The Innocent Behind The Scandal - Abby Green Page 0,31

rush.’

She’d watched him walk away, totally conflicted and reeling at his unexpected chivalry, but also wondering why he wasn’t trying to rip her clothes off.

Maybe he’d gone off her? Or maybe he was well aware of his effect on her and was priming her, so that when he did seduce her she’d be begging him.

She turned and buried her face in the pillow and tried to ignore the ache of frustration in her lower belly—a wholly new sensation.

She flipped over on her back again. With Dean it had been more about the connection they’d had since they were teenagers, in the same foster home. He’d been the first boy to kiss her. When she’d left Ireland she’d broken up with him, and it hadn’t been that much of a wrench. After all, they hadn’t even slept together. He’d pushed for it a couple of times, but something had always held her back.

She’d been surprised at the level of affection she’d felt when he’d appeared in London, asking to see her. She knew now that she’d confused that emotion and her desire with a loneliness that she hadn’t wanted to acknowledge.

And Dean had taken advantage of that to sneak under her skin. Convincing her that there was still something romantic...sexual between them. But, as had happened in the past, when he’d pushed for intimacy something inside her had clammed up. She hadn’t wanted it.

He’d backed off the first couple of times, but then...that last night...he’d grown angry. Accused her of teasing him. Grown violent. Revealed his real reason for coming back into her life.

Zoe shut the memory out.

Dean was gone. Thankfully she’d managed to get rid of him before he’d done anything serious to her. But she wouldn’t forget his horrible, nasty words and the sense of betrayal that had taken her breath away. ‘Frigid, stingy bitch.’

The phone by Zoe’s bed rang and she seized the opportunity for distraction.

Maks. Her pulse skipped a beat.

His voice was deep. Sexy. ‘Morning. Are you awake?’

Zoe lay back, a delicious sizzle of anticipation in her gut. ‘I am now.’

‘Be ready in ten minutes. I’m taking you for breakfast.’

She smiled into the phone. ‘Has anyone ever told you you’re very bossy?’

‘Frequently. Now, move.’

‘These pyshki are the best in St Petersburg.’

Zoe looked at the doughnuts. She had thought she was full, after the lavish breakfast served in one of St Petersburg’s most ornate and oldest cafés, but now her mouth watered again. If she wasn’t careful she’d have to be wheeled back to London.

‘Here, try one with the coffee.’

Maks handed her a plate holding about five doughnuts and then a coffee. Zoe dutifully took a bite, and as the flaky sweet texture melted on her tongue she moaned. She took a sip of coffee—the perfect accompaniment to the sweetness.

She looked at Maks, casual in dark jeans, top and jacket. His jaw was stubbled, as if he hadn’t been bothered to shave that day. It made him look more dangerous. Sexy.

She helped herself to another small doughnut. ‘So, where to now?’

She was surprised at how much she enjoyed just spending time with Maks. He was easy company for someone who made her insides knot with need whenever he looked at her.

‘I thought we could—’ He broke off and picked his ringing mobile phone out of an inside pocket. He answered it. ‘Yes?’ He frowned. ‘Okay, tell Pierre I’ll be right there.’

‘What’s up?’ Zoe asked.

Maks made a face. ‘I have to go to the fashion shoot. Our very temperamental famous photographer is freaking out because his assistant has got a bug and couldn’t come in.’

Zoe was shocked at the level of disappointment she felt. ‘Oh, that’s okay. You should be working anyway. I can go back and get my camera and look around the sites myself.’

‘Come with me. You said you were interested in fashion photography.’

Zoe was shocked. ‘I couldn’t... I mean...really? Would that be okay?’

Maks shrugged. ‘Why not? Probably be good for you to see an egotistical maestro in his natural habitat and use it as a lesson in how not to be.’

On the way over to the shoot, excitement fizzed in Zoe’s belly. ‘Why do you hire people like this photographer if he’s so horrible?’

‘I didn’t want to hire him—the brand insisted. But I’m not suffering people like him for much longer. There’s no need to behave like a petulant child, no matter how talented you might be.’

Zoe agreed.

They arrived at a street that was cordoned off by Security, who let them in. Their driver parked up