One Night: Exotic Fantasies. Maisey YatesЧитать онлайн книгу.
usually wear things that are this tight, so you … your reaction made me think it looked. You’ve met my mother, right?” She changed tactics.
“Yes.”
“She’s like a model. And my sister … well, she takes after my mom. I take after my dad.”
“Something wrong with that?”
“Well, I’m just not … not everything Lucy is. And my mother let me know that. Let me know that I was second best in nearly every way. She didn’t just get beauty, she had a perfect gradepoint average without even trying. I was just average. I liked school, but I didn’t excel at it. The only thing I’ve ever excelled at is baking, which in my mother’s estimation contributes to my weight issues.”
Zack swore and Clara jumped. “Weight issues? You don’t have weight issues.”
“I did. More than I do now, I mean. It was a whole … thing in high school. Remember, I mentioned the time my date stood me up?”
He nodded and she continued on, hating to dredge up the memory. “Asking me was a joke in the first place, not that I had any idea, of course. And I was supposed to meet him by the stage in the gym, which is where the dance was, and he walked up with his real date, and the guys doing the lights knew to put a spotlight on me right then. And I was all chubby and wrapped up in this silly, tight pink dress that was just so … shiny. That stays with you. Sometimes, for no reason, I still feel like the girl under the spotlight, with everyone looking at all my flaws.”
He swore sharply. “That’s bull. That’s … kids are stupid and that’s high school.” He swallowed. “It’s not real life. None of us stay the same as we were back then.” His words ended sounding rough, hard.
“Maybe not. Still, even though I’ve sort of … slimmed out as I’ve grown up, as far as my mom is concerned, since I’m not six feet tall and runway ready, I’m not perfect. I have her genes, too, after all,” she said, echoing a sentiment she’d heard so many times. “And that means I could be much thinner if I tried.”
“Let me tell you something about women’s bodies, Clara, and I know you are a woman, but I’m still going to claim the greater expertise. Men like women’s bodies, and there isn’t only one kind to like, that’s part of the fun. Beauty isn’t just one thing.”
She tried to ignore the warm, glowy feeling that was spreading through her. “I know that. I mean, part of me knows that. But it’s hard to let go of the second-best thing.”
“Better than feeling like you’re above everyone else,” he said slowly. “Like nothing can touch you because you’re just so damn perfect life wouldn’t dare.”
“I don’t know if Lucy feels that way, my mother might but.” She trailed off when she noticed the look on his face. There was something, just for a moment, etched there that was so cold, so utterly filled with despair that it reached inside her and twisted her heart.
“Zack …”
He shook his head. “Nothing, Clara. Just leave it.” The dancers had cleared the area out on the lawn and there were couples moving out into the lit circles, holding each other close, looking at each other with a kind of longing that made Clara ache with jealousy. “Care to dance before dinner is served?”
Yes and no. She felt a bit too fragile to be so close to him, and yet a part of her wanted it more than she wanted air. Just like in the water today, she’d wanted to run and cling at the same time. She was never sure which desire would win out.
He offered his hand and she took it, his fingers curling around hers, warm and masculine. He helped her up from her seat and drew her to him, his expression still strange, foreign more than familiar. He looked leaner, more dangerous. Which was strange, because even though Zack was her friend, she always felt an edge of danger around him, a little bit of unrest. Probably because she was so attracted to him that just looking at him made her shiver with longing.
“Just a warning,” he said, as they made their way out onto the grass. “People will probably stare. But that’s because you look good, amazing even. And you certainly aren’t second to any woman here.”
“Flatterer.”
“No, I’m not, and I think we both know that.”
“Okay, I suppose that’s true,” she said, kicking her shoes off and enjoying the feeling of the grass under her feet. Although, losing the little lift her shoes provided put her eyes level with Zack’s chest.
He pulled her to him, his hand on her waist. She fought the urge to melt into him, to rest her head on his chest. This wasn’t that kind of dance; theirs wasn’t that kind of relationship. That didn’t mean she didn’t want to pretend. It was easy, with the heat of his body so close to hers, to imagine that tonight might end differently. To imagine that he saw her as a woman.
Not just in the way that he’d referenced, that vague, sweet, but generic talk about women and their figures. But that he would desire her body specifically. She kept her eyes open, fixed on his throat. She knew him so well, that even looking there she knew just who she was with. And she didn’t want to shut that reality out by closing her eyes. She wanted to watch, relish.
For a moment reality seemed suspended. There wasn’t time, there wasn’t a fiancée, one more suited to Zack than she was, looming in the background. There was only her and Zack, the heat of the night air, the strains from the stringed instruments weaving around them, creating a sensual, exotic rhythm that she wanted to embrace completely.
She loved him so much.
That hit her hard in the chest. The final, concrete acknowledgment of what she’d probably always known. A moment that was completely lacking in denial for once. She loved Zack. With her entire heart, with everything in her. And she was in his arms now.
But not in the way she wanted to be. She breathed in deeply, smelling flowers, rain and Zack. Her lungs burned, her stomach aching. She wished it was real. So much that it hurt, down to her bones.
Maybe, just for a moment, she could pretend that it was real. That this was romance. That he held her because he wanted her. Because after this, after the fake engagement, after the ink was dry on the contracts, there would be no more chances to pretend.
She would go her way, and she would leave Zack behind. Why couldn’t she ignore it now? Just for now.
She didn’t want the song to end, wished the notes would linger in the air forever, an excuse to stay in his arms. But it ended. And that was why she shouldn’t have said yes to the dance in the first place. Playing games wouldn’t come close to giving her what she wanted with Zack. It just made her aware of how far she was from having what she really wanted.
He took her hand and pulled her away from the other dancing couples, and for one heart-stopping moment, she thought he might lean in and kiss her. His lips were close to hers, his breath hot, fanning across her cheek. Her body felt too tight, her skin too hot. She needed something. Needed him.
“I have something for you,” he said. “For tomorrow.”
“I like presents,” she said, trying to keep her voice from sounding too shaky. Too needy. Too honest. “It’s not a food processor, is it?”
He chuckled, a low, sexy sound that reverberated through her. “I told you, I’m keeping my food processor.”
She tried to breathe. “All right then, I can’t guess.”
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. Everything slowed down for a moment, but unlike before, when the gauzy, frothy film of fantasy had covered it all, this was stark reality. She shook her head even before he opened it, but he didn’t seem to notice.
He popped the top on it and revealed a huge ring, glittering gold and diamonds. She sucked in a sharp breath. Such a perfect ring. Gorgeous. Extravagant. Familiar. The ring he’d given to Hannah. The exact same ring. The ring for the woman who was supposed to be