Any Way You Want It (Brand Clan #2)(61)

That was the night they finally became lovers.

Right there, on the plush oriental rug with the ghost of his wife watching, Heath had removed Zandra’s clothes and made love to her. He was sweet and gentle, and when it was over, he’d cried some more and thanked her.

Years later when she opened her escort agency, she would reminisce about her relationship with Heath and fondly reflect that he’d been her very first client.

And now as they sat across from each other inside the quaint café, sipping tea and nibbling warm scones, she realized how happy she was to see him again. And judging by the smile wreathing his face, he felt the same.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” he confessed. “You stopped responding to my letters and emails.”

“I know.” Zandra sighed. “I’m sorry, Heath. After I returned home, I just needed time to sort through everything...get my life back on track.”

His expression softened. “I’m sorry I couldn’t attend your mum’s funeral.”

“That’s all right,” Zandra said quietly. “I didn’t want to be there myself. Didn’t want her to be gone.”

Heath nodded understandingly. He knew all about that kind of grief.

Silence fell between them.

“No London fog,” Zandra murmured, something they used to say to each other when it was time to change a subject that had become too maudlin.

Heath remembered, and took the hint. “Let’s see. I’m forty-seven now, so that would make you—”

“Thirty-two,” Zandra said wryly. “Old enough to wanna kick your ass for having the impertinence to bring up my age.”

He laughed, shaking his head at her. “Still cheeky as ever.”

“Damn straight.” She grinned as she polished off a scone, each flaky bite filling her with nostalgia.

Heath reached across the table, wiped a dab of clotted cream from the corner of her mouth and licked his finger.

Zandra smiled at him.

He smiled back. “I kept hoping you’d return to London for good, but I knew you wouldn’t.”

Zandra paused, her teacup halfway to her mouth. “How did you know?”

A quiet, intuitive gleam filled his eyes. “Your heart was in Chicago. Always has been.”

Zandra sipped her tea, saying nothing.

“So tell me more about him,” Heath invited.

“Him?”

“You know who I’m talking about. The man you brought with you to London.” Heath paused. “It’s Remington Brand, isn’t it?”

Zandra shot him a surprised look. “You still remember his name?”

“Of course. If it weren’t for him, you might have fallen as madly in love with me as I fell for you.”

Zandra slowly set her teacup down on the table. “Don’t talk like that,” she murmured.

“But it’s the truth.” Heath chuckled softly. “I remember how your face would light up whenever you talked about him. Oh, you had plenty of wonderful things to say about his family, as well. But Remington clearly brought you the most joy—and aggravation. I remember how worried you were when he joined the navy, and I remember how you grumbled and complained because he wasn’t good at keeping in touch. I always knew when you’d received one of his rare letters. You’d bring it to the house with you, and during your study break, you’d sneak it out and read it with this secretive smile on your face, as if you were savoring every word. I’d stand in the doorway watching you, and I’d think to myself, ‘When is this poor girl going to realize she’s in love?’” Heath smiled gently. “It was only a matter of time before it happened.”

Zandra brought her hands up to her cheeks. Her skin was hot and flushed.

“Look at you. You’re blushing like a schoolgirl.” At her affronted look, Heath laughed. “That wasn’t meant as an insult, love. You were always such an old soul, Zandra. Wise and troubled beyond your years. I don’t know how long you and Remington have been dating, but it’s obvious that he makes you happy. Happier than I ever remember seeing you.”

Zandra made no reply, picking up her tea and sipping quietly.

“You always imagined him when we made love.”

Zandra nearly choked on her tea. The cup rattled into the saucer as she set it down, her eyes snapping to Heath’s face.

“Wh-what did you say?”

The corners of his lips quirked with wry humor. “Did you think I didn’t know that you fantasized about making love to Remington when you were with me?”

Zandra was astonished. Had she?

“If I did, it wasn’t because you were a bad lover, Heath,” she hastened to assure him. “I always enjoyed being with you.”

“I know. I felt genuine passion from you.” His eyes glinted. “But he’s the one you really wanted to be shagging.”

Heat rushed over Zandra, scorching her from scalp to toes. “I... It’s not something I consciously thought about. I’ve known Remington practically all my life. He was the most important male in my universe. And as we grew older, he became...well, I guess he became, to me, the quintessential embodiment of masculinity. And he...he... Oh, God.” She turned and stared out the window, her face burning with mortification.