Zoe's Lesson. Кейт Хьюит

Battle scarred from all the trashy tabloid talk, the stares and whispers?

      ‘Why?’ she finally asked, and forced herself to smile. ‘Are you out of coffee?’

      ‘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.

      ‘I can’t say much for your hospitality,’ she finally managed. Her voice sounded scratchy, and her throat felt sore.

      ‘No,’ Max agreed. His mouth was set in a hard line, the expression in his eyes chilly and so terribly resolute.

      ‘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?

      ‘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.’

      ‘Sorry.’ He didn’t sound sorry at all.