A Facade to Shatter Page 11

  “Coming?”

  How could she say no? She was ridiculously touched that he’d made her an omelet, and ridiculously touched that he’d shared something private with her. She walked over to the island and hopped onto the bar stool. Zach retrieved a fork and napkin, poured her a glass of juice and sat across from her, chin on his hand as he watched her take the first bite.

  The omelet was good, creamy and buttery, with just the right amount of cheese. But it was hard to eat it when he was watching her. She could feel her face growing hot as she slid a bite between her lips.

  “You have to stop staring at me,” she finally said when her heart was thrumming and her face was so hot that he surely must see the pink suffusing her skin.

  “I want to make sure you eat it all.”

  “I won’t be able to if you don’t stop watching me.”

  He sighed. “Fine.” He sat back on the bar stool and turned to look out the window. “Better?”

  “Yes. Grazie.”

  Though she hadn’t thought she was hungry, the omelet was good enough that she took another bite. Lia glanced up at Zach, and her heart pinched in that funny way it did whenever she realized how very attractive he was. And how little she really knew him.

  “Thank you,” she said after a minute. “It’s very good.”

  “Hard to mess up an omelet,” he said. “But I’m glad you like it.”

  “I could,” she said. “Mess up an omelet, that is.”

  He turned to look at her. “You can’t cook?”

  She shrugged. “Not really, no. Nonna tried to teach me, but I’m hopeless with the whole thing. I get the pan too hot or not hot enough. I either burn things or make gelatinous messes. I decided it was best to step away from the kitchen and let others do the work. Better for all involved.”

  “How long have you lived with your grandparents?”

  “Since I was a baby,” she said, her heart aching for a different reason now. The old feelings of shame and inadequacy and confusion suffused her. “My mother died when I was little and my father sent me to my grandparents. I grew up there.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what it’s like to lose a mother, but I can’t imagine it was easy.”

  Lia shrugged. “I don’t remember her, but I know she was very beautiful. A movie star who fell in love with a handsome Sicilian and gave up everything to be with him. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out.” She moved a slice of omelet around on the plate. “My father remarried soon after she died.”

  She could see him trying to work it out. Why she hadn’t gone to live with her father and his new wife. Why they’d left a baby with her grandparents. Bitterness flooded her then. She’d often wondered the same thing herself, until she was old enough to know why they didn’t take her back. She was simply unwanted.

  The words poured out before she could stop them. “My father pretended like his new family was the only family he had. He did not want me. He never sent presents or called or acknowledged me the few times he did see me. It was as if I was someone else’s child rather than his.”

  Zach reached for her hand, enclosed it in his big, warm one. “Lia, I’m sorry that happened to you.”

  She sniffed. “Yes, well. Now you know why I had to tell you about the baby. I didn’t have a father. I wanted one.”

  “Yeah,” he said softly, “I understand.”

  Ridiculously, a tear spilled down her cheek. She turned her head, hoping he wouldn’t see. But of course he did. He put a finger under her chin and turned her back again. She kept her eyes downcast, hoping that if she didn’t look at him, she wouldn’t keep crying. She didn’t want to seem weak or emotional, and yet that’s exactly how she felt at the moment.

  Thinking of her childhood, and the way her father had rejected her, always made her feel vulnerable. Another tear fell, and then another.

  Zach wiped them away silently. She was grateful he didn’t say anything else. He just let her cry.

  “I’m sorry,” she said after a minute. “I don’t know why …” Her voice trailed off into nothing as she swallowed hard to keep the knot in her throat from breaking free.

  Zach let her go and scraped back from the island. Another moment and he was by her side, pulling her into the warm solidness of his body.

  She pressed her face against his chest and closed her eyes. Her arms, she vaguely realized, were around his waist, holding tight. He put a hand in her hair, cupping her head. The other rubbed her back.

  “It’s okay, Lia. Sometimes you have to let it out.”

  She held him hard for a long time—and then she pushed away, not because she didn’t enjoy being in his arms, but because she was enjoying it too much. Her life was confusing enough already.

  “I haven’t cried over this in years,” she said, not looking at him. “I’m sure it’s the hormones.”

  “No doubt.”

  She swiped her palms beneath her cheeks and wiped them on her leggings. Dio, how attractive she must be right now, with puffy eyes and a red nose.

  “It won’t happen again,” she said fiercely. “I’m over it.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “I wonder—do we ever get over the things that affect us so profoundly? Or do we just think we do?”

  Lia sniffled. “I’d like to think so. Not that the past doesn’t inform our experience, but if all we do is dwell on it, how will we ever have much of a present?”

  She felt a little like a hypocrite, considering how often she’d felt unwanted and out of sync with her family. But she didn’t let it rule her. Or she was determined not to. Perhaps that was a better way of saying it. It crept in from time to time, like now, but that didn’t mean it was in charge.

  His eyes glittered in the morning light. “Precisely. And yet sometimes we can’t help but dwell on a thing.”

  She knew what he meant. “Your dreams.”

  “That’s part of it.”

  Lia closed her eyes for a moment. She was in over her head with this. How could what she’d been through compare to his ordeal? Shot down, injured, nearly killed, watching others be killed before your eyes. It made her shiver.

  “I think maybe there’s something in our psyches that won’t let go,” she said. “Until one day it does.”

  He looked troubled. “There were things that happened out there, things—”

  He stopped talking abruptly, turned his head to look out the window. His jaw was hard, tight. But he swallowed once, heavily, and her heart went out to him.

  “What things?” she whispered, her throat aching. When he turned back to her, his eyes were hot, burning with an emotion that stunned her. Self-loathing? It didn’t seem possible, and yet …

  He opened his mouth. And then closed it again. Finally, he spoke. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “No.”

  Jesus, he was losing his mind. She’d been here for two days and he wanted to tell her everything. He wanted to take her to his bed, strip her naked and worship every last inch of her body. Which she would not allow him to do if he told her his darkest fears. His deepest secrets.

  If she knew how flawed he was, she’d run far and fast in the opposite direction. She’d take that baby in her womb and get the hell away from him. Hell, she’d probably get a restraining order against him.

  Her eyes were wide and blue as she sat on that bar stool and looked up at him. Innocent.

  God, Lia was so very innocent. She would never understand what he’d been through, or what he’d almost done out there in that trench. Hell, he didn’t understand it himself. He lived with the guilt every minute of his life and he still didn’t understand it.

  She was at a loss for words. He could see that. She dropped her gaze again, and he stepped away from her, breathed in air that wasn’t scented with her intoxicating lavender and vanilla and lemon scent.

  His body was hard. Aching. He hadn’t needed a woman this much in … well, he couldn’t remember. The last time had been with her. He wanted her again.

  Now wou
ldn’t be soon enough. But she was sweet and delicate and pregnant. She did not need him making sexual demands of her just yet.

  Zach rubbed a hand over his head. He couldn’t think straight. His entire plan had been to protect his family from scandal—but really, was that the reason? His father had been in office for over two decades now. Would the news his son had knocked up a girl really shock anyone enough that they might not vote for him if he ran for president?

  But what if Zach knocked her up and abandoned her to raise the child alone? Yeah, that might raise some heads. But so what?

  It was his life, not his father’s. Besides, his father had people who spun these things for him. Any scandal of Zach’s, unless it involved criminal activities, wasn’t likely to touch his father’s career—or the funding for the veterans’ causes that Zach worked so hard to obtain.

  His plan, such as it was, had little to do with protecting anyone, if he were truthful.

  And everything to do with the odd pull Lia Corretti had on him.

  He wanted her, even if his brain had had trouble figuring that out at first. He’d nearly sent her away. He could hardly credit it at this moment.

  “I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

  His gaze slewed her way. She was toying with the remains of her omelet. He had a sudden, overwhelming urge to tell her what she wanted to know.

  But he couldn’t. How could he say the words? He’d never said them to anyone. And if he did, what would she think of him? Would she look at him with terror or pity in her expression?

  He couldn’t bear either.

  “It’s not you,” he said, because he didn’t want to see that hurt expression on her face. She had so much to be hurt about, he realized, now that he knew about her father and what he’d done to her.

  Rotten bastard. If the man was still alive, Zach would love to get his hands on him.

  He blew out a harsh breath. “It’s just … I don’t talk about what happened out there. Not to anyone.”

  “It’s okay. I understand.”

  She wasn’t looking at him. He walked over and tilted her chin up with a finger. Her eyes were liquid blue, so deep he could drown in them.

  “Do you?” he asked.

  “Yes.” Her voice was firm. “I know what it’s like to have things that hurt you. Things you can’t talk about.”

  The idea anyone had ever hurt her made him want to howl.

  She reached up and wrapped her hand around his wrist. It was a soft touch, gentle—and he felt the ricochet effect all the way down to his toes. If he kissed her now, here, would she kiss him back?

  “But if you ever want to talk about it,” she was saying, “I’m here.”

  Here. His. He lowered his mouth, brushed his lips gently across hers. Her intake of breath made a current of hot possession slide into his veins. He wanted to hold her closer, kiss her harder.

  Instead, he lifted his head and walked away.

  CHAPTER TEN

  LIA CAREFULLY BRUSHED her hair and donned the dress she’d chosen for this afternoon’s cocktail party. Her reflection in the mirror looked the same as always, but she felt as if she’d been changed somehow. Her lips tingled at the thought of Zach, at that light brush of a kiss that had not really been a kiss.

  She’d wanted more. She’d wanted to reach up and pull him to her and not let him go until he’d thoroughly kissed her.

  And then some.

  But he’d walked away without a word. He’d had no trouble doing so. He’d left her sitting there with a half-eaten omelet and a fire inside her that wouldn’t go away.

  She was mortified. And angry. He might not want her, but he had no right making her want him. If he tried that again, she was going to sock him.

  Because her heart couldn’t take it. He smiled and laughed and fixed her an omelet, and she wanted to sigh and melt and bask in his presence.

  Pitiful, Lia. Just like Carmela had accused her of being. She’d spent so many years wanting to belong to a family that shunned her, and now she was up to her same old tricks with Zach. When would she ever learn? She had her baby now, and that would have to be enough. This thing with Zach was temporary.

  He’d told her as much in her hotel room, hadn’t he?

  Except, dear heaven, when she thought of him this morning, telling her why he’d joined the military and why he continued to book public appearances even though they were difficult for him—well, she wanted to know him. Really know him.

  She didn’t want this to be temporary when he said things like that. She wanted this to be real. She wanted a chance. They’d gone about it backward, no doubt, but there was something about Zach that hadn’t let her have a moment’s peace since the instant she’d seen him in that ballroom in Palermo.

  She wanted him in her life, and she wanted him to want her.

  Lia picked up her perfume and dabbed a very little behind her ears and in the hollow over her collarbone. Then she grabbed her phone to check her email one last time before slipping it into her bag.

  There was another email from Rosa. She opened it and read carefully, her heart rising a bit with every line. She had, after careful deliberation, answered Rosa’s initial email. Now she had a reply. One that was friendly and open and even a little curious.

  Lia sighed. Just when she’d given up on ever having a relationship with any Corretti other than her grandmother, this happened. She was pleased, but she was also baffled. It was as if so long as she wanted a connection, it would always elude her. The moment she stopped caring, or stopped wanting what she wasn’t going to get, it happened.

  If she could force herself not to care about Zach, would he suddenly be interested?

  Lia frowned. If only it worked that way. She dropped her phone into her bag and went to meet Zach. He was waiting for her in the grand living room that overlooked the lawn and the river beyond. He looked up as she walked in, his dark eyes sparking with a sudden heat that threatened to leave her breathless.

  His gaze drifted over her appreciatively. Tiny flames of hunger licked at her skin wherever he looked. Then he met her eyes again. The fire in her belly spiked. For a moment, she thought he might close the distance between them and draw her into his arms.

  He did not, of course. Zach was nothing if not supremely controlled. Disappointment swirled inside her as they drove to the Lattimores’ cocktail party. She kept her gaze focused straight ahead, but she was very aware of Zach’s big hand on the gearshift so near her knee.

  It was insane to be this crazy aware of a man, and yet she couldn’t help it. Zach filled her senses. The more she worked to keep it from happening, the worse it got. He was the sun at the center of her orbit when he was near, no matter how she tried to ignore him.

  The event was in a gorgeous mansion in Georgetown. After leaving the car with the valet, Zach escorted her into the gathering, his hand firmly on the small of her back. Lia’s stomach vibrated with butterflies. Last night, she’d simply been the woman on his arm at an event. Tonight, she was his fiancée, and the media would take a more pointed interest in her now.

  She’d seen the papers in his office, and read the stories about all-American hero Zach Scott and the mystery woman he was suddenly engaged to marry. Of course there was speculation as to why. That didn’t surprise her at all.

  The story basically went that Zach had traveled to Palermo for a wedding, met the groom’s cousin and had a whirlwind romance. They also speculated that she and Zach had conducted this affair over the phone and through email until they simply couldn’t stand to be separated any longer.

  It was a lovely hypothesis, though laughably far from the truth.

  Zach, however, seemed determined to play his role to the hilt once they entered the party. He was the besotted fiancé. He stayed by her side, fetched her drinks, kept a hand on her arm or her waist or her shoulder. Lia took a sip of her nonalcoholic cocktail and tried to calm the racing of her heart.

  Zach’s touch was driving her insan
e.

  She could hardly remember half the people she met, or half the conversations she had. Her entire focus was on Zach’s hand, on his warm, large presence beside her. On the butterflies that hadn’t abated. Oh, no, they kept swirling, higher and faster, each time Zach touched her.

  It was all she could do not to climb up his frame in front of everyone and kiss him senseless.

  Her senses were on red alert, and her body was primed for him. Only him.

  It irritated her, but she couldn’t stop it. She watched him as he spoke with a gray-haired woman, watched the curve of his mouth when he laughed, the sparkle in his eyes and the long, lean fingers of his hand—the one she could see—as he held his drink.

  Lia closed her eyes, tried to blot out the visual of that hand tracing a sensual path over her body. It didn’t work, especially since she knew precisely how it would feel.

  His arm went around her and she shuddered. “Darling, are you all right?”

  Lia looked up at him, into those dark beautiful eyes that seemed full of concern for her. It was an act, she told herself. An act.

  Her heart didn’t care. It turned over inside her chest—and then it cracked wide-open, filling with feelings she didn’t want.

  “I—” She swallowed and licked her suddenly dry lips. “I need to freshen up,” she blurted.

  Without waiting for his reply, she turned and made her way blindly through the crowd until she found an exit. It didn’t take her down a hall toward the restrooms, as she’d hoped, but spilled out onto a covered patio that gave way to a manicured garden with a tall hedge. Lia walked right down the path and between the hedges before she realized it was actually a maze.

  Her heart beat hard as she breathed in the clean air, hoping to calm down before she went back inside and faced all those people—and Zach—again.

  What was the matter with her? Why had she come unglued like that?

  Because she was Lia Corretti, that’s why. Lost little girl looking for love, for a home, for someone who needed her. She’d been staring at Zach, letting her mind wander, letting her fantasies get the best of her.