A Perfect Husband. Fiona Brand

to Medinos.

      She dragged in a shallow breath. She needed to step back, calm down, forget the crazy attraction that zinged through her every time she was near Zane. Constantine and Lucas had both gone through gorgeous women like hot knives through butter, but Zane had a reputation that scorched.

      His breath feathered her lips. She closed her eyes and his mouth touched hers, seducingly warm and soft. A shock wave of heat shimmered out from that one small point of contact.

      He lifted his head. His gaze, veiled by inky lashes, locked on hers. Instead of straightening, his hands dropped to her waist. The heat from his palms burned through the finely tailored silk as he drew her closer.

      The motorized whirr of cameras and the buzz of conversation receded as she clutched at Zane’s shoulders and angled her jaw, allowing him more comfortable access. This time the kiss was firmer, heated, deliberate, sizzling all the way to her toes. By the time Zane lifted his mouth, her head was spinning and her legs felt as limp as noodles.

      The smattering of applause and wolf whistles shunted her back to earth. She stared at the forest of microphones trying to break through the wall of security, her wild moment of rebellion evaporating.

      The phrase “out of the frying pan and into the fire” once more reverberated through her. “Now they’ll think I’m sleeping with you as well.”

      Zane’s arm locked around her waist as he propelled her through the reporters and into the room in which the press conference was being held. “Think of it this way, if you’re with me, at least now they’ll wonder who dumped whom.”

      Forty-five minutes later the official part of the press conference was over. Lucas and Carla, Lucas’s mother, Maria Therese, and Constantine’s P.A. Tomas had left in a flurry of publicity over their engagement announcement and the further announcement that Sienna and Constantine were expecting a baby.

      Zane flowed smoothly to his feet. “Now we leave.”

      Relieved that Lucas’s announcement had taken the unnerving focus of the press off her, Lilah hooked the strap of her handbag over her shoulder.

      Two steps onto the still crowded floor and an elegant blonde backed by a TV crew shoved a mike at Zane. “Can we expect another engagement announcement soon?”

      “No comment.” Zane lengthened his stride, bypassing the TV crew and the question as he propelled her toward the elevator.

      Even though Lilah knew that Zane’s lack of response was the only sensible option, his comment left her feeling oddly flat and definitely manipulated.

      The end of the nonrelationship with Lucas had not mattered. Standing on the pavement the previous evening while a reporter had snapped her witnessing Lucas and Carla locked in a passionate clinch had not been a feel-good moment. But, as embarrassing as her association with Zane’s brother had turned out to be, after the toe-curling intimacy of the kisses in front of the media, in that moment she felt the most betrayed by Zane.