Scandals Of The Rich. Lynn Raye Harris

“Something like that.”

      She lifted her chin. “And if I refuse?”

      “Too late to back out now, babe. I told Elizabeth Cunningham you were my fiancée. Tomorrow, the papers will be filled with you and me. The whole city will be interested in the woman who captured my heart. And you will be at my side for every damn event I have to attend. Like it or not.”

      A tremor slid through her. “You’re no different than my grandfather was,” she said bitterly. “It’s all about appearances. The family. What will people think? What will they do if they know we’re human, too?” Lia cursed in Italian. “We can’t have that, can we? Because the family reputation is everything.”

      So long as you didn’t shame the family, so long as you kept your mouth shut and your head down, you could stay. But, oh, don’t expect them to care about you.

      Don’t ever expect that. She put her hand over her belly and vowed with everything in her that her child would never for one minute think public façades were more important than feelings. It was untenable, no matter the importance of the family.

      She started to turn away, but Zach gripped her arms. She tried to pull out of his hold, but he wouldn’t let her go. His face was so close to hers. And, in spite of her fury, her body was softening, aching. She hated that he did that to her. Especially when she did no such thing to him in return.

      “Some things are bigger than our own desires,” he said. “You know that.”

      Lia sucked in a breath that shook with tears. “And some things are more important than appearances.” She thought of him at the podium, of the way he’d looked when he’d started to fight the demons in his head, and then of the way he’d rushed out onto the terrace tonight, and she couldn’t stand that he would have to face the same issue again and again, and all for the sake of his family reputation. “Maybe you should talk to someone—”

      He let her go and shoved back, away from her. Then he swore. Explosively.

      A second later he was back, one long finger inches from her nose. It trembled as he pointed. If not for that single detail, she would have been frightened of his temper.

      “Leave it, Lia. It’s none of your business,” he growled. The finger dropped and he spun away, put both hands on the railing and stood there, drawing in breath after breath after breath.

      She didn’t know quite what to say. She hadn’t thought her suggestion would cause him such pain, but clearly it had. She hated that it did. And she hated that he wouldn’t share with her. That he lost his cool, but wouldn’t tell her what she so desperately wanted to know to help him.

      She closed her eyes and swallowed, and then closed the distance between them until she was beside him. He didn’t move or speak, and neither did she.

      “I’ll do my duty, Zach,” she said softly. “I’ll be at every event you are. And I won’t let them get to you.”

      No matter what she’d said about refusing to go along, she wouldn’t leave him to face those situations alone. Not after tonight. He needed someone with him, and she would be that someone.

      He turned toward her, his brows drawn down in a question.

      She lifted her chin and tumbled onward. She felt silly, but it was too late to turn back.

      “The photographers. The flashes. The crowds. Whatever it is, I won’t let them derail you or trigger a reaction. You can count on me.”

      His expression didn’t change, but his nostrils flared. “You’re offering to protect me?”

      Oh, it did sound so ridiculous when he put it like that. On impulse, she reached for his bare arm, squeezed the hard muscle encouragingly while trying to ignore the heat sizzling into her.

      “Whatever it takes,” she said. And then, because her cheeks were hot with embarrassment and she didn’t want to hear what he might say in response, she turned and walked away.

      “Lia.”

      She was to her door when he called out. She turned to face him, her hands at her sides, trying for all the world to seem casual and calm. “Yes?”

       “Grazie, cara mia.”

      Her heart skipped. “You’re welcome,” she said. And then she stepped into her room and closed the door with a quiet, lonely click.

      The day did not promise to be a good one. Zach turned up the speed on the treadmill, forcing himself to run faster. He needed to reach that Zen moment of almost total exhaustion before he could consider himself in any shape to deal with everything coming his way today.

      The sun hadn’t yet peeked over the horizon, and the sky was still gray and misty from the river. Soon, however, all hell would break loose.

      As if the hell of his dream hadn’t been enough to endure. He squared his jaw and hit the speed button. He’d been back in the trench, immobile from the drugs the medic had given him, and listening to the shouts and rat-a-tat-tats of gunfire. The marines had been cool, doing their job, but they’d known air support wasn’t coming in time.

      He’d wanted to help so badly. He could still see the last marine, still feel the pistol grip in his hand as the man gave him a weapon. He’d lifted it, determined to do what needed to be done—

      But he always woke at the moment he pulled the trigger.

      Terrified. Angry. Disgusted.

      Sweat poured down his face, his naked torso. He ran faster, but he knew from experience he couldn’t outrun the past.

      No, he had to focus on today. On what was coming his way after last night.

      First, there would be the papers. Then there would be an angry phone call from his father, Senator Zachariah J. Scott, demanding to know who Lia was and what the hell was going on.

      Zach almost relished that confrontation. Except he didn’t want Lia hurt. He should have chosen a better way to announce her role in his life, but he’d been too angry to think straight once Elizabeth Cunningham had looked at her like she was another piece of flotsam moving across his orbit. He’d simply reacted. Not the way he’d been trained to deal with things, but too late now.

      She would handle it, though. He pictured her last night when he’d cornered her before his speech. She’d been fierce, angry, determined.

      Sexy.

      God, she was sexy. Something about Lia’s special combination of innocence and fierceness was incredibly sexy to him. Addictive.

      She wasn’t like the women he’d been linked with in the past. They had always been polished, smooth, ready to step in and become the perfect society wife. Oh, he’d had his flings with unsuitable women, too. Women who were wild, fun, completely inappropriate.

      Lia fit none of those categories. She wasn’t smooth and polished, but she wasn’t inappropriate, either. He doubted she was wild, though she’d certainly been eager and willing during their two-night fling.

      Zach gritted his teeth and resolved not to think about that. Not right now anyway.

      But he couldn’t stop thinking about last night on the terrace when she’d said she would protect him. He’d wanted to laugh—but he hadn’t. It had been incongruous, her standing there in her silky pajamas, looking all soft and womanly, staring up at him and telling him she would be at his side, making sure he didn’t have a meltdown because of a camera flash or a nosy reporter.

      He’d been stunned and touched at the same time. Yes, he’d nearly growled at her. He’d nearly told her she was too naive and to mind her own business. But her eyes had been shining up at him and she’d looked so grave that he’d been unable to do it.

      He’d realized, looking at her, that she really was serious. That she cared, on some level, and that if he was nasty to her, she would crumple inside.

      So he’d swallowed