The Innocent Behind The Scandal - Abby Green Page 0,18
backwards. She wasn’t just beautiful. She was stunning.
‘You too,’ she said. ‘I was just telling my darling brother—’
‘Sash, didn’t you say you had someone to meet?’
His sister’s grey eyes danced mischievously. ‘No...but I can take a hint. I hope we meet again, Zoe.’
Zoe watched her walk away, fading into the crowd. She turned to Maks. ‘You didn’t have to send her away.’
Maks took her arm. ‘Oh, yes, I did. She was bound to embarrass me—it’s her life’s mission.’
Zoe’s heart clenched. She’d had a younger brother. He would have been twenty-three. Would he have ribbed her like Sasha did Maks? Her heart ached.
Maks was looking down at her. ‘Ready to go?’
Zoe nodded quickly, afraid he’d see the sudden melancholy in her eyes. She worked so hard not to think of those things. ‘Thank you for this. I enjoyed seeing the photos.’
She didn’t mention that Taylor Cartwright had been a mentor of her father’s when he’d been young, travelling around North America and taking his first photographs.
Maks led her out of the gallery onto the street. Summer was tipping into autumn and there was the faintest chill in the evening air, a sign of things to come.
Zoe shivered slightly. Immediately Maks said, ‘Are you cold?’
His solicitude melted the cold around her heart. She shook her head. ‘No, I’m fine.’
‘So, can I take you for dinner? There’s a place not far from here.’
Seeing Maks with his sister and touching on the past again had made Zoe feel vulnerable. She didn’t want to be alone. But she knew that was just an excuse.
She looked up at Maks. ‘Sure, I’d like that.’
He smiled and, like his sister, it transformed his face, turning him from gorgeous into devastating.
He took her hand and led her to his car. She found that her usual anxiety around being in a car didn’t surface when she was with him. He drove so competently, not trying to show off. He didn’t need to. He oozed confidence.
Within ten minutes, Maks was driving down a quiet mews street.
Zoe frowned. ‘Where are we?’
‘Mayfair.’
He pulled to a stop outside one of the houses. It had dark brick and black-framed windows. It looked discreet and exclusive. She wondered if this was another private club.
As if reading her mind, Maks said, ‘This is my London townhouse.’
Zoe looked at him. She opened her mouth, but then she realised that he hadn’t actually specified where he was bringing her. He’d just said, ‘There’s a place...’
‘That’s rather underhand of you.’
‘I promise my intentions are very honourable. If you feel uncomfortable in any way, I’ll take you wherever you want to go.’ He made a crossing his heart motion.
Zoe didn’t trust him for a second. But it was more that she didn’t trust herself, if she was totally honest. She unclicked her seatbelt and watched as Maks uncoiled his tall frame from the driver’s seat to come round and help her out.
She was more intrigued than she liked to admit to see where he lived.
The door opened as Maks approached as if by magic. A middle-aged Asian man dressed in dark trousers and dark long-sleeved top greeted Maks.
‘Hamish, I’d like you to meet Zoe Collins.’
The man stepped forward at the door, smiling and holding out his hand. ‘You’re probably wondering how I came by a name like Hamish? I was born and brought up in Scotland when my parents emigrated there from Vietnam. I’m Maks’s housekeeping manager. Please, come in.’
Zoe was charmed by him and his soft Scottish burr. ‘Nice to meet you, Hamish.’
She walked into a sleek marbled hallway, decorated in tones of dark grey and silver. Understated. Elegant.
She heard Hamish say, ‘I’ll park the car, boss. Angie said dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes.’
‘Thanks, Hamish.’
Maks came and took Zoe’s hand again. She must have looked dumbstruck. He led her down the hall and into a sumptuous but again understated reception room. He let her hand go and walked over to an exquisite walnut drinks cabinet. It looked like a piece of art, not furniture.
‘Would you like a drink?’
Suddenly Zoe relished the prospect of some fortification. ‘A glass of white wine, if you have it?’
Maks came back with a glass of perfectly chilled white wine. He had a tumbler of what looked like whisky. He lifted his glass. ‘Cheers. Welcome to my home.’
‘Cheers.’ Zoe took a sip of wine, appreciating the dry crisp taste.
‘Please—sit, make yourself comfortable.’
Zoe looked around. There was an assortment of low couches and footstools set around glass tables covered in the latest coffee table