All or Nothing (25 page)

“Thanks. My mother has issues with flying champagne corks. She says it's vulgar.”

“As well as dangerous.”

“Someone could get a black eye,” Zach said.

“And you've already had one this month.”

“It wouldn't be me: it would be you. And I don't think it would be a good look for you.”

“Plus Murray would blame you.”

Zach pretended to shudder. “Don't even talk about it.”

Jen almost smiled.

He poured into the two champagne flutes and handed one to Jen. They were funky glasses, with red twisted stems, hand blown by a local artist. Zach didn't own much, but what he owned, he really liked.

Jen looked at the glass in her hand with something that might have been appreciation, then looked up at Zach. “So, we're drinking to your death by unnatural causes?” she said and he was sure it was a joke.

Pretty sure, anyway.

“I thought we were celebrating our pending marriage.”

“Oh, so we're drinking to your talent for meddling in my life.”

“I knew you'd be angry that I talked to your mother, but it's okay, Jen. This is going to work like a charm.” Zach moved into his full-press persuasive mode. “Is Tuesday good for you for the trip to New York? I'm guessing you don't work a lot of shifts at the beginning of the week.”

Jen had been in the act of sipping champagne, but stopped without imbibing any. “I'm not going to New York.”

“Sure you are. We've got to go to Tiffany and add to the photo montage. It'll be great for credibility...”

Jen blinked. “The photo montage?”

“Yeah. Of course. I showed the pictures from Thanksgiving to your mom already. She really liked a couple I took of you.”

“You showed your pictures to my mom?”

“Jen, you've got to stop repeating everything I say to you. They're just little words and not that hard to understand.” She swatted him in the shoulder and he laughed, relieved when she smiled.

Even if she had smiled after inflicting a blow on him.

“Of course, I showed her the pictures,” Zach continued, intending to bowl her over with details. “I mean, it was part of the whole set-up. She loved the Book of Jen. Now, we'll go to New York and I'll blow another roll or two. Maybe we'll go the Empire State Building, or take one of those carriage rides around Central Park.”

“In November?”

“We're just two people crazy in love.” He winked at her and she sipped her champagne, avoiding his gaze. “Maybe you could wear something that matches the little blue boxes. We could do a mock-50's thing...”

The base of Jen's glass hit the counter firmly. “I'm not going to New York, and you're not buying an engagement ring, because we're not getting married.”

Zach waved off this protest. “I know we're not getting married and you know it, but nobody else needs to know. Yet.”

“I dumped you...”

“That's why I went to see your mom. Breaking up was a brilliant touch, really, as I think they were a bit skeptical about how quickly things were moving. This gives the whole scheme a greater plausibility, some emotional nuance...”

“We are not doing this!”

“Of course we are. It's too good of a scheme to
not
do it...”

Zach had a heartbeat of warning as Jen's eyes flashed, then she stepped closer to tell him off. “How can you even think about doing this? What about people's feelings? What about their expectations? What about consequences?”

“There aren't going to be any consequences. People cancel weddings all the time...”

“No, no. My mother likes you. My mother thinks that you're perfect for me, although it's a challenge to figure out that one.”

“She does?”

“Don't preen. You tricked her.”

“Hey, that's a bit harsh...”

Jen didn't slow down, though. She was spitting sparks again. “You manipulated her and you got her hopes up and you don't care one bit that this will disappoint her in the end.”

“Well...” Zach didn't have much of an answer for that, but it didn't matter. Jen was on a roll.

“What about my grandmother? She likes you, too, and she'll be mortified if a big wedding comes undone at the altar. What will her friends think? What will
your
mother's friends think? What will they say?”

“I don't really care what a bunch of gossips have to say about me...”

“Then what about your own mother? Won't she be embarrassed and disappointed? Won't she be sad that you tricked her?”

Zach suspected that his own mother would never think any woman was good enough for him—because she'd said as much in the past, after each of his relationships had ended—but he didn't think it a good time to express that idea. “No one will ever know...”

Jen shook a finger at him. “One thing I've learned watching Cin is that these schemes always come out. People always have a suspicion if they've been tricked and it erodes their trust in the people who tricked them. It would, in fact, be handy if this one came unraveled right now.”

“But you started it.”

“I was stupid.” Jen picked up the glass of champagne and knocked back the rest of its contents in one gulp. “I listened to my sister and I should have known better. The truth is that I have nothing to fear from any guy my mother fixes me up with. I should have faced that in the first place.” She spun on her heel, patted Roxie on the head and made for the door.

“Why not?”

She paused, one hand on the knob. Her attitude was triumphant. “Because if I'm not attracted to them, they can't hurt me. And I won't worry about hurting them. Simple.”

It was simple all right.

And it was fascinating.

Zach sauntered after her and spoke just before she opened the door to leave. “Why does that sound like you have something to fear from me? Like maybe you're attracted to me? Like maybe you're running because I could hurt you?”

Jen's expression turned skeptical. “Be serious.”

“I am serious. I like you. I think you're funny and smart. I like how you smile, although you don't do it often enough.”

“Flattery isn't going to get you anywhere.”

“It's not flattery; it's the truth. I have fun talking to you and that's not very common.” He put down his champagne and pursued her. He noticed how her cheeks turned pink and didn't think it was the alcohol.

“Don't kiss me,” Jen warned, her tone lethal.

“Why not? If you've got nothing to fear from me, then it's no big deal to kiss. It would be like, oh I don't know, like kissing your brother.” He watched her battle over that, watched her eyes glitter as she considered the consequences of either option.

“I don't feel anything when I kiss you,” she said with such conviction that he didn't believe her. “It
is
like kissing my brother. It's just for show.”

Zach felt compelled to point out the problem with that argument. “Except that most of the times we kissed, no one was watching.”

Jen started at him and the room seemed to be steaming up. Her eyes were wider than usual, and darker too. He liked that he could almost see her thinking.

And yet, he didn't really know what to expect.

The woman was a mystery wrapped in an enigma.

And he liked that, liked it a lot.

In the end, Jen surprised him completely. She closed the distance between them with a decisive step and reached up to frame his face in her hands. Her fingers were still cold but Zach barely jumped. “I'll prove it to you, brother Zach,” she promised, then touched her lips to his.

Her mouth was cold too, but firm and sweet. Her kiss went straight to his head—and to another part of him—a lot more quickly than champagne. Zach felt as if everything in him was suddenly pulled taut.

If this was how Jen planned to kill him, Zach wasn't going to fight her off.

* * *

Zach tasted too good.

Or he was too experienced of a kisser.

One or the other had to be why Jen couldn't stop kissing Zach. She certainly wasn't attracted to him, and she certainly wasn't enjoying this. She was proving a point.

That's all.

And really, it would take a little bit longer to ensure that her point was made. His hands were around her waist, holding her against him but not trapping her there. She was pressed against his chest and felt the evidence that he worked out. She had her hands on his shoulders and then around his neck and then wove her fingers into the thick waves of his hair. She liked the bit of stubble on his chin, the way his tongue teased hers, the way he used his teeth, just a little, to drive her crazy.

Roxie leaned against them and made a little whimper in a bid for attention, but Zach ignored the dog. If anything, he lifted Jen closer and deepened his kiss.

She liked that he gave their kiss—the kiss she had initiated—his undivided attention. She liked that she could feel his hardness against her belly, yet he didn't force or push her. The way he held her made her feel that she was in charge, that she could bring it all to an end or drag him off to be her love slave for the afternoon. She felt strong and sexy as she hadn't in a long time.

The choice was hers.

And it was too tempting.

He would only hurt her, she reminded herself, because she couldn't just savor the moment and walk away. It wasn't in her. She would make an emotional commitment, just as she had the last time with Steve, and it wouldn't be reciprocated. Zach was ready to have fun, and nothing more than that.

Jen couldn't do it.

The fact that he expected her to do so made her angry.

She planted one hand in his chest and pushed, backing way and breaking their kiss. “That's it,” she said, her voice husky in an unfamiliar way. “That's enough to prove my point.”

Zach grinned, unconvinced. “And what would that point be?”

“That kissing you is like kissing my brother.”

“Then your family really is odd.” He tapped a fingertip on the end of her nose. “Give it up, Jen. You've lost this one. That is not how anybody kisses a sibling.”

“What do you mean? I didn't feel anything special.” Jen tried to lie and failed spectacularly, as usual.

Zach laughed. “Then you're dead and you don't look it. That was a killer kiss, one for the Hall of Fame, in my opinion, and nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I'm not ashamed of it...”

“Then why are you trying to lie about your response?” He folded his arms across his chest, his eyes sparkling. His gaze swept over her and he smiled, proof positive that he had noted all the damning evidence.

Jen straightened. “I came here to kill you.”

“What a way to go.”

“Don't make fun of me. What you're trying to do here is wrong...”

“And if I get one last wish before I die, I want another one of those kisses.”

“Do you take anything seriously?”

Zach cocked his head, as if considering this. “I try not to. As a matter of principle. I mean, stuff happens whether you worry about it or not, so why bother?”

“That's not what I mean. Don't you take your actions seriously? Don't you think about the impact of what you do?”

“No. Never.” Zach shook his head, once and firmly, decisively changing the subject as Jen had seen him do once before. She'd hit a nerve, she was sure of it, and she was intrigued.

But then, maybe that was just part of his game.

“Look at this,” he invited and curiosity drew Jen after him, despite her better judgment. Zach pulled out a pile of prints out of one of the kitchen drawers and offered them to her.

Jen hesitated in the doorway.

“I promise not to bite.”

“I was looking for a sharp knife,” Jen retorted but he laughed.

He held out the prints, unafraid. She sighed, then took them from him. They were his shots from Thanksgiving Day and they were good. She would have loved to have been able to just toss them aside, but they were too good. He seemed to have a knack for catching people in action, often in the midst of a characteristic gesture. This was her family, distilled and captured at their best.

Jen lingered on the ones of her grandmother, knowing she'd never seen any better shots of Gran. She couldn't think of a thing to say, especially when Zach hovered so close beside her. He obviously was anxious about her response and she knew from that alone that his photography was important to him.

“They're good,” she said, not even wanting to lie. “You really caught their characters.”

He grinned, looking ready to bounce again. “I'll give you some prints. Just pick the ones you want and I'll blow them up.”

Jen shoved a hand through her hair with impatience. It was exasperating how he kept coming back to the same issue, how he insisted upon building bonds between them. “Look, Zach, we're not going to do this. You don't have to pretend to be in love with me. We're not going to pretend to get married. We're not going to build fake links between our lives just for the fun of destroying them. There will be no performance, understand?”

He was insulted, she saw that immediately. “That's not what this is about. You like the shots. I'll give you some prints.”

“Why would you do that? Why would you bother?”

Zach winked. “Because I'm head over heels in love with you, of course.”

“That's it!” Jen dropped the prints on the counter and reached for his throat with both hands. “Liar! How could anybody trust anything that you say?”

Zach evaded her easily. Worse, he caught her hands in his and they ended up dancing—sort of—around his kitchen. He was enjoying her anger too much. “Okay, I won't give you prints if that makes you feel better.” He nodded to one drawer. “The knife's in there, but you'll have to let go of me to go for it.”

There was nothing more annoying than not being taken seriously.