Zoe and the Tormented Tycoon by Kate Hewitt Read Free Book Online Page B

flat.
    â€˜Oh.’ She paused, hitching the sheet more firmly around her. ‘Well, perhaps I could make another pot. And maybe borrow one of your shirts?’ She raised her eyebrows, tossing her hair over her shoulders, determined to seem far more insouciant and confident than she felt. What man could resist a woman wrapped in a sheet after all?
    â€˜I don’t think that’s a good idea.’
    Apparently Max could. Zoe’s hand clenched on the sheet, and the satin slipped under her fingers. Max regarded her with a remote coolness that made her throat dry and her eyes sting.
    No. No, please, no. Not this. Not this utter rejection, the look in his eyes one of…annoyance? Zoe feared that was the humiliating emotion she saw there. She was no more than an irritation to be dealt with before he got on with his day.
    Or was she overreacting? Battle scarred from all the trashy tabloid talk, the stares and whispers?
    â€˜Why?’ she finally asked, and forced herself to smile. ‘Are you out of coffee?’
    â€˜No, I’m not,’ Max replied. ‘But I don’t think you should stay long enough to warrant coffee or clothes.’
    Zoe blinked. She felt as if she’d been slapped. She opened her mouth but for once any witty retort or rejoinder deserted her. Her mind was blank, numb, and she looked away, blinking hard.
    â€˜I can’t say much for your hospitality,’ she finally managed. Her voice sounded scratchy, and her throat felt sore.
    â€˜No,’ Max agreed. His mouth was set in a hard line, the expression in his eyes chilly and so terribly resolute.
    â€˜Did last night not mean anything to you?’ Zoe asked, wincing even as the words came out of her mouth. What a stupid question to ask. Obviously it didn’t; he really couldn’t make it any plainer. Was she a glutton for punishment, demanding the torture of him explaining himself even more?
    â€˜No,’ Max said again, and Zoe bit her lip. ‘And I don’t think it meant much to you either.’
    How could he say that, Zoe wondered, when she’d felt so different, so new ? How could he believe it? Pride forced herself to smile coolly and toss her hair over her shoulders. ‘Well, even so, a parting cup of coffee would be a courtesy, at least.’
    â€˜Sorry.’ He didn’t sound sorry at all.
    â€˜Right. Well.’ She gripped the sheet tightly; the last thing she wanted was for the thing to fall off completely and leave her standing completely naked in front of this man who had used and rejected her with a clinical, cold cruelty.
    And she had let him.
    She’d wanted to forget…and she had to give Max that—he’d allowed her to forget.
    And now she just had more pain and heartache to remember. To try to forget…again.
    â€˜You might want to explain to your future lovers that you have a strict morning-after policy,’ she said, gripping a handful of sheet, her teeth gritted even though she managed to keep her voice cutting rather than wobbly, as if she were angry rather than desolate or even heartbroken. ‘Out before eight o’clock.’
    â€˜Actually, it’s almost nine,’ Max drawled in a bored voice. ‘But I’ll keep that in mind.’
    â€˜Bastard,’ Zoe hissed. She couldn’t keep herself from saying it; it was better than crying.
    Max swivelled to face her fully for the first time since she’d come out on the terrace.
    â€˜You knew what you were getting into, Zoe,’ he said coolly. ‘ Just Zoe. Some men might sugarcoat it a bit more than I do, but the fact remains the same. We had a night together, and it’s over. Now I have work to do.’
    He rose from his chair, one hand braced against the table. Zoe didn’t move, and his mouth tightened.
    â€˜You need to go.’
    â€˜What about—’ Zoe swallowed the words. What was the point of asking, What about when I touched your scar? I