Six Weeks, page 14
He might have been vastly successful, but he had few friends. He trusted no one.
“Everyone likes you,” Zach replied, “because you always say yes.”
Leda flushed. She was a people pleaser. It dated way back to when she had been a child and her father had died. Looking back, it felt like she’d spent her entire childhood afterward singing, dancing and trying to make her mother happy again. It hadn’t worked. Her mother had committed suicide shortly after Leda’s eighteenth birthday. But she’d never really stopped being that singing, dancing child, desperate for a smile.
Still, being a people pleaser wasn’t a crime.
“I suppose you want people to say no to you all the time.”
He was still on his knees but, even in that supplicant-like position, he looked very much in charge.
“I want you to say yes,” he said, “all night long.”
That low statement made it excruciatingly clear to her. ‘Crush’ was the adolescent term, completely harmless, but Zach was in his late twenties. This wasn’t a crush or ‘leftovers’ or anything else of that nature. Something darker lurked in his eyes—lust.
Lust for a cousin by marriage? For a doll?
He was right. It didn’t make sense.
But that was his problem, not hers.
“You must be doing something wrong,” Leda said as she stood and walked a few steps away to put distance between them. “People get over crushes by kissing other people or burning their crush’s photograph or something.”
“You think I haven’t tried that?” Zach asked from behind her.
She swung around. “Burning my photo?”
“No, kissing other people.” His tone put heavy quotation marks around the word ‘kissing.’ Banging other women was what he’d obviously meant.
Leda did not want to think about her ‘cousin’ banging anyone, not because they’d grown up together or anything—they’d both been adults when her aunt had married his dad—but because it was Zach. He was in a different category. He didn’t bring home girlfriends, but neither did he worry about getting dates. From what she recalled, there was always some young woman willing to pair off with him, even if only for a night.
“I’ve tried fucking women who look like you,” he went on. “I’ve tried fucking women who are your exact opposite. It’s been ten years. Nothing works. I know.”
She believed him. Zach Benson would have tried everything, no pain or expense spared. He truly wanted to exorcise her because, to him, she must be haunting his life.
What a burden he must have carried for so long and so uncomplainingly. And it was her own stupid fault it had come out now, embarrassing them both. She’d practically pushed him into a confession.
“I don’t really find you…appealing,” she said apologetically, still mindful of his long years of silent suffering—although, that suffering didn’t seem to have stopped him from having an active sex life. Connected by marriage, it was hard not to know how many women he’d dated.
He laughed shortly. “I know that, too.” He closed the distance between them in one long stride. “The man you end up with is going to be artsy and soft, and he’s going to give in to you, even when he shouldn’t, because you look so cute and sweet.”
Leda couldn’t resist smiling. “I am cute and sweet.”
He loomed over her. “Sweet enough to say yes to me?”
She shook her head furiously, sending curls flying. “Not that sweet.”
He caught a handful of her hair and crushed it between his fingers. “I’m hurt. Now where’s that accommodating woman I’ve come to know?”
Searching his hard face, Leda concluded that his so-called hurt was no more than a bare statement. If she had damaged his feelings—as opposed to his ego—he hid it well.
She wanted to help him. She really did. She couldn’t stand suffering of any variety and she particularly hated being the cause of it. But she still couldn’t quite believe that Zach—Zach!—needed her help.
Zach didn’t need anyone.
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About the Author
Nan Comargue is a romance and erotic romance writer who has been reading romance novels all her life. She prefers sexy confident heroes who win over slightly introverted heroines (read: nerdish types) but she writes about everything from angel-warriors to cowboy ménage.
Nan blogs about her writing journey and other interesting topics (zombies!) here but lately she tweets more than she blogs (and sometimes more than she writes).
Nan is Canadian, eh?
Nan loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website details and author profile page at https://www.totallybound.com
Nan Comargue, Six Weeks
