His Brand of Passion (12 page)

‘Zoe,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘No.’

‘I’m sorry I hurt you when I offered you that money. I’m sorry I didn’t give us more of a chance when I should have.’

‘No.’

‘And most of all I’m sorry for the loss of our baby. I wanted that child, Zoe. I didn’t even realise how much until—’ He stopped, his voice choking, and the tears she’d only just managed to hold back finally fell, coursing down her cheeks in a hot river as she shook her head, still trying to deny his words, the effect they were having on her.

All her defences were crumbling. Her heart was laid bare, weak, trembling organ that it was—defenceless, vulnerable.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, and he wiped the tears from her cheeks, his arms around her, holding and protecting her. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said again, a plea, a promise. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’

Zoe didn’t answer. she couldn’t, for now that the tears had fallen the grief she’d locked deep inside came pouring out; her body shook with sobs and she buried her damp face in the warmth of Aaron’s neck as she let her sadness overtake her.

She didn’t know how long she cried. Time ceased to matter or even exist as Aaron held her and she poured out her heart. Eventually she stopped, utterly drained, yet feeling more replete than she had in a long time. She pulled away from him a little, wiped her face. ‘I suppose I needed that.’

‘I think you did.’

Yet now that she’d let the sadness out she didn’t know what was left. she felt empty and, while it didn’t feel too bad now, it still scared her. The future scared her, stretching endlessly ahead, and even though she craved the warmth and comfort of Aaron’s arms she knew she couldn’t stay there. Didn’t even belong there.

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘For—for understanding.’ She tried to slip off his lap, but his arms tightened around her and he wouldn’t let her go.

‘Don’t, Zoe.’

‘Don’t what?’

‘Don’t push me away again.’

She forced herself to say the truth. ‘It’s not as if there’s any future for us, Aaron.’

‘Isn’t there?’

She stilled, too shocked to form words. ‘What do you mean?’ she finally managed in a whisper.

‘I know we came together out of expediency.’

‘Making the best of a bad situation,’ Zoe reminded him, her voice sharpening just a little.

Aaron acknowledged this with a nod. ‘But I still feel something for you, Zoe, just like you told me I did. I haven’t been able to admit it even to myself, but you saw it. You saw the truth in me.’

‘Wishful thinking on my part,’ Zoe managed and he shook his head.

‘No, it’s the truth. I care about you, and I don’t want to walk away just because things have changed.’

Zoe didn’t answer. Her mind whirled with this new information, because in all the scenarios she’d foggily envisioned she had never once imagined this. She was the one who fell too hard, too fast, who threw herself into relationships, desperate to make them work, to prove she could make them work. And Aaron had made it all too abundantly clear that he didn’t do relationships. Didn’t do love. Had he really changed that much? Had she?

‘Say something,’ Aaron said softly as he brushed the remnants of tears from her eyes. ‘Tell me what you’re thinking.’

‘I don’t know what to think. I never expected you to want more from me. Frankly I thought—I thought you’d be relieved.’

‘Which is why you were angry at me,’ Aaron surmised. ‘Well, in all honesty, I expected to be relieved. I even wanted to be because, hell, that’s easier. But I’m not, Zoe.’ He touched her chin with his fingertip and angled her face towards him. ‘I can’t promise you anything, because I don’t know what I’m capable of. I haven’t had a serious relationship with a woman—ever.’ He let out a shaky laugh. ‘That sounds rather grim, doesn’t it?’

‘Honestly? Yes.’ Zoe managed a smile. ‘But I’m glad you’re admitting it.’

‘But I want to try,’ he said softly. ‘With you.’

Zoe thrilled to hear the words yet, whether it was a thrill of excitement, joy or just fear she didn’t know. Probably all three. She knew herself, knew that if she entered a relationship with Aaron, a proper one, she’d fall fast and hard as she always did. Faster and harder, even, because already this man had stirred up way too many emotions inside her. Already she knew she felt more for him—far more—than she’d ever felt before.

And if she fell and Aaron didn’t? If he tried and failed? He hadn’t even mentioned love, and Zoe was feeling too raw and exposed already to bring it up. Could she survive that all-too-likely scenario?

‘I’m afraid,’ she said quietly. ‘I don’t want to get hurt, Aaron.’

‘I know.’ He said nothing else, made no promises, just as he had said he wouldn’t.

She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t risk so much, not when she’d lost so much already. She might be healing, but the scars were livid, fresh and still so very painful.

‘I always have such bad timing,’ Aaron murmured as he touched a fingertip to her eyelash, where another tear was already forming. ‘I shouldn’t have said all this now, when I just got here and we’ve barely talked. I’m sorry.’

‘Stop apologising,’ she said with a little smile. ‘I think you must have said more sorries tonight than you ever have in your whole lifetime.’

‘I have,’ he admitted. ‘I never say sorry. I never admit I’m wrong.’

‘Why not?’

He thought for a moment. ‘Because admitting it is showing weakness and I don’t want to be weak.’

‘Telling someone you want to be with them could be seen as weakness too,’ Zoe pointed out. Aaron met her gaze steadily.

‘I know.’

Her heart seemed to turn right over. He really was trying. Really was laying himself bare. How could she turn away from that? How could she keep her own heart intact when Aaron was trying to offer his own? Or at least as much of it as he knew how to.

She took a shuddering breath. ‘Aaron…’

‘Don’t answer me now,’ he said, pressing a finger against her parted lips. ‘You need to think. Rest. Recover. All I ask is that you let me stay here with you.’

She nodded, his finger still against her mouth. With a small smile he traced the outline of her lips with the tip of his finger. Zoe felt a little pulse of longing deep in her belly, a jolt to her system, reminding her that she was awake, alive.

‘Then we should both rest. Together, if you’ll have me. I’ve missed sleeping with my arms around you.’

She smiled, blinked hard. ‘I’ve missed having them around me,’ she whispered.

Silently Aaron led her to the master bedroom. As they got in bed Zoe hesitated for a moment, frozen in her loneliness and fear, before Aaron’s arms came around her and her body reacted, instinctively knowing what to do. What she needed. She nestled into his embrace, her legs twining with his, her arms coming around his middle, glorying in the feel of him, hard muscle and hot skin.

Once again she was home.

A
ARON WOKE UP
with Zoe’s hair trailing across his bare chest, his hand cupping the warm fullness of her breast. He went immediately and painfully hard, even as he felt a thrill of both terror and joy.

This was so unbearably unfamiliar, so out of his control, and yet already so necessary and even vital. Nothing he’d said to her last night had been planned or expected. Every word out of his mouth had shocked him as much as he thought it had her:
All I ask is that you let me stay here with you…Maybe I’ve changed…I want to try…with you
.

He wasn’t sure if he believed any of it, if he
could
. He’d lived his life in determined solitary independence, had wanted and needed to. The lessons he’d learned from his father went soul-deep:
don’t trust anyone. Don’t need anyone. Don’t be weak
.

And yet his father had broken all his own rules, rules he’d drilled into his oldest son from the age of five—a realisation which had made Aaron only more determined. He wouldn’t be like that. He’d take his father’s lessons to heart and he’d live them. Perfectly.

Yet now he was breaking every rule spectacularly—and why? Because the few weeks he’d spent with Zoe had been the most awkward, intimate and wonderful of his whole life—and he wanted more. Even if it terrified him.

He felt Zoe stir in his arms and he glanced down at her, saw the fog of sleep in her eyes replaced with a wary smile. She wasn’t sure of this either. Last night had been intense, with the tears, the honesty and the grief, but this was something else entirely. This was a beginning—but of what?

‘Good morning,’ he said, his voice a morning rasp.

‘Good morning.’

‘Sleep well?’

‘Actually, yes.’ She stretched and then curled back into him, sending a kick of lust ricocheting through him. He knew, what with the complications of the ectopic pregnancy, sex was out for at least a few weeks. His body, however, didn’t seem to have received that memo. ‘Did you?’

‘Yes,’ he admitted, because honestly he’d never expected to like sharing his bed, for it to feel so good. So right.

‘And now?’ Zoe asked softly, and he saw all the uncertainty in her eyes. Uncertainty about him.

‘I thought you might be tired of kicking around the resort,’ he said.

‘Okay…’

‘So we could go sailing.’

A smile tugged at her mouth. ‘You have a boat?’

‘Yep.’

‘That sounds wonderful,’ she said, and Aaron’s heart swelled with an emotion he could not name.

An hour later they were on the water, the sea placid and shimmering with a brilliant morning sun. Zoe sat on the cushioned seat in the stern of the boat, her legs tucked up to her chest, her face tilted to the sun. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail but tendrils and wisps had escaped, turned wild and curly by the sea air.

Aaron loved looking at her, loved seeing her relaxed and happy. He felt his heart swell again, and this time he knew it was with hope. She must have felt him gazing at her, for she
lowered her head, raising one hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun, and turned to him with a smile.

‘Do you know, I’ve actually never been on a sailing boat before?’

‘Never?’ They were in for a good run and so Aaron took the opportunity to join Zoe in the stern. ‘How come?’

She shrugged. ‘I was never a very sporty girl. Books and art were more my thing. But I have to admit, this is pretty amazing.’ She glanced at him, curiosity flaring silver in her eyes. ‘Did you Bryant boys all learn to sail at around the age of two?’

‘More like six.’ He sat down next to her, his thigh nudging her hip and sending a painful flare of awareness through him. It was going to be a tough day for his libido. ‘We had a house out in the Hamptons, right on the Sound.’

‘Had?’

This was somewhat dangerous territory, he realised. He didn’t like talking about his childhood, the mistakes his father had made. ‘It was sold when my father died.’

‘When did your father die?’

‘Ages ago, when I was twenty-one.’ Just old enough to take the reins of Bryant Enterprises and realise how tightly he’d have to hold on to them.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly. ‘It must be hard, not to have either of your parents alive.’

He shrugged. ‘It’s been a long time.’

‘A long time on your own. Why aren’t you close to your brothers?’

Another shrug; he really didn’t like talking about this. Was this what relationships were, all this honesty and intimacy, like peeling back your skin? No wonder he’d avoided them for so long.

‘Aaron.’ She laid a hand on his arm. ‘I’m not trying to pry, you know. I promise I won’t psychoanalyse. I just want to get
to know you. And I want you to get to know me.’ He could think of ways of getting to know her that did not involve such messy questions or any conversation at all.

With a sigh, he nodded. ‘I know. I’m just not used to…talking about things.’

‘I realise.’ She gave him the glimmer of a smile. ‘You can ask me some questions, if you want.’

‘What made you go into art therapy?’

‘The practical answer is that I knew I would never make it as an artist professionally, but I still wanted to do something related to art. The emotional one is that I like helping people, and being useful.’ She gave a little laugh that sounded to Aaron like it had a bitter edge. ‘Funny, really.’

‘Why is that funny?’

Now she was the one shrugging, her gaze sliding away from his. ‘I don’t know. I suppose I’m not considered to have lived a very productive life.’

He frowned. ‘Says who?’

‘Put me next to Millie, with her super-important career and her completely together life, and I look pretty—useless.’ She let out another quick laugh then shook her head, the movement almost frantic. ‘Which is a terrible comparison to make, I know, because Millie’s been through a lot and I can hardly discount—’ She stopped suddenly, pressing her lips together. ‘Oh, it doesn’t matter anyway.’

Aaron stretched his legs out. ‘Obviously it does.’

‘Obviously?’ she repeated, arching an eyebrow. ‘Are you going to play psychologist on me, Aaron? Because that so does not seem your style.’

‘You’re the therapist,’ he answered with a smile.

‘Right. Maybe I should draw myself a picture.’

‘Now you sound as cynical as me.’

She laughed, the sound ending on a sigh. ‘No. I suppose I’ve always had a bit of an inferiority complex when it comes
to my sister. Millie doesn’t make me feel that way—not for a minute. It’s more my parents. And myself.’ She lapsed into silence, frowning as she gazed into the distance.

Aaron knew he should get up and tack but he was reluctant to abandon this conversation. Zoe was sharing more with him than he’d expected, and to his own surprise he found he wanted to know. ‘So your parents wanted you to be a hedge-fund manager?’

‘Didn’t yours?’ she flashed back, and he tensed. So they were back to him. He should have known he couldn’t avoid personal questions for ever, or even for ten minutes.

‘They certainly did.’

‘Were you always meant to take over Bryant Enterprises?’

‘Always.’ He did not have a memory in which that expectation had not weighed heavily on him; it had nearly crippled him.

‘What about your brothers?’

‘They were meant to have responsibilities, as well. Luke was in charge of the retail division until a few months ago.’ He still felt a frisson of shock that Luke had just given it all up, walked away from Bryant Enterprises and all that it meant. He was free. ‘And Chase was disinherited by my father when he was nineteen.’

‘Ouch. Why?’

‘He screwed up one too many times. He was a bit of a wild kid.’

‘And you?’ Zoe asked softly. ‘You were meant to be in charge of it all?’

‘That’s about it.’ He tried to speak lightly but somehow his throat became constricted and he felt a welling of emotion in him that he didn’t understand. Why did this woman wrest emotions from him, like drawing out poison? He felt it seep out of him, infecting everything, leaving him weak.

Zoe laid a hand on his arm; her skin was soft and warm
from the sun. ‘You don’t like your job, do you?’ she asked quietly.

‘I hate it.’ The words slipped out before he could stop them, and the vehemence with which he spoke surprised them both. It shocked him, really, and he felt a scorching rush of shame that he could have been so weak to admit such a thing, or even to feel it. That he could have betrayed his father, his family, so easily—and to a woman. Hadn’t he learned anything from his father’s mistakes?

Quickly Aaron slipped from the seat and walked back to the bow of the boat. It was time to tack.

Zoe watched Aaron walk away from her, every muscle in his body taut with tension. He’d said too much, she thought with a sigh. At least, he felt he had. She sat there, the sun still streaming over her, and let him go. Maybe he needed a little distance.

She knew her fatal tendency in relationships was to push. Demand or beg, it didn’t matter which, but she got desperate and needy and no one liked that, not even herself. It was a legacy from Tim’s betrayal, that she insisted on believing in love even as all her history said otherwise.

She watched Aaron do something with the sail—she really didn’t know a thing about boats—and admired his long, lean torso, the wind pressing his polo shirt hard against the muscles of his chest. He squinted in the sun, his dark hair ruffled by the wind, and Zoe felt a surge of longing so deep and powerful it left her aching. The no-sex thing was going to be hard.

Dr Adams had told her she needed to have a check-up before he gave the all-clear, and since her surgery Zoe hadn’t given it so much as a thought. Sex had been just about the furthest thing from her grief-stricken mind. Now, however, even though the grief was still there and always would be,
she felt a fresh desire roll through her and remembered just how good sex with Aaron had been. Making love.

Would it be different, now that they cared more about each other? The thought sent another thrill ricocheting through her. It would be even more intense, more wonderful, more everything.

Smiling at the thought, she rose from the bench and joined him at the sail.

‘I have no idea what you’re doing,’ she remarked and Aaron raised his eyebrows.

‘Do you want a lesson?’

‘Not particularly. I like watching you, though. You look all manly and heroic.’

He let out a short laugh, shaking his head. Zoe was surprised and a little bit touched to see a faint blush tinge his cheekbones with colour. He was a man of authority and power, yet also one unused to receiving compliments, even teasing, lighthearted ones.

They kept the conversation casual as Aaron managed the sail, and eventually navigated the little craft to a sheltered cove on the other side of St Julian’s.

He brought out a picnic basket and laid a blanket on the sun-warmed deck of the boat. Zoe stretched out on it while Aaron served her delicacies from one of the resort’s restaurants—calamari and coconut shrimp; plantain accras; fritters; baked goat-cheese. They washed it all down with champagne, and ate succulent slices of fresh guava, papaya and passionfruit for dessert.

‘So how did you end up with a whole island to yourself?’ Zoe asked as they ate, gazing out at The secluded side of St Julian’s, the dense foliage fringing a white sand beach.

‘Not exactly myself,’ Aaron answered. ‘The island is owned jointly by my brothers and me.’

‘Even Chase?’

‘Even Chase. The island belonged to my grandfather and he left it directly to the three of us.’

‘Has it been in your family forever?’

‘Hardly. The Bryant fortune isn’t that old. My grandfather made most of it.’ He lapsed into a sudden silence, his eyes narrowing as he gazed into the distance.

‘And you and your father just added to the coffers?’

A pause, telling in its length. ‘Something like that.’

Zoe took a breath, wanting more. Wanting to understand this man she was just beginning to realise was unsettlingly complex. ‘Why do you hate your job, Aaron?’ she asked quietly.

He tensed but said nothing. Zoe waited. She really didn’t want to press, but neither was she willing to let it go. If they were going to attempt some kind of relationship, she needed more. She needed to know him.

‘Hate was probably too strong a word,’ he finally said—his voice deliberately mild, Zoe thought. ‘I didn’t choose it, put it that way.’

Zoe considered this. When he’d said he hated it, she’d felt those words come from somewhere deep inside him, somewhere she didn’t think he accessed all that often. And she was just about a hundred percent certain they were true.

‘If you hadn’t been born a Bryant,’ she asked after a moment, ‘what career path do you think you would have taken?’

Aaron shrugged. ‘Who knows. I never thought about it.’

‘Never?’

‘Never,’ he said flatly.

‘Is that what you don’t like? The lack of choice?’

‘What I didn’t like,’ Aaron said, the words coming sharp and sudden, ‘was being lied to. Over and over again, so my whole life was built on nothing but deception.’ He shook his head and then began clearing up the picnic things. ‘Enough about this. I don’t like to talk about it.’

‘About what—Bryant Enterprises? Your family? Your life?’ She heard the sharp edge to her own voice and realised that somehow they’d started arguing.

Aaron shot her a narrow glance. ‘I told you I didn’t know how much I had to give, Zoe.’

She felt her inside freeze, like he’d tipped a bucket of ice water straight into her soul. ‘And, less than one day in, you’re already tapped out?’

‘I don’t know.’ He pressed his fists against his eyes, his expression one of almost physical pain. ‘Damn it, I don’t
know.’

She’d done it again, Zoe thought. Pushed and pushed for more, because she didn’t know how to stop. Because she couldn’t let things take their natural course. This was day one, for heaven’s sake. She could have been a little more patient.

Gently she reached over, put her hands over his and drew them down from his face. ‘I’m sorry, Aaron.’

‘Sorry?’

‘For pushing you into talking about yourself when you’re not ready.’