? “More than you know,” Zoe finally whispered. The ache to say more twisted inside her, the need to know the bliss of pure, open honesty as powerful as any of the needs she’d been battling for a few days.

But she had never been allowed that privilege in her life.

While they were all quiet, Zoe took a sip of wine, considering how much she could tell them. Certainly it wouldn’t hurt to share the news about Pasha being sick. That wouldn’t break any promises, would it?

“The fact is, I went to see him first, the morning after the baby was born.” She rubbed some condensation off the glass, not looking up. “He’s an oncologist.”

The word took a moment to sink in, then she got a chorus of two gasps and one “Oh my God.”

“Not me,” she said quickly. “No, I’m fine. It’s Pasha.”

“Oh, no.” Tessa’s chest sank like she’d been sucker-punched. “I’ve noticed how weak she seems. I thought it was old age.”

Zoe dragged her curls off her face, the sense of relief palpable in her chest. Was it always this good to share secrets? “She’s really sick. We got a quasi-diagnosis in Arizona and I talked to Oliver, who more or less thinks she might have esophageal cancer.”

“More or less?” Jocelyn asked. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. We’re going to find out. He’s going to see her,” she said. “If she’ll let him.”

“Why wouldn’t she?” Lacey and Tessa asked the question at the same time.

“Because…” She lifted the glass to her lips to buy time, but then realized that the wine would only make her more talkative, so she put it down. She was walking a very fine line with what she could reveal. “He broke my heart, as you’ve all probably figured out by now, so he’s on her shit list.”

And that was true enough.

“If he won’t work, we’ll find another oncologist,” Lacey said. “In fact, I can make some calls now. I know some people in town who’ve been through chemo.”

“No, no.” Shit, now it was going to get tricky. “She…doesn’t have insurance.” Again, not a lie.

Jocelyn waved her hand. “We’ll pool funds, Zoe. Did she have a doctor to refer her—”

“She doesn’t want to see a doctor.”

“If she has cancer?” Tessa was incredulous.

“Tessa, she will not see a doctor.” At least not one who will make her fill out paperwork and have a legit Social Security card. “She’s…terrified of them.”

“What if she got a sign that she had to see a doctor?” Tessa asked. “You know how she responds to messages from the universe and nature.”

“Like that pain in her chest and the doctor in Sedona using the C word isn’t enough of a sign?” Still, Zoe appreciated the idea.

“We have to come up with a solution,” Jocelyn said.

“This is not an insurmountable problem,” Lacey agreed.

“As long as you’re being completely open with us.” Tessa gave Zoe’s arm a slight poke. “And you are, aren’t you?”

For several heartbeats Zoe stayed silent, a dozen different smart-ass quips threatening but not actually coming forth. It would be so easy to joke. To straight-arm her friends, who only wanted to help. To make sure that wall she’d started building at ten years old stayed nice and high and impenetrable.

She smiled at Tessa, only because, damn, the woman had tried for years to take that wall down. Really tried. And Zoe just shot sarcasm arrows at her year after year.

Her heart wobbled a little when she realized that Tessa loved her so completely that she took those arrows every time.

“Tess,” she said softly, her voice cracking and her pulse ridiculously high. “If I told you that the truth could do more damage to Pasha than cancer, ending her life faster than any illness, would you let this one secret go?”

Tessa swallowed hard, obviously surprised by Zoe’s response. “Okay, Zoe, you win.”

When Tessa leaned over to hug, Zoe put her face in Tessa’s shoulder and bit back completely unexpected tears. She might share a little and show a touch of vulnerability, but, damn it, she wasn’t going to cry.

“Hola!” Ashley’s voice called out from the kitchen. “SOB delivery is here.” Carrying a large plastic bag, Lacey’s daughter came out onto the patio, her fresh face and huge smile a balm to Zoe’s heart. “Aunt Zoe! We thought you’d be out on a date with the hot doc.”

Zoe shook her head, laughing. “Et tu, Brutus?”

Ashley squished her pretty face. “Does not compute.”

Tessa pushed up from her chair to snag the bag. “It means we’ve been too rough on Aunt Zoe. And you better have remembered the whole-wheat tortilla and not let the beef touch anything I eat.”

Zoe and Ashley shared an eye-roll, but Zoe appreciated Tessa’s defense.

Will and Clay joined them on the patio, each of them drawn to the women they loved, pairing up naturally while they greeted Zoe. Tessa disappeared with Ashley into the kitchen.

Clay nudged onto the chaise with Lacey, whispering something about the baby, then smiling at her as they shared secret communication. And Will pulled Jocelyn from her chair, sat in it, and tugged her back onto his lap, giving her a not-so-secret kiss.

For one suspended second, Zoe felt utterly alone.

I want a shot at something real with you.

During that one moment of loneliness, the price she’d have to pay to have that shot—which might cost her Pasha—almost seemed reasonable. Almost.

If only there could be another way.