An Heir To Make A Marriage

The dark smudge of Central Park was visible in the distance and lights twinkled from the buildings around them, giving the illusion of being suspended in mid-air, amongst the tall structures.

‘This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,’ she breathed in awe, thinking poignantly of her mother, who had loved gardens.

‘It took some time to perfect.’

She looked at Zac as understanding dawned. ‘You built this...? How long did it take?’

* * *

Five years, to be precise. But Zac didn’t say that. He led Rose over to an elevated terrace that looked in the opposite direction.

When they were at the railing he guided her in front of him and placed his arms around hers, his hands resting on either side of her on the rail. Trapping her against him.

He gritted his jaw but his body reacted helplessly, rising to the temptation of the provocation of her buttocks against him.

She was tense. Again, not a reaction he was used to with women, who were generally all too eager to capitalise on his exclusive interest.

In a bid to slow the blood rushing to his crotch, he leant forward slightly and pointed. ‘See over there? That’s the Rockefeller Center.’

Her head moved to the left, away from Zac, and he struggled not to press his mouth to her bared neck. The urge to bite that pale skin was almost overwhelming. With some dark humour he figured that he knew how vampires felt. Her scent was light and floral. Sweet. Sexy. Intoxicating.

Curbing his desire, he pointed again to the right. ‘That’s Carnegie Hall. Times Square is just beyond.’

Rose’s face was close to Zac’s now, turning to follow the direction of his finger. She was trembling very lightly, her hands in a white-knuckled grip on the railing.

Her voice was husky. ‘Is this what you do to impress women?’ She huffed a little laugh. ‘I have to admit, it’s working.’

Zac stood up straight, surprised at the immediate indignation he felt. He was no angel, but he resented the insinuation that this was a well-worn routine.

He turned Rose to face him. Her green eyes were huge. Luminous. ‘I don’t bring any women up here. You’re the first.’

* * *

Rose looked up at one of Manhattan’s most desirable men, standing against the backdrop of a glittering city that he could command to do his will with a mere click of his fingers. It was the kind of view most New Yorkers were only lucky enough to see if they queued up to climb the Empire State building or similar tourist attractions. And it was in his backyard.

It was all so unexpected...and especially this amazing, incongruous and wondrous slice of greenery that he’d created, which was so magical.

She desperately wanted to believe he was just spinning her a line, because that would help her feel disgusted with herself—and him. And that would give her the impetus she needed to leave, and walk away.

But she couldn’t move—treacherously. Was he lying? But why would he lie? As if he needed to impress a woman with a mere garden—even if it did soar magically above one of the most vibrant cities in the world. The thought that she really might be the first woman he’d brought here was a little overwhelming and ultimately too seductive to resist.

As if sensing her vacillation, her desire to believe him, Zac cupped her jaw, his fingers light on the back of her neck. ‘I’ve never met anyone like you, Rose. You’re different...’

She swallowed down an urge to giggle at his understatement. ‘You can say that again.’

Her heart thumped erratically against her breastbone. She wasn’t aware of their surroundings any more, only of the fact that he was looking at her as if she truly was...something special.

For all that she had a soft, romantic core that she didn’t show to the world, and in spite of her unfashionable lack of experience, she was street-smart and had a healthy cynicism about men and love.

You couldn’t be a woman living in the twenty-first century in New York and not know that fairy tales really only existed in movies or books. But Zac Valenti was dangerous, because he made her yearn for something that she’d seen between her parents. He made her think that perhaps the fairy tale was possible...

Zac’s head ducked at that moment, and before Rose could finish her thought his mouth was settling over hers and words and thoughts fused into one blinding white flash of heat.

Fairy tales were the last thing on Rose’s mind now, under the masterful and expert touch of Zac’s hard mouth. Carnality—that was on her mind as heat raced through her bloodstream and into every erogenous zone, breathing fire into her nerve endings until they were tingling and jumping.

He’d cupped both hands around her face now, and his tongue was sliding past her shamefully weak and shy resistance to stroke and explore, urging her mouth open, compelling her to accept him.

The sheer power of his kiss was breathtaking, and so was the arrogance with which he calmly and methodically went about stealing her sanity.

Rose only realised she was clinging on to his waist when her fingers encountered hard, unyielding muscle. The kiss was hard, yet soft, and rough enough to send a thrill through her. She was gasping when Zac left her mouth to kiss along her jawline.

He pulled her closer, one arm wrapped so far around her back that his hand slid under her dress, across her bare skin. His fingers were tantalisingly close to her breast. His other hand undid her hair and Rose could feel it fall down and his fingers exploring, threading through the silken strands, cupping her skull.

Rose let her head fall back, giving him better access to her jaw and neck, and his mouth blazed a trail of fire across her skin.

Dimly, she knew she should be making some kind of effort to stop this, but the temptation to go deeper into this new world of sensations was too great to resist. She felt powerful, feminine. Desirable.

Zac lifted his head from her neck and Rose looked up, dazed. Her breath was coming fast and harsh and her breasts were moving against his chest, making her aware of how hard her nipples were.

His eyes burned a bright blue, his cheeks were flushed, and a lock of hair flopped onto his brow. It made her feel curiously tender amidst the tumult rushing through her system.

Then he subtly moved his hips, and the bold thrust of his erection told her far more starkly just how real this was. And his words.

‘I want you.’

His voice sounded guttural and almost coarse. It should have jarred against this beautiful and civilised backdrop, but it didn’t. Because high on this terrace, overlooking the shining city, Rose felt disconnected from everything but this moment and this man. His coarseness and his arousal resonated deep inside her.

She struggled to put some kind of brake on this crazy, all-consuming urge just to say yes. She put her hands on his chest, forced some space between them. She felt undone, with her hair around her face and her mouth swollen from his kisses.

‘I don’t...do this.’ The words were a hopelessly ineffectual attempt to articulate her confusion.

Zac finally—mercifully—straightened and moved back a little too. His mouth twisted. ‘Would you believe me if I said I don’t do this either?’

The space between them finally restored some of Rose’s functioning brain cells. Because she knew very well that Zac might not have brought a woman up to this garden, but he did do this. Very frequently, if the gossip columns were to be believed.

She stepped back, burningly aware of the telltale dampness between her legs. She folded her arms across her chest, residual heat making her feel prickly. ‘You might not do this here, but you do seduce women elsewhere. So, no, I don’t believe you when you say you “don’t do this”.’

His expression hardened, giving Rose an insight into another, more intimidating side of this man that she hadn’t seen yet.

‘I’m not a monk, but I’m not a player. Women know where they stand with me, and when I take a lover I’m faithful to her for as long as it lasts. We have fun and then we move on. I’m not into commitment.’

I’m not into commitment. Rose hated the swoop of her insides to hear it articulated so baldly.

She lifted her chin. ‘And is that what you’re offering here?’ She cursed herself, feeling impossibly gauche. Show the girl from Queens a cool club and an even cooler secret rooftop garden and she’d be eating out of your hand like a bird. Throw in one of the world’s most gorgeous and eligible bachelors and she’d be ready to do a lot more.

But that’s why you’re here, a snide voice reminded her. So who was she to judge him? He didn’t deserve her judgment!

Rose whirled away from that penetrating blue gaze before he might see something, her stomach in knots and her brain freezing at the thought that what she’d been sent to accomplish had so nearly become a reality...