A Facade to Shatter(15)

And yet it was ending. They both knew it. Lia had to return to her grandparents’ estate, and Zach was going back to the States. He’d heard from Taylor, finally, and she’d told him everything was fine, though she was somehow now engaged to Lia’s brother Luca. Zach didn’t seem too happy about that, but he’d accepted it after they’d talked a bit longer.

He did not, Lia noticed, tell Taylor about her.

Yet she kept hoping for more, for some sign this meant more to him than simply sex. It had to. She couldn’t be the only one affected by this thing between them. Could she?

But when she awoke early the next morning, Zach was gone. She hadn’t heard a thing. His suitcase was gone, everything in the bathroom, everything that indicated he’d once been here.

All that remained was a single rose in a vase and a hastily scribbled note propped beside it. She snatched it up and opened it. The military medal fell out and hit the floor with a plink.

Lia’s pulse throbbed as she read the note.

Be well, Lia.

Her heart crumpled beneath the weight of those words. Words that meant well, but ultimately meant nothing. She retrieved the medal, and then sank onto the bed and lifted his pillow to her face. It still smelled like him and she breathed it in, seeking calm.

Zach was gone, and she was alone once more. Like always.





CHAPTER FOUR



THE EVENING WAS hot and muggy, and Zach stood off to one side of the crowd gathered at the country club. He took a sip from his water glass, cleverly disguised as a mixed drink by the addition of a lime slice and a cocktail stirrer, and then set it on a passing tray.

He never drank at functions like this. It was something he’d learned growing up. Always keep your head and always be prepared for any eventuality. His father hadn’t made a career in politics out of being imprudent, and Zach had learned the lesson well.

These days, however, he was less concerned with the good impression than he was with the opportunity to escape. Once he’d done his duty—made the speech, shook the hands, accepted the honor, cut the ribbon, got the promised funding for the Scott Foundation’s causes—he was gone.

Tonight, he’d had to give a speech. And right now, his father was holding court with a group of people he no doubt hoped would become campaign donors. His mother was circulating with the skill of a career politician’s wife, smiling and making polite small talk.

There were reporters in the room—there were always reporters—but the cameras were thankfully stowed at the moment. They’d come out during his speech, of course, and he’d had to work hard to concentrate on the crowd and not the flashes. A matron came over and started to talk to him. He nodded politely, spoke when necessary and kept his eye on the exit. The second he could excuse himself, he was gone. He’d already been here too long, and he was beginning to feel as if the walls were closing in.

He scanned the crowd out of habit, his gaze landing on a woman who made him think of Sicily. She was standing near the door, her head bowed so he couldn’t see her face. The crowd moved, closing off his view of her. His pulse started to thrum, but of course, she wasn’t Lia Corretti. Lia was in Sicily, no doubt making love to some other lucky bastard. A current of heat slid through him as he remembered her lush body arrayed before him.

If he’d been a different man, he’d have stayed in Sicily and kept her in his bed until they’d grown tired of each other. It’s what the old Zach would have done.

But the man he was now couldn’t take that chance. He’d spent two nights with her and she’d made him feel almost normal again. Yet it was a lie, and he’d known it.

He didn’t know Lia at all, really, but he knew she deserved better than that. Better than him.

“Zach?”

His head whipped around, his gaze clashing with the woman’s who’d moved through the crowd unseen and now stood before him. Shock coursed through him. It was as if he’d blinked and found himself whisked back to a different party. Almost against his will, his body responded to the stimulus of seeing her again. He wasn’t so inexperienced as to allow an unwanted erection, but a tingle of excitement buzzed in his veins nevertheless.

Lia Corretti gazed up at him, her blue-green eyes filled with some emotion he couldn’t place. Her dark red hair was twisted on her head, a few strands falling free to dangle over one shoulder. She was wearing a black dress with high heels and a simple pair of diamond earrings.

She wasn’t dripping in jewels like so many of the women in this room, yet she looked as if she belonged. The woman who’d been talking to him had thankfully melted away, her attention caught by someone else.