A Facade to Shatter(48)

Always.

What was his end goal now?

He ran a hand over his face and tried to focus on the computer in front of him. Less than twenty-four hours ago, he’d been at the Lattimores’ cocktail party, mingling and schmoozing the guests for contributions to his causes.

Now he was on a jet to Hawaii, having taken a side trip to Las Vegas where he’d stood in a seedy little chapel and pledged to love, honor and cherish Lia Corretti until death do them part.

Which, of course, was a lie.

They would not be together until death.

There was a purpose for this match, a reason they had to join forces. He was protecting her from her family’s wrath, first of all. Second, he was avoiding a media scandal that would be troublesome and inconvenient were it to erupt.

Except those reasons no longer felt like the whole truth.

Zach closed the computer with a snap. He couldn’t concentrate on business right now. All he could think about was Lia, asleep in the bedroom, her body curled sweetly beneath the sheets, her hair spread out in an auburn curtain he wanted to slide his fingers into.

This need for her was like a quiet, swelling tide. The more he denied it, the stronger and more insistent it grew.

And now he was taking her to a remote location, where the distractions would be minimal. How would he keep his hands off her?

Did he even need to? She’d certainly kissed him back yesterday in the garden. Until that moment when she’d pushed him away, she’d been as into the kiss as he had. He’d forgotten where they were, why he couldn’t have her the way he wanted then and there. He’d been ready to lift her skirt and push her back on the grass if it gave him the release he needed.

But she’d been the one to say no. The one to remind him this wasn’t normal between them.

Zach snorted. Hell, what was normal anymore? He’d left normal in the rearview the moment his plane disintegrated beneath him and he’d hit the eject button. Nothing since had been the same.

But, for a few minutes yesterday, he’d felt like it had. And, he had to admit, for those blissful few hours in Palermo, too. When he’d been with Lia, he hadn’t forgotten—but he’d felt as if he could accept what had happened, what his life had become, and move on.

Why did she do that to him? Why did she make him hope for more?

Lia Corretti—Lia Scott—was a dangerous woman. Dangerous for him. It had taken time, but he’d learned how to live with himself in the aftermath of his rescue.

She threatened to explode it all in his face. To force him to face the things he kept buried. If he told her, would she understand? Or would she recoil in horror?

He got to his feet and paced the length of the main cabin. A flight attendant appeared as if by magic.

“Did you need anything, sir?”

“Thanks, but no,” he said, waving her off again. She disappeared into the galley and he was alone once more.

He was restless, prowling, his mind racing through the facts, through the possibilities. Since he’d met Lia, nothing had been the same. And now they were married, and he was feeling shell-shocked—and hungry.

Hungry for her. He’d thought he could keep it at bay, that this arrangement between them would be tidy. But he’d been wrong. So very wrong.

Soon, he had to do something about this hunger—or go mad denying it.

Maui was bright and beautiful, with a rolling blue surf—which changed from deep sapphire to the purest lapis, depending on the depth—impossibly blue sky and green palm trees that stood in tall clusters, their lush foliage fanning out from the top like a funky hairdo.

Except there were other kinds of palm trees, too, Lia noticed, palms that were short and looked like giant pineapples jutting out of the ground. The tropical flowers were colorful, exotic and so sweetly scented that she fell in love with the island’s perfumed air immediately.

A car was waiting at the airport when their private jet landed, and a dark-haired woman in a brightly patterned dress greeted them with leis. Lia’s was made of fragrant tuberose and plumeria, while Zach’s was open on the end and made from kukui nuts and green ti leaves and tiny puka shells.

They got into the back of a Hummer limo and drove across an island that was flat in the middle and ringed by mountains. On one side was Haleakala, the tall volcanic mountain that could boast more than one climate. At the bottom, the weather was warm and tropical, but at the top, Zach informed her, it was often windy, rainy and cloudy. It was also bare and cratered, like the surface of the moon. But, before you got that high, there was an Alpine region, with chalets and misty cool air.