Desire: A Single Dad Contemporary Romance Page 9

  21

  Stella

  What the hell was Zac doing here yesterday? It was great seeing him, but so weird at the same time, under the circumstances. And why is dad all hush-hush about why he invited Zac over? I shake my head in frustration. Normally, dad would tell me everything, but not this time. He said it was a surprise. I love surprises, but what could Zac have to do with it? Is dad going to get a tat?

  I laugh at the thought as I leave my separate house on my father’s grounds. While I walk over to the main building, the neurons in my brain are playing all kinds of tricks on me. Thinking of Zac always seems to turn me into a walking, talking mess. He was so fucking sexy yesterday in his tight jeans and signature t-shirt, and seeing him with his daughter was cuter than I could have ever imagined. I find that men who hang out with their kids are so much more masculine—a real turn-on.

  God, what I would give to see him again. I should never have left for that appointment with Crystal yesterday. What a waste of time. All we did was talk about Zac anyway. I roll my eyes to myself, frustrated. Crystal actually thinks that I should go over to the Eye of the Needle and ask him out on a date. Like I’m going to do that. If Zac thinks I’m hot and wants something from me, he knows where to find me.

  “Good morning, Miss Hutchinson. I trust you slept well, ma’am.”

  “Yes, thank you, Alfred, very well.” I walk over to the chair on the large terrace in front of the main building and sit down. It’s the same spot where Zac had sat the day before. I sniff the air in the hope that I might still be able to catch a whiff of him. Jesus, this is crazy. What’s going on with me? All I can think about is Zac.

  “Miss Hutchinson, will it be the usual this morning?”

  I look up at my father’s butler. The two of them have been together for God knows how long. I smile at the elderly man warmly. Alfred’s an easy man to smile at. His affable visage and bushy white eyebrows make him look like a beardless version of Santa Claus. I nod. “Yes, Alfred, the same as usual.”

  “Very good, ma’am.” Without another word, Alfred disappears inside of the house.

  I look down at the table. Just like every morning, the newspaper lies next to my plate. I pick it up, but I cannot read the words. They appear to dance about on the page. Instead, I’m rewarded with a blurred image of Zac without his t-shirt.

  I sigh. This has got to stop. I feel like a pubescent girl with her first crush on the hot guy living next door.

  “Your breakfast, ma’am.”

  Oh, Alfred’s back. He always walks so silently. “Thanks,” I say, taking a peek at the bowl containing the chia seeds, coconut, soya milk, honey, and blueberries.

  Alfred leaves without another word. I poke the gooey substance in the bowl with my spoon. I usually love the healthy fare my dad’s kitchen produces, but I can’t seem to find my appetite. I suddenly wonder what Zac might have for breakfast and I smile knowingly. He looks like a steak and eggs kind of guy. I bet he devours a full plate and downs a liter of coffee. If he were my beau, I’d take care of him though, and make sure he stayed healthy.

  I only manage a few spoonfuls before I get up. Today’s just not the day for a full breakfast. And besides, it feels as if my stomach is populated by something else. A colony of butterflies seem to have taken over my insides and it feels so weird.

  I walk back inside of the mansion and head for my dad’s study with hope that I might catch him before he heads out. I want to ask him what Zac was doing here the previous day and this time, I am determined to get an answer.

  As I stand in front of the door to my father’s study, I look to the left, where dad has another room he uses when he hosts his business associates. Usually, it’s all decked out with many chairs and a podium for presentations. This time, though, I can’t help but notice the difference through the door that’s slightly ajar. The conference room is void of furniture.

  Without another thought, I move away from my dad’s study and step into the other room to the left.

  “Oh my God.” I cover my mouth with my hand and swallow my gasp.

  “No, just me.” Zac scowls at me. Fuck, he’s just as feral as usual. Does he always have to be so grumpy?

  Getting over my initial shock, I let my gaze flitter around the room. I’m having difficulty comprehending what I’m seeing, because my gaze keeps dropping on Zac. He has removed his t-shirt and looks good enough to eat, with his dark hair all jumbled on his head and tumbling in an untidy mess down his neck. He’s like something out of a GQ Magazine, when they had this article on the real alpha dude with the ‘nobody fucks with me attitude’. None of the guys in that article had anything on Zac.

  “So, what are you doing here, Zac?” I take a tentative step forward. My mind is still in turmoil at seeing him again. The tattoo of the tiger on his chest appears to wink at me in a taunting gesture. I swear I can see my tongue rolling along the lines of his chest, licking a nipple and giving it a little twirl. His skin has a perfect bronze hue, and his shoulders are so broad. Fuck, this guy is just so hot.

  He shrugs. “What’s it look like I’m doing?”

  I frown as I look at him, covered in small splatters of paint.

  “Painting.” Yeah, he’s painting, which surprises me. What the hell is he doing here painting? “What are you painting? Something for my dad?”

  “Yeah.” Zac returns his attention to the huge canvas before him.

  I swear I saw him smile victoriously at seeing me again. I spend a few seconds admiring his glistening muscles and washboard abs. Off and on, I let one of the many tattoos on his torso distract me. Fuck, I could spend hours just looking at him.

  “Do you mind if I take a look?” I say, wanting to get closer to him. I tense as I half-expect one of his customary snide remarks.

  “Yes, I do mind. You have no business being here. Your dad is paying me a lot of money for discretion on this project.”

  Yep, and Zac never disappoints. With all the eye contact yesterday, I had thought he might begin to soften up, but that hope has already gone right out the window. My first instinct is to turn around and leave Mr. Grumpy alone, but I can’t. Now that I have him in my house, I have to talk to him. I take a few steps in his direction. Another scowl on his part makes me stop in my tracks, so instead, I turn and sit down on an antique chaise longue in the middle of the room. “Is it okay if I sit here?” I ask in my sweetest voice.

  He doesn’t even look at me. All I get is another grunt from behind the large canvas. Why the fuck am I doing this? I’ve got better things to do than to throw myself at some dude who doesn’t even care that I exist.

  “The tat you did looks good,” I say, trying to make casual conversation. I don’t know why, but I blush like a virgin hearing about her best friend’s first time with her guy.

  Zac grunts again. The sound is throaty and carnal. It makes the spot between my legs melt. Damn, he’s doing it to me again. I’m all wobbly knees and slickness when I’m around him. I desperately try not to think naughty thoughts. I’m trying so hard and yet I’m failing so miserably. Fuck, what kind of hold does this guy have over me? Usually, if a man treats me like this, I’m out of the room in seconds.

  A deep silence permeates the room. Apart from the scratching sound of the brush on the canvas, I hear nothing. My heart’s thumping heavily in my ribcage. It feels as if it’s going to shoot up my throat and erupt out of my mouth. What can I say? There’s got to be something I can say to make him talk and utter some more other than monosyllabic snorts.

  “How’s Azure?”

  Zac doesn’t answer. I wait a few more heartbeats. “How’s your daughter doing? Azure?”

  “I know my daughter’s name,” he snaps.

  I still can’t see him. His face is hidden behind the canvas. Frowning, I’m about to give up. This is a waste of time. This guy has absolutely no interest in me whatsoever. I look down and press my lips together in defeat. Yep, time to go.

  “She’s fine. Thanks for asking.”

&
nbsp; My eyes snap up. I look in the direction of the sound of his voice and see that he’s looking at me from behind the canvas. His gaze is different, its habitual aloofness gone. What changed? I get to my feet and start to walk towards him. I take special care not to walk too quickly lest he tell me to go away again. I take the last steps to the canvas and turn. I’m standing right next to him, and I can smell his scent that intoxicates my mind. Jesus, nobody smells this good. Getting to grips with the turmoil I’m feeling, I look at the painting and what I see has my jaw dropping onto the floor.

  “Wow, you’re good.”

  Zac laughs far too loudly. “You’re really able to say a lot of shit in one day, huh? I just started this morning, so you can’t see fuck all yet.” He snorts and flicks his brush at the painting. “This is just a jumble of lines.”

  It takes all my willpower not to shout at him and tell him that he’s an uncouth fuck. I’m not going to reduce myself to his level. “Fine. What’s it to be in the end, then?” I ask sweetly.

  “When it’s finished, it should be an abstract of your mother.” He pointed to something on the table next to him.

  I look at the photograph of my mom and smile. It’s my dad’s favorite one of her, from when they had spent the morning at the beach in the Hamptons one summer before I was born. My eyes glisten up a little when I think that I never had the chance to really get to know her. “It’s a nice pic of her,” I say, relegating the burgeoning sadness to the back of my mind.

  “Yeah, it is.” Zac’s voice is barely a whisper.

  I smile. It’s the nicest thing he’s said this morning. “Why did dad choose you? I mean, how did he even find you?” It just doesn’t make sense to me that a man who works as a tattoo artist has found his way into my dad’s home.

  Zac puts down the palette and the brush. He takes a cloth from the table and wipes his hands, but it doesn’t help much; his hands are still covered in color. “I present my work at the Petit Versailles. I guess your dad saw some of my stuff there.”

  “You . . . oh, my God, that was your work?”

  Zac looks back at me with a confused expression on his face.

  “I saw them the night I met you at the Eye of the Needle. The hotel manager, what’s his name again?”

  “Giovanni.”

  “Yeah, Giovanni told me a few things about your work.” I smile at Zac. He just got a zillion times hotter than he was if that’s even possible. Right now, I could have his babies. “You are seriously talented, Zac.” I move closer to him until my shoulder brushes his. The contact sends a violent electrical current over my body. I swear I feel my pussy react to it. I have to keep my eyes focused on the canvas, so as not to stare at his washboard stomach again.

  “Thanks, Stella. Painting has always been a passion of mine.” Zac’s grin grows wider as he speaks. His eyes seem to assess my body for the first time, making me feel hotter and more drawn to him. He seems pleased to be having such an effect on me. “When I paint, I immerse myself in another world.”

  I smile at him. It’s great to hear a man talk so passionately about what he does. “You spent quite some time with my dad yesterday. Must’ve been quite an interview?”

  Zac guffaws. He seems to be relaxing a little. “It was. We spoke a lot about this and that. We spoke of our daughters and what it’s like being single dads who love their daughters to shreds.” He smiles a little, and my heart melts.

  “Us daughters are our daddies’ pride and joy.” The notion makes me feel happy.

  Zac looks at me. “You got that right. Your dad really loves you. It’s understandable.” His last words are barely audible.

  A huge smile covers my face. Hah, he thinks I didn’t hear him, but I got every word.

  I decide to stay on the topic of daughters, since it seems to relax him and make him less standoffish. “Sure, you’re talented, but I guess one of the reasons my dad chose you to paint my mom is because you love Azure so much. You both share a similar situation.”

  Zac looks at me carefully. I can see his mind working like crazy behind those gorgeous blue eyes of his. He looks as if he’s preparing to ask me something, and I’m ready to answer any question, to do anything, really, for him.

  “Look, can I ask you something?”

  I knew it. I arch my eyebrows in anticipation, knowing that this is going to be interesting.

  Zac clears his throat. “I need your advice on something, Stella . . . it’s not really advice, just a woman’s point of view.”

  I tense. He said my name. It sounds so good hearing it come out of his mouth. Feeling the mix of different emotions shooting through me, I watch Zac struggle with his next words. Not once do I celebrate the fact that he’s taking me seriously for the first time since we met.

  “This friend of mine has a daughter who acts like a mother goose when she is around him—you know, telling him what to do and interfering in his private life—and then she won’t even tell him a single thing about what’s going on in her life.”

  I wait for Zac to say more. I watch him shuffle on his feet. Is he nervous? There’s something he’s not telling me here. “Go on, Zac,” I tell him.

  Zac swallows. I can see he’s having trouble formulating his next words and that’s when it dawns on me. This is not a friend’s problem, it’s his. “This girl started rolling her eyes constantly. I may not have Cary Grant’s manners, but I sure as hell know that rolling your eyes at people is rude as shit. It’s driving my buddy insane.”

  I have to stifle a laugh. Zac sure does have a way with words. At the same time, my heart could melt. He wants my help with his daughter, that’s so cute. I rack my brains for a moment. There’s no way that I’m going to fuck this up. I, too, clear my throat. “What are you trying to tell me, Zac?”

  He swallows deeply. “This girl needs a woman’s touch.”

  I smile. “This girl, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Let me get this straight, your friend’s daughter treats her dad in a sort of motherly fashion and then she rolls her eyes all the time.”

  Zac nods.

  “I assume this buddy of yours is worried because he needs to have a position of authority during the difficult teenage years.”

  Zac nods again.

  “That’s easy.” I smile warmly as I tease him for a few more moments. “What’s the girl’s name?”

  Zac blanches. I swear it’s the first time I’ve seen him really cornered. I let him sweat it out a while and it warms me to see that he’s such a lousy liar. I know of men who can spin an untruth in milliseconds.

  “The girl’s name wouldn’t happen to be Azure, would it?”

  “Yeah.”

  I can see that Zac feels like an idiot and I don’t want to lose him because of this. I’ve finally got him on the hook, and I’m damn well going to make the most of it.

  “So, now that we’ve got the young lady’s identity settled, why don’t you tell me some more?” I smile at Zac when I see the tension leave his body, and he adopts his customary confident posture.

  “If I go barging into her life right now, it will only alienate her even more from me. She’ll freeze and do all kinds of stupid stuff. Also, I’m not willing to wait for something terrible to happen for me to save her in the last moment for her to understand.” Zac walks off in the direction of the chaise longue in the center of the room and sits down with a sigh.

  Deep in thought, I follow him over to the seat. What he says makes perfect sense. A woman’s touch is so vital when dealing with pubescent girls.

  “What do you have in mind, Zac?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know, you’re the woman. You tell me what I’ve got to do with Azure.”

  A small smile flitters across my lips. “Okay, I’ll tell you what to do.”

  Zac, who has buried his head in his hands, looks up at me, hopeful. “Cool.”

  “But under one condition.” I give him my most intimidating stare, indicating that this is not up for negotiation.

>   “And the condition?” he asks suspiciously.

  “You take me out for dinner to thank me.”

  Zac doesn’t laugh. He weighs up my suggestion as if I’d demanded he kill the president of the United States for me. With a grunt, he says, “Okay, if your advice is good, I’ll take you to a place of your choosing. Deal?” Standing up, he holds out his hand formally.

  I’ll take it. “Deal,” I say, triumphantly.

  As he sits down, Zac pats on the free space next to him and nods at me that I should start giving him my advice. I sit down and, to my surprise, he doesn’t interrupt me once when I speak. I can’t help but think that despite his gruff exterior, he’s quite deep.

  “One day I went to a party and two guys tried to force me to have sex with them. My dad smelled it a mile off. I was lucky. Somehow, he had found out from one of the maids that I was going to a party he had expressly forbidden me to go to.”

  Zac arches his eyebrows. “I’d go ballistic if Azure ever did something like that to me.”

  “Oh, trust me, my dad went nuts. He arrived on the scene, took care of the two guys and I was grounded for three months.”

  “What happed to the guys?” Zac asks, appearing genuinely interested.

  I smile. “Dad threatened them with their lives. Everybody knew that he was a big shot movie producer, and they assumed he had the contacts. After they had pissed their pants, he let them go.”

  I laugh, remembering that night.

  “Those two idiots were never the same after that. Anyhow, what you’ve got to do is set the boundaries so that it never comes so far with you and Azure. Start with the eye rolling. Tell her it looks ridiculous. Because trust me, she has no problem telling you when you do something stupid.”

  Zac nods. I can feel his body heat in the small space that separates us. It feels so good to speak to him about something so private. Better still, I’m happy that he seems to be taking my advice so seriously. “As far as I see it, you should tell Azure straight out that she should stop rolling her eyes at people. You must set up a certain boundary that clearly defines both of your roles.”